#only peace and love from me 💜

[ohheyitsjustbear]

Gonna give up looking for amab fitting femme things cos all that ever comes up is just sissy this and sissy that and that's just not the vibes round here 🙄

[vintagebuckybarnes]

In Vino Veritas

Pairing → Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Lab Assistant! Female! Reader

Total Wordcount → 3.5K

Summary → It all started when you and the Avengers enjoyed drinks during the afterparty back at the Avengers Tower. There, Tony revealed one of your deepest secrets, and even though you wish it had never come to light at first, you’re glad it did when the man you love stands on your doorstep, ready to start the rest of your life together.

Tags & Warnings → Semi-canon compliant, Avenger! Bucky Barnes, Female! Reader, Tony’s Lab Assistant! Reader, Bucky’s past as TWS is mentioned, emotional hurt/comfort, mutual pining, some cursing, and explicit sexual content.

Tags: Smut → Grinding, begging, some dirty talk, praise, teasing Bucky, protected sex, cowgirl position.

Story Rating → Explicit

Author’s Note → This story is beta'd by the wonderful @late-to-the-party-81, and I cannot thank you enough for that. I hope you'll all enjoy my story, which is filled with some angst, lots of fluff, and some smut to top it all off! 💜

Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition → “There is no us.” | Riding | In vino veritas | “Touch me.” @fandom-free-bingo Medical Edition → Crush at first sight @julybreakbingo Post-JBB → Being confronted about their feelings for another

Tags List → If you’d like to be tagged in my stories, you can add yourself to my tag list here.

The evening starts fine, good, even. But it all takes an unexpected turn when the man you work for - Tony Stark - reveals your secret. A secret that you’d only recently revealed to him.

Earlier that day, you’d spotted Bucky as he was working out and from that moment on your mind has been with him instead of your usual work and tasks.

“Hello, Y/N? Anyone home in there?” Tony asks as he lays a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. You look up at him with a worried look while he smiles back at you with a kind expression. A soft sigh escapes your lips as the thoughts in your head wander off again, specifically how his back looked underneath the tank top he wore in the gym while doing squats. Not only that, but you also can’t stop thinking about the way his ass looked in the sweatpants he wore. In a word, magnificent.

“Is everything okay with you? You’ve been a bit off your game today.” As Tony sits next to you, you put down the screwdriver you were holding - the one he asked you three times to pass to him - before turning to face him, your gaze focusing somewhere on the wall behind him. For a moment, there’s a silence between you as you gather the courage to tell him what’s been on your mind.

“Well, uhm- There’s something, or someone, that I can’t stop thinking about, and it’s taking over my mind every second of every day. It- It’s Bucky,” you say almost in a whisper. For a few seconds, Tony is completely silent as he lets the thought of you having a crush on one of his fellow Avengers sit in his mind. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, he reaches out for your hand and takes it between his warm ones.

“You know that I’ll always support you in everything, right? I supported you when you expressed your desire to halt your life as an Avenger and retrain as my lab technician, and I supported you when you moved out of Avengers Tower to have your own home with more peace. This is not going to be any different. All I’m hoping for is that he will make you the happiest and best version of you, as you deserve nothing less.”

Tears brim at your waterline as Tony tells you this, and even though you deeply appreciate him, his words, and everything he has done for you, you can’t help but still feel a bit… odd about the fact you told him you’re having a crush on Bucky. That you have a crush on the man who was once the most feared assassin in the world under the hands of HYDRA.

“Now, can you hand me that screwdriver before your thoughts wander off to him again?” your boss asks in a teasing tone, making you smile as you grab it and hand it to him. Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say, and it's exactly why you enjoy spending time by his side while learning everything there is to know about his lab and what's going on in there.

Just as you’re about to get comfortable with another drink in your hand, you meet the gaze of the man you’re crushing on, and you feel heat coursing through your veins. The lines around his deep blue eyes intensify as he smiles at you, his attention making every last thought in your brain disappear. You’re so captivated by how Bucky looks at you that you miss your seat as you sit down. However, before you fall, you’re caught by a pair of solid arms that prevent you from hitting the floor.

“Careful there, Little One,” Thor says in his deep voice, his accent always making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Even though you’d known Thor since you were young, you couldn’t help but get a little flustered by the nickname, and he smiled at you as you were finally sitting on the chair you intended to use.

“Thank you, Thor,” you whisper before sipping your cocktail. Around you, the conversations are starting to become a little blurry as you focus on Bucky and everything he has to say, his lips forming around the words effortlessly. When you suddenly feel a little shove against your arm, you yelp, making everyone go silent as they look at you.

“What did you do that for?!” you ask Thor in a low voice, but all he does is point to Tony, who obviously has something to say as he’s waving for everyone’s attention. There are moments when you enjoy the fact that alcohol can bring out people’s true feelings or thoughts, also known as in vino veritas, but not now. Oh no, now you wish you could disappear as you listen to the words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Guys, you really shouldn’t say this to Bucky or Y/N, but they’re having a massive crush on one another!” Tony says in a loud whispering tone, but what he fails to notice in his inebriated state is that you two are sitting right across from one another, enjoying the afterparty just like everyone else. Or at least, you were enjoying the afterparty until your secret got out.

The glass you were holding falls out of your hand before shattering into pieces on the floor, and your feet carry you as fast as they can away from the party and away from your worst nightmare come true. The music behind you fades away as you turn one corner after another, tears burning in your eyes as the event repeatedly replays in your mind. Your lungs start to burn as you keep running, the stinging feeling in your side increasing as you run out of the Avengers Tower into the night.

Meanwhile, Bucky’s world feels like it has taken a 180-degree turn. Mere minutes ago, he could only fantasize that you could have feelings for him, but now? A wave of disbelief washes over the super soldier, his expression showing pure surprise as he takes the moment in. For him, it was a crush at first sight from the momentyou walked into the training room on your first day. Over the years, his feelings have intensified, although he has only told Steve about his crush - or rather his now deep-rooted love - for you.

And yet, now that the pair of you have been confronted about your feelings for one another, he doesn’t know what to do. He has replayed the moment he’d confess his feelings to you more times than he can count in his mind, and in none of those versions, this is one of the scenarios that had appeared. It’s only when Steve grabs his arm and pulls him away that he seemingly comes back to reality again.

“Bucky, how does Tony know about your crush on Y/N? I mean, I’m, of course, fine with you sharing it, but-”

“I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know, and it kills me,” Bucky says as he runs his fingers through his cropped hair.“Fuck- I was planning on telling her this week but… but now it’s ruined, and I didn’t even get the chance to talk to her, and-” It’s all Bucky can say as he fights the urge to punch the wall with his metal fist, both hands clenched by his side as he tries to regulate his breathing. Without warning, Steve pulls him into a hug, and Bucky’s arms snake around his best friend's waist as his fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt.

“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” Steve whispers, though he’s not entirely sure that’s true because he knows as well as anyone that things don’t always go back to how they were before. Still, Bucky decides to believe him as they stand there for a little while longer, and he soaks in every bit of comfort he can get for now. Lord knows he’s going to need it.

The past few days have been strange, to say the least. You haven’t been to the Avengers Tower since Tony revealed your now not-so-secret crush on the super soldier. You’re afraid of what will happen if you do. This also means you haven’t seen Bucky in a few days, and you miss him. You miss hearing his laugh, and you miss seeing how his mouth turns slightly upward as you hand him one of your baked goods, but most of all, you miss how his arms feel when he pulls you in for a hug.

Just as you’re about to make yourself a cup of tea, you get pulled from your thoughts by a soft but familiar knock on the door; only one thing can make that sound: Bucky’s metal hand knocking against the wood. For a moment, you contemplate your actions, but decide to give him at least a chance to talk, especially as it wasn’t him who laid out your feelings in front of everyone.

“Bucky, hi,” you say softly as you take in his appearance, your heart sinking as you do. It’s evident he hasn’t slept at all the past few days. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn’t look as healthy as usual—more disheveled. The struggles he’s facing are apparent in his entire demeanor, and all you want to do is wrap him up in a warm blanket and cuddle him until the end of time.

“Hi,” he says hoarsely, and you step aside, allowing him to enter your apartment. He’s been here a few times already, and usually there’s a warmth radiating from you and every inch of the little place you call home, but ever since the party, it hasn’t been the same. It isn’t just the apartment, either. You feel different.

“Would you like some tea before we talk?” you ask to break the tension. “I was about to make some.”

He nods at you before wandering further into your apartment, and you head to the kitchen, picking out another mug for Bucky to use. Once he’s caught sight of your couch, he immediately takes a seat, a soft groan audible as he does. There aren’t many places more comfortable than the large couch that’s standing right here in your living room.

When you emerge a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate filled with chocolate chip cookies you baked fresh this morning, Bucky can’t help but smile at you. He gladly takes the tea with one of the cookies, as they’re his favorite, and when you sit down next to him, it feels just like it always has, as if nothing has changed. But you both know it has, and that’s why the super soldier’s now in your living room.

“So…” you start, unsure what to say now that he’s sitting on your couch. Bucky’s eyes are trained on the steaming tea in his hands, his thoughts going a mile a minute as he’s thinking about what he wants to say - other than confessing his love for you.

“So… uhm, we missed seeing you around the Tower,” Bucky starts, though you both know it’s mostly him who has missed seeing you there. You have always been a staple there during his mornings as you make him a cup of coffee, and during movie nights, you were always the one he could sit next to and enjoy the movie, but now that you’re not there, it’s like a piece of soul has left the Tower with you.

“I mean, yeah. It’s been a bit awkward for me to go back after what happened a few days ago,” you tell him, and a shudder of horror runs down your spine at the thought of having to face Tony again. A smile tugs at the corners of Bucky’s lips as he thinks back to what happened that night, a happy memory of your first meeting resurfacing in the back of his mind as he does.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I’ve made some chocolate chip cookies, if you want some. However, I should warn you, Tony’s been on the prowl since I took them out of the oven, so I’ll advise you to be quick,” you say with a glare towards Tony, who has been eyeing them up since he walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. For the first time in a long time, Bucky showed something akin to a smile, and everyone looked at each other to ensure they saw it, too.

“Thank you,” he says lowly, grabbing one of the smaller ones on the plate, followed by a cup of coffee, before swiftly leaving the kitchen to spend more time in his room. Before Bucky even left the kitchen, Tony was on the cookies as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and this time you let him.

“Can I- Is it okay if I tell you something? Because if I don’t say it now, I don’t know if I ever will,” Bucky says softly, and you nod before repositioning yourself so that you’re facing him. His gaze is still trained on his mug as he thinks carefully about his next words, afraid he might accidentally say the wrong thing.

“Tony was right. He is right, actually. When he said, we’re crushing on each other. I’ve been crushing on you since you offered me those chocolate chip cookies when Tony threatened to eat them all before anyone else had a chance to get them. It was like a switch flipped inside me back then, and I haven’t been the same since,” Bucky says, his mouth now in a line as he tells you about his feelings.

“Each time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing an angel, and every time I hear your voice, it’s like a little piece of my soul is healing, too. I find myself drawn to you in every room and wonder what life has in store for us. But deep down inside, I know there is no ‘us’ yet. But I want there to be us. I want you, Y/N. I want you to be mine, in whatever capacity you’ll have me. If you want to stay friends, that’s okay with me, but if you want more, I’ll happily accept every bit of love you’re willing to offer me.”

Once Bucky’s done, you’re unsure what to say. What to think. What to do. You want to say that the feelings between you are mutual, that you’re in love with him and that you want nothing more than to be his, but something inside you is stopping you. So, instead of saying anything, you place your hand over his flesh limb, and his eyes slip shut at the feeling of your soft fingers against his rough hand.

“Bucky.” His name is a whisper on your lips, but it’s enough to make him look at you, to meet your gaze.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, Bucky carefully put his tea on the coffee table before hauling you onto his lap, his hands digging into the soft flesh of your waist as your lips interlock in a passionate dance. He can’t get enough of your soft mouth slotting together with his and the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours as your fingers dig into his neck. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt a strong connection with someone, and you’re happy to explore it with Bucky.

Your hips grind over his growing length of their own volition,your body looking for any bit of friction it can get. Without warning, one of Bucky’s hands slides lower until he’s cupping your ass, making you gasp into his mouth as a result. Bucky can’t help but smile into the kiss as he pulls you impossibly closer, your legs spreading just a bit further as you sink against his muscular body.

“Hmm, I’ve been wanting this - you - for so long,” he says between the kisses trailing your jaw towards your ear, his teeth nipping on your earlobe as your head lolls to the side. With every passing second, your thoughts are melting away more and more, and all that’s left inside your mind is Bucky. Soon, his other hand joins the first as he helps you grind onto him, a groan falling from his lips as he sets a perfect pace for you both.

“B-Bucky—" his name sounds more like a whine than anything else. “I—I want you.”

“But you already have me, pretty girl, ‘m right here,” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice, his hands continuing to help you grind until you’re a complete mess for him. Your shorts are ruined, your arousal soaking through them and onto the bulge in his black jeans, much to Bucky’s joy. He was wondering what it would take to get you to this point, and it turns out it won’t take much.

He smiles against the skin of your neck, where he’s taking his time to mark you with hickeys and small bitemarks, all of which leave you a bit more of a moaning, begging mess on his lap, much to his pride. When one of your hands moves away from his neck and down his torso, he quickly catches on to what you’re doing. “Someone’s a little impatient today, huh?”

“Yes, oh god, yes! I need you to touch me, Bucky. I want to feel you inside me as you make me fall apart on your cock, and I need you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow!” Your voice sounds more breathy than usual, but every care you thought you had has gone out the window. All you want is Bucky and his cock to ride, until you’re orgasming so hard and long you can’t remember your name.

“Okay, I will. Don’t you worry about anything, okay? Let me take care of you, and I’ll give you everything you need and more,” he reassures you in a shushing voice. You nod before kissing him again, which immediately deepens before he gently helps you get up, allowing you to take off your panties and shorts, and he can take off his pants and boxershorts, too. As soon as you’re both freed from your last pieces of clothing, you hand him a condom you retrieved from the side table drawer while he took the time to undress himself.

“Hmmm, looks so thick,” you tell him as you look at it with wide eyes, wondering how he’s going to fit inside you as you’re positioning yourself on his lap once more, your legs bracketing his thicks thighs as you get comfortable.

“I know, but I’m gonna go slow. Wouldn’t want to hurt you and your perfect, sweet little pussy.” He smiles as he holds his cock in place, your pliant body sinking onto him slowly as your fingers dig into his shoulders to steady yourself. Your hiss of pleasure is audible and your face contorts at the slight sting of him stretching you, but just like he promised, Bucky is taking it slow to ensure you’ll both have the most amazing first time.

As soon as you’re fully seated on his lap, your body goes limp against him, your face tucked in the crook of his neck as you adjust to his girth, and Bucky places soft kisses on your head while praising you through it all. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Such a good girl for me, letting me take the lead and giving you exactly what you need.”

A small smile appears on your face as you look up at him with big, doe-like eyes, and he can’t help but smile back as the back of his fingers gently caress your cheek. He may have thought you were beautiful before, but nothing compares to this moment. 

“I love you, Y/N, and I promise to take care of you with every fiber of my being,” he whispers, his lips sealing his promise against your cheek. Your eyes fall shut at his words, and his hand moves down your side until it’s on your hip again, ready for you to let him know when you’re good to go. Your bodies work in complete sync with one another with every rise and fall of your chest, and his hands guide you beautifully as you slowly sink and rise on his length.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, and it doesn’t take long for both of you to find your highs for the first time, and they’re serving as a promise of everything else that’s still to come in this lifetime. A few days ago, you and Bucky didn’t even know you felt the same about one another, but now you’re sharing the start of the rest of your lives, and it’s all thanks to Tony. Because without him, you wouldn’t have been able to tell the man of your dreams how much you love him.

Masterlist → Bucky Barnes

GIF: Source → All the other graphics you see are made by @vintagebuckybarnes

[hanafubukki]

I binged your Lilia with a baby daughter and I couldn't get enough. Can you imagine if General Lilia gets yeeted into that timeline and he finds out that not only did his future self marry a human but also actually have a child with her. If current timeline Half Faces are already kinda rare so imagine from his time where he's at war with them. Also how Lilia's little girl interacting with her Papa (who isn't really her Papa but also isn't lmao) Also, MC who he is married to. I just wanna see his Tsun Tsun ass be flustered but confused lmao. Ok, thank youuu!

[referring to these posts: 1, 2, and 3]

Hello Anonie 🌺🌷🌻

I'm happy that you enjoyed them anonie! I had a blast writing them. 🌟💚

Ohhhh Anonie you guys know how to hit my weak spots 😂💕💜 Babies, General Lilia, time travel shenanigans oh my 🤣💚 You and me 🤝 wants to see General Lilia tsun tsun butt be flustered mwah chef kiss.

General Lilia being sent to the future is a curse and a blessing...depending on who you ask 😂 jkjk

Just thinking about it and I just?? Love the thought of General Vanrouge meeting a new born baby or up to a 1 year old. Something about him just holding her with these awkward hands just has me so soft 😩🥹

But then I also think our Lilia might be possessive and go ‘My Baby’ on him, even though that’s literally himself 🤣

I have so many thoughts sooo many on how General Vanrouge’s reaction to Malleus and Silver could go, and even Sebek. But more so on Malleus and Silver. Also his reaction to his future self too, you know??

In reverse, our Lilia’s reaction to his past self. It can go many ways as well. Depending on how General Vanrouge reacts. Papa instincts ✨

But we’ll skip that because this ask is about baby and General Vanrouge ✨✨

A part of me thinks that our Lilia is going to just yeet the baby at his past self. Deja vu right?? Don’t worry, he knows himself and knows the General will catch the little one.

After flicking Lilia on the forehead for his actions and letting Mal and Sil deal with him, you go to the General who’s frozen. He caught her of course, but he seems stumped on what to do.

You can’t blame him really. After being in war and seeing and dealing with what he has. This peace and quiet must be new, not to mention being in the future.

So you go to him and as gently as possible, making sure to not frighten him, move his hands so he’s more comfortably holding the baby.

Unknown to him, but his eyes softened as the little one curled into him while making cooing noises. You know your Lilia is taking a bunch of pictures.

“See? You’re a natural.”

He looks at you in disbelief but you can see the amazement in them too.

You tell him how he has no choice but to hold the baby now because she will cry if you move her from her new favorite spot. He flusters a bit at that.

Time goes on, General Vanrouge wears casual clothing and hangs up his armor temporarily after Lilia had a talk with him. His weapon is with him, you all understand why. His need to protect what’s his is engraved even though he doesn’t see it yet.

[Sometimes you see your Lilia looking at the armor. His eyes mixed with emotions. You simply lay your head on his shoulder; he kisses your hand]

The General gets attached to your daughter. She babbles at him and pulls at his hair. He tries not to flinch. For someone who was against raising kids, the General doesn’t say anything when your daughter stuffs his hair into her mouth or drools on him as she sleeps.

Lilia’s proud, “that’s my girl!” is often heard.

At one point, you take pity on him. You take a hairbrush, running it carefully through his hair before tying it in a high bun. You fondly roll your eyes at the pout your Lilia has before taking your daughter to feed. For the General’s sake, you chose not to comment on his flustered expression.

Our Lilia is repeatedly saying “spoilers” which irritates the General whenever he asks a question. You get why it’s frustrating but the scene is rather funny and your baby girl’s laughter agrees with you.

“I won’t have you ruining my future! I’ll have you know I wouldn’t change anything for the happiness I have now, so you have to be patient.”

Malleus and Silver both have the sweetest smile. They know exactly what he means.

The General watches how his future self acts. You can see the slight scowl and twitch of his eyebrow. He’s questioning his whole existence.

What surprises you is his question to you.

“Are you sure you want to be married to that?”

“Hey!”

You laugh softly, tenderly tucking a stray strand behind his ear, “Yes. He’s you, isn’t he?”

The smile you give him then has him falling deeper unbeknownst to him.

Anabskdkds okay, but why am I the one flustered now?? Qbskwjwjejr 😂💞🥰

Ahhhhh this was longer than I expected but I had so many ideas and I wanted to especially include that last one 🥹💞

Thank you for sending this in Anonie 😭💚 Currently screaming into a pillow and rolling in bed. Ahhhhh 💞💞💞💚💚

[m4nj1r0s]

Ran Haitani relationship headcannons

- Was probably only using you for entertainment, and was 100% planning on leaving you after about a month.

- Since you two weren’t serious in his mind, mf was a MENACE.

- Got you a COLD pack when you were on your period and had cramps.

- Like my Hanma post, gives bad girl advice to Rindou.

- “Girls prefer cold packs when they’re on their period, it helps the cramps.”

- Like a week before he was going to break up with you, he noticed a rival of his making lovey-dovey eyes at you. He postponed breaking up with you just to spite his rival.

- Was extra affectionate with you if he ever saw the guy JUST to be petty to the max but he found himself doing it privately too. And.. he liked it. Rindou helped him come to the conclusion he genuinely liked you!!

