#play some sweet tunes at close quarters.

[mariocki]

Rollercoaster (1977)

"What do you want me to do?"

"First, Harry, I think I should tell you about the bomb. Would you like to know where it is?"

"Sure."

"You're holding it."

[copiawife]

surprise visit

summary: blair stops by copia's office during the day, and he can't get enough of them.

word count: 666 (hell yeah)

warnings: none! just some silly fluff with early relationship copiablair ^^

Blair walked with much more pep in their step than they had before on their walk to the Cardinal’s office, the folder tucked under their arms practically forgotten. It was meant to be the main reason they were even going there in the first place, but there were much more pressing matters. They were practically skipping, and humming a lighthearted tune. Stopping at his door, they knocked, and cleared their throat before putting on a more professional tone.

“Cardinal?” They asked, and not but a few seconds later the door swung open, and a familiar leather-clad glove grabbed them and pulled them into the office, shutting the door quickly and making them squeak with surprise. They immediately found themself pressed up against the door, with their boyfriend Copia hungrily kissing them, first on their lips before trailing down what was exposed of their neck.

“H-hi, honey bun!” They let out a giggle at his eagerness, their hands instinctively draping over his shoulders and pulling him closer to them.

“Mm, I missed you,” He murmured in between kisses, as he left lipstick marks they were sure they'd have to fret over hiding before they left.

“Didn't you just see me this morning?” 

“I know, I know, but I just can't get enough of you…Did you miss me?” His eyes sparkled as he looked up at them, almost pouting.

“Of course I did, my love,” They brushed their nose affectionately against his before returning his kisses with the same affection. “And I’ll see you again tonight, I assume?” Copia was backing Blair up against his desk now, and they hopped up without much effort, wrapping their legs around his to pull him close.

“If you'd like to,” He bobbed his eyebrows up and down suggestively, earning a giggle from his partner. As they went to stabilize themself by resting on their hands, they were reminded of what they came here for.

“Oh! Right! I have…this!” They awkwardly put the folder down on the desk behind them. “Expenses. For the tailor. Sorry, didn't mean to kill the mood,” They muttered sheepishly. “Where were we?”

“We were discussing whether or not you'd be joining me again tonight for a midnight snack, I believe.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Copia snickered at their response, now back to kissing them. Ever since they got together, he was insatiable, always needing his hands or his lips on them every moment they were alone. This…thing, whatever it may be, was still very new and so they had decided to not tell anyone for the moment, relishing the stolen moments like this they could have together. This hadn't stopped Blair from coming over almost every night lately though, staying up late enough that no one would be out to see them making their way to their Cardinal's quarters, and leaving in the early hours of the morning, before anyone was up and about to see them leaving with tousled hair and before they covered up the love bites with a high-collar blouse and some concealer. It was disastrous for their sleep schedule, but to say it was worth it is an understatement.

“Mayyyybe, but also I was hoping you could bring some of those cookies you said you were going to make, they sounded quite tasty,” Blair snorted out a laugh.

“You've really got quite the sweet tooth, hm?” Blair played with his hair absentmindedly before seeing the clock on the back wall. “Oh shit, I've got to get back!” as they tried to get up, Copia resumed his affections, this time his moustache ticking their neck making them giggle as they playfully pushed him away. “I have to go! My boss will wonder where I am,” They said with a snort of a laugh as he held tighter to them.

“Tell him your Cardinal needed your assistance with something, and stay just a little while longer,” His breath was soft against the shell of their ear.

Well, they weren't going to say no to that.

[randomvarious]

French Downtempo Playlist

Alright, folks, I swear to you that I did not actually intend for things to happen this way, but it looks like I'm gonna be doing some France-playlist-posting over the next couple weeks during these Paris Olympics. So if you want your sports-watching experience to have an added aura of French surreality to it, then give this downtempo playlist a listen. As I'm currently typing this, I've got it paired with women's skateboarding, and I gotta tell ya, it really is quite a vibe ✨.

And this week I've got a small update for it, with a sweet, dreamy, and silky add from Paris' own Kid Loco, whose "Flyin' on 747" first appeared as the closing track on his brilliant DJ-Kicks mix for German label !K7 in 1999. Most of that mix is super duper, out-of-its-mind stoned, but this tune in particular is just a very relaxing and head-nod-inducing, cinematic piece of late 90s string-keys-and-hand-drum chillout 😌. Currently at over 2.55M plays.

Kid Loco - "Flyin' on 747"

And I added this song to the YouTube version of the playlist too. Normally, I have other tracks that aren't on Spotify to add to these YouTube versions, but none for this week. However, if you want a handful of rarer tracks, like the heavenly 1993 opener that is Orange's "Quarter 2: Le Fruit," then do yourself a favor and check it out!

And this playlist is also on YouTube Music.

So this update now brings us to 15 songs that clock in at around 90 minutes, but over on YouTube, we're at 20 songs that clock in at nearly 2 hours! And previously, the Spotify version had a couple more songs on it too, but unfortunately, they were removed and I can't replace them. The YouTube version still has them, though!

And I've got more French downtempo playlists too, broken down by region/city and decade, in case you ever want to hone in on something that's a bit more specific.

1990s French Downtempo: Spotify / YouTube / YouTube Music Île-de-France Downtempo: Spotify / YouTube / YouTube Music 1990s Île-de-France Downtempo: Spotify / YouTube / YouTube Music Paris Downtempo: Spotify / YouTube / YouTube Music 1990s Paris Downtempo: YouTube / YouTube Music

Next week, French trip hop!

Enjoy!

More to come, eventually. Stay tuned!

Like what you hear? Follow me on Spotify and YouTube for more cool playlists and uploads!

[strongfuck]

@stingslikeabee:

A promotion to senior project manager; comfortable living quarters; his favorite food prepared for dinner, courtesy of his longtime girlfriend-turned-wife; and even a long awaited vacation trip to Dionysus, which had been the focus of most meal conversations between Rhys and Melissa. All was well with Rhys Winz, really. (Or so that was how Rhys was supposed to feel.) Greeted at the door by Melissa, the woman offered him a smile followed by a sweet kiss, manicured fingers going for his chin next while the brunette examined him. Rhys seemed... Distant. Not the usual self that returned from his current job and acted according to the routine he was supposed to follow given the memories he had, and that had Melissa worrying slightly. Luckily, to play someone's wife had a few perks - like feigned care and concern for a beloved one. (All part of the job description, of course.) "Did something bad happen today at work?" Melissa asked with a voice that sounded innocent, tender touching him over the face. The woman allowed a hand to move upwards, brushing lightly over the scars close to the port on his temple. She enjoyed his cybernetics, after all; all part of the memories tailored for the engineer. "Come tell me all about it over dinner - I'm sure you'll feel better in no time," another kiss, this time on his cheek, and Melissa pulled him inside by the hands - she played the part of attentive wife well enough, although she was indeed interested in anything that caused mood fluctuations and any sort of changes to Rhys' usual routines. "I made your favorite for dinner, sweetheart. If you're still upset by the end of our meal, then I can think of a nice dessert to sweeten the mood," Melissa smiled, leading the couple to the dining area. (It didn't hurt that Rhys was the best assignment she had in a long, long while.)

"Mm... something happened."

Most days, Melissa's lips against his own work as a fantastic balm against the otherwise cutthroat life that Hyperion expects of him. Granted, the kiss did make him relax some-- his shoulders slump a little, and a sigh he hadn't realised he'd been holding in comes out through his nose-- but it doesn't quiet the discord that'd begun growing in his head since today's little... incident.

He doesn't want to talk about it. Almost. Which is strange, considering he's never not wanted to tell Melissa about his day. From day one, even before they'd been married or even engaged, Rhys had told her that it was important to him that they were honest with each other. But then he'd never had any truths that he imagined would make Melissa resent him.

Now, though, as he sits and watches Melissa busy herself with setting the table, he swallows the lump in his throat. His hands aren't shaking, thankfully, and he undoes his necktie and pops the first two buttons of his shirt he waits for her.

Once the spread is ready and Rhys gets to look it all over-- hummus, salad, pita, falafel, and even some baklava-- the corners of his mouth tug up some. For someone whose favourite food changes constantly (there's just so much in the galaxy to taste!), Melissa's ability to be in-tune with whatever Rhys is obsessed with next will never cease to amaze him. That's a good thing, at least.

"It all looks great," Rhys says, not wanting to be unappreciative even amidst the white noise in his head. "How'd you find the time to do all this?" It'll be easier, maybe, to speak of something lighter before he really digs into the meat of his day. "I mean, even the baklava..."

[stargazer-balladeer]

Random Imagines [Genshin Impact - girls]

[ boy edition ]

- qiqi’s, klee’s & diona’s are all platonic

nervously shifting her legs on the ground, amber shyly presents you a plushie version of yourself that looks similar to the design of baron bunny. she bit her lower lip in pure nervousness as she imagines worst-case scenarios if you didn’t like it. gulping mentally, she nervously smiles as she takes a peek of your expression before looking down again. “happy anniversary.” she quietly said, hoping to herself that you’ll like the gift and that her mind finally calms down.

ayaka smiles as she takes a sip of her tea right outside her house with her beloved by her side, the sakura tree’s petals fluttering around them wonderfully, making the atmosphere more romantic. it's been a while since she last spent her time with you, so she makes sure that it’s spent with zero interruptions. turning to you as she started the conversation with a sweet, serene smile on her face. listening to you starting to ramble on about a topic that interests you, with a look of admiration present in her face.

feeling thankful that you saved her from the crowd of fans, barbara guided you to a secluded area where she often visited to have peace and quiet. she lets you rest your head on her lap as she softly hums a tune, which slowly switches to an actual song. a concert exclusively for her biggest fan with no worries of being judged. smiling if you join in on her singing, even if your voice isn’t as good as hers, she considers your voice divine like the anemo archon.

laughing lightly as she noticed her significant other getting tipsy after drinking a bottle, beidou stood up and announced that she and her lover would be going back to the quarters early. as the celebration continued behind her, she carefully picked you up bridal style and brought you to her quarters. her eyes widened when you started to ramble how much you love her before letting out a small smile and ruffling your hair, minding her own flushed cheeks. 

diona hisses at the stranger who was obviously taking advantage of your kindness while screaming how disgraceful they are for trying to use you. wanting to teach them a lesson, she takes a step forward but you stopped her with a reassuring smile. huffing but obliging to your wishes, she only glared at the stranger, mentally memorizing their faces so that when they visit the bar, she would ask the traveler to mix up a horrible drink. after all, no one messes with you and gets away from it. 

her eyes widened as she saw how you got hit from the active ruin guard, with eyes full of vengeance, eula gracefully yet deadly strike it on the core, effectively making it inactive once more. quickly rushing to your side as she eyed the obvious injury that the ruin guard caused, she cursed to herself for letting it happen. she quickly tended your wounds as she said her usual line of vengeance will be mine while coaxing you to not fall asleep. 

fischl excitedly retells the stories she loved to you while being held by you in the bed after a tough day full of commissions. her prinzessin persona dropped completely as she started from the very beginning while playing with your hands. a soft smile present on her face, happy to share something she loved to you, her significant other. 

embarrassed at your request, ganyu shyly looks away while looking down, fully presenting you her horns. a pink dust appeared on her cheeks when she felt your hand softly yet carefully trace the design of her horns. the warmth of your hands against her horns made her at peace as the initial embarrassment went away, replacing it with comfort and tranquility.

smiling mischievously as her eyes landed on your unsuspecting figure, hu tao carefully and quietly navigate herself to you. she tries to conceal her excited giggles behind her hand as she crept up behind you. she stayed there for a while before quickly wrapping her hands around your waist and shouting “boo!” in your ear while giggling madly.

waking up at the sound of the birds chirping, jean slowly opens her eyes as she yawns. she blinked a couple of times to get the sleepiness out, once her vision was clear, her eyes quickly landed on your still-sleeping figure. she smiles as she brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, softly calling your name in hopes to wake you up. hearing you groan in protest, she pressed a quick kiss on your lips, promising to give you more if you wake up right now.

keqing huffing as she loudly makes her side of the argument, her face almost turning red due to the anger she’s feeling. she knew she was right, so why were you insisting you were the one right and she was in the wrong? not wanting to back out from the argument, she accidentally says something she regrets. after the adrenaline of the argument evaporates from her veins, she quickly realizes what she said as she quickly pulls you into a hug while quietly apologizing.

whilst keeping her company while in solitary confinement, klee happily hums a tune she heard from barbara as she draws on a piece of paper you gave her along with some crayons. patting her head while she does her task, she looks up to you expectantly with her huge doe eyes, showing you what she drew. guessing from the color schemes of the two figures, you figured it was you and klee. happily praising her with her drawing, she excitedly grins at you. 

the fatui agent screamed in terror as a cryo attack hit him, hitting him square on the chest. shouting profanities, he looks at who attacked him to give them a piece of his mind only to fear his own life. standing right behind you, in all her glory, was la signora, otherwise known as your lover. she clicks her tongue, staring at the agent with judgement, before turning her attention to you. cooing sweetly at you as she checks for any possible injuries before telling you to stay in her quarters as she deals with a pest. 