- But now you can’t leave him, ever :(

- You guys have dates where you just nap together. I’m not talking like you just came over and you two were bored so you took a nap. No, no, no like this is an actual PLANNED date. It’s marked on his calendar and everything as ‘date night’ with a bunch of hearts made with red sharpie. Ran probably gets Rindou to go out so you guys can have some peace and quiet.

- “Isn’t this nice, baby?”

- “I can feel you trying to interlock our toes.”

- Probably took Rindou a while to warm up to you, but the real ice breaker is when Rindou came home drunk whilst Ran was asleep so you guys played video games and did karaoke.

- Ran wanted to tear his hair out at Rindou’s singing but he said yours was like a lullaby. 🤗

- Probably has a picture of Nahoya and Souya that he throws darts at in his room. 😭😭

- If you’re shorter than him, he loves putting things you need on a high shelf so you have to ask him to get it.

- And he does this whilst you’re using it. ☹️

- Backfires when you just ask Rindou..

- Expects you to have his picture as your lock screen and refuses to put yours as his. His lock screen is a picture of his bed.

- When you got upset he refused to have your picture as his lock screen, he tried to make it up to you by taping a picture of you to his fighting baton.

- “This is practically the same thing, actually, it’s better! Would you rather I tape it to my uniform instead??”

- He’s genuinely asking.

- You’re saved in his phone as smth like “Honeycomb suckle sugar plum pumpkin pie ❤️💜🤍🤎💚🧡💝😫”

- Wants to learn a new language with you just so you guys can talk about stuff without Rindou eavesdropping (I hc Rindou has a bad habit of this).

- He is IMPOSSIBLE to wake up, like you could try everything and he would still be fast asleep.

- Literally the only thing that makes him wake up is the smell of breakfast or any food in general

- Has a black hole as a stomach (metaphorically)

- It’s cute since you guys can have that thing together where if you can’t finish your food he will just finish it for you :)

- Type of guy to lay on his side with a rose in his mouth and his head propped up with his hand when you come home from work or whatever with careless whisper playing on in the background

- Backfires when he cuts his lip with a thorn 😭

- “I’m never doing this romantic shit again.”

————————————————————————————

I was debating making this a yandere hc post but it feels more of a normal one

It’s a pretty short hc post but I’m back now 🤭

And I will get to requests that are already in my ask box in the next few weeks, since it’s close to exam season for me 😓

[whiskeyskin]

Goddesses and Mortals

Premise: After the events of Love and Longing, Gale finds out that his feelings are reciprocated.. and that's not all.. 😳🍑🫵

Accidental sequel to a previous fic cause I can't get this lonely Wizard out of my head without the promise of a potentially happy ending 🥹 in more ways than one 😏🍆

Gale x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating • MDNI

Gale POV, reader referred to as 'you', no specific mention of gentials or gender, porn with plot?, Mystra can fuck right off, fantasies becoming reality, longing, love, tenderness, mutual masturbation, anal fingering (M receiving), unabashed consent, mild cum swapping, minor sub/dom energy, marking if you squint

5.3k words

Special thanks to @senualothbrok for nestling this tadpole in my brain for Gale to get the real deal one day.. 💜

And at it again @spellbooking with another beautiful gif of our Rizzard ☺️ Thank you! 💜

•°•°•

Gale was close, very close.

He had to hurry, the party would all be rising from camp soon. Though there was no sunlight in this desolate place, a full rest was almost upon him.

Safely secluded in the abandoned house on the far reaches of camp; sweat damp on his brow, his hand slick with salvia, Gale feverishly pumped his length in quick bursts.

Your illusion image looked up at him through lidded eyes licking your bottom lip hungrily and growling a hedonistic moan.

"Gale.." you whimpered, the voice distorted.

"Yes, love.. I'm going to come for you.. only for you.. come with me." He bit out, on the precipice of orgasm.

Suddenly, a faint lilting of rosewater assailed his nose and stopped him dead.

A cold dread filled his body, incapacitating his lungs.

Mystra.

It couldn't be.

Surely not.

Not here.

Not now.

Why right now for hell's sake?

He'd not felt her presence since she'd tried to wedge herself between you both when you'd shared a moment of magic in camp.

Despite their separation, she still checked in on her disgraced former chosen and lover at the most inopportune moments.

Fumbling, he quickly tucked himself away in his waistband and spun on his heel.

Nothing.. but the scent remained.

Had she finally gotten sick of his abusing himself constantly to the fictitious likeness of you, using her magical essence to do so?

Had she been sensing him masturbating at least twice a day since her intervention charm through Elminster?

Was she making herself known to quell his incessant self-gratification, or to participate in it?

Even a tenday ago, that would have been a comforting thought. One he would have relished in, taken solace and pride in.. but this felt wrong.

His sweet nothings he had whispered in the dead of night to "you" weren't for Mystra's perverse enjoyment, or sick amusement, weren't for her for to cast judgement on.

"I don't know why you're here," he called brazenly, "but I assure you, this is nothing that concerns you any longer. Now, if you'd be so kind, leave me in peace." He requested, firmly.

Silence.

He wasn't convinced.

"And I don't appreciate the timing of you little assertion here. Now that I'm finally on a path of some kind of healing, you make yourself known?" He snapped, pointing a finger at nothing.

"You have no reason to be here. You have already spoken your will and want with my life and until such a time that that moment arrives, I will do what I want, with whomever I want. Be they real, or fantasy is no concern of yours. Now, leave." He frowned and gestured finally.

The warmth in the air he didn't realise had been present disparated. He was left cold.

Just like always with her.

"Gale?" Called your voice, your vision now by the doorway.

He looked up to see you leaning on the doorframe, slightly bleary.

"Sorry, my love. I got distracted. Less said about that, the better. Now," he beckoned a crooked finger towards himself, "let's get back to where we were before everyone wakes up."

You frowned and looked him up and down, "Did you just call me, 'my love'?" You asked.

For the second time that early morning, Gale's blood ran cold.

"And what exactly were we doing before?" You irked a brow, looking amused.

Gale struggled for words as the blood that had been swiftly journeying to the south was urgently redirected north.

"I-uh-I did? Must've been a mistake. What are you doing up so early?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

You squinted, "Who were you talking to?"

"No one." Gale answered, feigning innocence.

"Wow, that was convincing." You teased with mockingly wide eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him and he felt a gentle brush against his mind. You were seeking permission. He allowed it.

"Mystra?" You asked with a tense lilt. Gale nodded.

"Thought so, I heard you calling that you were trying to move on and someone was suddenly trying to get your attention again. Is everything alright?" You asked, your tone worried and sincere.

Gale's heart bloomed.

"Yes, since her missive from Elminster, she's reached out. I don't have time for it."

"That's a massive step for you, Gale. You said something about moving on, is that true?"

"Somewhat." He answered in a half truth.

You smiled, "Is she still here?" There was a pause, Gale could see the cogs turning, "Did you want to make her jealous? Is that why you called me 'my love'?"

Gale blinked twice.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, maybe you snuck up here to be with me. Maybe I'm the one you're moving on with."

Again, Gale blinked twice.

How unintentionally right you were.

He swallowed.

"Would that be something you're interested in helping me with?"

"To fuck with the gods? Anything." You purred the last word down the connection at him and it made the hairs on his neck raise like you'd whispered it directly against his skin.

"Then by all means, take the lead."

You irked a seductive brow and turned down your head to gaze through lidded eyes.

He swallowed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. You're just so gods damned handsome. I'm glad we could sneak away again." You walked towards him confidently, a slight prowl in your gait.

Gale's blood supply had ignored previous instruction and fully marched back south. The sight of you - truly you - saying these things to him had him dizzy from the rush of blood.

"Not to worry, I quite enjoying being gawped at."

"Well, it's certainly no hardship." You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a sensual hug, while he desperately tried to keep his erection from your notice.

"Mm, we have to be quick. We don't have much time until the others wake up." You crooned, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Did the minor illusion keep you warm enough while I was gone?"

And for the third time that morning, Gale's body shot full of ice.

His blood entirely confused, threw it's hands up in defeat for direction.

You knew?

How could you know?

He was careful.. wasn't he?

Your hands never stopped roaming; his arms, his shoulders, his neck.. his hair.. oh gods, up into his hair.

Gale's breath hitched and shuddered.

Oh gods, you felt like heaven. Even if he felt like he was in hell.

"I know you like me to watch you but I've been so neglectful lately with everything that's been going on. Can you forgive me?" You pulled back from him, your face pulled into a beautifully twisted smile, sin pulled at the edges.

"I th-think you can make it up to me." He gasped.

Your eyebrows flexed in amusement up your forehead, "Do you want me to watch you right now? With everyone waiting in camp, drinking tea and preparing breakfast?"

You smoothed your hands from his shoulders to the top of his chest, "Do you like the anticipation of being caught, Gale? The rush of being found?"

Oh gods, you were so close. You smelled so good, like lemongrass and lavender.. and underneath the balms, your musk, your scent. You.

"I would do anything, as long as it was with you, my love." He breathed, unable to contain the emotion in his voice.

Your eyes unfocused for a brief moment, then came back, blinking as though seeing through an unfogged mirror.

A soft gasp caught in the back of your throat; that noise could state him for a thousand nights.

Then you stepped away.

You averted your gaze, and backed away from his arms completely. You shut your eyes tightly.

"Gale, I-"

You opened them, a wealth of feelings swirling but he couldn't decipher any of them.

"I need to get back to camp. We need to get to Moonrise Towers today, with Isobel's blessing we can cross the Shadows. We need to be ready." You nodded curtly and disappeared.

Gale stared after you, the cold air of the Shadowlands around him a cruel but poetic pathetic fallacy.

He groaned and closed his eyes against balled fists, as he pressed them against his eyes. Tears brimmed behind them, hot frustrated tears.

"Gods fucking dammit."

***

Gale had attempted to maintain distance today, which had been difficult considering you'd partied up together with Karlach and Shadowheart.

Karlach had tried to question his glum mood, but he'd simply recused it as nerves of their close proximity to the potential Heart of the Absolute.

"Ah, Gale. If there's anyone who knows how shit it is to have a ticking time bomb in their chest, it's me. Come and speak to me sometime mate, yeah? We can talk about it."

"Karlach, you're truly a soul that steels my own. I may just take you up on that."

A firm nod and a beaming smile from Karlach ended the conversation as they entered this Balthazar's chamber, after which none of them really had the stomach for food that night.

Wyll had stepped up and made a hearty bowl of vegetable and meat stew. It was nothing on his own cooking, of course but it was a valiant attempt.

Needed a little more pepper.

You sat nursing your bowl, generally making conversation around the fire. Halsin had joined you back from Last Light with no new news of the catatonic lost soul, apart from that he kept singing. A lute of significance to him had been added to your list of items to retrieve; an ever growing list.

Gale swallowed a mouthful and risked a glance towards you, your eyes met for a brief moment before you looked away, uncomfortable. His heart sank.

He'd truly ruined any chance of friendship after his desperate behaviour this morning. You'd barely spoken two words together all day, and now you wouldn't look him in the eye.

He excused himself for an early night and retreated to his tent. He lit his candles and pulled out one of the many books he'd picked up along today's excursions around Moonrise, hoping that one of them would point them towards the heart.

***

The noise around the campfire grew weary as he poured over his readings. Various 'goodnights' alerted him to the potentially late hour.

Gale sighed and rubbed his eyes, he conjured a bookmark, closed it and drained his glass of wine.

Now that he'd been pulled from his focus, he realised how tired he was. Physically drained from a gruelling day of emotional turbulence.

Rosewater gently lilted under his nose, he snorted it back out.

"Oh for the love of-! Bugger off!" He spat through a whisper.

"I'm sorry." Came your voice from behind him.

He spun around on his knees to see you hastily trying to leave his tent.

"No!" Called a little too loudly, reaching out across the space, "Not you. I didn't mean you."

You stopped, looking back at him for the first time since the morning. The soft glow of the candles illuminating your wonderful face, his heart squeezed uncomfortably.

"I assume she's back again, then?" You asked through terse lips, glancing around the low lit interior of his tent.

"Where rosewater is, Mystra's sure to follow. What can I do for you?" Gale asked, shaking off the lingering of his former lover.

"I-," you started, wringing your hands, "I wanted to apologise for this morning."

Gale blinked.

You wanted to apologise?

"What for?" He questioned his tone incredulous.

"For it all. I embarrassed you, I embarrassed myself.. I acted poorly. I thought it would be a good way to show that I knew what you'd been doing-with the minor illusions." Gale's eyes widened. He'd been attempting to solve that one today.

"H-How did you find out?"

"I'd cast Detect Thoughts on Jaheria when we met her at the Inn, and it lasts all day. I heard you when I was laying down to rest. All the things you wanted to do." You swallowed thickly, and a jolt of excitement shot it's way through his cock to his brain.

That was two nights ago.

He'd fantasized about gourging on your sex as you mounted his face, fucking yourself with his mouth as you leaned back with one hand to stroke him. He'd made a mess of his walls, as well as himself.

"You've got a pretty interesting imagination, Gale. Especially since we seem to be ethereal galaxy people in your head." You smiled, folding your arms across yourself, "The one from last night was pretty hot too." You bit your bottom lip to contain more, and swallowed.

He remembered that vividly.

He'd fantasised about spooning you, fucking into you and playing with you from behind. The mirror image had gasped and moaned for him, breathed his name over and over again, as he came to the thought of pleasing you enough to milk his cum inside your clenching walls.

"I thought it was just sex, that maybe we could get rid of some nervous energy together but then this morning.. the way you-you looked at me.." you trailed off, Gale's heart hammered against his chest.

You rest your splayed hands across your heart, "I was foolish. You're not the kind to just sleep around. To have casual sex and not think of it again."

"Like Astarion?" He quipped before vetting the venomous comment.

You tightened your lip, "Kind of." You answered, with a tone that felt loaded with more secretive information but he didn't want to pry.

Well, he did.

But not right now.

"I could be." He postured, looking up at you.

You let out a short laugh, "That face this morning is not the face of someone who can just have sex and not want more."

He hardened his face, "It could be.. if you wanted to be.." Gale irked a brow, feigning a casual air.

"Oh, yeah?" You goaded, leaning on one hip and folding your arms again.

"Absolutely. We could have sex right now and I wouldn't bat an eyelid." He lied, pushing his lips down into a grimace, while his cheeks flushed and his heart pounded against his sternum.

"Really?" You questioned, looking dubious.

"Unquestionably." Gale punctuated with a flick of his fingers, relaxing into his position on the floor, widening his knees to sit back on his heels in an attempt at nonchalance.

"So, you fantasising about kissing my neck, my chest, stomach and hips and calling me "my love" means nothing." You stated, using air quotations.

"Certainly not. Mere sweet talk." Gale shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, while sweat gathered on his forehead.

You kicked off your hip and confidently strolled towards the short distance to him. His mouth instantly dried to dangerous levels of dehydration, as he tried to keep composure.

"And imagining your cock in my mouth, telling me how much you adore me, that isn't telling at all?" You sneered a lip through a smirk and shrugged one shoulder.

"Demonstrably." He tried to remain calm but every cell in his body was panicking, "Do you see me reacting?" He willed himself through words not to show a care.

Your tongue broke through your smirk to rub against your top teeth and his felt it between his legs, he jerked unconsciously.

"You're glowing." You drawled, dipping your eyes to his chest, "Do you even realise the orb lights up when you're horny?"

Gale's painfully stony face dropped as he quickly darted his vision to his chest.

You were indeed correct.

Through his camp clothes, a faint purple hue eminated through the fabric. Gale shot his had to cover his blatant display of arousal. He gave a sharp exhale through his nose and closed his eyes in utter embarrassment.

"This tent has been a purple colour show since Crèche Y'llek." You teased, the sound of your voice curved around a grin.

Gale's chest hollowed.

Gods dammit.

Mystra dammit.

"Oh and also this.." Suddenly he felt something graze along the length of his concealed erection - what he thought was a his concealed erection.

He let out a whining gasp, his hand slapping against worn leather, and he opened his eyes.

You'd rubbed the top of your boot under and against him in his kneeled position, gliding his sensitive member with the leather of your shoe. You continued the rhythm, the gentle friction was delicious, he gasped open mouthed.

Oh gods, it was real.

You were real.

It wasn't a cruel trick, or a fantasy.

It was you.

Gale reached up to grasp the crook of your knee, you held your gaze steadfast against his own. He began to pull off your boot, your eyes never faultered from his as it was flung to the back of the tent.

Your foot resting on his thigh, his hand still holding the meat of your strong calf.

You took his prickly chin within your fingers, eyes unsure.

"If this going to happen, it's just sex. Nothing more." You stated, in a low tone.

Gale nodded, trembling from anticipation.

"I mean it. If you're on a path to self-destruction in the name of a Goddess, I'm not wasting my time with feelings." Your voice caught and anger flashed across your features but tears hinted in your eyes.

You slid your foot off his thigh and slowly descended to crouch in front of him, taking his face fully in your hands. Their warmth slid into the deepest recesses of his lonely soul.

"I care about you, Gale. You're worth far more than what she's asked you to do. Far more."

He poured over your face, so close to him. Emotions that he had denied himself bubbling to the surface; the longing, the loneliness.. the fear.

You ran a thumb to dry a tear he hadn't realise had fallen.

"Say something." You whispered, your gaze flitting between his eyes and his lips.

Oh gods.

This was to truly happen?

He'd kiss your beautiful, soft lips?

His breathing was unsteady, the anticipation coiled dangerously around every facet of his musculature.

Gale opened his mouth to speak, to utter sweet poetry regaling your beauty, your passion, your wit and wisdom but the words would not form, they were stunted on his paralysed tongue.

You were so close.

He could feel the heat from your body, he could see the wisps of your hair moving with his unsteady breath.

You came closer and pressed your lips between his brows, electric tingling his skin in your wake. His eyes lolled shut as he finally brought his hands to hold you to him, press you to him, to feel you finally.

He slid his hands below the seam of your shirt, to feel your smooth and scarred skin, fire grazing his fingertips at the contact.

"I-.. I care for you deeply. I cannot deny this." He began breathlesly, your forehead's connected, your bodies melting together. You sank further into the embrace, widening your legs to fully welcome him between your thighs.

The image of that first night he touched himself to thoughts of you, bloomed across his mind and he bit his lip.

"Neither can I." You agreed, the sound of your voice low and raspy, "It scares me, Gale. It scares the shit into me," you leaned back, holding on to the back of his neck, slowly leading you both down to the carpeted rugs below his bedroll, "Show me. Show me I'm not wrong to feel this way. Show me I'm not alone in this."

Gale shook in head, almost trance-like, "You're not alone-not alone.. I'm with you." He followed you down, desperate not to lose a second's touch with you.

"And I'm with you, I'm not letting you go." You spoke the words against his mouth, it made his mind numb.

"No, never. Never leave me." He mumbled, as you both situated yourselves on the floor. Words bubbled and frothed out of his mouth before he could stop them, "I've been so utterly alone for so long, cut off from everyone I knew and cared for.. and I'm terrified, I'm filled with dread each day. I don't want to die-I want to stay.. stay here." He mewled through the overwhelming emotion in his throat. You increased the intensity of your touch against your brows.

"Shh, none of that matters now. It doesn't exist. For now.. it's just us.. you and me.." you whispered against his skin, he felt it shiver down every vertebrae.

"You and me." He repeated, comforted by the softness in your voice.

Suddenly, your hand grasped his naked cock. He yelped in pleasure, but was hushed by the passionate meeting of your mouth. You captured his cries, claiming them as your own.

His fingers bunched your shirt, his knuckles white, as your tongue swept in to merge with his.

Oh gods.

You tasted like wine, and oranges, and sex.

He'd imagined your taste, your scent.. but this.. the full force of you was so much more intense that he could have expected.

You fingered his leaking slit and he jerked at the sensation, causing you both to make involuntary, open-mouthed moans.

You increased in fervour at his reaction, a desperate whine eeking from his body.

It was too much but not enough. He wanted more, more of you, more of this. He wanted the world to fall away and to be consumed by only you.

Like you said; "Just you and me."

Even though it would be grammatically correct to say 'You and I'.

Your hand wrapped around the length of him, pumping the head of his penis in short, lanquid bursts.. and suddenly the correctness on ones grammar seemed worlds away.

Gale shuddered and knelt over your body, settling himself between your gorgeous thighs, pressing down against your sex, enough to make you gasp.

You shared a wicked grin together before he cradled you to him, desperately kissing and mating your tongues. His hips unconsciously twitching against the friction of your hand.

"Gods, Gale. I want you." You keened against his lips, puffs of air escaping aggressively from your lungs, as his hips drove against you.

"Yesyesyesyesyes.." he chorused, messily thrusting against your palm, "Want this. Want you. For a long while.. even before.."

"Did you fantasize about all the positions we could fuck in?"

A sharp feeling settled low in his gut and he squeezed his eyes shut to close out a threatening, pre-emptive climax.

"Yes, wanted you.. badly." He added, barely able to speak.

"I know, I saw. Sweating and willing underneath you?"

"Yess.." he hissed.

"Slipping a finger inside me, then another, preparing me to take you?"

Another deliciously painful pang shuddered inside him.

"Stretching my tight hole for you, till I'm begging you to fuck me hard and unrelenting?" You growled against his lips.

Gale tensed his jaw to mute a groan from his chest, as your words gripped the back of his head.

Oh dear fucking gods.

You were very, very good at this.

"I especially liked where I got to play with you. Those moans at the back of your throat when you'd think of me on top, or taking charge.. I had trouble concentrating yesterday because I couldn't stop replaying those sounds."

He heard you whisper an incantation, that his lust-filled brain slowly realised was Mage hand, the moment before he felt the cold sensation working his undergarments completely free, pushing them down passed his knees.

"There was one particular part you seemed to be interested in exploring together." You purred against his temple, as you twisted your grip around his plump, weeping member.

The Mage hand palmed at the cleft of his ass and lazily dragged it's fingers up his perennium, sliding towards his..

He gasped, throwing his head back and loosening his tight hips to tilt them upwards in wanton display.

"Oh gods." Gale whimpered, biting down on his lip hard, "Mm-Mhm." He panted in abandon.

He'd experimented with himself in this matter in his youth and in his newfound sexual freedom after his year of self imposed celibacy but never with another.

The magical fingers languidly drawled across his sensitive skin. He bucked and jerked against the feeling of you pleasuring him, needing more of both.

You groaned and rutted your hips against him.

"You look so beautiful like this, I can see you in the mirror behind you. You look spectacular, spreading yourself for me." You crooned, praising him and licking your bottom lip. You looked beyond him to what he assumed was his mirror.

Oh gods.

You were going to watch him like this.

Like he'd imagined.

Exposed.

Hedonistic.

Depraved.

The thought waved over his brain and made him dizzy, the desire swelled low in his belly.

"You're so willing and receptive, Gale. Do you want me to slide these fingers inside you? To pleasure you completely until you can't comprehend your own name?" You asked salaciously, assuring consent before blindly continuing. He raised his hips higher for better access as wordless agreement.

The mage hand ran a soaked finger across his puckering hole but ventured no further without express permission.

His whole body trembled, desire coarsing through his veins, soaking into every orifice.

"Yes.. yes.. fuck. I need it. Please.. please.." he wailed through staggered breath.

"Look at me." You instructed softly, halting your motions of abject pleasure.

With great difficulty, Gale did as he was told. He about exploded with joy with the sight of you.

He'd imagined you, summoned your likeness but nothing could ever compare to this.

The aura of his orb bathed you in a magical amethyst glow; the adoration shining in your eyes, the seductive curve of your lip, the sweat flattening your hair to your temples.

"So handsome.. so beautiful. Look at you, look at how you light up for me.." you smiled, guilding him with compliments as you raise a hand to touch the angry purple mark on his chest, now emblazoned with Mystra's star. "This does not define you. You are not the orb. You are not Mystra's chosen. You are Gale and you chose your own path. You are, and will always be, enough.. just as you are.."

Soft tears fell from his eyes from the intensity of his emotional response to your words and the physical stimuli of the hand gently testing his entrance.

You gently kissed the apples of his wet cheeks, then looked up at him with a darkened expression.

"Arch your back for me, sweetheart."

Gale instantly buried his face against your neck, lifting his exposed self for you.

"Good.." you cooed, beginning a slow pace to pump his cock again.

"Ohh, gods." His whined against your skin, his limit already close.

"Relax.." you whispered, kissing his temple, "Relax for me, darling. Take a deep breath, and let it out. Keep breathing."

Gale did as he was told. With each expell of air he loosened the muscles surrounding his asshole. The need growing to dizzying heights.

Pressure pushed against his rim as the finger glided halfway, he gasped and clenched unconsciously.

"Breathe, Gale." You soothed, pressing soft kisses to his face, "You're handling this so well."

Further and further you pushed inside him, delicious sensation flooding his body. His body tense and limp simultaneously, as the pleasure radiated through him from his pulsating walls.

"Fuck." He barely managed.

He kissed your neck and sucked down on the bite marks left by Astarion. He would make his own mark on you. One that everyone would see.

You gasped, your breath catching as you rolled your hips against him, teeth lightly nipping at his ear lobe.

Gale felt the friction of your other hand reaching down between you to stimulate your own release. His urge re-doubled in it's efforts to push him higher, intoxicated by your arousal.

He could feel your desperate movements between you, lightly grazing his testicles with the back of your hand.

You surprised him by gently pinching the head of him and thumbing the slit before initiating an unyielding, rapid rhythm wrapped around his cock. Synchronizing with curling the Mage hand towards his stomach, rubbing over the knot of his prostate.

A ragged, strained noise escaped from his throat as the sensations joined, assailing him from both sides.

He pushed back against the Mage hand, taking it's digit to the hilt.

"Oh yes, that's it. Enjoy it. It's for you.. all for you." You chorused his words to you, the words he used every night to pray to your false altar.

But now he had you, truly had you.. and you were spectacular.. you could not be formed into words.. you transcendend this mortal plane.. you were.. more than Godly.. you were-

A second finger penetrated him without refute and stretched his hole, doubling the pleasure against his sweet spot inside his ass, and he cried out in sheer bliss. Your hand wrapped around his cock, pumping in jubilant rhythm combined with the thrusting of the spell deep inside him.

The precipice of orgasm gripped him like a vice and choked him of all other need, apart from that to cum.

In that moment of blessed eternity, the world was narrowed down to nothing more than you and him. A vaccum in existence bathed in magical light.

Rapture split through every atom of his existence, building and climbing in a torrent of unstable energy.

"Yes, Gale-yes-come. Come with me."

His mouth open, panting like a rabid dog, he lost himself entirely.

He roared and strained and gasped, as he shot thick ropes all over your torso. His asshole squeezed and clenched tightly on the digits deliciously stuffed inside him working his orgasm longer. Your skilled hand milking every last drop from him.

He gulped for breath as you cried out underneath him, jerking against your own hand, breathless and exhilarated.

He watched you come undone underneath him, eyes screwed, mouth gaping, then biting down to quieten your moans.

Dear gods, you looked exquisite.

He reached a hand between you both to feel the after effects of your rhapsody, you twitched and laughed through a smile, as he stroked your sensitive sex in the wake of orgasm, riding you longer like you were to him.

"Stopstopstop-too much." You barely gasped against his sweat laden forehead.

There you lay, for what seemed like an easy age, together.

Aftershocks struck you both as you lay together in your joined euphoria.

The Mage hand had disappeared and left him feeling pleasantly sore from the hectic pace.

Gale pushed himself up onto his forearm, extracating his hand from between you. It was covered in your release, it glistened on his hand.

It was one of the most erotic things he'd ever seen. Something he hadn't fantasied.

He glanced back to you, you also held up your hand drenched in him.

You opened your mouth, clearing indicating to feast on yourself from his fingers. His tender cock twitched with desire.

He reciprocated his mouth and you swept your digits in his mouth. He tasted himself, licking his semen clean, as you suckled your own essence from his fingers, then pulled him in for a deep kiss.

Gale moaned at the melding of you both on mating tongues. It was pure sex and exhilaration. The desire and need. The fullfilment and warmth.

The kiss broke and you smiled at him, letting out a large breath.

"That was.." He started.

"Incredible." You finished.

"That's one of many words." He mused, laughing breathlessly.

Gale pushed himself up higher, "Oh, gods." He snorted, looking down at the scene of debauchery before him and kneeled onto his heels.

You and he were both covered in cum. It was obscene how licentiously delicious you looked painted with each other.

He remembered the first time he'd cum to your image, how hollow and alone he'd felt.

But not this time.

This time he felt complete.

Like a piece of him had hurried it's way back to him after so long apart.

"Well, that's one way to let off some steam." He chuckled darkly.

"I think it's hot." You smirked, biting down on your lower lip.

Gale swallowed with difficulty, "Careful you, that's dangerous."

Gale heaved out a breath and came to grips with what had just transpired between you both. How little his imagination had been able to conceive of you. What paltry figments had been the stars of his fantasies.

He glanced down upon you; hair mussed, sweat drying on your skin, clothes rumpled and he couldn't have loved you more.

"What?" You asked in a quiet voice.

Gale shook his head, "Nothing." He feigned.

He waved his hand with a simple somantic and the evidence was gone.

"Then come down here, I'm getting cold." You stroked your hands up his arms and enveloped him into an embrace that warmed all the lost parts of his soul.

"I meant it, Gale. I won't let you destory yourself for this. We'll find another way." You nestled yourself deeper into the hug.

Gale smiled contentedly from ear to ear, "I know we will.. because now I have something to live for."

•°•°•

Part 1

Psst.. Ive got a Masterlist too 👀

[signfromeywa]

Tawsyul ([Taw= Sky] + [Syulang= flower])

Ikran subspecies! (Day and night view)

Let me show you a preview of my own subspecies: the Tawsyul! I will do a lot more detailed views on my website later! But for now, I am excited to show you this preview!

I hope you like them 💜 and pls don't be hard with me, it was my first time to design something animal 🫣 I tried my best!

The Tawsyul swarm is living close together with one of my 3 own Na'vi tribes! Their Colony is basically part of the village from the Zeynuma 😊

More informations:

Here is some information about their physics:

They have wider wings than normal Ikrans.

They are more maneuverable and can fly longer amounts of time

They are a bit slower than the movie Ikran

They have a colorful collar they only turn them up when they are mad or in attack mode xD

Their base colors are muddy and dull and their collar, tail and inner part of the kuru is bright and colorful!

The nerve cords are always protected with the end of the kuru, which wrap the nerve cords like a bud

They have something in the head kinda looking like ears.

More info about their characters:

They only bond with one Na'vi in their lifetime!

THEY choose the Na'vi and it's always a peaceful and trusting moment.

They are showing their end of the Kuru open to the Na'vi they want to bond with. The kuru only opens when the Tawsyul is ready to bond.

They are really peaceful around the Zeynuma clan. They are like lovingly goofballs with the Na'vi trust. Playfully and therefore hard to train xD

But! They are really territorial against strangers of any kind! You need to build a friendship with them if you want one of them to choose you for a lifetime bond!

The Zeynuma children grow up with the Tawsyul so when they are old enough the mostly already befriended one of them for a lifetime bond 😊

The end piece of the Kuru is also the reason why the Na'vi called them Sky flower!

Last fun fact:

The Zeynuma love to call them "Tawsyultsyìp" (little sky flower) coz they are loving them so much :D the Tawsyul are their family, part of the clan/ tribe and also their pets :D

[shadowdaddies]

How about a drabble of Cass and Az touching their mate’s wings for the first time. Maybe she has more sensitive wings than the average Illyrian? I love your writing 💖💖

this was so sweet, thank you for the request 💜 it has some angst that I couldn't avoid since it's a female Illyrian, but it's overall very fluffy and lovely

New Memories

Azriel x Reader x Cassian

warnings: mentions of past trauma (attempted wing clipping), light smut (wing play)

“Hi, sweetheart,” Cassian greeted, his rough voice soothing as you padded towards the bed where your mates lay. 

Azriel’s eyes glowed with appreciation at the sight of you in your nightgown, the short lacy fabric leaving nothing to the imagination. 

“Did you have a good day?” Azriel hummed, moving over to one side of the bed as he lifted the covers to help you crawl between the two males. 

Settling into the bed, you sighed at the feeling of soft pillows cradling your neck, the proximity to your mates and the warmth of the comforter sending resounding peace through your tired bones.

“It was very good,” you murmured, head leaning against Cassian’s shoulder while your hand reached to hold Azriel’s. Cassian set down the book he’d been reading, putting it aside in favor of wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

A calloused fingertip brushed the tip of your wing, sending you into shock as you jumped out of both your mates’ hold. Cassian instantly shot to his feet, and you turned to see wide hazel eyes glassy with barely contained emotion.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to... I was trying to put my arm around you, sweetheart. I promise,” Cassian breathed, strong arms folded across himself in shame. 

His guilt and pain reverberated through the bond with dizzying force, the emotions so strong it nearly broke your heart. Opening your mouth to speak, Azriel chimed in from behind you first.

“Hey,” the shadowsinger cooed, voice gentle as he refrained from touching you in favor of sending a cool shadow to brush your arm. “Are you okay? Talk to us.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried willing yourself to calm, but once your eyes were closed, memories of the last - and only - time your wings had been touched flashed through your mind. Your older brothers holding you down, your father gathering the tools to clip your wings. Your screams ringing through Windhaven in a desperate plea for the Mother to have mercy on you.

The last thing you remembered was a flashing of blue and red light, raw power shaking the foundations of your home as you were swept into familiar arms. It was the watershed moment of your life - the most important, the most harrowing, the most blessed - when your mates found you.

You’d never allowed anyone to touch your wings in the months since then. It was an act only associated with pain and suffering for you. But the feeling of Cassian’s hand, so gentle and tender against your body, brought you to a realization.

You looked up at Azriel, giving him a gentle smile as you reached back out for his hand. Turning to where Cassian stood, you let your feelings flow down the bond - the pain, the trauma, and the softness and hope you felt from him.

“Come here, Cass,” you whispered, patting the bed where he had been just moments before. You sat up against the headboard, bringing both of your mates into sight as you took a deep breath. 

“I would like for you to touch my wings,” you announced, voice shaking from nerves. Cassian’s guilty expression did not let up, Azriel’s own face showing concern that propelled you to continue. “The only memories I have of my wings being touched are by those who didn’t love or respect me. I want to change that. I don’t want to give them the power of being the only ones to touch such a valuable part of me.”

You took each of their hands in your own, sitting up to let your wings fully flare open behind you. “I want those memories to belong with the males I love, so while I would like to go slowly... It would mean the world to me, if you would show me how wings are meant to be touched.”

“Oh, angel,” Azriel purred, eyes darkening as his shadows danced. “You are meant to be worshipped. Every part of you.”

You flushed under his intense presence, averting your gaze to Cassian to find the other Illyrian male eyeing you just as hungrily. 

“You are a goddess,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you. Tucking a long onyx strand behind his ear, Cassian moved closer to you, he and Azriel moving in sync like practiced warriors.

Your wings twitched behind you, butterflies fluttering in your stomach with anticipation. Shadows slipped over the edges of Azriel’s shoulders, skating soothing motions over your arms and legs, twining in your hair. 

“You tell us if you are, at any moment, uncomfortable,” he spoke, the shadowsinger’s low voice like gravel.

You nodded frantically, nerves quickly turning to excitement as you felt the warmth emanating from Cassian’s hand at the tip of your wing. His eyes locked on yours as his fingertip met the outside, barely-there soft touch dragging down the edge.

An abrupt moan escaped your lips, catching you by surprise as your back arched dramatically. “Fuck,” you breathed, the sensations shooting straight to your core.

You heard a low chuckle to your other side, Azriel’s breath tickling your other wing. His eyes flicked to Cassian. “She’s sensitive,” he purred, and both males turned to smirk at you in a way that sent heat pooling between your legs.

Azriel’s scarred fingertip settled on your talon, testing the waters with barely restrained desire. You held his gaze, allowing the pleasure to show on your face as he slid down the prominent vein inside of your wing. 

Soft moans echoed through the air, and you slumped against the cushions, wings spread beneath you as your mates took turns bringing new forms of pleasure to you. A familiar coil began to tighten in your abdomen, and your gaze flicked to Azriel in shock, only to find him looking down at you with pure male satisfaction.

“Yes,” he answered your silent question. “You can finish if your wings are touched the right way.”

Cassian growled lowly next to you, his arousal prominent from where he sat on the bed. “Would you like that? To finish like this?”

Breath escaped you, all-consuming need distracting you from everything else in the world. Managing a nod, you barely registered their warmth breath as both males drew closer to you. 

Wet tongues flicked out together against each of your talons, Azriel and Cassian working in a dance to hit each sensitive spot with flawless expertise. Slick grew between your legs, your body writhing on the sheets as their soft touches and warmth flooded your senses.

You crashed into your high almost too quickly, head tilted back as you moaned curses and praises incoherently. Heart pounding, you came down from your orgasm to feel Azriel’s hand holding your own, calloused thumb stroking the back of it.

“How do you feel, love?” Cassian murmured, settling in next to you to press a kiss to your temple. The tenderness with which they held you, the comfort unlike which you had ever known, the love you felt down the bond - everything hit you at once, and tears sprang in your eyes.

Before Cassian could pull away again, you reached your hand out for him, pulling both the general and Az toward you in a warm embrace. “They’re happy tears, Cass,” you assured him through your sniffling laughter.

They seemed to understand, not pushing further questions as both males settled back into their spots on either side of you, arms wrapping around your waist as the three of you settled to sleep. How peaceful it was to be touched so tenderly, to be touched by those you love.

[merbear25]

Heeeeeyyyy

So I discovered this blog through that breeding kink request with Katakuri, Crocodile and Mihawk and may I request the aftermath? Like I want pregnancy and baby stuff, I want the domestic bliss. Please

Oh, how cool that you found me through that! Thanks for sending in a request. I hope you enjoy this just as much as the other one.💜💜

CW: SFW, fem!reader, pregnancy and childbirth mentioned, fluff, a touch of angst, defined relationship 

His two loves (Katakuri, Crocodile, Mihawk)

Katakuri: Waking up in the middle of the night was becoming a common occurrence. Dreams that bordered on nightmares flooded his mind, refusing to allow him any peace as your due date approached. The worries of his family interfering, harming the hair on your or your precious child’s head were more often than not at the forefront. However, the dread of his potential incompetence at being the father he needed to be was that night’s perpetrator. 

Snippets of the not so distant future played in his mind, some of which came with a tinge of anxiety. Wrapped up in his arms, sleeping the early dawn away, you were glowing even in your sleep. With the remnants of the nightmare still fresh in his mind, he held you closer worrying that at any moment you’d wake up and make his greatest fear a reality. But, you didn’t and you wouldn’t. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t. 

You stirred in his embrace. The murmurs of discomfort tugged on his heartstrings. His long fingers stroked the side of your face, to which your huffs silenced and returned to gentle hums of slumber. The morning was creeping on the horizon, and despite being wide awake, he chose to stay next to you, not wanting to miss a moment.

The sun casted and set in the sky with the cycle of the days, each one pressed with preparations for the bundle you would soon be welcoming into the world. The room had already been completed due to his eagerness to have it be perfect in every way, so now the waiting game needed to be played.

He was sure to remain nearby, especially in your third trimester. Adamant in keeping you happy, he couldn’t deny you even the slightest of requests: rubbing your feet, adjusting your pillow, fetching you whatever would satisfy that week’s craving. The favors he did for you were repaid with a thank you and a peck on the cheek. How could they not be when he was doing everything in his power to keep you happy?

When the time came to finally meet your child, the world that had been swirling with nerves and fear began shifting. There was no more room for them anymore—replaced with the jittery elation of becoming a new father, new parents.

Long hours that felt as if there would be no end, until the cries of your little baby, your precious girl, put the grueling wait to a halt. She was placed on your chest, shivering and whimpering in the new world she found herself in. Your exhaustion could never overshadow the joy you shared in that moment. You cooed at her, whispers of affection that she couldn’t yet understand, so your tone carried the pure love you felt to her.

Hair clinging to your forehead with sweat, your face flushed from the physical toll you’d been put through, and the daze you were in from the whirlwind of emotions: even though you’d disagree, he saw you as a vision of beauty. As he placed his lips against your temple, a shaky sigh left you. The smile you held began quivering the longer you looked down at your child.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” Your voice cracked with emotion.

Hearing your words tremble shattered any anxiety that’d been harboring within him. He adored you, there was no denying that, and the child you just gave him only strengthened his love. The two loves of his life; neither of you would have the misfortune that plagued him growing up. He’d act as a shield if it came down to it. The burdens that came with being tied to his family, to his mother, to him: he vowed not to let them shatter this image of perfection.

He sat down beside you and wrapped you in his arms as carefully as he could, wanting to hold both of his beautiful girls at the same time.

Crocodile: Longer work hours that pushed into the late evenings were a distraction for the inevitable. Your due date was creeping up on him, enticing a nervous bug that hadn’t bitten him in a long time. Although you understood the reason for his absence, that didn’t stop the bed from feeling cold and rather lonely.

You nudged his office door open, peeking behind the wood to get a look at him working diligently behind the desk. He puffed at his cigar, allowing the thick smoke to cloud his workspace. When you inched closer, his eyes flickered to you. Your silhouette casted a shadow across the floor as you stepped in front of the fireplace. Putting out his cigar, he then waved his hand to clear the gray surrounding him.

“There aren’t many more nights you’ll be able to get a good night’s rest. You should take advantage of that.”

“I haven’t been able to sleep well the last few months because of the size of me,” you laughed in an airy, light-hearted way that never failed to fall on his ears just right. “And you know you’re in the same position as me. You’ll be up with the baby too, won’t you?” You couldn’t hide the slight tinge of sadness in your question. He was clearly having a difficult time adjusting to this change on an emotional level, even though he desperately wished that wasn’t the case.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” His eyes soaked in the sight of you: you were in your ninth month, hair tousled from sleep that couldn’t find you, and held a look of concern on your face. Looking back down at his paperwork, a glimmer of self-reflection reached him. He sighed before getting up from his office chair. “I suppose it’s time for me to turn in.” A gentle place of his hand on the small of your back led you to retire with him.