lisa blinkes in surprise at the scenery before her, the library now deserted from people is decorated with a festive decoration. the table she used to have her tea time with is filled with food, from cakes to cookies, it even has her favorite tea among it. the scent of her favorite filled her nostrils as her eyes landed back on your figure, who was fidgeting from nervousness. laughing softly when asked if she likes it, she coos at you and brings you into a hug. you really are adorable, too much for her heart. 

her eyes widened when the door leading to her room opened, lumine looked up to see you in the doorway, the light from the outside pouring in the dark room. she looks away while blinking away the tears gathered in her eyes, why did you have to see her like this? hearing the soft thud of a closing door, she felt the bed shifted and warm arms wrapping around her. your hot breath in her eyes as you whisper comforting words in her ears. deciding to finally drop her guard down, she clings to you and starts bawling. why did her brother leave her once again?

surprised at your question of your future, mona coughs in her fist as she decides to fulfill your curiosity, also with a promise of giving her mora even though she declined it at first. she let the chart of the astrology signs appear before her and started doing her fortune-telling stuff. seeing her nod as she stares at the constellation of what appears to be yours, you noticed that her face bursted into red. worried for her, you asked her what’s wrong and she could barely put out a coherent word from her mouth. she huffed as she looks away, hiding you from her view via her hat, her mind racing at the image of you settling down with her. 

ningguang confronts you one day about your distant behavior with her, her eyes scanning your body, picking up your nervous tics along the way. she tilts her head as she looks at you with expecting eyes, even though her face remains stoic, her eyes are practically pleading for you to tell her what happened, did she do something wrong? sighing at your explanation, she stood up from her chair and made her way to you. pulling you into a chaste kiss, she smiled at you, reassuring you that everything would be okay.

gently waking you up from your nap, the face of a worried noelle appeared after you opened your eyes. smiling gently at you while stating that she finished preparing the soup and medicine and it’s time to eat. she frowned when you told her you don’t want to eat, to which she responded “you won’t get better if you won’t.” deciding the best option is to feed you, she scoop up a spoonful of soup and encourage you softly to open your mouth. her eyes lit up when you complied with her wish. after feeding you and making you drink the medicine, she changed your wet towel on your head and gave it a kiss, hoping to barbatos that you’ll get better soon. 

qiqi looks up at you expectantly while raising her arms up, asking for you to carry her. because you can’t physically or mentally decline a sweet child like her, you lifted her up like she wanted and adjusted your hold on her so that she wouldn't fall off. wrapping her arms around you and smiling happily, you continued to traverse liyue harbor while carrying her.

watching you in amusement as you struggled to try to get a kiss from her, rosaria chuckled when even if you were standing on your toes, you still couldn’t reach her. seeing you pout at her, she gave your cheek a pinch while cooing at you. after having a deal with you, a kiss in exchange for a wine in the tavern, she gave you your desired kiss after rolling her eyes at your expecting face.  

while looking through her notes, sucrose heard you hum while doing your daily house chores. looking up to peek at where you stood, washing the dishes while swaying slightly and humming a tune. she smiles as her focus soon shifts to listening to you humming instead of focusing on her notes. noticing that the shy girl was looking at you, the said-girl let out a tiny shriek and quickly looked down to her notes. chuckling at her adorable action, you continued to wash the dishes as she went back to her notes. 

xiangling blushed profusely at the sight of you holding out a bouquet of flowers with a bag of jueyun chili on your other hand. she covered her face with her hands, incoherent words leaving her mouth as she tried to process what she’s seeing. you must’ve flustered her too much. chuckling at her reaction, you set down the bag and the bouquet at a table and wrapped your arms around her, patting her head to calm her down. 

excitedly yet nervously strumming her guitar in front of you, xinyan took a deep breath before starting to strum her guitar for real and began singing her heart out. she hopes you’ll like the song she composed, exclusively for you. the one and only fan she has that endlessly supported her through her rockstar career. she smiles at you brightly as she continues to sing, bobbing her head up and down. this is who she is, and she’s glad she found someone like you. 

feeling someone’s disappointing gaze on you, you look up to meet yanfei’s gaze with a frown plastered on her face. drunkenly greeting her, she shakes her head as she exclaimed she’ll be bringing you home now. it was a bit difficult as you kept wanting to wander off but she somehow managed to bring you home in one piece. plopping you down on your couch, she sighs as she mumbles that she became your babysitter and quickly fetches you some water. after some difficult time once again to make you drink water and the ending being successful, she stares at your sleeping face before letting out a sigh once again. why do you keep choosing someone else when she was right here by your side the entire time? 

[jenomark]

➔Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Oral (F+M) + Penetration (F) + Cursing ➔Word count: 3,659

➔Summary: Two realtors who play together, stay together. Whenever you and Jaehyun work together, you make a little bit of a mess in the homes you're trying to sell for your clients. After all, no one ever said you couldn't have a little fun on the job.

“Your boyfriend is so charming.”

You were showing a married couple around a brand new house, built in a neighborhood they most likely could not afford. While the husband was checking out how the door handles jiggled on every door in the place, his wife leaned in close to your ear, her voice deeper than the fake customer service voice she had in the beginning of the tour.

You could hear the accusatory tone, her words felt through every layer of your reserve, “How did you get a man like that?”

If she could have circled around you, like a huntress ready to take her prey out, she would have taken the chance. You held your ground, so used to the way women acted around Jaehyun. But there was a certain amount of fun to be had when you were bored and waiting, your day's work blemished by couples who believed they were hot shit.

“Just between me and you,” you purred, leaning in closer to her and stroking her arm with your finger. “He’s not my boyfriend. We just like to fuck each other at work."

You never blamed any of the women for looking at Jaehyun like he was a prized hog in a show. He was handsome on the outside, his face so valentine sweet, his smile disarming even the most hardened of ladies. He wore a tailored suit nicely, too, which made the effect that much cavity-inducing. On the inside, though, he was a filthy, filthy man, and he would never go for someone like the wife, as much as she wanted him to.

No, Jaehyun wasn’t your boyfriend. Jaehyun wasn’t even your partner. He came to the house dressed up in the part of a wholesome realtor, his eyes following the wife across the room, forcing eye contact that would make her feel warm underneath her collared blouse. He did it because it was fun for him. He did it because he could.

It was a game. Jaehyun eye-fucked the wife to tease you. He liked when you wore jealousy like a proud bib. He waited for you to take possession of him, which you always did in the subtlest of ways. Watching the wife back away from you after claiming that you and Jaehyun fucked- a tale met with disbelief- was a way to piss all over your territory.

That's mine.

Of course, you could have pushed Jaehyun harder. In doing so, the husband of the pair was a viable conquest. He looked at you with his dumb look when you ran your hand up your stockinged thigh, his jaw slack as you hiked up your skirt inappropriately and unprofessionally high.

However, it wasn’t very fun for you. You could tell the husband was too in love with his wife to ever flirt with you. You gave up quickly, your annoyance waving like a red flag whenever the wife breathed in your direction.

“Are you almost done, sweetie?” you called out to Jaehyun.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Jaehyun said, sticking his head out of a doorway.

You shot a look at the wife, her full attention on Jaehyun as he walked towards you both. She might as well have started taking off her clothes where she stood. She was fanning herself with her hand and wiping sweat from between her cleavage, the telling signs of someone who really wanted to know Jaehyun's cock felt like.

“Your husband is insisting on checking every nook and cranny of this place.” Jaehyun said, a brilliant smile stretched across his face. “I keep telling him there is no need. You won't find a place like this in the city.”

“I’m sorry for his behavior.” the wife said. “He does this all of the time. Nothing is ever good enough for him.”

“I can’t blame him.” Jaehyun said, his eyes roaming down the legs of the wife. “We men love being thorough.”

You slapped a hand against Jaehyun’s chest and tugged on his tie, hoping it would tighten against his throat. “We should get going soon, don’t you think, Jaehyun?”

“Oh, I think we can spare a few minutes, baby.”

The wife was completely ignoring the fact that you were in the room. She took a step towards Jaehyun, batting her eyelashes and pushing out her sweaty breasts. Jaehyun ate up the attention, his eyes practically fucking her right in front of you.

“You are absolutely shameless.” you said, walking away.

You walked through the fully furnished and staged home, finding the husband in the downstairs bathroom (one of three in the house). He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t really your type. Still, he gave you the attention that made it easy for you to ignore all of that. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

“Like what you see?” you asked, moving one leg out in front of you so that your skirt rode up. “With the house, I mean.”

“Yeah.” he said. “Might be out of our price range. I'll have to check.”

You walked further into the bathroom, your heels click-clacking on the tile. It took only a few seconds for Jaehyun to find you, like it was a mating call, appearing in the bathroom doorway looking relaxed and ready to fuck. You knew the wife was soon to follow, a look of disappointment on her face that Jaehyun didn’t stick around to flirt with her.

You often wondered what women were thinking when caught with alone time involving Jaehyun. Were they imagining him bending them over the kitchen sink and fucking them? Did they think they were special, that he would sneak away from his dull job for an illicit affair with them? You could be sure that they were mentally undressing him, that they were not at all in tune to the fact that Jaehyun, in the end, only had eyes for you.

“If my girl here hasn’t sold you on the house, we would be delighted to show you to others on another date and time.” Jaehyun suggested.

Jaehyun’s words were final. He wanted them to leave immediately, to take their shit and go. You could hear the sour puss in his voice, the slight quiver in sound. He threw his arm around the wife and brought her closer to him. He let a smile consume him, one that made you grit your teeth. The four of you walked out of the bathroom quarters together, back to the open plan living room to discuss things further.

“You smell wonderful.” Jaehyun murmured to the wife of the pair. He let her go. “Anyway, the price isn't negotiable, but we’ll see what we can do if it’s what you really want. You may have to extend your budget further. If not, there are always others, like I said.”

The wife and husband agreed that the house would never be in their budget before leaving. The husband checked out your tits, and the wife cast one last longing look at Jaehyun over her shoulder, her pink tongue sensually gliding along her lower lip. With a serene smile, Jaehyun shut the door behind them, shutting the world out from you and him.

“You could have charmed the panties off of her.” you said, crossing your arms against your chest.” Pretty sure she would have blown you in front of the fridge if you had stood in the kitchen any longer.”

“Is that why you walked away?” Jaehyun said. “Scared of the competition?”

“Please.” you said. “I just really wanted to get fingerbanged by the husband over the toilet.”

“I can make that a reality.” Jaehyun smirked.

You walked into the kitchen and sat on a stool, smiling to yourself when Jaehyun followed you like a dog. “It’s not fair what you do to them.”

Jaehyun held on to either side of the stool and kept his face inches from yours. “You’re just angry because I win every time.”

“The husband always loves his wife too much.”

“And the wife is always ready to get fucked raw.” Jaehyun said. "By yours truly, of course."

“Maybe I should just start fucking the wife.” you said, peeling Jaehyun’s fingers from the stool.

“I would very much like that.”

“I know you would.” you said, pushing him away.

Jaehyun was pushed back feet from you. He yanked at his tie until it was loosely hanging around his neck. He ran a hand through his sandy brown hair, the ends sticking straight up in some places. You watched him, knowing it was what he wanted. You could see his chest hair peeking out from between the now unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt. The heat began to cover your body like a warm blanket of sin, as you thought about tangling your tongue up in those hairs.

“I can feel you on my skin, even though you haven’t touched me yet.” he whispered.

Jaehyun rolled his neck around, cracking it in some places. When his eyes met yours, the shade of brown appeared somewhat darker. You could feel that look rolling all the way down your stomach until it settled in its depths, curling up in itself. Your nerves felt shot, your confidence gone.

“Doesn’t it just feel so good to give in to me?” Jaehyun asked, his voice a little rough. “Don’t you want to play with me in this big, bad house?”

He came to you, only stopping by the length of your knees. He tucked his fingers underneath your chin and brought your eyesight up to his. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. He let his palm run smoothly down your throat, giving it a little squeeze. Your body was unmoving underneath his touch. Sometimes, you would absolutely vibrate with pleasure when Jaehyun touched you. Other times, you would become still like a steel fortress in the wind, wanting him to work a little for your affection, to open up your doors to him like an open house.

The house was empty, but so full at the same time. Jaehyun got down on his knees in a moment of submission, his head down like he was praying. He hugged you, his arms resting on your thighs, his whole being in your lap. It lasted less than a minute until he was back on his feet, a rare sweetness in his eyes as the rest of his body became unfamiliar and rigid.

“Stand up.” he said, his voice cold, the sound of it rattling through the bones of the house. Though there was a faint grin on his lips and a playful eyebrow raised, Jaehyun wasn’t allowing himself to be played with anymore.

You were not quick enough. He took you by the sides of your shoulders and pulled you from the stool. Your knees buckled but Jaehyun caught you in time, the move making your nipples harden. He could see the reaction through your work shirt, your two little buds staring him in the face. All you wanted was for him to touch you, but he wouldn't.