The howling wind made the windows rattle, making you shudder along with them. A slight pull of your body against his ceased them, though. His large frame offered you protection even over the most trivial things like the sounds at night. Nuzzling his face against the top of your head, his body soon found that fragment of peace it’d been after the past few months. The gentle hums of your breaths mingling, your soft skin against his, and your round belly carrying the most precious thing imaginable: there was a part of him that didn’t want these quiet moments to end. 

Having kept himself preoccupied with work to avoid the reality of fatherhood was now weighing on him. He cared about you, and it was true that he wanted this child. However, his role as the primary provider, the one who you and your child depended on for everything, had him going above and beyond to ensure both of your safety. Every deal, contract, employee, and everyone who came within spitting distance had to be dealt with, because if they weren’t and anything happened to either of you, he would only have himself to blame.

Time ticked forward to the delivery room when you performed a miracle, giving him a baby boy who was almost too perfect to touch. But, he wanted to hold him, both of you, and never let go. Holding him in his arms felt surreal; those soft yawns and grumbles were sounds he didn’t know he could adore so much. While you watched him cradling your bundle of everything that was right with your relationship, the hours of labor finally caught up with you.

As you drifted off to sleep, he kept his full attention on your little boy. His eyes memorized each detail, hoping that he wouldn’t lose such precious moments to time. Every vow he made would be kept, that much was certain. He would do everything in his power to make even the impossible possible.

Mihawk: As you lounged in the shade while reading your book, he caught himself glancing over at you more and more often. The swings of his swords weren’t striking the targets head-on anymore, instead merely nicking the sides in a sad attempt at training. It couldn’t be helped, though. You were stunning. The roundness of your belly and your hand resting on top of it, perhaps feeling the baby kick as you lost yourself in your book, was too much of a distraction.

He stood facing you for a good minute, his eyes never wavering from his typical stare. Those gentle breaths pairing with the rise and fall of your chest were simply too much for him to handle. His steps carried through the tall grass back to the castle.

“Where are you going?”

“I can’t focus here,” he called behind him. Despite the potential harshness of him just up and leaving, you knew better than to take it to heart. As he ventured back inside, you couldn’t help the tugs at the corners of your mouth.

Throwing blows to the training equipment set up inside couldn’t even help him regain his focus. Images if you through all the stages of your pregnancy flooded his mind, taking a toll on his performance. Sloppy swings, kicks, punches: he suddenly grabbed the punching bag. Firmly, he placed both hands on it, his eyes practically burning a hole in the fabric. 

The memories of your tender touches and soft smiles were accompanied with the hopes of what was to come—a family that he kept safe and happy. His fingers dug into the thick skin of the bag as he considered the threat that would undoubtedly take you two into consideration when hunting him down. It was a future which, although inevitable, was something he’d fight against until his last breath. The final punch he threw was for all of those who had already placed a target on his family.

You were in the kitchen when he made his way back around. The kettle was heating up over the stove top and teasing a whistle.

“You shouldn’t be around an open flame and should be resting.” He guided you away from the iron stove towards the sofa. 

“It’s just tea. I’ll be alright.”

“Let me make it for you. You’re the one who’s constantly complaining about swollen feet, remember?” He ignored the slight hmph from you, knowing full well that you’d be glad you took his advice.

Handing you the hot beverage, he then brought over foot rest. Patting it, he reminded you that it would be good for circulation. “You’re always looking out for me, aren’t you,” you sighed at him.

He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be? With him sitting down next to you, you could feel his eyes on you with the same intensity as when you were outside. You winced slightly from the sudden kicks.

“I think our kid is ready to get out,” you laughed softly. “Would you like to feel them kick?” 

His hands gently laid on your belly, instantly feeling the little kicks from inside. His breaths shortened as a surge of emotion took him off guard. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss where the baby was the most active. “I can’t wait to do that with you in my arms,” he whispered.

Caring gestures and loving support helped carry the both of you through the remainder of the ninth month. The cries of your new baby girl soon filled the room, painting everything outside of it as a mere backdrop. Once she was placed in his arms, he knew he could never love something as much as he loved that little girl. Nothing and no one would touch a hair on her head.

Watching him hold your child only solidified your love for him. A man who was stoic and seemingly immune to emotion was looking down at your baby girl with nothing but the soft love of a new father.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

He nodded while gently stroking her little hand, “Yes, she most definitely is.”

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thanks so much for the love for the first six parts of this series! i wish i could kiss you all 💜 xoxo <<prev >>next

Morning came and you were alone. Goosebumps came easily with the morning, the air chilling your skin. You put on comfy clothes and step out.

Emily offers you something to eat but you’re only thirsty. You didn’t want to accept anything just to half heartedly eat it.

You return into the room and you try to draw. You couldn’t think of what to draw. You stare up at the ceiling, racking your brain for ideas. You let the pen fall out of your fingers due to defeat. You look straight ahead and decide to see what other things Paul likes to do.

Only one graphic novel and you flipped through it. It wasn’t something you would get into. You put it back. A couple of gaming cds and you look around for a gaming console. You feel a bag and it’s in there but there’s no tv. You put the cds back, meaning to just not mess with anything else. As you were, a medium sized book with white pages fall. You pick it up to place it back to where it belongs but you catch a peek at the visuals that are on the paper.

You start from the beginning. You couldn’t believe your eyes. There were sketches. You flip through them in amazement. The style was unique in its own way. You were pissed at first for him not telling you but it was hard to stay upset when you were looking at such beautiful visuals. It was such an innocent hobby.

You almost jump as you get deeper into the book. A portrait that looks oddly a lot like you. It was a peaceful version of you. You tried to draw your own portrait of yourself before but you never liked how they looked or came out. This was different. Then, more pages were flipped and the pictures were erotic. You tried to flip past but more and more kept coming. Your heartbeat racing past, now watching two figures explore each other’s bodies. Very realistic. It felt intruding to look at.

You hear sounds from outside of the door and you slam the sketchbook closed. Just as the door opened, you were sat on the bed with just your own sketchbook.

“Everything alright?” Emily asks you. You just nod.

”Let me know if you need anything.” she says and shuts the door softly and you smile back before turning serious. You close your own book before taking out the library book that you had read all the way through.

You make your way out the door when a tired Paul walks through the door with Sam. He ups his mood when he sees you. He gets to you before Sam gets to Emily.

You pull back, smiling and out of breath. You hold him at bay, with you preventing his hands from fondling you too much.

“Where are you going?” he says and pulls you with him.

“Taking this back.” you tell him and he shakes his head.

“Just do it later.” He says and you’re pulled into his room.

The door is shut and you’re trapped between it and the front of Paul. This kiss makes your knees wobbly and he transfers to your neck and his hands opens you up. On your sides, his hands take waist and makes you grind on his hard-on. When space is available, you move to the side.

“I’ll be quick.” You tell him, raising the book. He walks towards you with a content and relaxed grin and pulls it out of your hands. He sets it elsewhere.

“So will I.” he tells you and takes the directions of his hands up under your shirt. You sigh into his mouth as your body automatically move forward on him. Openly kissing your collarbone, his hands move down and feels all on your semi soaked underwear. You pull back. You wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“We shouldn’t. We’ll get caught. I can’t even keep my voice down.” you say and try to look elsewhere.

He stares at you for a moment and nods with acceptance. That meant he really couldn’t do what he wanted to do with you.

“You should sleep. I want to talk to you without you dozing off.” you tell him and rub his shoulder.

He gives you a look and you chuckle. He lays down and right before you turn, “Lay with me until I fall asleep.” He doesn’t even let you object before you’re held on tight to him. You reach and softly sooth his scalp with your fingers running through his hair. He slowly droops his eyelids and tries his best to jerk awake to be able to look at you. But, sleep ended up winning.

You move to slide out of bed but his grip is dead solid. Even the harsher attempts weren’t working. Lightly snoring, he wasn’t waking up any time soon.

Your face was smushed into the pillow and you blink your eyes open and the room was much darker. You hear a knock. With no answer, it creaks open and Emily tells you that it’s time for dinner. You look over and one arm is around you still and another arm is covering the top part of his face. You shake him. He looks at you with tired droopy eyes even though he slept.

He takes his time to sit at the table but he makes sure he holds some of your fingers. You put food on his plate for him while Sam and Emily trail off into their own small talk. Jared walks in looking stressed out. He has a seat and eats silently.

“You know you could’ve came back with us.” Sam says to him.

“Yeah. I went to Kim’s.” he says. You put down your fork.

“How did it go?” Sam asks.

Jared shrugs, “It’s not going anywhere.” he says and just leaves it at that.

“What’s wrong with Kim?” you speak up, genuinely wanting to know.

“Nothing’s wrong with her…I just find it strange that the wolf in me likes her but the man in me doesn’t. Without the imprint, she never had or would catch my eye.” he answers honestly.

You didn’t know what to say to that.

You wash the dishes, shooing Emily away since she cooked for everybody. Sam pulls Jared to the side and Paul decides to use this time to squeeze in more sleep.

In the morning, you woke up to Paul being gone again and you decide to go home and grab your laptop. You looked around at your room and noticed you’ve went from spending almost all of your time in it to always being away from it.

You go on your laptop to log into your email. After scrolling, a subject with important characters are displayed. An illustration feature opportunity in a magazine. You accept it all of the way.

Walking back, clutching to your laptop, you decide to stop past Kim’s. Her mother wasn’t home so it was Kim who opened the door. She was dressed in out clothes and you took a seat at your favorite spot, her window sill seat.

“Jared came by yesterday.” she says to you as she flat irons her hair.

“I heard.” you say solemnly. She just shakes her head as the hot device glides down a piece of hair.

“He talked about something about only feeling something for me on behalf of his wolf.” She mutters and scoffs.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to talk to him? I can set him straight. I know how much you like him.”

Kim looks at you as if you burned her.

“No, Y/N. If he doesn’t want me on his own then it’s useless. It would feel forced.” she says and looks in her mirror that she’s sitting in front of.

“I understand. So, what are you going to do?” you ask.

“I’m going out. My cousin from Neah Bay is throwing a graduation party. I’m leaving a bit earlier because of the drive there.”

You nod. You hope it kept her mind off of the realities of what was happening here.

“You should come. When was the last time we hung out?” she says as she finished her hair.

“Erm..I don’t know…” you say and start thinking, that’s miles away from Paul and you didn’t know if you could handle it.

“Come on..You’re always with..them. I’m even leaving soon. Please?” she says and you ponder some more.

“I’m on for another project..this time in a magazine.” you say, but she just shakes her head.

“Not going for it. You’ll have it done in five seconds. Come on..Please? You’ll have a ride there and back. Plus, I’ll even let you play in my closet.” She offers. You sigh dramatically before smiling, “Fine.” She jumps up and squeals and pull you up.

“Let me just call first okay?” you say and she turns away to open her closet.

You step out of the room and sit on the steps.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers.

“Hey are you back?” you ask and he clears his throat a bit.

“Yeah. Where did you go?”

“Kim’s. Look, I might come back late tonight. So-“

“Why?” he interrupts.

“Well, I’m going with Kim to her cousin’s graduation party.” you say and you’re met with silence. You pull back your phone to see if the connection was lost. The call is still ongoing.

“Hello?” you then say.

“Where?” he asks and you tell him and that’s when things shifted.

“You’re crazy.” he says.

“What?” you say getting a bit agitated.

“You don’t even know what goes on there. Trust me. It’s not going to be some innocent get together. They’re wild down there.”

“I know myself. I’ll be okay.” You try to tell him but he wasn’t having it. He sounds more awake.

“But you don’t know them. You would be a target just because they would know you’re not from there or hang there. If I wasn’t so beat I would be going with you. Y/N, seriously.” he says through the phone.

“I’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Y/N, I swear to god-“

“Paul, I’ll call you I swear.” you hang up because Kim comes out of her bedroom and shows you what you could wear.

You blindly take it and feel a buzz on your phone.

“If you go , we’re done. I mean it.”

Your mood changed. You kept staring at it. You imagined going against the grain. A pang in your chest shoot sharply of the thought of letting Paul go.

“Shit. I have to start working for this deadline in a couple of days. I’m really sorry Kim. We’re going to hang before you leave. I promise.” you say and her face falls.

“Hope all goes well.” she says dryly, accepts her outfit back, and turns back in her bedroom.

You walk with more attitude as you walk back to Sam and Emily’s. You fly the door open, with a little bit more force than meant. Paul was nonchalantly at the table with his phone right there.

“Really? We’re done?” you then nod. “Fine.” you say and walk to his room.

“You’re absolutely crazy if you think I would let you hit that side of town.” he says and leans against the door frame.

You just shake your head and face the window not wanting to look at his face.

“No trust. What’s the point?” you mutter defiantly and shrug.

You feel a hand on you and you shrug it off. You wanted him to know how you felt so badly. He knew what you felt. He knew too much from his past experiences from just hanging around the people alone. They liked to take partying far most of the time. You having a boyfriend wouldn’t have stopped their pressure.

“I know what I’m doing, Y/N.” he just says.

“What? Be my father?”

“Would you stop being so childish? Obviously I’m trying to prevent bad news. That’s definitely not your crowd.” he says and chuckles with no humor.

”Afraid I’m going to run into many of your tramps?” you say harshly and face him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he says and you look away.

“You should ask that question to yourself. You don’t control me.” you say and walk to the front door, outside in the fresh air.

He halts your walk, “If I let you go and something does happen, then what? I’m the first person you’re going to call. I’m good enough to fix it but not good enough to prevent it?”

“Don’t worry, you won’t hear from me when I touch Seattle in a few days.” you retort back.

“You probably weren’t even going to tell me huh? So ready to fuck me over.” he says venomously.

“I would’ve had to listen to you whine about what I can’t do…Maybe..I think we need some space.” you say. You didn’t mean it but the emotion took over.

Jared comes out, and stands beside Paul with a look of concern.

“I told you. I fucking told you.” he says and shakes his head. You choose not to say anything. His gaze alone pierced through your heart. Jared tries to persuade him back in the house. You held your chest as it pounded with pain. Fighting with each other caused pain.

You two didn’t speak. You were around each other but you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. He didn’t speak because he would get angry all over again. You mostly stayed up under Emily. You helped her bake desserts before she went off with Sam.

“Trouble in paradise?” Jared asks as he bites into the sandwich he made for himself with a sweet treat to eat after. You sit down.

“Yeah. It’s my fault.” you say and look out of the window with your chin resting on your hands.

“Heard you went out with Kim. Did something happen?”

“Sort of. He warned me about the kids in Neah Bay. I was only going with Kim to her cousin’s party but…He was being controlling.”

“Not saying this because he’s my friend, but he did save your ass.”

“Kim really wanted me to go with her. She’s still messed up about the whole imprinting thing.”

Jared huffs a bit and looks off into space for a bit.

“What’s really holding you back? I mean, you can talk to me.” You offer. He seemed conflicted.

“I was honest when I said it’s only the wolf part of me who feels compelled to be around her and all. I’m not trying to be mean but…she’s plain..basic. And before you say I didn’t at least give it a try, making a simple conversation is like pulling teeth. She can’t even take a joke if her life depended on it.” he vents out and ends that with a bite.

You lean back and continue to look out of the window. He wasn’t finished.

“You two, you and Paul. You already fight like a married couple. You both liked each other before the imprint. It’s more believable for it to be “meant to be.” If I have to spend the rest of my life with someone, I want it to be fun and happy.”

Paul went with Jared to his house. You called Kim to see if she was okay but there was no answer. You were so bored. There was still youth to the nighttime. Emily and Sam were off into their bonding time.

You stayed up very late, almost morning when Paul comes through. You weren’t in bed, you were sitting on the floor with a book you brought. He still didn’t speak or look your way. He got into bed and turned over and went to sleep.

The next morning, you decided to give him some space. As he slept, you quietly took your bag and belongings and made your way home. You were listening to music when you got a call.

The person who orchestrated the illustration project for you, wanted to know if you could come to Seattle for a small interview two days from now. You accept. It’s only a drive away. Hanging up, a text from Paul appears.

“You left?”

”Yes I’m back home.”

You watched, but no text came back.

The next day, you call. No answer. You just decide to call over and over. He answers on the fifth try.

“Hey.” you speak out. He sighs a bit and mutters back a hey.

You went to him tell all of the details of your new project in Seattle. “Do you want to tag along?”

“I’m good. I’ll stay back.”

“Why not? We can wander around.”

“That moment is for you.” he just says.

“I want my moment to be with you.”

You’re met with silence again. Nobody was home, everyone had plans.

“Do you want to come over?” you suggest.

“I’ll see.” You two hang up with each other.

You dozed off, after waiting for some time. You woke up to the creak of your window being open and look over to see Paul swing himself in like he’s been doing it time and time again.

You get up and hug him. It takes him a minute to finally wrap his arms around you and when he does, it’s a very tight bear hug.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me. I messed up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you say into his lower chest. He rubs you on the back and sits you down.

“I’m not mad at you.” he says quietly. You nudge him. “Yes you are.”

“No. I’m mad at the situation but not at you.” he says and you know that he’s telling the truth. He sighs and goes on, “I don’t think you understand how much it hurts me whenever I can’t protect you. Even when it’s 100% preventable.”

You nod and look the other way.

“Come back with me.” he says and gives you the eyes to prevent you from saying no.

“I don’t know… I kinda miss my own bed.” You say to tease him.

“Please. You don’t miss it that bad.” Paul comes back with and emits a laugh from you. He takes a hold of the nape of your neck and pull you to him. Instantly you’re melted into him. He glided his hand on your bare back underneath your shirt. After a moment you pull back.

“You’re coming with me to Seattle right?” you say breathlessly.

He lifts his eyelids just a little, “Mmm maybe.” He leans back in. You pull back with a smack.

“Please?” you say and he covers you mouth with his again. This time, he gets your tongue to follow his lead. His hand move to the side of your face and you hold his forearm, trying your best to keep up with him. Ending with a soft pop, he looks at you, “You sure you don’t need space?”

Your hand is now on the nape of his neck, “I will never say that again.”

“Show me you’re sorry then.” he purrs to you and you lean forward to capture him. You take his hand and lead it straight to the point. While kissing him, you pressed his hand to your mound and move sensually, to let him feel you. He raised his hand, never leaving your skin, and discard whatever was covering the bottom part of you.

You lay back as he melts in between you savoring the taste of your lips, the feeling of his poked out flesh was making friction with your underwear covered part. His hands slide up your sides and you followed the blueprint of discarding the shirt. With unspilled drool, Paul is latched onto your spilled breasts. Taking his time with circling them each with his tongue. Your stomach sucks in, gasping occasionally, forgetting how to breathe. He moves down and puts his nose down and inhaled before going on to lick his lips. Your legs are raised with your underwear being slide down.

“Are you flexible?” he asks sensually.

“I think..so.” you answer back quietly. You soon know why he asked when he pushed your legs back making your knees separated with them pressed side by side your head. You were on full display as he looked down. A high note raised from your throat when he leaned down and lapped at you. Your head moves side to side as you could only grip onto his hair and the blankets on your bed. You couldn’t help when your body moved towards his mouth. He was precise. You grab onto his hands as he felt you up, your head was titled back and you whined about.

He pulls back as soon as you feel yourself getting closer to the white light, he shoved his shorts down and a spring of skin bobs out. His eyes never leaving yours, he touched himself softly, admiring you flushed and spread out.

He moves and flip you over him and you can finally kiss him. It was hot. It was sloppy but you both didn’t care. He nudged you to sit up, straddling him upright. You looked down as he lined you up with him. He made sure to gather the sap between you, and you took him in little by little. Thankful for no one being home, you were able to get out your whines and moans of moving back and forth on him. Pure euphoria is what you both felt. Both wanting the feeling to last forever. Your hands laid flat on his chest. His hands cupping and gripping the bottom of you, you look down as you go up and down to see him biting his lip a little as he rakes his eyes on you.

The sopping noises mixed with the small squeaks of your bed is partly responsible for producing more natural sap between your legs. Halfway off of the bed, he looked down as he pounded a steady rhythm with him holding your feet to his chest. Your body arched and you felt the tingles running throughout your entire body. He decides to slow it down, making you lose your mind, wanting him to go faster. He retracted out slow and the thrust in made you shudder without fail.

“Paul” you whine out to him. You didn’t recognize your voice. His thumb traced your pearl to match his strokes. “I’m here baby.” he says erotically. He lets your legs hang on his shoulders, lift you up a bit from the bed as you hang onto him, he pumps fluidly in and out. You now understood the feeling of someone fucking your brains out. Gasping, shuddering and shaking on him, he pulls out and rides out his orgasm. You crawl back, your body still not done trembling. You lay to your side and you moan, letting the climax pass through. Naked and all, Paul pulls you to him, carries you to the shower and he washes you. Possessively feeling all of you. Your back is facing and pressed against him, you’re crumbling all over again. Open kisses are placed on the neck as he circles his finger on your second heart, you hang onto him.

Your legs feel like jelly as you walk down the stairs. Your newly packed bag is in Paul’s hands and he lets you in the car. You felt like a lovesick puppy.

As you sit on the bed, waiting for him to join you to sleep, he flashes a mischievous glance.

“What?” you say.

“I want to sleep skin to skin.”

Flushed skin makes another debut on you as you stutter. He just laughs and kisses you on the side of your mouth, “One day.”

You made sure to bring your best examples of your work. In the waiting area, it was stressing you out. Paul leaned back in the chair, seeming to be totally relaxed. You kept flipping the pages over and over. He has a hand on your knee now and you notice that he paused the bouncing of your leg.

“Just be yourself.” He says to you.

Sitting across from two people, flipping through proof of your work, your stomach is clenched. In fact, you feel so tense all over. You watched their poker faces anxiously as they observe each page.

You already talked. They already asked the questions. You were waiting for their decisions.

A white contract is placed in front of you. They give you a week to make your mind up.

You walk out with the white paper in your hands and your shoulders are dropped due to relaxation. Paul didn’t wait for you to say the words. Your feet are off the ground. Your arms are around his neck and he nuzzled your neck while holding you in a slow swaying hug.

“Thank you..Thank you for everything.” you tell him seriously.

“That was all you, woman.”

You couldn’t have done it without him. His support. His push. You didn’t feel complete without him.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 5: Artemis, Goddess Of The Hunt]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 6.6k

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💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

“So you smoked grass in college,” Aegon says, pondering you with glazed eyes as he slurps his cherry-flavored Mr. Misty. You’re in Biloxi, Mississippi where Aemond is making speeches and meeting with locals to commemorate the first summer of the beaches being desegregated after a decade of peaceful protests and violent white supremacist backlash. Route 90 runs right along the sand dunes. If you walked out of this Dairy Queen, you could look south and see the Gulf of Mexico, placid dark ripples gleaming with moonshine. “And swore, and had a boyfriend, and presumably, what, did shots? Skipped class on occasion?”

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling sheepishly, remembering. You stretch out your fingers. “I chewed gum, I talked during mass. And I loved black nail polish. The nuns would beat my knuckles with rulers, I always had bruises. I wore these flowing skirts down to my ankles and knee-high boots. My hair was a mess, long and blowing around everywhere. My friends and I would do each other’s makeup, silver glitter and purple shadow, pencil on a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and then smudge it out. If you saw a photo you wouldn’t recognize me.”

Aegon takes a drag on his Lucky Strike cigarette, weightless smoke and the tired yellowish haze of florescent lights. Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth is playing from the Zenith radio on the counter by the cash register. “I’d recognize you.”

“I used to skip this one class all the time. The professor was a demon. I could do the math, but not the way he wanted me to. Right solution, wrong steps, I don’t know. I learned it differently in high school, and I couldn’t figure out the formula he wanted me to use. So he’d mark everything a zero even if my answer was correct. I couldn’t stand that bastard. Then the nuns kept catching me sunbathing on the quad when I was supposed to be in Matrices and Vector Spaces. I racked up so many demerits they were going to revoke my weekend pass, and then I wouldn’t be able to go into the city with my friends. So I stole the demerit book and burned it up on the stove in my dorm. Almost set the whole building on fire.”

Aegon is laughing. “You did not. Not you, not perfect ever-obedient Miss America!”

“I did. I really did.” You sip your own Mr. Misty, lemon-lime. Across the restaurant, Criston and Fosco are eating banana splits—dripping chocolate syrup and melted ice cream all over their table—and passionately debating who is going to end up in the World Series; Criston favors the Cardinals and the Orioles, Fosco says the Red Sox and the Cubs. The rest of the Targaryen family is back at the hotel watching news coverage of the Republican National Convention, something you can only stomach so much of, Otto’s cynical commentary, Aemond’s remaining eye fixed fiercely on the screen as he nips at an Old Fashioned. “I was wild back then.”

“And you gave it all up to be Aemond’s first lady.”

You think back to where it started: palm trees, salt water, alligators in drainage ditches. “My father grew up in a shack outside of Tallahassee. No electricity, no running water, he dropped out of school in eighth grade to help take care of his siblings when his mom died. They moved south to live with their aunt in Tampa, and my father wound up in Tarpon Springs working as a sea sponge diver.”

Aegon’s eyebrows rise, like he thinks you’re teasing him. “Sea sponges…?”

“I’m serious! It paid better than picking oranges or sweeping up in a factory. It’s dangerous. You have to wear this heavy rubber suit and walk around on the ocean floor, sometimes 50 feet or more below the surface.”

“What do people do with sea sponges?”

“Oh right, you would be unfamiliar. You’re supposed to clean yourself with them, like a loofah. Soap? Water? Ringing any bells?”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You’re a very mean person. Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example for the merciful wives and daughters of this great nation?”

“Painters and potters buy sponges too. And some women use them as contraceptives. You can soak them in lemon juice and then shove them up there and it kills sperm.”

“I suddenly have great appreciation for the sea sponge industry. God bless the sea sponges.”

“So my father spent a few years diving, and he fell in love with a girl who worked at one of the shops he sold sponges to. That was my mother. They got married when he had absolutely nothing, and by their fifth anniversary he had his own fleet of boats, a gift shop, and a processing and shipping facility, all of which they owned jointly. They just opened the Spongeorama Sponge Factory this past April, a cute little tourist trap. But my point is that they were partners from the start. My father listens to my mother, and she works alongside him, and it was never like what I’ve seen from my friends’ parents: dad at the office 80 hours a week, mom at home strung out on Valium, just these…deeply separate, cold planets locked in orbit but never touching each other. I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted a husband who was building something I could be a part of. I wanted a man who respected me.”

Aegon watches you as he lights a fresh cigarette, not saying what you imagine he wants to: And how is that working out? He puffs on his Lucky Strike a few times and then offers it to you. You aren’t supposed to smoke, not even tobacco—it’s not ladylike, it’s masculine, it’s subversive—but you take it and hold it between your index and middle fingers, inhaling an ashy bitterness that blood learns to crave. The bracelets on your wrist jangle, thin silver chains that match the diamonds in your ears. Your dress is mint green, your hair in your signature Brigitte Bardot-inspired updo. Aegon is wearing a black t-shirt with The Who stamped across the front. When you pass the cigarette back to him, Aegon asks: “What music did you listen to? The Stones, The Animals?”

“Yeah. And Hendrix, The Kinks, Aretha Franklin…”

“Phil Ochs?”

“I love him. He’s got a song about Mississippi, you know.”

“Oh, I’m aware. It’s one of my favorites.”

“And I’m currently getting a little obsessed with Loretta Lynn. She’s so angry!”

“She’s sanctimonious, that’s what she is. Always bitching about men.”

“Six kids and an alcoholic husband will do that to someone.”

Aegon winces, and then you realize what you’ve said. Loretta Lynn sounds a lot like Mimi. He finishes his Mr. Misty and then fidgets restlessly with his white cardboard cup, spinning it around by the straw. You feel bad, though you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t have a month ago.

“Aegon,” you say gently, and he reluctantly looks up at you, sunburned cheeks, blonde hair shagging over his eyes. “Why do you ignore your children? They’re interesting, they’re fun. Violeta invited me to help her make cakes with her Easy-Bake Oven last week. And Cosmo…he’s so clever. But it’s like he doesn’t know who you are. He might actually think Fosco’s his dad.”

Aegon takes one last drag off his cigarette and discards the end of it in his Mr. Misty cup. Now he’s fiddling with it again, avoiding your gaze. “I don’t have much to offer them.”

“I think you do.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do,” you insist. “You can be kind of nice sometimes.”

He frowns, staring out the window. You know he can’t see anything but darkness and streetlights. “I should have been the one to go to Vietnam. If somebody had to get shot at so Aemond could be president, I was the right choice. No one would miss me. No one would mourn me. Daeron didn’t deserve that. But I was too old, so Otto and my father got him to enlist. Now he’s in the jungle and my mother has nightmares about Western Union telegrams. If I was the son over there, I think she’d sleep easier.”

I’m glad you’re still here, you think. Instead you say: “Your children need you.”

“No they don’t. Between me and Mimi, they’re better off as orphans. Helaena and Fosco can be their parents. Maybe they’ll have a fighting chance.”

The glass door opens, and a man walks into the Dairy Queen with his two sons scampering behind him, all with sandy flip flops and carrying fishing rods. The dad is at least six feet tall and brawny, and wearing a Wallace For President baseball cap. You and Aegon both notice it, then share an amused, disparaging glance. You mouth: Imbecile bigot. The man continues to the cash register and orders two chocolate shakes and a root beer float. At their own table, Criston is mopping up melted ice cream with napkins and telling Fosco to stop being such a pig.

“Me?!” Fosco says. “You are the pig, that spot there is your ice cream, do not blame your failings on poor Fosco. I have already let you drag me to this terrible state and never once complained about the fried food or the mosquitos. And that thing out there is not a real beach. The water is still and brown, brown!”

“For once in your life, pretend you have a work ethic and help me clean up the table.”

“You are being very anti-immigrant right now, do you know that?”

Aegon begins singing, ostensibly to himself. “Here’s to the state of Mississippi, for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.”

“Aegon, no,” you whisper, petrified. You know this song. You know where he’s going.

He’s beaming as he continues: “If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.”

Now the man in the Wallace hat is looking at Aegon. His sons are happily gulping down their chocolate shakes. Criston and Fosco, still bickering, haven’t noticed yet.

“Oh, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes.”

“Aegon, don’t,” you plead quietly. “He’ll murder you.”

“The calendar is lyin’ when it reads the present time.”

“Hey,” calls the man in the Wallace For President hat. “You got a problem, boy?”

Aegon drums his palms on the tabletop as he sings, loudly now: “Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of, Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!”

In seconds, the man has crossed the room, grabbed Aegon by the collar of his t-shirt, yanked him out of his chair and struck him across the face: closed fist, lethal intent, the sick wet sound of bones on flesh. Aegon’s nose gushes, his lip splits open, but he isn’t flinching away, he isn’t afraid. He’s yowling like a rabid animal and clawing, kicking, swinging at the giant who’s ensnared him. You are screaming as you leap to your feet, your chair falling over and clattering on the floor behind you. The man’s sons are hooting joyously. “Git him, Paw!” one of them shouts.

“Criston?!” you shriek, but he and Fosco are already here, tugging at the man’s massive arms and beating on his back, trying to untangle him from Aegon.

“Stop!” Criston roars. “You don’t want to hurt him! He’s a Targaryen!”

“A Targaryen, huh?” the man says as he steps away, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his tattered white t-shirt, stained with fish guts. “All the better. I wish that bullet they put in Aemond woulda been just another inch to the left. Directly through the aorta.”

Aegon lunges at the man again, hissing, fists swinging. Fosco yanks him back.

“Are you gonna call someone or not?!” Criston snaps at the girl behind the cash register, but she only gives him a steely glare in return. This is Wallace country. There’s a reason why it took four years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to finally desegregate the beaches.

“We should go,” you tell Criston softly.

“Yes, we will leave now,” Fosco says, hauling Aegon towards the front door. Then, to the cashier: “Thank you for the ice cream, but it was not very good. If you are ever in Italy, try the gelato. You will learn so much.”

“I can’t wait ‘til November,” the man gloats, ominous, threatening. His sons are standing tall and proud beside him. “When Aemond loses, you can all cart your asses back to Europe. We don’t want you here. America ain’t for people like you.”

“It literally is,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “It’s on the Statue of Liberty.”

“Yeah, where do you think your ancestors came from?!” Aegon yells at the man. “Are you a Seminole, pal? I didn’t think so—!” Fosco and Criston lug him through the doorway before more punches can be thrown.

Outside—under stars and streetlights and a full moon—Aegon burst out laughing. This is when he feels alive; this is when the blood in his veins turns to wave and riptides. You didn’t think to grab napkins from the table, so you wipe the blood off his face with your bare hand, assessing the damage. He’ll be fine; swollen and sore, but fine.

“You’re insane, you know that?” you say. “You could have been killed.”

Aegon pats your cheek twice and grins, blood on his teeth. “The world would keep spinning, little Io.” Then he starts walking back towards the White House Hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~

When the four of you arrive at your suite, Aemond, Otto, Ludwika, and Alicent are still gathered around the television. The nannies have taken the children to bed. Helaena is reading The Bell Jar in an armchair in the corner of the room. Mimi is passed out on the couch, several empty glasses on the coffee table. ABC is showing a clip they recorded earlier today of Ludwika travelling with Aemond’s retinue after he made an impassioned speech condemning the lack of recognition of the evils of slavery at Beauvoir, the historic home of former Confederate president Jefferson Davis. The reporter is asking Ludwika what she thinks makes Aemond a better presidential candidate than Eugene McCarthy, as McCarthy shares many of the same policy positions and has an additional 15 years of political experience.

“This McCarthy is not a real man,” Ludwika responds, her face stony and mistrustful. “He reminds me of the communists back in my country. Did you know he met with Che Guevara in New York City a few years ago? Why would he do such a thing?”

Now, Otto turns to her in this hotel room. “I love you.”

Ludwika takes a sip of her martini. “I want another Gucci bag.”

“Yes, yes. Tomorrow, my dear.”

“What happened to you?” Aemond asks his brother, half-exasperated and half-concerned. Criston has fetched a washcloth from the bathroom for Aegon to hold against his bleeding lip and nose. Aemond is still wearing his blue suit from a long day of campaigning, but he’s taken out his eye and put on his eyepatch. His gaze flicks from Aegon’s face to the blood still coating your left hand. On the couch, Mimi’s bare foot twitches but she doesn’t wake up.

“There was a Wallace supporter at the Dairy Queen,” you say. “Aegon felt inspired to defend you.”

Aemond chuckles. “Did you win?” he asks Aegon.

“I would have if the guy wasn’t two of me.”

On the television screen, Richard Nixon is accepting his party’s nomination for president at the Republican National Convention in Miami, Florida.

“He’s a buffoon,” Otto sneers. “So awkward and undignified. Look at him sweating! Look at those ridiculous jowls! And he comes from nothing. His family is trash.”

“Americans love a rags to riches story,” you say. And then, somewhat randomly: “He loves his wife. He proposed to Pat on their very first date, and she said no. So he drove her to dates with other men for years until she finally reconsidered. He said it was love at first sight. He’s never had a mistress. And jowls or no jowls, his family adores him.”

Aegon turns to you, still clutching the washcloth against his face. “Really?”

You nod. “That’s the sort of thing the women talk about.”

There’s a knock at the door. You all look at each other, confounded; no one has ordered room service, no one is expecting any visitors, and the nannies have keys in the event of an emergency. Fosco is closest to the door, so he opens it. A man in uniform is standing there with a golden Western Union telegram in his hands. Alicent screams and collapses. Criston bolts to her.

“It’s okay,” you say. “He’s not dead. Whatever happened, Daeron’s not dead.”

Otto crinkles his brow at you. “How do you know?”

“Because if he was killed, there would be a priest here too.” They always send a priest when the boy is dead. Aegon glances at you, eyes wet and fearful.

“Ma’am,” the soldier—a major you see now, spotting the golden oak leaves—says to Alicent as he removes his cap. “I regret to inform you that your son Daeron was missing in action for several weeks, and we’ve just received confirmation that he’s being held as a prisoner of war in Hỏa Lò Prison.”

“He’s in the Hanoi Hilton?!” Otto exclaims. “Oh, fuck those people and their swamp, how did Kennedy ever think we had something to gain from getting tangled up in that mess?”

“But he’s alive?” Aemond says. “He’s unharmed?”

“Yes sir,” the captain replies. “It is our understanding that he is in good condition. The North Vietnamese are aware that he is a very valuable prisoner, like Admiral McCain’s son John. He’ll be used in negotiations. He is of far more use to them alive than dead.”

“So we can get Daeron back,” Aegon says. “I mean, we have to be able to, right? Aemond’s running for president, he’ll probably win in November, we have millions of dollars, we can spring one man out of some third-world jail, right?”

The captain continues: “Tomorrow when your family returns to New Jersey, the Joint Chiefs of Staff will be there to discuss next steps with you. I’m afraid I’m only authorized to give you the news as it was relayed to me.” He entrusts the telegram to Otto, who rapidly opens it and stares down at the mechanical typewriter words.

“I have to pray,” Alicent says suddenly. “Helaena, will you pray with me? There’s a Greek church down the road. Holy Trinity, I think it’s called.”

Obediently, Helaena joins her mother and follows her to the doorway. Criston leaves with them. Otto gives his new wife a harsh, meaningful stare. Ludwika, an ardent yet covert atheist, sighs irritably. “Wait. I want to pray too,” she says, and vanishes with them into the hall.

As the captain departs, Mimi sits up on the couch, blinking, groggy. “What? What happened?”

“Go with Alicent,” Otto tells her. “She’s headed downstairs.”

“What? Why…?”

“Just go!” he barks.

Mimi staggers to her feet and hobbles out of the hotel room, her sundress—patterned with forget-me-nots—billowing around her. The only people left are Otto, Aemond, Fosco, Aegon, and you. The fact that you are the sole woman permitted to remain here feels intentional.

After a moment, Otto speaks. “You know, John McCain has famously refused to be released from the Hanoi Hilton until all the men imprisoned before him have been freed. He doesn’t want special treatment. And that’s a very noble thing to do, don’t you think? It has endeared him and the McCains to the public.”

Aemond and Otto are looking at each other, communicating in a silent language not of letters or accents but colors: red ambition, green hunger, grey impassionate morality. Fosco is observing them uneasily. Aemond says at last: “Daeron wants to help this family.”

“You’re not going to try to get him out.” Aegon realizes.

Aemond turns to him, businesslike, vague distant sympathy. “It’s only until November.”

“No, you know people!” Aegon explodes. “You pick up the phone, you call in every favor, you get him out of there now! You have no idea if he has another three months, you don’t know what kind of shape he���s in! They could be dislocating his arms or chopping off his fingers right now, they could be starving him, they could be beating him, you can’t just leave him there!”

“It’s not your decision. It could have been, had you accepted your role as the eldest son. But you didn’t. So it’s my job to handle these things. You don’t get to hate me for making choices you were too cowardly too take responsibility for.”

“But Daeron could die,” Aegon says, his voice going brittle.

“Any of us could die. We’re in a very dangerous line of work. Greatness killed Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Huey Long, Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Vernon Dahmer, Martin Luther King Jr., does that mean we should all give up the fight? Of course not. The work isn’t finished. We have to keep going.”

“Will you stop pretending this is about America?! This is about you wanting to be president, and everything you’ve ever done has been in pursuit of that trophy, and you keep shoving new people into the line of fire and it’s not right!”

“Aegon,” Otto says calmly. “It’s unlikely we’d be able to get him out before the election anyway. Negotiations take time. But if Aemond wins in November, he’ll be in a very advantageous position. The North Vietnamese aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t kill the brother of a U.S. president. They don’t want their vile little corner of the world flattened by nukes.”

“Still, it feels so wrong to leave a brother in peril,” Fosco says. “It is unnatural. Of course Aegon will be upset. We could at least see what a deal to get Daeron released would entail, maybe his arrival home would be a good headline—”

“And who the fuck asked you?” Otto demands, and Fosco goes quiet.

“Okay, then tell Mom,” Aegon says to Aemond. “Tell her you’re going to pretend Daeron made some self-sacrificial vow not to come home until all the other POWs can too. Tell her you’re going to let him get tortured for a few months before you take this seriously.”

Aemond replies cooly: “Why would you want to upset her? She can’t change it. You’ll only make her suffering worse.”

“What do you think?” Otto asks you, and you know that he isn’t seeking counsel. He’s summoning you like a dog to perform a trick, like an actor to recite a line. He’s waiting for you to say that it’s a smart strategy, because it is. He’s waiting for you to bend to Aemond’s will as your station requires you to, as moons are bound to their planets.

“I think it’s wrong,” you murmur; and Aemond is thunderstruck by your treason.

Without another word, you walk into the bathroom, turn on the sink, and gaze down at Aegon’s blood on your palm. For some reason, it’s very difficult to bring yourself to wash it away.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s mid-August now, the world painted in goldenrod yellow and sky blue. The Democratic National Convention is in two weeks. You and Aemond are posing on the beach at Asteria, surrounded by an adoring gaggle of journalists who are snapping photographs and jotting down quotes on their notepads. You’re sitting demurely on a sand dune, you’re building sandcastles with the children you borrowed from Aegon and Helaena, you’re flying kites, you’re gazing confidently into the sunlit horizon where a glorious new age is surely dawning.

“Mr. Targaryen, what is it that makes your partnership so successful?” a journalist asks as flashbulbs pulse like lightning. “What do you think is the most crucial characteristic to have in a wife?”

Aemond doesn’t need to consider this before he answers. He always has his compliment picked out. “Loyalty,” your husband says. “Not just to me or to the Targaryen family, but to our shared cause. This year has been indescribably difficult for me and my wife. I announced my candidacy, we embarked on a strenuous national campaign that we’re currently only halfway through, I barely survived a brutal assassination attempt in May, in July we lost our first child to hyaline membrane disease after he was born six weeks prematurely, and at the beginning of this month we learned that my youngest brother Daeron was taken by the North Vietnamese as a prisoner of war. To find the strength not just to get out of bed in the morning, not just to be there for me and this family in our personal lives, but to tirelessly traverse the country with me inspiring Americans to believe in a better future…it’s absolutely remarkable. I’m in awe of her. And when she is the first lady of the United States, she will continue to amaze us all with her unwavering faith and dedication.”