It was fun playing the game with him, since you two were so alike. There were times when you dominated Jaehyun, making him eat you out and cum before the new couples would arrive at the house. If he failed, he would be punished and have to do something embarrassing for him. If he passed, you would both be in a great mood and would usually get a house sold. Then, like now, there were times when Jaehyun took control, which would usually be followed by a lack of sales disappointment. You could always feel those times coming, the excitement unable to be contained.

Jaehyun took your hand and whisked you off through parts of the house where he knew prying eyes wouldn’t find you. He ran up the stairs eagerly, tugging you along behind him, not bothering to see if you were tripping up.

“The master suite.” Jaehyun said, stopping in front of a door. “Wait here.”

He left you standing in front of the closed door for over five minutes. You kept checking the time on your phone, your eyes roaming up and down every detail of the white, wooden door. If he was trying to tantalize you, it was working. You were very impatient, trying your best not to bust through the door and hop right on his dick.

“Come in.” Jaehyun said.

You held onto the handle, the image of the husband jiggling that very handle less than an hour ago fresh on your mind.

“I won’t tell you twice.” Jaehyun said.

You opened the door and saw Jaehyun sitting on the edge of a model bed. He had stripped it of the crisp sheets and fluffy pillows that were adorning it. He was shirtless and his dress pants were unbuttoned, his brown leather belt hanging by his sides.You drank him in like that, the impatience waning away.

“Come closer.” he said.

“So bossy.” you smiled.

You walked closer. Since you knew that you affected him as much as he affected you, every step felt delicious. You stood in front of him, ready to rip your business skirt off if he just said the magic words.

“Good girl.” he said, standing up.

He was looming over you, the heat from his body making you hot. You wanted to press your hands to his sweaty chest and push him down onto the bed. You wanted to bite his shoulder so hard that it made him cry out. You wanted to sit on that strong jaw, rocking your body over him until he was suffocating.

“Look me in the eyes,” he said. “Don’t look at my body, like I’m a piece of meat.”

“A little bit of disobedience never hurt anyone.” you said, meeting his eyes.

It was difficult to keep your eyes trained on his when you could hear him unzipping his pants. Each click of the teeth made your clit throb, like his tongue was already gliding over it. You could hear his pants falling down to his ankles, and from the corner of your eye, could see him shift slightly to step out of them until he was naked. With your imagination, you thought of him stroking his cock, pumping his fist up and down his shaft.

“Are you with me?” Jaehyun breathed. “Be with me right now.”

You nodded as the sounds of him masturbating heightened. Jaehyun moaned and let his eyes disconnect from yours. Though he was looking down at his cock, you were looking at the top of his pretty head. There were thousands of hairs you could tug and pull to get him to comply, to have him give you his cock. You could feel the tip of him and his fist rubbing against you as he made it upwards, each stroke nearly punching you, because he was so close.

You looked down, the top of your head skimming his. He was going at it slowly, moving his body like he was fucking his own fist. It was so sexy that you could feel all the nerves in your body tingling. Though his pleasure didn't happen to you, you could feel every grain of it. You breathed heavily with him, your body going through the build up with Jaehyun.

Your eyes met him again. Yours were, no doubt, asking him why he was being so cruel. It took a minute for him to stop, for Jaehyun to set his mouth in a grim line, and to cock his head and look lost in thought.

“This isn’t about you.” he said. “This isn’t about your pleasure. On your knees and put my cock in your mouth. Don’t stop sucking until I say.”

As you got slowly to your knees, your lips slid down his stomach, your kisses rushed before he could decline them. You grabbed hold of his cock, the tip of him resting on your bottom lip before you looked up at him. He held your side of the neck before moving to the back of your head and forcing his cock down your throat until your eyes watered.

Fucking in a place that didn’t belong to you was thrilling. The owners could come back any second and catch you in the act. There could be cameras installed, or nosy neighbors coming to check up on the people who owned the lone car that sat in the driveway.

“Is it good?” Jaehyun asked, his voice velvety smooth. "How do I taste?"

You sucked his cock without stopping, testing him with both lips, tongue, and fingers. You brought him back so far into your throat that you choked and took him out with a string of saliva. You swallowed that, too, so grateful to have him in any of your holes.

Jaehyun pulled his cock out and teased himself back inside of your mouth slowly. You let your jaw hang open and laid your tongue flat while he fucked your face. You gripped his thighs and let your fingernails dig into him before he came on your tongue, grabbing a handful of your hair at release.

When he ordered you to stand up, he was still leaking. He wasn’t stopping for anyone, not even when you made a show of wiping his cum off of your chin with your finger and slipping it into your mouth.

"It tastes yummy." you said.

“Clothes off,” Jaehyun said, ignoring you. “Kneel on the bed.”

He wasn’t losing his erection. He treated his cock like it was delicate, holding it in his hands and stroking it gently. You watched him as you stripped, taking a little too long with the stockings. Jaehyun ended up ripping them from your legs and tossing them aside. Without saying another word, he grabbed your ankles and pulled you down to the edge of the bed, nearly making you faceplant on the mattress.

“Fuck.” you whispered, your body jerking in surprise as Jaehyun started eating you out from behind.

He wasn’t shy about it either. He was licking you, moving his head side to side and up and down, just to get every bit of you. His lips were so warm and you were so wet, that you had to sink your upper half onto the bed and place your forehead against your arm. Jaehyun squeezed your ass cheeks and pushed you forward, his tongue lapping up all of your wetness.

You didn’t want to break, to crumble. You wanted to be strong and not moan or give in completely. You didn’t want to let him know that he could bring you down with just a lick, but it was hard not to.

“Beg me.” Jaehyun said, coming up for air.

He smacked your ass and you turned around until you were on your back. It was rough and forceful, and it turned you on. Jaehyun kissed your ankle before moving his lips down your thigh.

“Beg me.” he repeated. “Fucking do it now.”

The hotness on your inner thigh as his mouth got higher was enough to make you call his name. “Please, Jaehyun.” you said. “Don’t stop.”

Jaehyun ate you out, slipping his fingers inside of you. He would occasionally stop and kiss his way up your body to leave hickeys on your neck, and catch glimpses of your face to see if you were enjoying it.

“Not about my pleasure, huh?” you asked, nearly laughing.

Jaehyun groaned. “Don’t ruin it.”

“Too late.” you said, moaning as he fingered you. “You smell like her.”

You kissed his neck and got the bite you wanted from his shoulder. You held him against you, making sure your scent was all over him. His mouth tasted like you, though. You kept kissing him and grabbing at his hands to make sure they didn’t stop fucking you. You were a tangle of bare limbs, holding him against you, and fighting for dominance.

Jaehyun lifted his fingers from your pussy and held himself up over you. He looked you in your eyes, his gaze falling to your lips before he kissed them. He moved his body and slipped his cock inside of you, knocking the air from your mouth.

Missionary position was not your favorite. It was too romantic, not as wild. You wanted him to break your back, to bend you into positions that made your legs wobble the next day. You wanted risk. You wanted it rough. But having Jaehyun’s weight on top of you in that way felt different. You let him move over you, holding your hips as he drilled himself inside of you.

It didn’t last long until you were wanting to flip him over, until you could be on top and ride him. Jaehyun smirked when he realized what you were doing and said, “I don’t think so.”

He leaned up until his sweaty body wasn’t clinging to yours anymore. He spread your thighs apart after pulling you closer to him. He let you get a good view of his cock disappearing inside of you.

“This pussy is mine.” he said, touching his fingers to your clit. “Say it’s mine.”

“It’s mine.” you said.

Jaehyun fucked you faster, his cock hitting your cervix a little rougher. You winced at the discomfort you quite liked, immediately wanting him to keep fucking you deeper.

“Say it.” he said, moaning with each thrust.

“Or what?” you challenged, breathlessly trying to hold yourself together.

Jaehyun gripped your wrists and brought them above your head. He got close to you again, his body smothering yours, and his cock fucking you in a way that was too good to stop.

“I’m yours.” you said. “It’s yours. All of it is yours.”

He smiled when he got what he wanted, the same charming smile that seemed to have most women on tenterhooks, wondering if they would give them something else of his. Jaehyun never would, though, because everything of his was also yours.

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

A day at the farm

summary: Harry and Y/n live in a cozy cottage with their two children and take care of a big garden along with some animals. :) cottagecore!harry

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, possible swearing. 

“Want to work in the garden today, my love?” Harry asks, giving his little girl a butterfly kiss, squatting down in front of her and holding onto her waist. “You can sneak strawberries and feed the cows” Harry coos, petting her hair, the girl only wearing a diaper and some patchwork overalls. 

Harry and his wife, Y/n, had moved out to this beautiful cottage after having their first born. They wanted their dream life together, farm animals, a garden for the kiddies to run in, and a flower patch to tend to. 

They live in a big ol’ cottage with flowers planted all along the rock pathway up to their home. Roses, baby breath, and dandelions dancing in flower beds and raised in big bushes by their gate. In the backyard they have a patio area with some chairs for the family to lay out in and sunbathe. A huge seven acre yard for their little ones to toddle around in, a play set and tree house built just for them that their daddy built when their first baby was only three months. They have many farm animals, a pond off to the side for some ducks, some small brown and black&white cows, some oinking piglets along with their big momma pig, a couple goats, some chickens that grace them with their yummy eggs, and lastly their little kitties, but they mainly stay in the cottage. 

“Don’t have to, just got to take good care of everything, hm’?” He asks, violet, pulling her up on his hip and kissing her cheek. She loops her arms around her daddy’s neck, resting her head on his shoulder ever so softly. Harry smiles, petting through the girls honey colored curls. “I take that as a yes, sweet pea?” He softly chuckles, the little girl nodding. 

He smiles, opening the back door to the cottage, the matcha green door letting out a squeak, Harry noting that he needs to oil the old chipped door. Harry grabs the big pile of tin silver buckets, thumping over to the leaky spigot and filling one of the beat up buckets a quarter of the way full with water. “Go on over to the fruits, sugar plum” Harry says, setting down his toddler and letting her slap her chubby bare toes down into the grassy ground, making her way over to their large garden like a baby deer. Harry grabs the buckets, singing an old Fleet wood Mac tune while he walks over to the blooming fruits and veggies. 

He smiles at his little one, seeing violet set in one of the rows of fruits, already collecting a bushel of dark colored berries in the pocket of her overalls. “Here,” Harry whispers, plucking one of her berry's and cleaning it in the bucket, washing it free of dirt. He holds it up to her pink lips, the little girl eating the dark berry out of her daddy’s hands. “Yummy!” She smiles, Harry’s dimples carving out softly, making a dip in his round cheeks. 

“Yeah?” He asks, the almost two year old nodding. He smiles, setting a bucket next to her, “put the berries in there, sweet pea” Harry simpers, licking his lips before eating a berry of his own. 

Y/n pads out of the cottage, holding their baby boy to her chest, dressed in a light yellow sun dress with lilac and violets sprinkled all over it. One of her thick straps is slipped down, their baby boy, Forest, nursing from her breasts. She has tortoise shell colored glasses perched on her nose, a circle lens(that are actually Harry’s). A long hair clip to finish the look, light green and gold rimmed. “Hello, my lovely’s ” Harry hums, Y/n smiling up at him, folding her book closed that was sat in her free hand, a copy of one of Harry’s favorites- Yesterday I was the Moon. “Hello,” she hums, a smile on her lips. 

“How’s my boy?” Harry asks, Y/n bending down next to the rest of her family. “He’s doing well, I gave him a bath and used my breast milk soap, it cleared his eczema rash right up.” She says, stealing a strawberry from the bucket her husband was working on, rinsing it off and pushing it between her heart shaped lips, the juice running down her chin making her husband quickly swipe his fingers past her dimpled chin. 

“Good, I knew that was bothering my boy” he says, softly petting his head, making sure not to pass over the soft spot on his head. “Yeah,” she coos, pushing her glasses up a bit. 

Y/n stands back up, setting her boy in the travel bassinet they have set out next to some of the chairs and letting him nap, slipping her strap back up to cover herself. She walks back inside the cottage, grabbing a few buckets and walking down to the cows, petting them before feeding them a piece of honeydew melon. “Hello” she hums, scratching the top of the small calf’s head. She continues to feed the cows, finishing feeding them and moving on to feeding the goats. 

Violet toddles over to her mumma, fisting her dress making Y/n look down. Y/n smiles happily at her little girl, pulling her up. “Hello, my darling. How have you been today?” She asks, puckering her lips, her daughter giving her a peck. “Good!” She cheers, Y/n smiling and feeding the goats an apple. 