There are whistles and cheers and strobing flashbulbs. You smile—elegant, soft, practiced—as Aemond rests a hand firmly on your waist. You lean into him, feeling out-of-place, bewildered that you’ve ever slept with him, full of dull panic that soon you’ll have to again.

“How about you, Mrs. Targaryen?” another reporter asks. “Same question, essentially. What is the trait that you most admire in your husband?”

And in the cascading clicks of photographs being captured, your mind goes entirely blank. You can think of so many other people—Aegon, Ari, Alicent, Daeron, Fosco, Cosmo—but not Aemond. It’s like you’ve blocked him out somehow, like he’s a sketch you erased. But you can’t hesitate. You can’t let the uncertainty read on your face. You begin speaking without knowing where you’re going, something that is rare for you. “Aemond is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. When he has a goal in mind, nothing can stop him.” You pause, and there are a few awkward chuckles from the journalists. You swiftly recover. “He never stops learning. He always knows the right thing to do or say. And what he wants more than anything is to serve the American people. Aemond won’t disappoint you. He’s not capable of it. He will do whatever it takes to make this country more prosperous, more peaceful, and more free.”

There are applause and gracious thank yous, but Aemond gives you a look—just for a second, just long enough that you can catch it—that warns you to get it together. Fifteen minutes later, he and the flock of reporters are headed to one of the guest houses to conduct a long-form interview. This will be the bulk of the article; you will appear in one or two photos, you will supply a few quotes. The rest of the story is Aemond. You are an accessory, like a belt or a bracelet. He’s the person who picks you out of a drawer each morning and wears you until you go out of fashion.

Released from your obligations, you return to the main house and disappear into your upstairs bathroom. You are there for fifteen minutes and emerge rattled, routed. You pace aimlessly around your bedroom for a while, then try again; still no luck. You go back outside and stare blankly at the ocean, wondering what you’re going to do. Down on the beach, Fosco is teaching the kids how to yo-yo. Ludwika is sunbathing in a bikini.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You whirl to see Aegon, popping a Valium into his mouth and washing it down with a splash of straight rum from a coffee mug. “Huh? Nothing. I’m great.”

“No, something’s wrong. You look lost. You look like me.”

You gaze out over the ocean again, chewing your lower lip.

Aegon snickers, fascinated, sensing a scandal. “What did you do?”

Your eyes drift to him. “You can’t make fun of me.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

There is a long, heavy lull before you answer. When you speak, it’s all in a rush, like you can’t unburden yourself of the words fast enough. “I put a tampon in and I can’t get it out.”

Aegon immediately breaks his promise and cackles. “You did what?!” Then he tries to be serious. “Wait. Sorry. Uh, really?”

You’re on the verge of tears. “I’ve been bleeding since I had the baby, and I hate using tampons, I almost never do, but Aemond wanted me to wear this dress for the photoshoot and it’s super gauzy and from certain angles I felt like I could see the pad bulge when I checked in the mirror, so I put a tampon in for the first time in probably a year. I’m not even supposed to be using them for another few weeks because my uterus isn’t healed all the way or whatever. And now I can’t get it out and it’s been in there for like six hours and I’m scared I’m going to get an infection and die in the most pointless, humiliating way imaginable.”

“Okay, calm down, calm down,” Aegon says. “There’s no string?”

“No, I’ve checked multiple times. It must be a defective one and they forgot to put a string in it at the factory and I didn’t notice, or the string somehow got tucked under it, I don’t know, but I can’t get it out, it’s like…the angle isn’t right. I can just barely feel it with my fingertips, but I can’t grab it. I’m going to have to go to the hospital to get it taken out, but I’m scared word will spread and journalists will show up to get photos when I leave and then everyone will be asking me why I was at the emergency room to begin with and I’m going to have to make up something and…and…” You can’t talk anymore. There are other reasons why you don’t want to go to the hospital. You haven’t stepped foot in one since Ari died; the thought makes you feel like you are looking down to see blood on your thighs all over again, like you’ll never have enough air in your lungs.

“Did you bleed through it? Because that should help it slide out easier.”

“I don’t know,” you moan miserably. “I mean, I guess I did, because there was blood when I checked a few minutes ago. I had to stuff my underwear with toilet paper.”

“Why didn’t you just tell Aemond you couldn’t wear this dress?”

You give him an impatient glance. “I’m tired of having the same conversation.” When do you think you’ll be done bleeding? When do you think it’ll be time to start trying again?

Aegon sighs. “Do you want me to get it out for you?”

“Please stop. I’m really panicking here.”

“I’m not joking.”

You stare at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I have fished many objects out of many orifices, you cannot shock me. I am unshockable.”

“I’d rather walk down to the sand right now and strangle myself with Fosco’s yo-yo.”

“Okay. So who are you gonna ask to drive you to the hospital?”

You hesitate.

“I’d offer to do it,” Aegon says, grinning, holding up his mug. “But I’m in no condition to drive.”

“But you are in the proper condition to extract a rogue tampon, huh?”

“Two minutes tops. That’s a guarantee. My personal best is fifteen seconds. And that was for a lost condom, much trickier to locate than a tampon.”

Perhaps paradoxically, the more you consider his offer, the more tempting it seems. No complicated trip and cover story? Over in just a few minutes? “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will never forgive you. I will hate you forever.”

Aegon taunts: “I thought you already hated me.”

You aren’t sure what you feel for him, but it’s certainly not hate. Not anymore. “Where would we do it?”

“In my office. And by that I mean my basement.”

“Your filthy, disease-ridden basement? On your shag carpet full of crabs?”

“You’re in luck,” he jokes. “My crab exterminator service just came by yesterday.”

You exhale in a low, despairing groan.

“Hey, would you rather do it on the dining room table? I’m game. Your choice.”

You watch the seagulls swooping in the afternoon air, the banners of sailboats on the glittering water. “Okay. The basement.”

You walk with Aegon to the house and—after ensuring that no one is around to notice—sneak with him down the creaking basement steps, the door locked behind you. Aegon is darting around; he sets a small trashcan by the carpet and tosses you two towels, then goes to wash his hands in his tiny bathroom, not nearly enough room for someone to stretch out across the linoleum floor.

You’re surveying the scene nervously. “I don’t want to get blood all over your stuff.”

“You’re the cleanest thing that’s ever been on that carpet. Lie down.”

You place one towel on the green shag carpet, then whisk off your panties, discard the bloody knot of toilet paper in the trashcan, and pull the skirt of your dress up around your waist so it’s out of the way. Then you sit down and drape the second towel over your thighs so you’re hidden from him, like you’re about to be examined by a doctor. Your heart is thumping, but you don’t exactly feel like you want to stop. It’s more exhilarating than fear, you think; it is forbidden, it is shameful, it is a microscopic betrayal of Aemond that he’ll never know about.

Aegon moseys out of the bathroom, flicking drops of water from his hands. He wears one of his usual counterculture uniforms: a frayed green army jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki shorts, tan moccasins. He kicks them off before he kneels on the shag carpet. He checks the clock on the wall. “2:07. I promised two minutes max. Let’s see how I do. Ready?”

You rest the back of your head on your linked hands, raise your knees, take a deep and unsteady breath. “Ready.”

But he can see that you’re shaking. “Hey,” Aegon says kindly, pressing his hand down on the towel so you’re covered. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you? I’ll try to distract people. I’ll pretend I’m having a seizure or something.”

“No, I’m okay,” you insist. “I just want it out. I want this over with.”

“Got it.” And then he begins. He stares at the wall to his left, not looking at you, navigating by feel. You feel the pressure of two fingers, a stretching that is not entirely unpleasant. He’s warm and careful, strangely unobtrusive. Still, you suck in a breath and shift on the carpet. “Shh, shh, shh,” Aegon whispers, skimming his other hand up and down the inside of your thigh, and shiver like you’ve never felt before rolls backwards up the length of your spine. “Relax. You alright?”

“Fine. Totally fine.”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely in there,” Aegon says. His brow is creased with comprehension. “No string…you’re right, it must either be tangled up somehow or it never had one to begin with. Maybe you accidentally inserted it upside down.”

“Now you insult my intelligence. As if I’m not embarrassed enough.”

“I should have put on a record to set the mood. What gets you going, Marvin Gaye? Elvis?”

“The seductive voice of Richard Milhous Nixon. Maybe you can get him on the phone.”

Aegon laughs hysterically. His fingertips push the tampon against your cervix and you yelp. “Sorry, sorry, my mistake,” Aegon says. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, on his temples; now his eyes are squeezed shut. “I’m gonna try to wiggle it out…”

As he works, there are sensations you can’t quite explain: a very slow-building indistinct desire, a loosening, a readying, a drop in your belly when you think about the fact that he’s the one touching you. Then he happens to press in just the right spot and there is a sudden pang of real pleasure—craving, aching, a deep red flare of previously unfathomable temptation—and you instinctively reach for him. Your hand meets his forearm, and for the first time since he started Aegon looks at your face, alarmed, afraid that he’s hurt you again. But once your eyes meet you’re both trapped there, and you can’t pretend you’re not, his fingers still inside you, his pulse racing, a rivulet of sweat snaking down the side of his face, his eyes an opaque murky blue like water you’re desperate to claw your way into. You know what you want to tell him, but the words are impossible. Don’t stop. Come closer.

Aegon clears his throat, forces himself to look away, and at last dislodges the tampon. It appears dark and bloody in his grasp. “No string,” he confirms, holding it up and turning it so you can see. “Factory reject.”

“Just like you.”

He glances at the clock. “2:09. I delivered precisely what was promised.” He chucks the tampon into the trashcan and then grins as he helps pull you upright with his clean hand. “So do you like to cuddle afterwards, or…?”

You’re giggling, covering your flushed face. “Shut up.”

“Personally, I enjoy being ridden into the ground and then called a good boy.”

“Go away.” You nod to where he disposed of the tampon and say before stopping to think: “You’re not going to keep that under your ashtray too?”

Aegon freezes and blinks at you. He smiles slowly, cautiously. “No, I think that would be a little unorthodox, even for me.” He pitches you a clean washcloth from the bathroom closet. “That should get you upstairs.”

“Thanks.” You shove it between your legs and rise to your feet, smoothing the skirt of your dress. “I owe you something. I’m not sure what, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Hey,” Aegon says, and waits for you to turn to him. “Maybe I’m not that bad.”

“Maybe,” you agree thoughtfully.

Just before you hurry upstairs, you steal a glimpse of Aegon in the bathroom, the door kicked only half-closed. He has turned on the water, but he’s not using it yet. Aegon is staring down at the blood on his hand, half-dried scarlet impermanent ink.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, it’s me again. I’m in solitary confinement. There’s a guy in the cell next to mine; we talk to each other with a modified version of Morse code. Tap tap tap on the wall, he taps back, etcetera etcetera, you get the idea. You’re not going to believe this, but he says his name is John McCain. Well, actually, he told me his name is Jobm McCbin, but I think that’s because I translated the taps wrong. I might be in the Hanoi Hilton, but at least they have me in the VIP section! Hahaha.

Every few hours the guards show up to do a very impressive magic trick: they wave their batons like wands, I turn black and blue. Sometimes one of my teeth even disappears. Isn’t that something? Houdini would love it. There’s a rat that I’m making friends with. I give her nibbles of my stale bread, she gives me someone to talk to. She’s good company. I’ve named her Tessarion.

Allow me to make something absolutely fucking clear.

I would very much like to be rescued.

[radical69rose]

Salvis 🩵💜

These are from me and a friend’s roleplay. They’re all relatively rushed so simmer down…

Also nobody say anything about Sal’s face pls pls, I only happened to get his good side 😭 I’ll share full doodles of Sal later. Peace n love

[kanmom51]

Like Crazy - new insights

*This is a reposting of my latest reblog due to issues with that specific post.

***This has been sitting in my drafts since April 2023!!!

This is the post I reblogged and the basis to my own post.

Yep. I had some of a post written way back in April 2023, but the pieces just didn't come all together for me.

After Muse's release and specifically after the BTB yesterday where JM discussed Who, Muse and the lyrics, we also saw the change made to Who's lyrics from "you" to "she" things started to clear up for me. But then, a friend also shared a picture of the original lyrics of Like Crazy, which were subsequently altered before recording. We discussed these changes and I now feel that this is it! This is the missing piece to my post.

I mostly left what I wrote over a year ago in tact, adding the missing pieces to this puzzle that makes this post with what I feel is a little more insight into Like crazy.

Needless to say, these are my opinions, how I see the lyrics, the ones that made the cut and the ones that stayed in JM's lyrics journal.

So, let's get started:

Here I was thinking I'm the only one who was seeing this...

I do hope I'm reading this right, before going off motormouth about something that maybe isn't what is being said, but to hell with it, this is something I've been thinking too and I'm just gonna come out and say it.

We're all over 18 here right?

This is a subject we can talk about?

The more I listen to this song, the more I think it to be true too.

First of all, before starting off, I want to link this ask:

**Shock and awe... "she" wasn't part of the original lyrics for Like Crazy . Colour me surprised to learn the same is true with Who (even though JM didn't actually write the song himself). Oh, and if we are on that subject already, how not surprising to see the process of writing the song with John Billion, who happens to be one of the writers of SNTY as well (me sitting here thinking of several words and references that could have been somehow suggested and inserted into the song. No idea who (nah, I'm telling lies, I know exactly who). How shocking (NOT) to see that the artist actually had input with the song lyrics of which he is not credited in writing.

Again, the depth of the song, the layers to the song and the multiple interpretations too.

JM told us this song is about him struggling. He told us he was going through a period where he was drinking too much. He was finding fulfillment in ways other than performing, as performing is part of him, he is a performer, someone who needs the stage to express himself. The stage is where he is at peace, the stage being a piece of him that he was missing.

We saw his outburst of emotions in the first day of MOTS ON:E (that was my first experience of BTS and he literally broke my heart - and later seeing him being mocked for it infuriated me).

This was October 2020, around 6 months into the pandemic. The uncertainty. This is their first online performance and from there until Muster another 9 months go by. We know from Festa 2022 that the pandemic screwed up all of their plans. The uncertainty, working on and releasing BE and then Butter and PTD everything leading up to the PTD online concert, a year after MOTS ON:E. For those that performing is their life, standing in front of an audience and giving it their all, it's a hard pill to swallow. The unknown, if they will ever get back to perform on stage in front of a live audience, when this is who they are, their essence, it can be unbearable. JM wasn't the only performer to go through this. It's just that he shared this with us. He showed us his pain and vulnerability and was mocked for it by many. Shame on them!!!

So, again, JM told us with Like Crazy, that he was filling in that hole. Alcohol was mentioned by him specifically. But listening to the song, I think it's quite clear that sex was a very big part of it as well. Looking for that rush, that high. It's clear as day, for me anyway, in the lyrics.

(I think we could last forever I'm afraid that everything will disappear Just trust me)

[Verse 1] She's saying Baby, don't think about it There's not a bad thing here tonight Baby, you can leave it Stay with me until today

[Verse 2] Watch me go Wet me all night (Away) And morning too Don't come if you're drunk

In this loud music It fades me It's a drama-like story I'm get used to it Have you come far to find me that you used to know? Yeah, I know You know, I know (Ooh)

[Chorus] I'd rather be Lost in the lights Lost in the lights I'm outta my mind It holds to the end of this night Every night You spin me up high The moon that embraces you Let me have a taste

[Post-Chorus] Give me a good ride (Oh, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin') It's gon' be a good night (Oh, I'm fallin') Forever you and I

[Interlude] Mmm-hmm Yeah, hey Mmm-hmm Ooh-woah Mmm-hmm Mmm-hmm (Forever, you and I)

[Verse 3] Me reflects in the mirror I'm going crazy without hesitation I'm feelin' so alive, wasting time

I'd rather be Lost in the lights Lost in the lights I'm outta my mind It holds to the end of this night Every night You spin me up high The moon that embraces you Let me have a taste

[Post-Chorus] Give me a good ride (Oh, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin') It's gon' be a good night (Oh, I'm fallin') Forever you and I

[Outro] This will break me This is gonna break me (Break me) No, don’t you wake me (Wake me) I wanna stay in this dream, don't save me Don't you try to save me (Save me) I need a way we (Way we) I need a way we can dream on (On, on, on)

Those are the lyrics he recorded.

But you see, there were changes made to the lyrics he was working on originally, and we got to see some of them.

This specifically:

Reading this draft and the final ones there are a few things that just fall into place for me (and I'd think for anyone that reads them), loud and clear:

First of all, obviously JM is singing about drinking too much alcohol. If the final lyrics hinted to losing himself in alcohol, the draft lyrics are ever so clear regarding that point.

Second of all, the sex. I think JM was pretty straight forward using the wording he was using. "Give me a good ride" can be other things, if you twist it around to try and explain it away, but bottom line, those lines within the context of the lines in the draft, like "just go turn off the light, you and me..." not to mention the whole chorus, to me the reference is obvious.

Next, I talked about the many references to JK in this song in this post:

This is all also relevant when it comes to my next point being the fact that to me it's clear that JM wrote this song referencing a special someone with whom he shares a high level of intimacy. A special someone that was there by his side when JM was struggling. A special someone that was struggling seeing JM going through everything he was.

To that person JM wrote (in the draft): "oh baby don't you cry, just wanna see your smile..."

These lines, they were too much. Too obvious. Too intimate. And they were left out probably because of just that.

So JM went with other lines. A little less obvious perhaps, and yet still very telling. The finale of the song:

No, don’t you wake me (Wake me) I wanna stay in this dream, don't save me Don't you try to save me (Save me) I need a way we (Way we) I need a way we can dream on (On, on, on)

Now, you could claim that the song is about an inner struggle. JM struggling with himself, talking to himself, and yes, that could very much be part of the message JM, the king of layering, is going for. But see, that's exactly the point. JM is the king of layering, of having several meanings and messages within his lyrics and creations. And this is not different. There is no mistaking the reference to another person, not JM himself, in the lyrics. The way he uses the "you" in the lyrics, at times could pass as you being the alcohol, at times the you being himself in the mirror, but at times it's clearly a third party he is talking to. Especially in that finale to the song, that someone that wants to lift him out of that stupor he is in, to wake him up, to save him, when he is unwilling, not ready to accept that help just yet (same person he asks not to cry, knowing that he is making them sad). There are also the clear JK references in this song. The "you are me I am you" being the loudest of them all.

But JM being JM, he showed us in his own way what this song was about, opening up and allowing us to see his drafts.

And then he gave us Letter. Hidden, and private and intimate. Addressed not to us, but to that person that was always there by his side, that person he addresses in Like Crazy telling him "forever you and I". Now, in Letter, being in a better, healthier place, he can repeat the sentiment of them together forever. A sentiment JK had mentioned in the past (omg, that was so very awkward).

And now using lines like : "I sincerely hope we are forever" and "But don’t forget that we’re always together"...

The lyrics, the sentiments, the drafted lyrics that never made it, like the use of "Dangshin", I have talked about it all. Letter was for JK. Period.

When seeing Like Crazy again, the lyrics, the struggle, the person by his side, the intimacy, and Letter, I'm kind of thinking that not only is Letter a love ode to JK. That is stating the obvious. But it's also JM's acknowledgement and thank you to that person that stood by his side in his most difficult of times.

JK.

Bottom line:

Like crazy is about JM struggling and self medicating with alcohol and sex.

It's personal about himself, his struggles, but also includes a person that is there by his side, one he is highly intimate with, one who is there with him together. That person is there, spending the nights with him, in that escape world JM created for himself. Sad seeing JM struggle, trying to find a way to help JM out of that pit but being unable to do so, staying by JM's side all the same.

We know who that person is.

Same person he addresses Letter to.

[zepskies]

Bullseye

Pairing: Alec McDowell x F. Reader

Summary: Alec’s tired of being ignored. Whatever you’re reading can’t be as interesting as his company, now could it?

AN: This was requested by @flory-alexandra. Thank you, lovely! 💜 I just finished Dark Angel and this was too good to resist!

Word Count: 800 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only for some spiciness.

“Babe,” Alec tried, for the second time.

He knew you heard him.

You were (supposedly) lost in your book, languidly turning each page, sometimes licking a finger to make that part easier.

He had a feeling you were doing that one on purpose. Each new sight of the tip of your tongue made his gaze zero in on your pretty mouth.

“Hey,” he said, a little more pressing.

He managed to get your eyes lifted over your book. “Hmm?”

You were stretched out on the couch, still wearing your pajamas. He was sitting in a lounge chair nearby, bored out of his damn mind. It was a rare day where the two of you had a day off work at the same time. The least you could do was pay attention to your boyfriend.

He dug his hand into his big bag of popcorn and shoveled a handful into his mouth.