“Good! Do you like your overalls?” She asks, fixing the strap. She had hand stitched the overalls for her last weekend over a cup of honey lemon tea, she had poked herself several times but she enjoyed making the cute pair of overalls for her daughter, she always enjoys making something for her little ones. It’s rewarding to see them wearing it, especially when they want to wear it until they grow out of it. “Yes!” She cheers, Y/n smiling. “Good,” 

**

“Here’s your tea,” Harry says, handing Y/n her tea while their newborn boy sleeps on his tummy on her calf, their toddler running around naked in the yard trying to play in the sprinklers that is watering their grass, many bright yellow sprinklers set up to water their gardens and all the flowers they have. “Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing the vintage teacup and saucer from his hands. He nods, walking over to his daughter, “let’s go get you in a bath, can’t stay out forever, sweet pea, you will get sick.” Harry explains, pulling his toddler up and walking to the creaky cottage door to talk his toddler up to the bath and giving her a good scrubbin’ after a long day of working in the garden and tending to the animals needs. 

He quickly gives his toddler a bath, using the handmade breast milk soap Y/n had made for the baby’s, (even though Harry uses it sometimes- he reads lots about how it’s good for your skin) she’s a crafty kinda gal. Then tending back downstairs, working on the butternut squash soup that they had made from fresh ingredients straight from their garden. 

“Yummy!” Violet says, shoving spoonfuls of the rich and creamy soup into her mouth, orange colored liquid covering her chin. Y/n giggles, sitting at the wooden table, lazily playing footsies under the table with her husband. “Gonna have to put a bib back on you” Y/n hums, making the girl pout, drinking out of her little sippy cup that’s actually just a small mason jar with a sippy cup lid attached to the top of it. 

“Eat up and then it’s time for night night, little one” Harry says, their little boy already upstairs asleep on his bassinet that is next to Y/n and Harry’s shared bed. A baby monitor clipped to Harry's shirt so he can hear if anything is disturbing his precious creature of a newborn boy. 

The girl whines, making Harry kiss her forehead, grabbing her bowl and taking it to the old green rustic sink, rinsing it out before making a mental note to wash them before he goes to bed tonight. “C’mon, m’ little monsta’ let’s get you into bed!” He coos, pulling his toddler into his arms and letting her mumma say a goodnight, kissing her cheeks and giving her a big hug before she goes off to bed. 

“And this little piggy went ‘wee wee wee!’ All the way home!” Harry says, pinching violets toes- or as he likes to call them “toesies”. “Goodnight, my baby, I’ll see you in the morning.” He says, giving her a kiss on the forehead before tucking her in, violet waving goodnight with her chubby hand. 

Harry thumps his way downstairs, seeing his wife drying the clean dishes and pulling out two glasses and pouring some wine(that they had made themselves). “Let’s have a walk in the garden” Y/n hums lowly, handing him his mason jar of wine, he smiles, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, “let’s” he says, swinging an arm around her shoulder, opening the creaky door that he still didn’t oil, walking out to the garden. 

They breathe in the night air, smiling at the crisp smell. “Your flowers are blooming beautifully” Harry says, making Y/n smile, leaning her head on her husband's shoulder. “They are,” she says, her feet getting wet from the damp grass. They continue to sip their wine, looking over all their plants and animals, making sure the day has stirred down well. 

“Guess it’s time to go in?” Y/n asks, grabbing a bucket and stacking it with the others. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a book to finish” Harry says, his wife nodding along with every word- but not paying much mind. “I’ve got a book to finish too” Y/n says, making Harry laugh. Y/n is a writer- she’s always loved writing. So she’s very thankful that she was able to get this job- especially since she still gets to live her… isolated life and be home with her family for the most part and not have to work an office job like most. A regular nine to five is just not her deal. 

“Well, I’ll start a fire and we can get down to work” Harry sighs, setting his glass down on the kitchen counter after coming inside, pouting more for his wife. He grabs his book, starting a fire with some old newspaper, matches and a log he got from the knickknack shop just a few miles up the road. 

Harry yawns, holding his book over his face, squinting his eyes even though he has his glasses on. Y/n has been telling him to go to the eye doctor so he can get his perscription changed but he never listens. She leans on him, typing on her laptop, her eyes falling closed while she tries to finish her chapter. “I need to send this to my editor in the morning” Y/n sighs, pulling the hair clip out of her hair and letting it fall down her back. 

Harry hums at her words, hooking his arm around her thigh and letting his hand rest between her inner thigh. Y/n raises an eyebrow, continuing to type the words that rush through her brain. “Whatcha writing, lovie?” Harry asks, Y/n slapping on the keys of her laptop. “Finishing my chapter” she says, Harry’s hand rubbing the inside of her thigh. “M’” he hums, sighing. 

Harry closes his book, placing it next behind him and kissing up her arm, placing wet pecks over her shoulder. “I’m writing, H” Y/n says, crossing her ankles. Harry shrugs, “M’ not doing anything” Harry says, kissing up her neck. Y/n rolls her eyes, continuing to type. She opens another tab, starting an email, and scheduling it for tomorrow morning. 

Harry smiles seeing her close her laptop, kissing her neck. He pulls her into him, making her giggle. Harry pushes her down onto the fur rug in front of the stone fireplace, making a home from himself between her legs. He smiles, finally kissing her lips and pushing her sun dress up her legs. Y/n resting her hands on her husband's shoulders after  grabbing his glasses to pull them off and reaching over, setting them down on the coffee table sat before them.

Y/n unbuttons his mustard colored corduroy flare pants that she had stitched flowers on the bottom of just for him, a little garden dressing his flares. Harry pushes his pants down the rest of the way while he presses small pecks to her neck, his nose rubbing up and down her jaw 

Y/n resting her hands on one of his cheeks, pulling his hot mouth into hers, smearing their needy lips together. Harry's hands blindly shuffle under her disheveled dress, pushing his fingers under the lace trimming of her panties, sliding them down her thick creamy thighs. Y/n’s breath stutters feeling the cool air against her core, Harry’s own bulge too close to her to be covered. 

Harry pulls away, leaving Y/n’s mouth wet and needy for her husband's lips. He pulls at his silk boxers, the boxers feeling like they could rip at the seams from how plump he has grown. Y/n whimpers seeing her husband's length after what had felt like hours of being hungry, needy for the slight- the feeling of him. Harry places heated kisses on Y/n’s neck, “Are you ready, honeysuckle?” Harry asks, tucking a hair behind her ear. She nods, her chest rising and sinking as she breathes heavy. Harry nods, softly smiling down at her lovingly while he lines himself up with her begging hole, slowly sinking in. The couple lets out satisfied sighs, Harry’s head tips  back with a large blissful smile on his lips. 

He bottoms out, Y/n now tangling their hands together. The heat of the fireplace burns them, feeling the same heat in the bottom of their tummies, hungry and desperate for each other. As much as they hate the burning feeling it makes the scene that much more romantic.“I love you,” Harry says, holding strong eye contact with her while he pushes through her silky pink walls. Y/n smiles up at him, holding the same eye contact as he does. “I love you too,” she pants, her legs looping around him. 

The only thing that is heard in the room is the crackle of the fire and the huffs coming out of their mouths, keeping their sounds of pleasure quiet so they don’t wake up their babies. 

Y/n squeezes his hand, squirming on the fur rug under her while she tries to get more, a chorus of “Harry, Harry, Harry,” pounding through her head, leaving her head in shambles. Harry kisses her, swallowing every whine and whimper that bubbles out from her throat, tasting each and every one on his own tongue while he silences himself- spewing his moans into her mouth. 

They beg for their releases, hips smashing together while the crackle of the fire becomes a background noise while their love making and panting outweighs the loud pops. The burning in their belly only grows, chasing their highs as Harry snaps his hips into her, needy like two teenagers. “Please,” Y/n begs, desperately wanting to reach that euphoric feeling and cum over her husband's cock. 

“I know, I know,” Harry quietly whimpers, nodding his head as if she has said more words then she did- but she didn’t need to say much for him to know. She clenched around him, getting that familiar feeling before she loses it. Harry continues with his nodding, the same feeling making his whole body tingle. 

Y/n finally let’s go, her body unwinding as she reaches her high, her eyes closing and mouth dropping open. Her lover follows soon behind, chasing a few more thrusts before he releases into her, his sticky hot cum coating her plushy pink walls. 

They both rest for a beat, not words shared between the two, only soft pants as they regulate their breathing. Harry slowly pulls out, Y/n wincing as the sudden movement. “Sorry,” Harry softly coos, pulling her dress back down to cover her. She nods, waving him off and resting her eyes. 

“Could just sleep here,” Harry offers jokingly, his wife rolling her eyes and shaking her head while she continues to rest her heavy limbs, completely relaxing onto the floor while Harry knees the floor above her. She ignores him for a while longer, basking in the warmth and comfort of the fire, tired and ready to sleep the long day off.

“Carry me up.” 

Hiiiii!!!! Sorry if this was bad! Its my first time posting any of my writing so I hope whoever happens to read it enjoys it! I write a lot and wanted to share it with everyone. Enjoy! Let me know what you thinks and how I could make it better if you would like. Thank you! OH! And I might make this into a little mini series if anyone likes it! Thanks again! <3<3<3

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 2: No Vacancy

Title: Backroad Romance

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,119

Tags: First Kiss, Dean Winchester and Castiel are Alone in the Dark, Mild Angst With a Happy Ending, Sam Ships It, Making out in the Impala

On AO3 Here

“You’re shittin’ me, Sammy.” Dean groans and smacks the steering wheel with his palm. “There’s no room in the whole place?”

Sam’s voice floats into the Impala, high and tinny over the burner phone’s speakers. “No vacancy, Dean, I’m sorry, I checked with them three times--”

“--Nah, nah, it’s cool, we believe you,” Dean interrupts, cradling the phone between shoulder and ear so he can rub his face while steering around a bend. Cas reaches over and deftly slips the phone away, fingers pinched like he’s removing a block from a Jenga tower.

“Did you and Eileen find accommodations?” Cas asks, holding the phone out in front of him so Dean can listen in.

There’s a short pause, then: “Yeah… yeah, we did, but guys, the room is really small, like, a closet, I swear, and there’s only one bed, and--”

This time it’s Cas who interrupts. “--and you wish to engage in private romantic activities. Dean and I completely understand.”

They’re on a straight stretch of highway, but Dean still manages to swerve clumsily into the shoulder. He hastily course-corrects and bites down the urge to snap at Cas for-- for what? For talking like that? For using his deep, rough voice to say any words even vaguely related to--

No. It’s not Cas’ fault that everything he does steadily turns Dean into more and more of a creep. Dean shakes his head firmly and tunes back in to the conversation just in time to catch Sam awkwardly stumbling over his reply. Dean leans over, cutting him off with a whistle into the phone.

“We’ll be fine, little brother. Be a gentleman. Don’t hog the sheets. Girl like Eileen doesn’t come around every day.”

He can feel the bitchface radiating through the speaker and motions at Cas to hang up. Cas frowns and gravely says “Dean would like to end the conversation. Goodbye, Sam,” before flipping the phone shut. He drops it into the cupholder.

Dean makes a show of focusing on the road to avoid looking at Cas. He knows Cas is staring at him; it’s just something the guy does, sitting in the passenger seat and gazing at Dean as if the whole world isn’t flashing by outside.

Dean’s long stopped commenting on it. Let the dude stare.

He clears his throat. “We’ll probably have to find a logging road or something. Pull in and hole up for the night.”

“All right,” Cas replies. He opens the glovebox and pulls out the local map they picked up this afternoon when they rolled into Matlock, Washington, to investigate a haunted post office. It was a gray, dinky, bleak town and the poor ghost lurking around the mailroom seemed more melancholy than anything. She allowed them to dispatch her into the afterlife with very little struggle; that is, after some creative sweet-talking by Sam.

Eileen had teased Sam mercilessly about it before Dean had even gotten a chance. That’s how Dean knows she’s The One.

There was, of course, no motel in town. Sam and Eileen hit the road before Dean and Cas, because Dean insisted on getting a burger for dinner at the tiny diner on Main Street (a mistake). Now he’s staring down the barrel of a night alone with Cas, in cramped quarters, on a dark backroad. If they hadn’t already driven all day to get to Matlock, Dean would push on until they found a motel with vacancies, but he’s exhausted and Cas is just human enough these days to actually be tired too.

“There’s an access road nearby,” Cas says, tracing the map with his index finger. “In a quarter mile. Left.”

Dean follows his directions and sure enough, there’s a bumpy logging road branching off from the highway, stretching deep into the pitch-black trees. Dean pulls in about five hundred feet before turning off the lights and the ignition.

It’s silent. The darkness is all-encompassing, pressing in on Dean, so heavy it’s like he can feel it on his eyelids when he blinks. He takes a slightly shaky breath. Cas is utterly still, as usual, not a single rustle or exhale indicating his presence in the gloom, but Dean feels him there as intensely as he’d feel a roaring bonfire. His heart thuds in his ears.

Why is he freaking out? He’s slept in the car with Sam a million times. But even as he thinks that, he knows, he knows, that this is different. His brain starts whirling through logistics -- who’s gonna take the back seat? Is Cas even gonna sleep the whole night? Or will he wake up and just sit there, staring at Dean for hours, inches away?

Dean needs to shut off his brain. He taps the seat and says “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean,” comes the immediate response, measured and reassuring. “Would you like to talk?”

Relaxing against the seat and slinging an arm over the backrest, Dean peers over to the passenger side. “Sure.”

The moon’s out tonight, far above the trees, and the grayscale of nighttime slowly bleeds into view as Dean’s eyes adjust. He can just make out the sharp angle of Cas’ nose, the slope of his chest and the outline of his hands folded in his lap. He’s always so upright, so proper. Dean wonders what it would feel like to undo him.

“Are Sam and Eileen having sex?”

Dean chokes on air. Sputtering, he braces himself on the seat and coughs until his eyes stop watering. “What?” he wheezes. “Why-- Dude, why would you ask that?”

He sees Cas turn his head to regard him. Even in the dark, Dean can imagine the piercing gaze.

“It was unclear to me what you meant by ‘be a gentleman.’” Cas lifts his hands to shape the finger quotes. “I assumed the two of them would take advantage of their privacy to engage in physical intimacy. Was your comment meant to discourage Sam from having sex?”

Dean throws up his hands desperately. “Okay-- okay, first of all, quit talking about my brother doing it. And second, no, I wasn’t ‘discouraging’ him, just reminding him to treat Eileen like a lady. You know, romance her a little.”

The darkness is a godsend as Dean’s cheeks flush hotter with every word. He’s surprised they’re not glowing. He taps the seat in a random pattern as Cas sits quietly, seemingly digesting the information.

When he responds, it’s slow and thoughtful. “In the pornography I’ve watched, the participants always begin undressing one another rather quickly. And in my own experiences, there has been very little that I would label ‘romantic.’ What is classified as ‘romance,’ Dean?”

Well, shit. The last of Dean’s composure evaporates, sizzles away like a drop of water meeting his burning face. He drops his head into his hands and groans.

Cas leans forward, his knee brushing Dean’s. “Have I made you uncomfortable?” he asks, voice laden with concern.

Dean’s throat is tight, his fingers sweaty against his forehead. He forces himself to take a deep breath and to at least open his eyes against the shadow of his palms. “Uh-- no. No, Cas. You, uh-- you should be able to ask that kinda stuff. Human stuff. I get that it’s, uh-- it’s important to know. For, y’know. So you can--”

There’s a hand on his knee. A warm, strong hand. Long fingers. Weighty. Dean’s heart kicks into overdrive. He slowly, very slowly, lowers his hands to peek at Cas.

“How do you like to be romanced, Dean?”

There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing in Dean’s brain. It’s a chamber of silence. A void. He stares at the outline of Cas’ wild hair, mouth slightly open.

“...Dean?” The hand on his knee shifts slightly and Dean’s blank brain runs zero interference as his own hand darts out and stills the one threatening to leave his leg. As soon as his skin makes contact with Cas’, though, everything zings back online in a rushing roar.

Play it off, Winchester. Crack a joke. C’mon. “Hah, funny, buddy, you really got me there--”

“--Kissing’s nice.”

He snaps his mouth shut too late. The words float away, unrecoverable.

Cas tilts his head. Then, slowly, very slowly, as if he’s afraid of spooking Dean, he turns his hand around under Dean’s so that they’re palm to palm. An invitation.

With a pounding heart, Dean accepts it. He laces their fingers together. His palm feels even sweatier when it’s rubbing up against Cas’ dry, smooth skin.

Sexy, Dean. Way to go.

Somehow, even though it was Cas asking the questions, he’s the one leading now, shifting closer, laying his left arm along the backrest behind Dean’s shoulders. Their faces are so close that they’re sharing air, just two shadows suspended in a frozen moment.

“May I kiss you?” Cas murmurs gently, his breath washing over Dean’s lips. It smells like rain-refreshed air, like a promise of sunshine, alleviating the weight of the darkness. Dean tentatively chases it with his tongue, wetting his lips and leaving them parted.

“Yeah,” he whispers back. Because fuck, he wants this. He’s wanted this for so long.

And Cas wants it, too.

Dean always imagined that his first kiss with Cas would be an inferno, fireworks, showering sparks, all those cliches. That it would yank him from his body and send him floating through the ether.

It’s not like any of that. It’s better. It’s real.

Cas’ lips are just lips -- a little more chapped than Dean’s used to, perhaps, but they meet his in a familiar brush, followed by the typical tentative press, leading into a hesitant swipe of the tongue.

He’s kissing Cas. Cas, who he’s built up in his head for so long as this untouchable, impossible ideal, who stormed Hell to drag him out, who smote demons with his bare hands, who is so inconceivably old that Dean should be just a speck of sand under his eternal gaze.

Instead, that same Cas is busy dragging his fingers down the side of Dean’s neck. A crest of goosebumps follow, shivers trailing down Dean’s torso, and he gasps a quivery breath against Cas’ lips. He’s not used to being led. Normally he’s the one in charge, giving as good as he gets, focused on hitting the highlights, satisfying his partner. There’s a whole formula.

He’s never trembled like this before.

“Dean,” Cas whispers against his mouth, reverent, his voice somehow gravelly even as a breath. He suddenly pulls his hand free from Dean’s and grips his bicep, dropping his other arm from the backrest to wrap around Dean’s waist. Without preamble, he twists, tugging Dean across his lap. Dean yelps and hurriedly adjusts his legs, ending up with his knees on the seat, straddling Cas’ thighs. His fingers and toes are zinging in excitement.

Goddamn. Who knew being manhandled would do it for him?

The crown of his head presses against the roof of the car and he slouches forward until their foreheads are touching. He pushes his hands into Cas’ hair.

Cas surges forward again, nudging Dean’s head to the side and pressing his lips to Dean’s neck. Dean groans, low and shaky, as Cas parts his lips and sucks a trail up to Dean’s earlobe, his tongue soothing in the wake of his mouth, dragging over every mark that he coaxes to the surface. Dean knows his neck will be littered with bruises tomorrow, but he finds he can’t bring himself to care, not when Cas’ teeth are busy grazing the shell of his ear.

“Jeez, Cas,” he breathes, dropping his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. He's hard already, hips twitching a little, but he keeps his hands firmly in Cas’ hair, tugging the soft, thick strands, guiding Cas’ mouth back down to his neck. His pulse hammers under each press of chapped lips.

He pulls back and captures Cas’ mouth again, sliding his tongue into that wet heat. They trade open-mouthed kisses, a bit sloppy, while Cas’ hands glide up Dean’s back under his flannel. Dean’s absolutely flying, his pounding heart easily winning the battle against the tiny voice in his head dredging up reasons to stop, reasons to run.

He wants to stay .

Their kisses have escalated to a panting, frenzied give-and-take, and Dean’s tired of hunching over. He drops his hands onto Cas’ shoulders and starts leaning back over to the driver’s seat, trying to pull Cas on top of him. Cas whines when their lips separate, but he catches on quickly. A little too quickly. He grips Dean’s waist and shifts him along the bench seat with such force that Dean’s arm goes flying and his elbow smacks right into the middle of the steering wheel.

The horn blares, rending the night.

Both Dean and Cas jerk upright, instantly on high alert. Reality takes a moment to catch up with them.

Cas recovers first. “That startled me,” he says, voice wrecked.

Dean lets out a long breath. He’s still got one leg up on the seat, the other one cramped awkwardly next to the steering wheel. He drags a hand across his face and lets out a breathy laugh. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, laughing so hard his cheeks hurt and his eyes water.

He’s just so goddamn happy.

Cas watches him, head tilted in the shadows. Dean lets his laughter run its course, petering out with a sigh of mirth and hand slapped on Cas’ knee.

“What a night, huh?” he says.

Cas lifts a hand and strokes Dean’s cheek with his knuckles. Even after all that making out, this one gesture seems inordinately intimate. But Dean just smiles.

Cas swipes his thumb over Dean’s cheekbone one more time before slowly, almost reluctantly, letting his hand fall. “You need to sleep.”

Dean nods and glances into the backseat. “You do too, don’t you? At least a bit? Maybe we can both fit back there.”

They get out of the car -- the cool night air rushes into Dean’s lungs and fizzes through his chest, bringing the events of the past half hour into blood-rich focus in his brain. He steels himself for the freakout, for the doubt and the deflection, but it doesn’t come. He feels right.

They crawl into the backseat, awkwardly shuffling and shifting, ending up with Cas sitting mostly upright (insisting that he’s fine) and Dean laid out on the seat with his head in Cas’ lap.

He drops off to sleep faster than he has a long time, Cas’ long fingers carding through his hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s the light that wakes him, pale gray seeping under his lashes and rousing him from a blissfully dreamless sleep. He lifts his head and immediately winces -- his neck is stiff as a board and his back aches all the way down to his tailbone. He’s really getting too old to be sleeping in the car.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean twists around and peers blearily up at Cas, who’s gazing down at him with one of his rare enigmatic smiles. Dean yawns and stretches as best he can, his back popping. He pushes himself up until he’s sitting next to Cas.

“Mornin’, sunshine.”

Cas leans over and, before Dean can react, presses a warm, dry kiss to Dean’s cheek.

Sore body or not, this is the best morning of Dean’s life.

They extract themselves from the backseat and stumble into the damp early-morning air. Dean pops the collar of his flannel after a single glance into the side mirror. He’s got a lot of hickies.

They take a second to stretch (Dean admires the way Cas’ pecs shift under his dress shirt as he reaches for the sky) before sliding into the front seat. Dean backs them out of the logging road, the verdant green pines on either side nearly overwhelming his night-accustomed eyes.

Cas calls Sam as they roar down the highway again. It’s only 5 a.m., but Dean handed Cas the phone and told him to give Sam a wakeup call. The kid deserves it after a good night’s sleep in a real bed.

They pull into the parking lot of the Cedar Crest Motel just past 5:30. Dean ends up having to park on the street, though, because the lot’s at capacity, not a single spot unoccupied. He pats Baby in apology as he leaves her, and he and Cas make their way to the room number that a very irritated, cranky Sam snapped at them over the phone.

They’ve almost reached it when Dean suddenly stops dead. He grabs Cas’ arm. Cas shoots him a questioning glance.

“Look." Dean points up at the motel sign. There, huge red letters, blinking through the pale morning light, spell out a clear VACANCY.

“It’s hardly been six hours," Dean says. "No one would’ve checked out in the middle of the night.”

Suspicion rising rapidly, he strides to Sam’s door and knocks as obnoxiously as he can. As soon as the door creaks open, he reaches through and grabs Sam’s shirt, yanking him outside. Sam protests and slaps at Dean with one hand, shoving his bird’s nest hair out of his face with the other.

“What the hell, Dean!”

Dean just throws one arm up at the sign, staring at Sam with raised eyebrows. As soon as Sam sees what he’s pointing at, he shrinks into what Dean immediately recognizes as guilty little brother posture. He’s not even trying to hide it.

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean and Sam, before holding out a placating hand. “I just-- I just thought, maybe you could use some time alone,” he explains hastily, backing up a bit into the room. “If we all ended up here, Dean, you’d insist that we share, you know you would.”

Dean knows Sam’s right (he’s careful with their fake money, so sue him), but he keeps glaring regardless.

“I just wanted some time with Eileen,” Sam mumbles, deflating a bit. “And I thought, y’know, with how you and Cas have been acting lately, that you’d-- uh, that you’d want some time together, too.”

Dean sputters. “Acting? We-- what--”

“Thank you, Sam,” Cas says, deep voice cutting off Dean’s protests. “We had a very pleasant night.”

Sam’s eyes widen and he straightens up, a knowing grin stretching over his face. His eyes dart to Dean’s popped collar. “Oh yeah? Did you now?”

Dean shoves him into the room and slams the door shut. There. He turns to Cas, who looks amused.

“Give me at least a couple days before blabbing to my brother,” Dean says, but he finds himself smiling. Cas nods. He reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, just for a moment, squeezing before letting it fall again.

“Of course, Dean.”

[bunnie-the-lighthouse]

𝒲𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝑒𝒹~

Pairing: ATEEZ Park Seong-Hwa, ATEEZ Choi San & Reader

Warnings: It’s Suggestive, My Friend. Be Careful. (It’s Kind of Long Too)

Inspiration: Not Gonna Lie, I Don’t Know. 

Basic Idea: You Are In A Polyamorous Relationship With San And Seong-Hwa, Your Guardian Angels. But... They Hide A Deep Secret. 

Type: Fluff & Suggestive

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On your way back home you were humming a song, enjoying the tune as it was finally Friday. You were hoping to just get home and cuddle with your favorite boys -- your guardian angels, Seong-Hwa and San.

You opened the door and saw Seong-Hwa organizing the dinner table while San was nowhere to be seen. Smiling at the sight, you once again feel comfortable and recharged after entering your house. “I’m home~” you chirped as Seong-Hwa looked up at you. “Oh! Hi baby,” he smiled as you smiled back.

“Where’s San?” you asked as Seong-Hwa brought out the last plate of steak. “He’s playing online with Yun-Ho,” the raven haired angel smiled at you, “Come on, go change to more comfortable clothes and tell Sannie that we have to eat dinner,” he ushered as you nodded and went off to the shared bedroom.