“I’m going stir crazy in here,” he complained around a mouthful of kernels. “Why don’t we go do something?”

Your brows knitted together.

“This is the first time all week I’ve gotten a chance to read my new book in peace,” you said. “Why don’t you go hang out with Joshua? He’s all by himself, cooped up in that house.”

Alec sighed. “The guy’s freakin’ Picasso. He spends all day painting.”

“It’s good he has a hobby,” you said absently. “Now shush. I’m reading.”

He rolled his eyes. “By all means, continue reading your smut in front of me.”

You shot him a narrowed look for that one, but he spied the edge of your curving lips, your telltale blush. The cover of the book left little to the imagination.

“Shut up,” you replied with a giggle.

Alec smirked. 50 Shades of Whips and Chains, or whatever the hell, he thought.

His girl was a freak. But then again, so was he.

With a loud sigh, he reached deep into the popcorn bag and grabbed another handful. Whatever he couldn’t fit into his mouth, he chose to pick out one and a time and toss at you.

The first one fell by your side. That, you could ignore.

The second one hit you dead in the forehead.

You lowered your book and glared at him.

“Alec,” you said flatly.

He gave you a lazy grin and tossed another. It fell down your V-neck shirt and into your bra, right between your breasts.

His smugness intensified, and he shot you a cheeky look.

“Bullseye,” he said.

Your brows rose. You set down your book (making sure to dogear the page you were on) and you reached into your bra to find the elusive piece of popcorn.

You scrutinized it for a moment. Then you popped it into your mouth.

You had the nerve to wink at him as you chewed.

Alec was wide-eyed for a moment…but all too soon, his Cheshire grin was back. He had the look of a predator as he watched you lick the salt off your fingers with nonchalance.

You didn’t seem to notice him sliding off the chair. The moment your head turned his way, he pounced.

His superior speed had him on top of you before you even realized he’d moved, and you squealed with laughter when he pinned you down on the sofa by your wrists.   

He smirked down at you unrepentantly.

“So you’re just gonna tease me all day, is that it?” he said.

He leaned down and spoke near your ear. “You think you’re gonna get away with that?”

His voice had the power to make you shiver with delight, but it was his teeth grazing the shell of your ear that did it. His lips and tongue made a sensuous path down your neck.

Alec let go of your wrists to let his hands drift down your sides, delving under your threadbare shirt that you so often wore to bed. His movements were slow and calculated as he inched the shirt up your body and over your head.

He unclipped your bra with a practiced hand. Once he’d freed the straps from your arms, he tossed the satin cups away, making you giggle. 

You took his face in your hands and met him with a searing kiss. You already felt his desire pressing against your inner thigh. It made heat flood down between your legs, right where you both wanted him to be.

The book laid forgotten on the coffee table. Probably for the rest of the day, if Alec had anything to do with it.

Sometimes he annoyed the hell out of you, but he could be very persuasive...

So you decided to put your hobby aside and give your man some much needed attention. 

AN: This one's short, but I had a lot of fun with it. 😂💜 Let me know what you think!

Alec's such a fun (and deceptively complex) character. I so enjoyed exploring him more in the mini series I have coming up in January: "Being Human." In case you missed the preview I posted last week, here it is...

👀 Sneak Peek:

Alec sighs and crosses his arms. “When are you gonna stop putting the freeze on me?”

“When I’m not part of your internal checklist of Breasts on Legs,” you retort. Glancing around the bar, you note three other girls you’ve already seen him shoot his shot with tonight.

Alec scoffs and holds his chest.

“That’s hurtful,” he claims. “It really is.”

But he shifts toward you in his seat, cutting off your smile. Your face warms at his proximity.

Damn, he smells good, you think.

“Besides,” he says, “I always save the best for last.”

His smile makes your heart beat faster...

Alec McDowell Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Alec M. Tag List:

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

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@waters-2567 @iwishiwas-sleeping @jessjad @pieandmonsters @akshi8278 @honeybabycherry @deans-spinster-witch @angelbabyyy99

[sitp-recs]

Hello!! Thank you for this blog really its been so lovely reading fics from the master list I've discovered drarry because of you! My favorite "trope" so far is draco who's struggling a lot but manages to preservere and even find humour in the worst situations. I find his character that way truly inspiring. Do some fics like that come to mind? I'd love to hear your recommendations and to read more fics like this

Hi anon! Welcome to Drarry, I’m so happy to see you enjoying the lists 💜 I love a struggling Draco who’s still proud and snarky and a little shit, that’s such a great take on the trope! Here are some recs focused on Draco’s resilience and perseverance. You can also check GallaPlacidia’s archive, who usually explores this trope in a sweet and light-hearted way. And if I can add something on the angstier side, Take A Chance On Me by @mintawasalreadytaken and Winner Takes It All by @skeptiquewrites are two underrated masterpieces among my top favorite down & out Draco fics. I’ll come back to add more titles as they come to mind. Enjoy!

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (E, 11k)

Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter.

The Year of Non-Magical Thinking by whiskyandwildflowers (E, 13k)

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Potter. I'll think of something. So will you. But this is my journey to self-actualization," Draco managed to smirk. "You can fuck off and get your own."

Open For Repairs by @drarrytrash (M, 35k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

The Vanishing Department by @dictacontrion (E, 47k)

The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, even if that involves a lot more form-filling, bickering, covert glancing, miscommunication, and flying furniture than we might expect.

Heal Thyself by astolat (T, 47k)

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.” “What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 77k)

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 103k)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy by DorthyAnn (E, WIP)

Draco lost his home and the only society he knew after the war. He ended up living in the muggle world, making new friends and new connections and maybe some sort of peace. Even if that peace was usually found at the bottom of a bottle. It was enough for him. He was content to just exist. Then Harry Potter decided to ruin everything.

[whiskeyskin]

Make Me Feel

Premise: What's that? The well trodden trope of weird potion creates problems of the - ahem - 🍆 variety? Well if you insist.

• Astarion x gn!tav • 18+ • E/M rating

They/them pronouns, Potion mishap!, interrupted masturbation, handjob, bj/deep throat, embarrassment, tone shift, mild canon trauma discussion, connection, enthusiastic consent, communication, dirty talk.

4.1k words

Edit: RAHHH! You're all so wonderful for getting me over 200 notes 😚 it may be a small number for some but to me it's a lot. Love you! 🥹🖤

Editedit: Over 400 notes?! Excuse me as I ugly cry 😭😭😚✨

Thank @northernolddragon for the beautiful screenshot 💜🥵

•°•°•

Tav was on watch with Shadowheart this evening, not that they really needed to with Gale's wards keeping an alarm on things coming in or out of camp but they all slept better with a night watch.

They'd enjoyed company and conversation as they spoke about everything and nothing. Mostly about Tav, since Shadowheart had very little memories to share.

A friendship had steadily grown with them, so much that she'd revealed herself a Sharron - which wasn't really a shock.

A low alarm pulsed and they went to investigate to the left of camp but after a little cooperation between Tav's survival skills and Heart's perception, concluded that an animal had triggered the alarm - hence the low pulse and the fresh animal tracks belonging to a rabbit.

Tav paused a moment, a thought flashing across their mind. They called to Shadowheart, "Hey, did you hear Astarion come back in from hunting?

"No, he didn't go out tonight. Said, 'he had something else to attend to'."

Again, Tav paused. Oh, shit. Had they promised he could feed tonight and completely forgotten?

"Are you supposed to be 'dining tonight'?" Shadowheart asked through a smirk.

"I don't think so.. maybe? Oh, gods. Maybe I did say." Said Tav, trying to think back on the day.

"Go check on him, see if he's waiting up for a midnight snack. I'll stay on watch." She pursed her lips and swished her long braid as she walked to do a patrol of the camp.

~~~

Tav quietly made their way passed the tents of their companions, who were softly - or loudly - snoring. Astarion's tent however still had a candle going and made no sounds of sleep, or revery but rather stranger noises. Hissing sounds from the side of his mouth and what seemed like a painful gasp.

Their brow creased with concern, Tav stepped up to the entrance of his tent. The noises intensified.

"Astarion?" Tav called through the fabric in a hushed whisper, "Are you alright?"

A choked noise of frustration replied to them first, "Uh-yes. I'm perfectly fine. Why do ask?" He retorted a little too sharply, despite his usual lulling tones.

"Shadowheart said you hadn't gone hunting and I couldn't remember if I'd agreed to let you feed tonight."

"Ah, you're such a sweetheart.. while I always delight in our little nightly visits, I've rather got my hands full with something at the moment." He strained, like he was in pain. Something wasn't right.

"Astarion. What's going on? I know something's wrong. What is it? What have you done?" Tav asked, exasperated.

"Ughh, it's nothing just-Arghh" he let out a muffled cry.

"I'm coming in." Tav announced, pushing their way inside the dimly lit interior.

"No, no, don't!" But it was too late.

Tav's mouth flew to their face, shocked at the view.

There, on the floor, in only his ruffled shirt and barely covered in his grotty blanket was Astarion. Although, the blanket was more of tent itself with what it was shielding.

"Oh! Oh, shit. Sorry-sorry! I'll leave." Tav blustered at the sight of the half naked pale elf on the floor before them. They'd clearly not been sounds of pain, and the frustration was aimed at them not leaving him to masturbate in peace.

"No, stay. Please." He croaked, desperate, "I don't know what else to do; I need your help."

"With what?" Tav questioned, averting their eyes to afford him some sort of privacy.

"I appreciate the gallantry but we can do away with the charade, you know what I was doing." He sulked, shifting his weight to sit up, the ruffles on his shirt bristling as he heaved himself upwards.

Tav's eyes tracked the movement and flitted down to the protrusion, unwavering in it's vigil against the thin protection of his grey comfort rag.

Hot flashes of memories seared their mind; remembering how it felt in their hands, hot and cool at the same time. Harder than rock as he'd moved within them, expertly stroking their sweet spot while feeding openly on their blood.

Tav bit their lip, then jolting back to the situation, looked away.

"Um, you said you needed my help. I don't know how I can-"

"I have been.. doing this to myself for the past three hours. It's incessant."

"Jeez, Astarion. I don't need to know that."

"Not for my own selfish good. I-" he growled to himself, it made Tav's stomach flip uncomfortably, "I drank something. It looked like a normal potion, but it tasted a bit off.. and now, this." He gestured to the distinct lump, "It's unbearable and painful if it's not being.. used." He paused, discomfort clear on his face.

A blush flooded Tav's cheeks, "Aaand, you want me to help by..?" They trailed, needing more explanation. Because if he was suggesting what they thought he was suggesting...

"Ugh, I don't know. This obviously isn't helping! Find something that can? Another potion, a spell? Anything!" He waved his arms helplessly into the air.

Astarion looked up at them; his shirt in disarray, his legs gently folded with the blanket tucked between them, with guilty but adamant eyes. He looked helpless and adorable.

A feeling was stirring in Tav's chest, something rumbling and loud but it wasn't arousal, it was laughter. They caught a snicker behind their hand, trying to hold in their amusement.

Astarion's face changed to surprise, with a big frown cutting across his beautiful features.

"Well, thanks a lot. Glad the bleeding heart thinks it's funny." He pouted.

"Oh, come on Astarion. It's pretty funny."

Astarion's eyes narrowed, "How precisely is this funny?" He demanded.

"It's so unfunny that it's funny again. It has to be laughed at how ridiculous this is. I mean, come on." They tried to explain, "you drank a strange elixir and now you have an erection that won't fuck off." Tav barely made it through the last word without sniggering, "You've been beating yourself stupid and it's not going anywhere. It's a fucking ridiculous situation to be in and if you can't laugh about it? Fuck." They shrugged, smiling brightly and encouraging him to see the funny side of this ridiculousness, "I thought you said Lae'zel was the one with no sense of humour."

"Actually, Lae'zel is hilarious. She just doesn't realise she's being hilarious," The frown on his face softened, a smile clearly fighting to spread across his face, "I suppose it is absurd. Most men would kill for this."

"Most people would pay good money for this problem!" Tav squeaked, "Oh gods, the old men that have given all their gold for this problem!" They whined out before coming down to kneel on the floor.

"All of them furiously masturbating to get rid of it after their mistress has left and their wife will notice." He chuckled.

"Oh, the scandal." Tav flourished.

"What would the neighbours say?" He jested, opening up to the idea that the incredulity of it all needed to be laughed at.

He mimed trying to push it down only for it to spring back up with a pop sound effect provided by him and they fell about cackling together.

It was nice. Seeing him smile.

~~~

They sat laughing for a while, trying to come up with unfortunate scenarios to find yourself in with this predicament. Each as hilarious as the next.

Howls turned giggles, and giggles turned to titters, until eventually they were all laughed out.

There was a comfortable silence between them for several moments. Tav glanced back at him.

"Did that help? Taking your mind off it?" Tav asked, hopeful.

"I'm afraid not. Still there. Although, it's taken away the urgency of needing that release."

"That's a start at least. What the hell's did you drink?"

"I don't know, it was in the pack from today's adventure with the hag."

"You drank one of the hag's potions?" Tav chided, incredulous.

"Of course not! What do you take me for?"

Tav raised their brows and wordlessly gestured to his lap.

"Point taken," he relented, "but, no it was a regular looking potion bottle. I needed a little healing, so I.." he trailed off, loosely waving a hand.

"You drank a random potion from today, before we'd had a chance to examine it and expected nothing to go wrong. You brought this on yourself." Tav pursed their lips mockingly.

"Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, dear. What am I going to do?" He asked, exasperated.

"Well, masturbating yourself sore hasn't worked, so it can't be about orgasming it out of you."

"Oh, I haven't orgasmed. That's what I was trying to tell you before, but in my feverish haze didn't get out into words properly."

"After three hours?" Tav asked, wide eyed.

"It was more stop/start than powering through. I'm drawing the assumption that while this potion grants me this bloody thing, it doesn't heighten the sensation much."

"Maybe it deadens it? To keep it going longer? That's why you couldn't.. yuh know." Tav mimed the action for affect. They shared a small titter through their noses.

"I haven't a clue. Although, I'm not really.. versed in this sort of thing. It's not something I do, not something I've done for centuries," he admitted, shrugging, "Self pleasure wasn't high on the list when the thought of touching anyone, let alone yourself made your skin crawl-" Astarion caught himself, his eyes widening.

Tav's mouth gaped, "What?" The question came out breathy and low. Hurt struck painfully into their heart, "So the night we spent together you were disgusted-"

"-No. No. Well, at first it I was a little but-"

Tav's eyed widened and they recoiled, wounded. He knew he'd revealed too much and Tav could see that flawless mask of his was trying to slot back into place after it's momentary lapse.

"Don't." Tav urged, "Don't pretend you didn't say it."

"It wasn't like that-I didn't mean you, you're wonderful. I meant in Baldur's Gate with Cazador. The manipulation, the deceit. I couldn't. I never." He stopped himself.

Tav softened, the harm still stinging but this was important. Astarion had never spoken about his time with Cazador apart from being a slave and using sex to lure people back. He hadn't elaborated more than those facts. Obviously, he would have sexual trauma.. and he'd opened up a chance at the conversation.

"It's alright. I'm here to listen. Go on." Their tone was low and understanding.

His face full of uncertainty and shame, Astarion shook his head and refused to look at them.

"I don't want to. Not yet. Not now. I mean.. I just want this thing gone." He motioned to his still swollen member.

Tav's brow knitted and they shrugged heavily.

"Apart from distracting you from it, I don't know what I can do." Tav raised their hands in exasperation, "I mean if you can't do it after three hours, what am I supposed to do-"

"Trust me, you'd be able to help." He said darkly, almost to himself. His gaze darted back, scared by another accidental confession. Tav's confused expression must have been clearly legible.

"What do you mean?"

Astarion averted his eyes, clearly debating on letting more of his secrets out.

"Shit." He cursed. There was a pregnant pause that Tav refused to break.

"You-" he stopped himself, "the other night at the party was- it was-" he shut his eyes and sighed through his nose, "I can't do this, you can leave. I'll just keep this forever."

"Astarion.." Tav said softly, gently reached a reassuring hand to the floor beside him.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and swallowed.

"It was the first time I've known actual pleasure in almost 200 years. Where I actually enjoyed myself, much to my surprise."

Suddenly feeling relieved and very flattered, Tav remained stone-faced silent, encouraging him to keep going.

"My existence has been about having my body used to lure back pretty things for him. To get them to trust me and let their guard down, then.." he trailed off, "I tried to make the most of it and relish in the copious amounts of sex I was having.. It didn't last long. I got extremely good at pretending I did, they never suspected a thing." He said with a sneer.

"I became numb to the entire experience. It was nothing to me. A dance. A deception. It became second nature and I got used to the disgust I felt, I used it to push through. To hold onto some semblance that I had one shred of humanity left. As long as I despised myself for what I was doing, there was still hope."

"So imagine my shock when I actually felt something different with you. Something good." He finally looked in their eyes, "You are a bastion of firsts in this newfound freedom of mine. My first true blood, the first person who has let me indulge in my instincts and helped me grow in my power," Astarion swallowed, "the first person in so long to make feel something.. anything.. during sex that wasn't hatred and self-loathing."

Tav's throat closed and tears threatened to brim but they blinked them back.

"You offered your neck to me, your life blood to me and I felt something.. it wasn't like our usual feeds.. it was something immense.. something transcendant and I.. I lost myself in you.. wholly. Pleasure had returned to my body and I froze. I didn't know what to do."

"Nothing else existed outside us.. and I could have spent the rest of my life buried inside you," he paused, closing his eyes as if the memory over-powered him. Tav sat there, breathless, mesmerised by his beauty in the candle's soft glow.

"I think I came back to consciousness when I saw my seed over your beautiful body. You looked just as shocked as I felt. It was all over your chest, your mouth.." he was breathing heavily now and the air around them shifted. Tav swallowed dryly. They remembered.

The grunting, ecstatic moan he'd made just before he came over them echoed in their mind long after. They'd pulled back from lavishing his thick, pale cock to pause for breath and to whisper sweet words to him. He'd erupted on them with no more than a silent gasp and a hand fisted in their hair.

Staring deeply into Tav's eyes, Astarion continued, "You took me so well," he brought a hand to their bottom lip, grazing it lightly with his fingertips, "With your mouth.. with all of your holes, actually. Your wonderfully tight holes." He moaned through a sly smile.

Tav's mouth was aridly dry, as all the blood in their body rippled and pooled to their core. Heat radiated through them and quickly made breathing steadily a problem, and logical thinking was non-existent.

"I know you could do it again, if you wanted to." He closed his eyes and snaked himself closer against Tav's neck, inhaling deeply. His breath cool raising gooseflesh, as he pressed his lips against the shell of their ear, "You could wrap those soft lips around my cock and suck me like you did in the forest. So deep and so warm."

Tav's thoughts were like wading through thick, soupy mud as Astarion's words clouded their mind and flooded their body with desire.

"I've never been devoured quite like that, you fit yourself around me so well.. you were such a good f-"

Tav quickly brought their hand to his mouth. He had to be silenced. His seductive power was too much to leave unbridled.

Mentally shaking off his charms, Tav came some what back to their senses.

"In one breath you tell me how disgusted you are with sex and the next you say about wanting my 'tight holes'? What is it that you want, Astarion? You can't have it both ways."

"Of course I can, darling. Now I can. Things have changed. Lots of things. I have my body back and I decide what to do with it. And right now.." he moved with the lithe limbs of a panther to sidle himself beside them, the grey blanket gently pulling back to reveal his thick, swollen manhood. He exhaled at the softness leaving him, "I want.."

Tav swallowed hard, their lips parted. Another wave of euphoric desire swept over them as the cool touch of his skin ghosted against theirs.

Astarion reached over and grasped their hand and placed it on his engorged cock.

"This." He hissed as their skin finally touched, his cool hardness welcome in their palm.

Gods, he was so erect. The veins in his thick shaft pulsating. The velvet softness of him thrummed with desperate need.

He was so close to them, so close now.. they could kiss if he wanted them to. Astarion breathed against Tav's mouth, "Touch me."

He started to move both their hands in short bursts over the head of his penis, Astarion shuddered out a gasp and screwed his eyes shut, "Touch me. Please."

Tav willingly acquiesced, bending down to spit on his painfully erect cock and began to work.

He made a staggered, breathless moan as he leaned back on both hands, exposing himself to them. Tav pumped his rock hard length in a steady rhythm, remembering back to the Tiefling party that he had appreciated the gentle building of friction, to fruition.

His head was purple and looked sore from his abusing himself for so long in search of relief. Tav generated salvia in their mouth and spat on their other hand to use on him.

The sweetest moan they'd ever heard sang from Astarion's chest.

"Yes-yes-use your hands on me.. make me feel like before.. make me feel-" he gasped through the last word so ferociously he inadvertently bared his fangs.

Tav used their hands in symbiotic motion; pumping the bottom of his shaft with their non-dominant, while teasing and playing with the head between their deft fingers, all the while keeping his entirety slick in saliva.

Gods, they wanted to use their mouth on him properly. He looked so beautiful, unmasked before them. He had been so unexpectedly naked and raw with his past. Revealing hard and difficult truths regarding his lack of control, and autonomy of his own body.

And Tav had to respect that, no matter how aroused they were. They would show that his trust was placed rightly in them.

"Astarion?" They called softly to him.

He answered back with a broken, "Mhm?"

"Thank you for telling me what you did. I won't tell anyone else, you have my word."

"Mm-mm-thankyou, Tav." He managed, his voice tense.

Tav slowed their pace and Astarion let out a whine, balling up his fists in frustration.

"Don't pretend with me. Don't force it."

"I'm not, I swear." He gasped, looking directly at them, a light sheen of sweat appearing on his upper lip.

Tav smirked, "Promise you won't."

"Yes-yes, I promise. Please speed up again." He pleaded through gritted teeth, thumping his head back on the pillow.

"I will. But I'd like to use my mouth on you aswell, would that be okay?"

He let out a pent up huff of air, "Oh gods yes, yes, yes-please use that gorgeous mouth on me. Swallow me. Take me."

Tav smiled and quickly got into position, propped between his legs, "I'd also like to play with your testicles, if that's agreeable."

Astarion wrenched his red hot eyes open, making contact with theirs again. Tav irked a suggestive brow.

A devilish grin crossed his face, once again his fangs shone in the dim candle light, "Oh, my dear. That would be most agreeable." He purred through steadier breaths now they had paused.

"One request from me though; don't push my head down, I don't like it. I'll respect your wishes and you respect mine. Deal?"

"Deal." He smiled and reached down to collect his shirt up to reveal his pale, chiseled body. Tav looked hungrily at his toned flesh, desperate to snake it with their tongue.

They took a breath to ask but Astarion interrupted, "Yes, gods please yes! Lick me, kiss me, bite me, suck it. Do what you want with me.. I'll tell you to stop if it's too much."

"I'll hold you to that." They crooned with a serious edge, as they spat on their hand again, then manoeuvred themselves to be able to kiss his beautiful body, and pump the head simultaneously.

He twitched at the increase in contact and laughed hungrily through strained teeth, "Uhhgh, fuck yes."

Tav lavished their lips and tongue across the defined muscles, gently sucking and nibbling occasionally for added sensation. They kissed and dragged their tongue up and down the V in his hips, paying equal and excruciating mind to each side, making Astarion moan and buck.

Tav firmly pressed kisses on the creases of his pelvis, breathing hot over the area. They took their time, languishing over his form with their mouth, exploring the contours of his hips and thighs with their spare hand. Astarion groaned in vexation.

"Ooh, don't tease me. Please."

"The potion is making you impatient. You enjoyed this last time." Tav reminded him.

"It's not the bloody potion-Gods above-AUGH-I'm asking nicely. Don't keep me waiting any longer, I've already been edged enough. Show me-make me feel-let me feel-"

Astarion gasped as Tav collected the precum that bloomed at his tip, and licked their fingers clean, before deftly angling themselves to engulf his thick cock as much as they could.

The noises that were illicited from the pale elf were unlike any they'd ever heard before - strained and trembling, through gritted teeth and grounded fists - and the sloppy, wet sounds that their mouth made around his unyielding cock were intentionally and debaucherously pornographic.

Momentarily retreating, they began flicking their tongue over the slit, Tav moaned from the back of their throat like he was a tall mug of water quenching debilitating thirst. One hand holding his length steady, the other lightly grazing his testes.

Astarion's thighs fluttered and tensed, as Tav heard a smile through his own moan, "Ooh, that's new."

"Mhm."

Gathering more sleek, Tav ran the flat of their tongue up the smooth underplane of Astarion's cock from base to tip, and encircled the head. His member twitched unconsciously as he let out a warm, low rumble from his chest.

"Is that alright? Not too much?" Tav asked, checking in. They kissed the crease of his frenulum, while nimbly massaging and squeezing his sac.

"Mm-mhm-yes. I'm gaining quite an appetite for your skills in this area." He cooed, shifting underneath them, "but I remember a rather more deeper approach last time."

Tav grinned at his less than subtle request, "Oh, my darling. We're just warming up.. but if you're ready for more. I will, of course.. oblige."

Unhinging their jaw like a snake preparing to consume their pray, Tav gorged on the willing partner in front of them.

Astarion sucked in a gasp and Tav felt a hand on the back of their head briefly, before being removed hastily. Tav heard his fist pound into the bedroll beside him. They moaned in thanks, vibrating against his solid shaft.

He replied with a deep rumble from his chest, "Yes.. that's what I've been missing. This is what I needed.."

Bobbing and dipping, taking just a little more in their mouth each time. Sucking and stroking his perfect length. Their mouth salivated and filled with lubricant, anticipating the meal in front of them. Meeting their lips on their pumping fist, working together harmoniously.

Tav relaxed their throat further and began swallowing the last length of him, valiantly suppressing the need to gag until it would afford the most pleasure. They flattened their tongue and swallowed, sucked and gagged as Astarion whimpered and moaned, unconsciously jerking. Tav placed a hand on his hips to steady him, to not ruin the mood by choking unexpectedly.

They pressed down just above his pubic bone as their lips bottomed out against him, tears forming wet stains under their eyes at the challenge of taking his full size. Tav gulped and gasped against his cock, enveloping him with their tongue and throat working in tandem, coating him in liquid slick. The debased, vile sounds coming from their meeting wet and loud and hot as the hells; pushing him higher, dragging him under, coercing him to cum.

He gasped and raised his head to look down at them. Tav met his tear-streaked, claret gaze, with their own.

"Ohh-yes-yes-look at me as you devour my cock-take it all the way down your throat-such a good-nasty-AHH-YES!" He gargled the last word through moans and his hips pulsated and thrust wantonly as he bunched his shirt in his hand, the other fisted around his greyed rag blanket.

His brows creased, his face wracked with pleasure and pain. His face contorted and twisted as he writhed and moaned. He panted and heaved and shook his head from side to side.

Concern furrowed their brow at his expressions, while he seemed to be "enjoying himself", they were reminded of his words from their conversation, that his sexual conquests couldn't tell that he was pretending.

Tav pulled back to breathe through their nose. They reached out with the tadpole and gently stroked his mind, seeking reassurance that this was what he wanted. That he wasn't pretending. That this was real. That this was what he wanted.

That enthusiastic consent was all they required.

"Yesyesyesyes-oh gods-please don't stop-choke on my cock till you can't breathe-ARH-going to cum down your throat and taste myself on your tongue-fuck!-fuck my hard cock deep in your throat-do it-do it-doit-doit-doit" he repeated, trailing off in whimpers against his soiled comfort blanket.

This was a challenge that they would unabashedly attempt to conquer. They had no idea if they could; he hadn't fed on them this time and the potion was an unknown quantity for help, or hindrance. They had no idea. But damned if they weren't going to try. Tav steeled themself and took a deep breath.

They made no illusions at a slow build in tension, they went straight for the kill.

Straining down his hard length to the hilt, making the most illicit and disgusting sodden noises as they consumed him, squeezing him with the throat that tried to resist his intrusion.

Astarion growled and whined and shook with the tension in his body coiled so tightly.

Tav stretched their jaw to lap their tongue against his balls, which tightened due to the expected feeling. He rewarded their efforts with another mumbled, half coherent onslaught of praise and explicit desires.

They re-applyed the pressure on his pubus, pushing down firmly against his taut skin.

A breathless gasp shot from his throat as the hand bunched in his shirt now flew to grasp their hand with choruses of, "yes-yes-yes!"

He was so close, they could feel it. His precum tainted the back of their throat. His jaw was tight and his glistening fangs were bared.

Tav remembered back once more to what had unexpectedly tipped him over the edge when they'd made him cum the last time.

Concentrating hard on keeping the fast-paced rhythm, tears streaming from their eyes, they flipped their hand to hold his properly.

Tav reached out through their connection and whispered, "I've got you, Astarion.. you're safe. Nothing bad is going to happen to you, I promise.. I have you.. Cum, Astarion.. cum, my love."

Astarion stilled, his every muscle contracting and seizing, his chest rising off the floor as his spine curved.

A gentle, surprised gasp escaped from his mouth. He squeezed their hand so tightly as their name died on his lips.

Suddenly Tav felt warmth shoot against the back of their throat as he came hot and quick, filling their mouth and spilling out the sides and he thrust wildly, unable to control his movements. His cries of pleasure muted and gasping.

Tav gagged and slowed to a gentler pace, swallowing him down. Astarion twitched and quivered as they saw him through his climax; still holding each others hand.

His soft, whimpering groans dissolved into laboured heaves as he relaxed into the lull of his orgasm.

A moan shuddered from him as Tav expertly extracated his thankfully - slightly - softening member from their stretched throat.

They tenderly cleaned him up with their tongue, as there was quite a lot that had spilled from his heavy, metallic-tanged load, while Astarion lay there in stunned silence.

Tav dried their eyes and gently rested their chin on his thigh and sighed deeply, their hands still joined on his stomach.

They kissed his cool skin, "Are you alive up there?" Tav asked, jokingly.

Silence.

If he wasn't already dead, they'd have thought he'd died.

"Astarion?"

"M'alive." He mumbled in a stupor.

"Good." Tav said through a wry smile.

They looked to their left where his cock was already starting to swell again and sighed.

"I don't think it worked, you're getting hard again."

Still nothing.

Tav furrowed their brow, "Do you hear me up there?"

Still nothing.

Starting to worry, Tav raised themselves up and started padding their way one-handed up towards his face. His crimson eyes were fixed on ceiling of the tent, drying tears still streaked down his temples.

"Are you alright? Was it too much?" Tav asked, worried they'd gone too far.

He finally blinked.

"My body feels like it's.. weightless and.. empty. My head feels like.. I've been zapped with a.. shocking grasp.. and my ears are ringing." His tone was high and dazed. His every move tinged with exhaustion. His expression one of pure contentment.

He was fully in an afterglow bubble. That was better than potentially traumatised.

Tav pursed their lips with pride, "Sounds like a good orgasm then. Was it?" They asked, feigning innocence.

Astarion gave a long blink and turned his gaze to Tav, who lay to the side of him.

"You've rendered me paralsyed. I think we can call that a success, don't you?"

Tav chuckled, "Well, a semi-success. You've still got your problem." They gestured a thumb towards his now alarming erection again.

"Oh no, that's not the potion. That's me."

Tav jerked their neck in questioning confusion, "Eh?"

"I'm laying here sprawled on the floor after one of the best orgasms of my long life. Two of whom have been granted by you.. and the only thing I can think of.. is that I need to do that again."

Tav bit their bottom lip through a grin spreading across their face.

"But we said that that night was a one-time thing and this is an extraordinary circumstance.. this isn't supposed to-"

His pale pink lips came up to capture their first kiss of the night and from the passion and force behind it, it was not to be their last.

Astarion slid his fingers to their umber trousers and cupped them through the fabric. Tav gasped against his mouth as they twitched within his grasp, the damp spot of their arousal staining their clothes. They sucked in Astarion's bottom lip into their mouth and cursed.

"Well, apparently that arrangement needs to be renegotiated." He smirked, as he kissed them deeply, sweeping his tongue to taste himself there.

He brought his hand to the buckle, "And these definitely need to come off."

•°•°•

Psst.. hey..👋 you want some more smut? 👀

[amourdivine]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 🤍 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒.𝐏. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 & 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔?

Hello, lovelies! This was a suggested reading from a dear anonymous.  It had a more romantic subtext, but I hope you take out what resonates & leave what doesn’t! If you have any more suggestions, so let me know! Feedback is always welcome. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ amourdivinetarot@gmail.com! xo. ♡

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how to choose your pile.  take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

♡ ♡ ♡     pick a card masterlist & information

disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.

PILE ONE 💜

what do they think about you? ten of swords • eight of pentacles • six of cups.

I just heard Coldplay’s “The Scientist”, specifically the bit in which he sings “take me back to the start”. I wonder if you two had a fight, some sort of falling out or heavy disagreement. They think they’ve lost you - this is weighing heavy on their mind. They wish they could go back to when things were simpler, when things weren’t so difficult and anxiety-inducing. I think they feel a lot of shame and blame as well (I heard “blame game”) and I’m not going to lie, pile one, this person may be overthinking this connection, especially the way they see it. It feels heavy, like my chest and my throat are holding so much energy but nothing comes out. They’re not thinking clearly, despite thinking so much, it’s really difficult for them to “think” a way out of this situation you’re in. However, they do wish to work towards a peaceful resolution with you. They want to find a way to make things feel lighthearted and happy for the two of you again. This person could also be listening to a lot of heavy/sad songs, because so many of them are coming through to me. They’re experiencing a lot of self-hatred and very difficult emotions are going through them. They’re mourning some kind of happy ending, but they’re still willing to salvage the relationship if that's something you also desire.

how do they feel towards you? the empress • ace of swords • page of pentacles.

Gosh, there’s so much love here. They not only miss you, but they want to talk to you… to ask you how to work this out. They just want it to work it out between you two, pile one. Even if it’s difficult, like I mentioned in the previous section, they only want you. They don’t see anyone else for them. They don’t want to let you go, to lose you. It’s why their mind is so foggy and so clouded with poor judgment, they feel a lot of despair over the thought of losing the love you two have and shared. If your connection ended, they’re still not over it - they’re refusing to move on, simply because in their heart, they’ve decided it’s you. And I don’t think they’ve fully voiced it out just how much they want you, but they intend to do so. No matter how painful this situation has become, they hold some sort of hope that you’ll want to work things out with them too. They love you in a pure, devoted way and know how unique, how beautiful this connection is.

channeled messages: “i hate myself for what i did to you”, “i can’t forget you”, “you’re beautiful”, runaway, empty roads, highways, road trips, memories, polaroid pictures, “i wish things were easier”, “you betrayed me”, burning bridges, “do you still love me?”, deja vu.

channeled song: ghostin’ by Ariana Grande.

PILE TWO 🩷

what do they think about you? the magician • the lovers • the world

I couldn’t name a more beautiful spread. They put you on a pedestal, sort of - this person sees all that you are and they’re amazed. They admire you, they love you and they can’t see anyone else but you. This person’s got heart eyes when they look at you, maybe their eyes sparkle - pay attention next time you speak to them in person. Although they may wonder if they’re good enough for you, this person truly, deeply is inspired by you. It’s possible this is a friend of yours who’s crushing on you and vice-versa, but neither one of you is willing to admit it yet. This is a dreamy vibe, even, I feel like I’m immersed in Piscean energy. Maybe one of you is Neptune dominant or has Pisces in 1st. It’s the feeling of a high school crush, the intense, beautiful and almost soul-crushing one, but the kind of connection that has a lasting impact. Even if you haven’t known this person for a long time, they are eager to know more about you, all the little things that you do and say are stuck in the back of their mind. They don’t take it for granted. You’re extremely important to them, regardless of the nature of this relationship, you’re someone they want around.

how do they feel towards you? three of cups • five of wands • nine of swords.

They’re anxious, because they’ve got some heavy competition. Even if they see all these positive qualities in you, this person is afraid they’ll ruin the friendship by risking it. So many people are interested in you, that they’re afraid of rejection, afraid of all the people vying for your attention and sometimes, they just wish they could get rid of these feelings already. It’s possible there’s a 3rd party situation going on - either you or them could be in a committed relationship and there’s a lot of guilt and anxiety involved. You’re this person’s wish come true, but they don’t know what to do. They’re stuck in their head about it, fantasizing about coming towards you, talking to you and not feeling so insecure or jealous when they see you with someone else. I got the vivid imagery of someone seeing their crush talking to someone else at a party and being almost soul crushed by the fact that they’re so afraid of approaching the other. It’s giving me fanfiction vibes (in the best way possible, I promise). I’m almost sorry for this person because they’re so blindsided by their pessimism that they can’t fully see a way into being with you, no matter how much they want to. They know they need to make a move before they lose you for good, though.

channeled messages: “i’m so sick of love songs”, “i just want to talk to you”, instagram, DM’s, subtle flirting, “are you alone tonight?”, crush, “i feel invisible”, insecurity, jealousy, bonfire party, college life, “give me back my jacket”, inside jokes.

channeled song: Are You Bored Yet? by Wallows ft. Clairo.

PILE THREE 💖

what do they think about you? eight of cups • six of cups • the devil.

“Gone for good”, I just heard that. My playlist started playing sad breakup songs too, it’s honestly a little heartbreaking and quite bittersweet. This person thinks, well, they know you’ve left them behind and you seem done with them. You left them and they’re triggered. They’ve got so much going on in their head, always filled with “what ifs”. Your connection has turned sour and they think you wanted to pursue something better for yourself, something that didn’t trigger the both of you so much. I feel like this connection may have turned toxic, so they know you needed to leave, but nonetheless, they’re grieving, they’re sour and bitter. I don’t know if this person was heavily immature towards you or even disrespectful, but you left them on a chokehold because they didn’t expect you to simply walk away so easily. I don’t think it’s been easy for either one of you. I’m more so feeling a situationship or a friendship kind of vibe here, not a full, official commitment. Everything they see in you is almost a projection of their worst fears. All your worst traits mirror back to them, calling them to do some soul deep healing. I saw the Death card in the back of my mind, so I think this person knows it’s time to move on, to let you go, but they’re still obsessing over this ending you’ve had and it’s possible they lurk on your social media. It’s not an evil or malicious energy, but they’re not in a good headspace to talk or see you right now.

how do they feel towards you? two of swords • knight of cups • ten of wands.

Sometimes they love you, they miss you. Sometimes they just hate everything that came to be about the two of you. They’re tired, overburdened by their feelings, so sick of feeling so much and nothing at the same time. This person can’t really pinpoint exactly what they feel for you, but I got nauseous and almost sick to my stomach? I think they just wish they could erase this pain forever, but sometimes, they wish they could get some closure from you as well. It’s possible they wish they could give you some closure as well. All these messy feelings are taking their time in this person’s heart and body, but I think this connection, as triggering as it may have been, has brought up a lot of things back into the surface. Regardless of how they feel about you, it all ties back to their wounds, their feelings and themselves. I got some heavy Scorpio feelings in the last section and now I’m getting some Libra - I feel like those were significant energies and placements for your pile. This person’s not only heartbroken but almost… burnt out by everything that went down. They’re slowly trying to heal, to let go and forgive, but they’re not having the easiest time. I don’t think they’re “evil eyeing” you in any way, but I also think some distance will do the both of you some good. I feel like Spirit wants to emphasize how good this ending will be for you.

channeled messages: “you deserve better”, “i want to go back to who i was, mental health, physical health, “get over it”, 777, friends with benefits, messing around, fuck around and find out, taylor swift, moved on, finally, second chances, “i was a second option”, simply unrequited.

channeled song: Berenstein by The Band CAMINO | extra: Favourite Song by Tim Chadwick.

PILE FOUR 🩵

what do they think about you? the magician • ace of cups • six of swords.

You’re so nurturing, healing and magical. This person sees you as some sort of fairy, a beautiful, wholesome person who’s got so much love to give and to receive. Even the song that started playing is one of my favorites, a very healing and soft one. They see you as a safe person, an Earth angel, someone who’s almost like their lucky charm. The vibes here aren’t only romantic - they fit for friendships and familial relationships too. They’ve got a lot of fond memories and stories of you. I see someone going through a photo album and laughing to themselves in joy. This person sees a lot of good things in you and you’ve given them some sort of renewed faith in connections and humanity. They know you’ve been through a lot - they see you’re still healing. Every now and then, they catch glimpses of moments when you’re not feeling so good, but they still see your potential and growth nonetheless. I think your words and presence calm this person down. They value your advice immensely, all your words of wisdom and encouragement. I feel like Gemini and Leo are significant placements for this pile - I got the Strength card in the back of my mind, with the woman caressing the lion in the card. You bring calm and softness to this person’s life.

how do they feel towards you? queen of pentacles • ace of pentacles • two of wands.

I heard “wife you up”, lol. If this is a romantic connection, this person wants to offer you a deeper form of commitment - in whatever way that means for your connection. I feel like this person is smitten by you, even if you’re friends, you’re their closest, most prized friend. They’re making plans for something bigger, something greater between the two of you. This person views you as someone they could have ultimate success in every way, someone trustworthy and someone they intend on making accommodations for to fit in their life. It’s so soft and sweet, I see a woman arranging and rearranging pillows in a soft-looking bedroom to make sure her guests will be comfortable during their stay. I think they’re making room for you in their heart and mind, even their home as well. Maybe they haven’t told you, but they’re giddy to have met you and to spend more time with you. If this person proposes to you soon, please don’t tell them I told you! I’m not trying to ruin their plans, but let me say your connection has some really sweet, lovely surprises along the way. If you get engaged though, let me know, pile four. I’m really happy for you!

channeled messages: “fight for you”, “let me love you”, acts of service, bouquets, rainy days, “put your head on my shoulder”, “it’s okay to cry”, “i want to be there for you”, “you don’t have to pretend with me”, cupping someone’s face in your hands, comfort food, hugs, ice cream, care bears, pisces, cancer, healing, therapy, inner child. 

channeled song: Room Service by Holly Humberstone | extra: Break For You by Valley.

amourdivine. 2021 - 2023 © do not copy, redistribute or edit my content.