Opening the bedroom door, you saw San being focused on the game. You quickly gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, catching him off guard. “Oh, _____-ie!” he squealed while giving you a smile. “Hwa finished cooking dinner, let’s go eat, okay?” you asked as he nodded.

You then changed to more comfortable clothes, San saying goodbye to Yun-Ho as he then hugged you from behind. “How was work today?” he asked as you chuckled, “Slightly annoying, but now I feel better,” you responded. Turning around, you hugged him back, laying your head on his chest.

Eating dinner was the same as always, you guys shared how your day was and everything was rather chill. Something that did catch your attention was Seong-Hwa’s eyes. 

They would normally shift color from black to a light blue that resembled the sky. This would normally occur when he felt a strong emotion from you, and when you were recounting your story of how your boss yelled at you, you did feel quite frustrated.

However, this time… His eyes didn’t resemble the sky. They blinked a dark turquoise that you’ve never seen before. It caught you off guard, but you didn’t expect the turquoise to be enchanting -- it was mysterious, deep, and full of… Desire?... You weren’t sure yourself.

You decided to let it slide, and soon after dinner you guys huddled up on the couch to watch a movie. “Hyung, should we watch Fifty Shades of Grey?” San asked as the question caught you off guard, “What? Aren’t you guys not supposed to watch those types of things?” you asked, knowing that the movie was quite graphic from reviews -- you yourself never watched it, you just read reviews.

“I’m sure nothing bad will happen,” Seong-Hwa replied as you still felt concerned. Midway through the movie, you of course felt slightly heated -- however you were sort of worried over the toxicity of that relationship, and mainly, the fact that San and Seong-Hwa shouldn’t be watching this because they are angels… Guardian Angels, to make things worst.

As you leaned your head on San’s shoulder, you felt his hand lay on your thigh, which intrigued you. He was a bit playful, but not to this level. You felt a bit more heated, a wave of desire washing over you. And as you calmed down the strong emotion, you glanced and saw how his once emerald green eyes shone a dark forest green.

Something was definitely wrong. And you couldn’t help but feel excited.

“I see that our little baby has noticed something,” Seong-Hwa suddenly spoke, making you whip your head to look at him. “Huh?” you question as you feel fear creep into your system. Seong-Hwa’s eyes shone the same dark turquoise, and rather than returning to his black marbles…

They stayed in the unusual blue.

“Hwa?” you squeaked out as he smirks, you then felt San kiss your neck from behind, his soft hair tickling you slightly. “Sannie?” you asked but quickly got shut up by Seong-Hwa’s harsh kiss. You whimper at the force, closing your eyes.

Seong-Hwa kissed you hungrily as you couldn’t help but also feel aroused by San’s soft kitten licks on your neck. "It took you some time, _____-ie," San purred out against your neck as you were still confused over what the two angels meant.

You then opened your eyes and saw how Seong-Hwa didn't have two white feathery wings behind him. His halo was also missing… Instead, he had wings resembling those of a black dragon. That is also when you felt

Two sharp teeth graze over your sensitive neck.

"Oh babygirl.. We weren't your Guardian Angels.. In the crooked world that we live in, the only things that exist are those who are evil and those who are neutral. Creatures like us.. Incubus, if you may, were supposed to come here..”

“And ruin you,” San whispered in your ear.

“Though, we disobeyed the rules, and fell for a mortal.. We fell for you, _____,” Seong-Hwa confessed as San trailed kisses from your shoulder to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot softly as Seong-Hwa cupped your cheeks.

San pulled away from your neck, looking down at the mark that he left. Seong-Hwa then rubbed your cheek with his thumbs, "We were supposed to ruin you while you slept, darling.. But you won our dark cold hearts with your peaceful and beautiful face. I felt your sorrow from your tear stained cheeks,"

"And I felt your desperation when you hugged your plushie as if it were the only object that kept you sane."

"We felt connected to you.. And we couldn't ruin you," Seong-Hwa ends as you couldn’t help but look away, freeing yourself from the older’s grasp. You stood up and left to the bedroom, overwhelmed from their sudden reveal.

On the bed you sighed, hiding yourself under the blankets. You heard and felt someone shuffling to lay down next to you, someone else then laid on your other side. “Baby girl?” Seong-Hwa asked as you peaked your head out of the blankets, you were pouting, catching the two incubi off guard as they expected you to be mad.

“I hate you two.. For lying to me.. But I also love you two.. For being next to me and keeping me happy,” you confessed, as if opening the gates, allowing the two to enter your heart. You were about to wrap your arms around Seong-Hwa’s neck, but he stopped you by pinning both of your hands above your head.

“Then.. Should San and I.. Show you a whole new world?” he asked, smirking softly while purring out in ecstasy and love. You couldn’t help but feel enchanted by his dark turquoise pearls -- nodding at his statement.

San then chuckled and used his index finger to guide your view towards him, making you peer into his forest green marbles.While he crashed his lips onto yours, Seong-Hwa took the time to start kissing your neck, creating another mark near your sweet spot, to complement San’s mark.

You moaned in the kiss, feeling more heated as San’s hands trailed down and creeped underneath your shirt, massaging your tummy softly -- the friction making you ticklish. As you squirmed slightly, San and Seong-Hwa pulled away. San looking down and imagining your pleasured face as Seong-Hwa blew on the mark, causing you to exhale shakily.

San then laughed, a bit sinisterly, turning you on even more as he unbuttons his dress shirt with one hand, the other moving his hair back. Seong-Hwa also started unbuttoning his shirt, making you feel flustered -- watching two extremely hot incubi undress.

“Oh, by the way, baby girl.. Before we ruin you, remember that we are incubi, so we are more freaky~”

“We’ll give you an experience that you won’t be able to live if you date a human. Us incubi are especially proud of our skills,”

“We’ll make you squirm from the pleasure,”

“We’ll make you scream our name,”

“We’ll make you wish for more”

… “Are you ready?” …

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hello hello! Bunnie here~

Sorry I’ve been MIA, had to focus lots on school since it’s the last quarter and I was trying to exempt all of my classes to leave school earlier :D

Thankfully, I am officially done with my sophomore year! Yaay! *Claps*

However, one sad thing is that my summer is gonna be hectic =_= so I may not be able to push out as much stuff as I’d like -- I have a summer assignment for AP Language and I’m attending an online Summer Program. 

However, I will try to type some stuff beforehand so that I still have content. 

Anyway, I present to you -- “Guardian Angels” Sannie and Ddeonghwa! :D

Did you like this concept? I did tone down the suggestive since I felt like I crossed the line a few times in the other ones. (Side Note: I did the GIFs myself, which is why the quality is kinda bad T_T)

Please tell me if you liked this! And please! Do send me a message if you have any requests! My inbox is open!

Have fun with your imagination, y’all!

Thanks for the patience and support! I’ll catch y’all next time!

[shepard-ram]

Antidote for the Lovesick [Antarctic Empire!Wilbur x Reader]

(Fluff, Not a request: Another one inspired by light anons asks- anyways I'm planning on working on my requests again after this. School will be out for the year soon so I will be writing more in a few weeks!)

----------

While the Royal family was well known by default, (and fairly well liked as far as monarchies go) none were as popular as the prince second in line for the throne. It seemed he made for the public eye, able to talk himself out of any situation. With the handful of poems and songs that made it to the people rumors and half-jokes that he must be part siren stired around him. There's no doubt that even without his crown he would have made himself an adored public figure.

It doesn't take much thought to see why prince Wilbur was a star in the empire's negotiations. The Emperor himself was a close second but he was often more fussed about internal affairs. The crown prince was intimidating and a genius when it came to battle, but all that confidence melted when it came to social interactions. Meanwhile the youngest prince... let's just say he hadn't developed the filter needed for the job.

So the poet prince sat at the table and charmed his way into countless treaties and alliances. Needless to say he got very friendly with many rulers and ambassadors alike. The more connections the better after all, but it was only a matter of time before the wrong person got a little too attached.

It was a simple meeting with some local nobles, and one enchantress. It could be It's own story. One starting with the prince's usual banter and a crush forming in its wake, but ending in a turned down confession and alot of shouting. By the time he retired to his bed a soon to be revealed curse was taking its hold.

That morning was filled with emotions and panic. At first he wanted to believe it was nothing more than a sore throat. However the more he tried to make any sound the more he was forced to accept what had happened. His voice was turned to a screech akin to a horse being stabbed. He desperately attempted to sing, only producing a sound that sounded as painful was it was to make. He wasn't just silenced, his voice was replaced with the one of dying demons.

His younger brother was the first he ran into. At first the youngest laughed, after all it was one hell of a noise, but he soon realized just how shaken the poet was. From there it was very quick, how the news spread to the rest of the family. The youngest still didn't stop trying to make fun of his brothers situation. But soon the royal doctors where at his bed chambers with whatever potions and medicines that they thought could ease the affliction.

As soon as they came they left without the barest hint of success. As much as the winged Emperor would've preferred to keep this a private matter it was clear they needed as much talent as possible. They needed more ideas and the skills to make a cure to the curse. So an invention spread to every city and almost every town. It was a simple one, explaining the princes condition and offering a hefty reward to anyone who could put an end to it.

This little piece of paper changed your life.

You were a rather young alchemist, specializing in all remedies natural and magical. The money stood out to you more than most. You weren't starving by any means, but no one in your little rural home town was exactly rolling in cash. Before you knew it you were packing up your things and getting the final "good bye"s and "good luck"s from your family and friends as you set off to the capital.

You weren't the first one to try, not at all. In fact you were one of last with the confidence to try. The thing is, you didn't have the herbs you planned to use.

"Why wouldn't you have them ready?!" You understood why the crown prince was on edge, things were looking more and more hopeless with each attempt. You stayed calm and explained it The best you could.

"The plants I need can be very precise with the conditions they need to grow in, and are often conned on the market. I trust my own abilities more than a salesman looking to make a quick buck." You knew your words reached the trio listening to the pitch, so you made your request. "All I need is the space to grow them and time, they'll take about two months at most. Maybe the royal garden?"

They shared a glance, but it seemed they already had the answer decided.

"How much space do you need?"

You quickly got to work, preparing the soil for the medicine and writing down some notes about the exact qualities of the future remedy. By sunset you were tidying up the servants quarters they had provided so you can stay close the growing ingredients.

On one of your first evenings you were tending to the young plants. That was until you heard a heavenly sound drifting from the other side of the garden. At first you just enjoyed the background music while finishing up your current occupation. As soon as you could you put your watering can down you stood up, very eager to track down the source of the wordless lullaby.

It was a painting, the clouds of bushes more than tall enough to hide the silent signer sitting in the middle of them. The grass while not gone completely was worn out, a clear sign the prince sat in the almost enclosed ring often. You stood in the opening of a leafy doorway. Watching in awe as he played a guitar, eye's closed with so much ease you'd believe it was creating the music by itself.

Eventually the music faded, and in a kick of humor you clapped. Startled he jumped to his feet, calming down a little when he saw that you didn't look at all hostile.

"Sorry for the surprise, my prince." You marked with a small bow. You didn't miss the little uncomfortable look that flashed across his face. "But I couldn't help but notice your song, it's absolutely amazing." You offered with a light voice. "I- I get the rumors now." You could tell you caught his interest with that. "Can you play some more for me, these plants grow faster and better with the company of music."

Rather or not that's just a myth you weren't entirely sure, but with a small smile he honored the request. He followed you out of his little hedge room and closer the area you were tending to. Sitting on a nearby bench watching you work on the newest attempt to reclaim his unnatural voice.

"How about I get to know my patient a little?" The music hiccuped in its players curiosity, silently prompting you to continue. "I ask you some questions, yes or no ones. It might be helpful when it comes to fine-tuning this" you gestured to the dirt that would soon be covered with fully grown medicinal plants. In return he gave his first answer, a nod.

Over the days you grew fond of the routine you fell into. Sometimes you would be asking questions, looking up from the garden to catch his answer. Sometimes you would be telling him stories from your home, about the many people who have come to you for remedies. Sometimes there would be no words, just the gorgeous calming sounds of his music. You could both feel how comfortable this was.

"Would you prefer if I called you only Wilbur?"

A happy nod.

Only Wilbur was very different from prince Wilbur. You've always thought of the prince as this fox, prideful and cunning and charming in untrustworthy ways. But only Wilbur wasn't on this higher devine level, he was a person. A person with passions and vulnerabilities. Only Wilbur melted ideas about himself you didn't even realize you harbored. You liked only Wilbur, that was certain.

You made a promise to both yourself and to him that day. You would lift the curse, you had to.

It had been 43 days, the herbs were ready. "Maybe music did make them grow faster" you entertained. It was the only day you were with the plants without Wilbur. He was in his bed chambers so you could focus on brewing.

You looked over your notes thousands of time over. When you took this job you knew it was going to be one of your most important ever, but now you weren't just curing a prince- you were curing a friend. You paused in setting up your equipment. The term friend felt, incorrect with how exactly you felt about Wilbur. You shoved down the thoughts and continued, now was not the time.

Was it hours, or was it a few minutes? You couldn't tell and you didn't care. In a glass bottle you held the product of your labor. Corked and wrapped in many clothes before being nestled in your bag just to be safe. You took a deep breath and set off for Wilburs room.

He hesitated taking the bottle from you, like he had grown attached to his own silence. When he did take the potion it was all still slow and methodical. As if taking the cork off wrong could ruin everything. It felt like your entire body was on stand-by, paused as he downed the entire container. With a small drink of water he waited for a minute.

Then with a little nod from you, he hummed. The simple notes never sounded so rich and deep, filled with over a month of built up thoughts and emotions. Two faces lit up hearing it.

"You- you really did it." Wilbur was so quiet. As if speaking too loudly could break the newly repaired sound.

Then laughter, and the rambling of words that didn't need to make sense. Because you could hear them.

Then a hug, one of so much more than gratitude. One accompanied with an over abundance of "Thank you"s.

"How could I ever make this up to you" He only now slowed down, only enough to take your input.

Looking over at a familiar instrument you gave that input to him, "Can you play some more for me, my prince." He chuckled, a sound that you already loved as he sat back down on the bed with his guitar.

You recognized the song. It backdroped your first siting of him. Only now did you finally hear it in its entirety. It was a love song. Lyrics sweet and sincere and raw all rolled up by the accompanying strumming. When the last cord drifted off he looked at you, eagerly awaiting your response.

"If I understood the rumors then, now I just might be a believer." How much of that was exaggeration, you honestly couldn't say.

"I'm assuming that's good."

"Trust me, it's more than good." Watching as put the instrument back. "You should probably go tell the others the good news. Especially so I can get my money" you added jokingly. With that you got one last hug and thank you before you both left the room.

As you were walking back to your room something hit you. The realization that this was over. You were going to your temporary room and packing up so you could leave. You never expected to bond with the prince this much, and in the moment you regretted it. If only a little. You swallowed the sudden mood shift and started packing.

"Hey where are you going!?" An already familiar excited voice rang out, running towards you.

"I'm getting ready to leave." You said, bluntly.

"Wait, really?" As if he didn't know you weren't moving in permanently. Without thinking he grabbed your arm like you trying to run away. "We're having a big feast tonight, to celebrate your achievement. You should probably be there."

"That sounds great." You could feel the wave of sadness fade off.

"I thought I always sound great." You chuckled.

"I really wish I could deny that."

"No you don't."

"Only because I wouldn't get my money if I could."

"Come on, that's not the only reason."

"Like it's any secret I care about you."

That put an end to his humor, "Here, let's get ready."

[sylkiekhallows]

A Flute’s Song

Summary: A faerie plays her flute in the woods, and after a close encounter with a hawk, she gets... “saved”. Word Count: 2261

Some time ago...

Light dappled through the leaves of old maple trees, grand and tall, creating patterns on the babbling brook below.  Aurelia sat on one of the silver stones jutting out of the stream, peacefully playing her flute to accompany the running of the water.  Water droplets clung to her wings, but with the gold of a summer sun shining down on her, she knew her wings would be dry soon enough.  

The small meadow reminded her of Piliphala.  While she would return to her homeland when the sun went down, that was not where she wanted to be at the moment.  Aurelia loved to travel to the human world to get inspiration for her own creations, and to just to see what humanity was up to.  She was relatively alone in the quiet clearing, apart from the forest animals, though there was one human near her.  He was a young man who appeared to be writing something—perhaps he was a writer of the sort.  Either way, he didn’t notice her, too engrossed in his writing most likely.  Aurelia was glad about that; while she loved to watch humans, she did not like being noticed; her existence was supposed to be a secret after all.  Besides, it’s not like she was hard to notice either; her dress was pastel pink with a rainbow of pastel-coloured accents, much like her hair.  She definitely stood out amongst the regular calm colours of the forest.

A small chirp sounded from beside her.  She stopped playing for a moment to glance at the tiny robin who was approaching her curiously.  Its tiny legs hopped across the water and the bird settled itself on one of the few stones near her.  Aurelia smiled at the baby bird and waved, then went back to her playing.  Her song sounded like a lullaby, a sweet tune in a warm key, which soon lulled the robin to sleep.  And Aurelia found this adorable.  Her music has put countless fae birds to sleep before, but even her Craeo birds, which had a beautiful shine thanks to being infused with Craeo magic, could not come close to the cuteness of this so-called “ordinary” robin that sat before her.  

One by one, more forest animals heard her song and, due to their curiosity, came to watch her.  When Aurelia realized that she now had an audience, she stood up on the rock where she had previously been sitting.  The brooke surged at this moment, waking up the baby robin and scaring it back to the shore where the other animals were.  “So it looks like I have an audience,” she pondered out loud even though they couldn’t understand her.  “Looks like I need to up the tempo, right?”

All the animals, simultaneously, blinked at her.  

Aurelia wanted to face-palm herself.  “Oh, come on everyone.  I just want one nod.  Just one!  Like this.”  She nodded her head up and down to demonstrate.

Nothing happened.  Suddenly, Aurelia missed her Craeo birds; at least she could talk with them and they would listen.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a sigh.  “You all are helpless,” she pouted, but her playful smile returned a moment later.  “But, since you’re sitting there oh-so nicely, I shall reward you with a tune nonetheless.”  The squirrels, chipmunks, birds, and mice just stared at her as if to say just play already.

Well, Aurelia picked up her flute and delivered.  

Her fingers flew across the holes on the instrument, skillfully playing a fast-paced dance melody.  She had played this one countless times at countless celebrations throughout the years, and her song was typically accompanied by a crowd of faeries dancing in pairs.  But, since she was by herself, she performed half of the dance (well, it would be more accurate to say she performed a quarter, considering her hands were occupied at the moment) herself.  She twirled around the flat part of the stone, sunlight seemingly dancing with her and being reflected by her wings.  

She was nearing the peak of the chorus when she started to notice the dark shadow descending down—a hawk.  Now, given the fact that she was a Minesto, this hawk couldn’t do anything to her even if it wanted to.  However, if her sister found out about the encounter (Aurelia was never able to lie to Aella you see), she would tear her a new one.  So, as the other animals began to flee due to the hawk’s presence, a rose-coloured aura began to appear around her fingertips as she continued to play.  Her flute was no ordinary flute after all.  Aurelia saw the hawk’s talons reach for her, and she sighed.  This hawk wanted to do things the hard way, fine.  She stopped playing to aim the head of her flute at the beast, preparing to shout the words—

“WATCH OUT!”

The faerie looked up in surprise as something—no, someone—big crashed into her.  The hawk flew away quickly, not wanting to deal with whatever was happening at the moment, as Aurelia felt herself become soaked with spring water.  As she jetted upstream, she saw that she had been enclosed in something in order to stop her movement.  When she was still again, the light flickering in between the gaps told her that these were human hands—ah.  She had been seen.

She felt movement beneath her as the human stood up, opening his hands.  He looked a little out of breath, but his eyes were filled with worry as he looked at her.  “Sorry about that—I didn’t want the hawk to take you.  I didn’t mean to get you wet like that—I was running so fast that I tripped on one of the stones in the stream, which made me fall and I—.”  He suddenly stopped rambling.  “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Even if she was, her body would have healed it by now.  She shook her head.  “I’m quite alright,” she said cheerfully, trying to squeeze any water out of her skirt that she could.  “Thank you for helping me.”  Although she didn’t need saving (if his clumsy trip truly counted as “saving” her…), giving him her thanks was the right thing to do.

He looked sheepish, a few water droplets flying away from his brown hair as he turned his head to the side.  “It’s, um, it’s all good—sorry I tripped earlier, so it’s my fault you went flying down the brook like that,” he repeated rather awkwardly, then turned his head back when he seemed to notice something.  “Oh—did you lose your flute?”

Aurelia could never really lose her flute, but she indeed did not have it on her at the moment.  “It appears so,” she began to say before spotting a silver gleam near the shoreline.  She flew out of open palms and down toward the stream, picking up the instrument.  She wouldn’t be able to play it now that it was all wet, but a visit to her sister would fix that.  “Found it!” she called up back to him.

The human kneeled down, his eyes filled with wonder.  “I heard your playing earlier,” he told her, “well, the end of it anyway.  You’re very talented, Ms. Faerie.”

The Craeo Minesto rolled her eyes.  “Please.  Just call me Aurelia,” she told him warmly.  

“Aurelia…” he tried the name on his tongue.  “My name’s Vinson,” he returned.

The faerie was about to have a heart attack when she heard the first syllable of his name, then calmed down instantly upon hearing the rest of it.  His demeanour was already reminding her of the man she loved while he was alive, and she really, really didn’t want to break today.

“Nice name,” she offered, albeit a bit shaky.  Aurelia then noticed that the man had no papers on him, unlike before.  “How is your writing coming along?”

“My writing…?  Oh, it’s—” he stopped and began to panic.  “Ack—I must’ve dropped my papers, please oh please Litezia have mercy on me, don’t let them be drenched…”  He began searching in the brook for his writing, stress radiating from his entire being.  Aurelia, however, was mildly amused.  There was no way that she was revealing that she herself was Litezia, the old god of Creation, to him.  That was simply out of the question.  She would still help him though.

And, it turns out she didn’t need to put in much effort to do that either, for she spotted his papers a few steps away on the grass.  She flew up to his face, making sure she was eye-level with him.  “Over there,” she pointed.  She watched his face go from panicked to relieved when he saw them.  He picked them up and hugged them to his chest like those pages were his child.  

“Thank you,” he told her gratefully, flattening out the creases in the pages that must have formed when they were dropped.  He sat down on the edge of the river bed while doing so.  “I—um, I have one more thing to thank you for actually, well it’s more your flute, but you were the one playing it so—ah, forgive me, I talk a lot when I’m nervous,” he told her in a clearly jittery voice.  Aurelia was patient and just waited for him to finish, and he soon got to his point.  “Anyway…  I think you cured my writer’s block.”

The faerie had no idea what that was, but she assumed it was some kind of funk that he’d gotten himself stuck into that hindered his ability to write.  She took the opportunity to look through his words as he was sorting through the pages, sitting on his shoulder to get a better view.  He didn’t seem to mind her presence there.

“I came here today as a last chance for some inspiration, and your song and dance really inspired me.  It’s the first time I’ve felt this way in a while,” he confessed.  Aurelia didn’t know why he was sharing his life story with her, but she found it kind of cute how flustered he was.  She caught glimpses of his story while he turned through the pages, and while she didn’t enjoy reading as much as her friends, she could tell that he had talent.  “And—oh shoot.  Is it okay that I wrote about you?” he added, sounding genuinely concerned as he lowered the pages.  He looked down at her and continued.  “I don’t know much about faeries, and there’s probably a reason why, isn’t there.”

“If you share it as a work of fiction, under your own ‘imagination’,” she used air quotes, “then I can consent to it.” His face lit up at her words, and a warm wind blew through the area as she saw his smile for the first time.  It lit up the forest more than any sun could.  And it reminded Aurelia so much of his smile, the one that lived forever in her heart.

He didn’t seem to notice her inner turmoil, instead again started thanking her profusely.  “I know you said it as a joke earlier, but it actually was the flute that helped you,” Aurelia told him to get him to stop, holding up her instrument.  “It’s… special.  Its purpose is to act as a catalyst for all creation.”  She once again flew in front of his face so he could get a better look.

Vinson looked a tad confused, narrowing his eyes to focus on the tiny (to him) flute.  “So… it’s an inspiration machine?”

She laughed, a true genuine laugh.  “Yes, though that’s the first time I’ve heard it called that.”  This human, Vinson, was nice to be around.  The sun was warm, and she felt warm… but a good kind of warm.  The best kind of warm.  

But just as everything seemed to be perfectly, that same old guilt began to plague her mind again.  Guilt about seeing him in someone else, about reigniting that emotional bond with someone other than him.

And suddenly, she wasn’t laughing anymore. 

Vinson noticed her expression change instantly.  “Is everything—”

“I need to go home,” she said suddenly, her heart pounding underneath her chest.  “I need to go home.”  She looked at him apologetically.  Aurelia hated this.  She couldn’t feel that warmth from earlier anymore.  All she felt was cold.  An empty cold.

“...ah, I see.  Well I should get back to my desk then, I need to work on getting this published.”  He let out a small chuckle as he stood up.  “Safe travels!”  He gave her a little wave, his eyes following her as she flew above his head.

Aurelia nodded curtly, politely returning his gesture.  “You as well.”  She started to fly off, but he called her back. 

“Wait!  Will I—will I see you again?”

She looked down at him, his eyes pleading, begging for her to say yes.  And even though the odds were against it—he was well above the age to possess any kind of magical ability—she wanted to tell him the answer he wanted to hear.  But even if she did see him again, her heart wouldn’t let her.  It would tell her to steer clear, don’t see him again, because her heart was reserved for someone who she could never meet again.

“Hopefully,” was her response, and she flew away to Piliphala.  It seemed that she was cutting her visit short today.

No, she didn’t cry, not once.  Because today, she helped someone rekindle their passion, their dream.  That meant the world to her.  She wouldn’t let her grief ruin that.

She wouldn’t. _______________________________________________________ Read more about The Fae Prophecy here!

[stolen-pen-name23]

Hey, I love your writing! How about "please talk to me" or "why don't you care?" with Obi-Wan and Anakin for the prompts?

Ahhh thank you so much!!! You're too sweet!

"Please talk to me" and "why don't you care" from these angst prompts. Note: I'm not going to close my inbox, but I'm going to be traveling for a few weeks so if you send me a request, I won't be able to get to it for a while. Plus, there are still quite a few prompts in my inbox I'm working on.

Anyway, here ya go!

---

Anakin hated it when Obi-Wan got like this.

Quiet.

He was never quiet, save in sleep or meditation — two thing he hadn’t been partaking in as much anymore. Any other time, he always had some observation or quippy remark to make. But not now. Now, he sat silently at the kitchen table, staring at his tea, lost in one thought or another.

Anakin knew that when Obi-Wan got quiet, something was wrong. Not that his stubborn old Master would ever express that outwardly. It drove Anakin mad.

Anakin slid into the chair across from Obi-Wan. “They’re going to ship us out again soon,” Anakin started.

Obi-Wan hummed.

“It feels like we just got back home.”

“I suppose it does.”

Anakin frowned. His attempts at conversation were not going well.

“Is something bothering you?” Anakin asked.

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

Anakin could feel frustration swelling up in his chest. What was bothering Obi-Wan? Was it something he did? Surely Obi-Wan would have told him if he did something to upset him. He had had no problem doing that in the past, but now… now tensions between them had become more taught. Anakin wasn’t sure if he was the problem.

“Are you mad at me?” Anakin asked tentatively, feeling like a youngling at the question.

“No.”

“Then what?”

“Just drop it, Anakin.”

“Please,” Anakin said. “Just talk to me, Obi-Wan. You know you can talk to me.”

“I am talking to you,” Obi-Wan said, lifting his gaze from the steaming mug in his hand to Anakin.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Fine. What do you want to talk about?” Obi-Wan relented.

“I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“I have a hard time believing that.”

“You can believe whatever you want to believe Anakin.”

“I believe something is wrong.”

“And you are free to do so.”

Anakin huffed. “Stop avoiding the question.”

“Stop asking,” Obi-Wan challenged.

Obi-Wan sipped at his tea and remained passive — the mask of indifference proving to Anakin that he felt anything but. Anakin’s pulse quickened and he felt heat crawling up his neck, reddening his skin.

“Stop trivializing this, Obi-Wan!” Anakin snapped.

“I’m not trivializing anything. There’s nothing to trivialize!”

“Force, why can’t you even pretend like you care about something for once? Do you just not care about anything? Is that it?”

Obi-Wan looked like he had been slapped across the face.

It was in that moment that Anakin realized that maybe he had gone too far this time – pushed a little too hard in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

“How could you say that? How could you think that of me?” Obi-Wan’s voice was low, almost threatening.

“Master I-”

“You presume that I do not feel things because I do not react the way you do to every tragedy that befalls me? You think I am but an emotionless droid wandering around the galaxy? You believe I feel nothing after… after everything? Do you truly believe this?”

“No, Master, I don’t believe that. I didn’t mean–”

Obi-Wan raised his hands. “Stop Anakin. I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Obi-Wan promptly stood up and retreated to his room without even a parting glance Anakin’s way.

Anakin would not be going to bed. At least not here. Why stay in a cramped apartment with his broody former Master when there was a senatorial apartment with a warm bed and someone who was definitely not broody lying in it?

“I’m headed to your place,” Anakin said into his comm.

“I thought you were staying at the temple tonight, Ani?” Padme replied.

“I changed my mind. I’d rather stay with you.”

“Alright,” Padme said softly. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Anakin replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just want to see you.”

“Alright, Ani. I’ll see you soon then.”

Anakin grabbed his robe and tore through the halls of the temple until he was spilling into the streets of Coruscant. Cold air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t care. His annoyance, his anger, kept him feeling warm.

He should probably take a speeder. It would be faster. But he needed to burn off some energy and a brisk walk through the smog-soaked streets promised some reprieve from the worst of his rage.

The sights, the sounds, the smells of Coruscant all flooded his senses. He did his best to filter it out and focus on his destination, but a storefront was playing the nightly news and the headline passed through his unstable filters.

“Next up on evening news: A planet in distress. It has been one year since the assassination of Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore.”

Anakin’s heart skipped a beat. He immediately backtracked and stood in front of the holo, unable to look away and unable to hear anything else but this.

“With the Death Watch regime now in power, will Mandalore finally take a side in the Clone War? Tune in tonight for predictions from our expert analyst.”

Anakin’s thoughts raced back to the argument he had with Obi-Wan not even an hour ago.

Every tragedy that befalls me.

One year.

Oh yeah, Anakin messed up.

He fumbled around for his comm and flipped it open. “Padme, I’m so sorry, I can’t come by anymore. I need to go home.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Padme asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. I just need to clear something up with Obi-Wan. That’s all.”

“What did you do this time?” she groaned.

“I’ll tell you about it later, I need to go.”

“Alright, love. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Anakin turned off his comm, turned on his heels, and ran.

He tore through the temple just as he had torn out of it. He ignored sideways glances and zeroed in on the pathway to their quarters. The door slid open at his command and he bounded over their threshold. Despite just covering a great distance to get here, the distance from the threshold to Obi-Wan’s room felt greater still. Still, he willed his legs, now tired from his sprint through Coruscant, to carry him to Obi-Wan’s room.

He did not bother knocking. If he did, Obi-Wan would refuse to see him and he needed to see him.

The room was cloaked in darkness, but city lights cascaded on Obi-Wan’s body through the window like artificial moonbeams. He was still as if in sleep, but his breathing was hitched and ragged and anything but restful.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked cautiously.

“Not now, Anakin,” Obi-Wan muttered softly.

“No, I–” Anakin faltered. “You don’t have to talk to me. I came to apologize.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It is.”

Anakin turned on a lamp and Obi-Wan squinted at the warm glow. His eyes, Anakin noticed, were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His hair was a mused and greasy mess.

“May I sit?” Anakin asked.

“If I tell you no, you will just sit anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that more than anyone.”

“So can I sit?” Anakin asked, trying not to let impatience creep back in.

“Yes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “You may sit.”

Obi-Wan pulled himself up into a sitting position and moved sideways, allowing Anakin to sit beside him.

“Anakin stop,” Obi-Wan said quickly before Anakin could get all the way on his bed.

“What?” Anakin asked worried Obi-Wan had suddenly changed his mind.

“Take your muddy boots off before you get in my bed. Force who raised you?”

Anakin let out a sharp laugh. He relaxed. If Obi-Wan could scold him like that, then what existed between them was not entirely broken.

“I hate to break it to you, Master,” Anakin said. “But you had a significant hand in my upbringing.”

“Where did I go wrong?” Obi-Wan said, his half-smile an olive branch.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Anakin said. He pulled off his boots and settled in next to Obi-Wan. “You did okay.”

Obi-Wan’s half-smile lingered for a moment longer before fading away.

“Master, I–” Anakin started. He made himself gentler, softer, smaller — everything Obi-Wan needed him to be — everything he was not. “Master, I need to apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“It’s fine, Anakin.”

“It’s not. I shouldn’t have pushed you and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

Obi-Wan averted his gaze and remained silent.

“I know you care,” Anakin said earnestly. “I know you care about the Order. The war. Your men. I know you care about,” now Anakin’s breath shook. “I know you care about Ahsoka even though she’s gone. I know you care about me and… and I know you care about her.”

Obi-Wan remained silent for a while and Anakin fought the urge to ask him to say something. That’s how they ended up here in the first place.

“It’s been a year,” Obi-Wan said.

“I know,” Anakin said. “Well, I didn’t know, but I saw it on the news, and I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s been a year and we’re still in this bloody war and she’s dead and he’s still…” alive.

Obi-Wan didn’t need to finish the sentence for Anakin to know what he meant. He blinked back tears, stubbornly refusing to let them fall.

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. The words felt lame and altogether too small to cover the true meaning behind them. But he was not Obi-Wan. He had no words of wisdom or comfort to offer — only apologies and quiet condolences.

“I know, Anakin.”

“Is there something I can do?” Anakin asked, feeling useless.

Obi-Wan finally turned to him, and Anakin could feel the loneliness, the sadness, the exhaustion rolling off of his former Master.

“You can stay.”

So he did.

[randomvarious]

Today’s mix:

Back to Mine by Dave Seaman 1999 Downtempo / Trip Hop / Ambient

Back in '99, UK DJ and remix label DMC started what would become a long-running and highly popular mix series called Back to Mine, which would bring in popular DJs and electronic acts to craft mixes that were perfectly suited for an after-party environment following a long night out of joyous clubbing. I imagine the name for the series comes from a hypothetical conversation between a group of people who had just left a club and were trying to figure out what their next move should be:

Person 1: "Alright, so where to next?"

Person 2: "Well, we could go back to mine."

Person 1: "Yeah, that sounds good."

And then when they got to Person 2's place, they would all unwind themselves with one of these Back to Mine mixes 😌.

So, it seems like with the first three releases in this series, all of which came out in 1999, Back to Mine was set on casting world-famous DJs in a different sort of light; ones who weren't known at all for playing chillout tunes. Nick Warren, Danny Tenaglia, and Dave Seaman were all heralded as masters of the packed dancefloors, but not so much the comedown rooms that adjoin them.

But as this excellent second volume shows, Seaman could certainly hack it in a setting such as this. In this hour-plus of downtempo, trip hop, and ambient bliss, the former editor of DMC's very own biblical electronic music monthly, Mixmag, starts out with a collection of total immersion and engrossment before branching out into heavier, more head-nodding fare, and then finishes off with Lamb's "Gorecki," a remarkably sublime tune that manages to simultaneously satisfy both categories.

But the journey to that capstone is well worth it too, as Seaman supplies us with a steady stream of tracks and remixes that seem to be done by some of electronic music's most dynamic duos: Global Communication provide some epic ambient, Kruder & Dorfmeister remix some mid-90s Depeche Mode, Paul Oakenfold & Steve Osborne strip out the vocals from Sneaker Pimps' trip hop classic, "Six Underground," and load up on rock guitar 🤘, and then the aforementioned Lamb takes us home with "Gorecki." Plus, there's also a somewhat lesser known pair from Liverpool called Desert, who deliver a sweet trip hop groove with a dusty snare break and nice breakdown in "Sonic Boom."

"A soundtrack without a film. Lie back. Close your eyes. And watch the in-flight movie on the inside of your eyelids," said Guardian critic Alexis Petridis in a review of this mix from a near-quarter-century ago that seems to still ring true to this day.

A terrific selection and sequencing of tunes here done by one of UK electronic music's brightest lights and foremost evangelists, Dave Seaman. A guy who's evidently not only just capable of bringing you out for a night of dancy hedonism, but can also take you home and tuck you into bed at the crack of dawn with some phenomenal chillout as well.

Listen to the full mix here.

Highlights:

Craig Armstrong - "Weather Storm" Genetica - "Future Past" Sasha - "Baja (Port Douglas Mix)" Global Communication - "Epsilon Phase" Depeche Mode - "Useless (Kruder & Dorfmeister Remix)" Sneaker Pimps - "Six Underground (Perfecto Dub)" Desert - "Sonic Boom" Lamb - "Gorecki"

[hereliesanotherfic]

MtP: Little Tease

Ship: Albert James Moriarty x Reader Show: Yuukoku No Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot) Rating: Pg 13?? Warnings: Teasing, flirting, suggestions Prompt: “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

______________________________________

You let out a soft yawn as you headed towards your living quarters in the manor, the Moriarty Manor to be exact. It was a long day of basic duties, but it never bothered you, quite the opposite- it was a pleasure working for the Moriarty men. William, Louis, and Albert were all incredibly generous, especially Albert. Over the couple years you have worked for them, he grew incredibly sweet towards you. He’d allow you lifts home in the carriage when out in the town, he’s aided you in the kitchen while you cooked or did the dishes, he allowed you some days off here and there just to rest. Not to say him or his brothers didn’t do this with other servants, but you and the other help noticed Albert did it most often for you.

But when he’s been alone with you, it’s been a bit more.

Moment One:

“Master Albert!” You exclaimed stepping out of the tailor shop, his carriage parked in front with him standing outside it.

“Hello (y/n),” he smiled softly. “I noticed you about town and wondered if you were finished? We could go home together,” he hummed, his voice as smooth as velvet. You choked down the frog in your throat, his choice of words made you sound more intimate with him in public which made your pulse race in embarrassment…or…excitement? Nevertheless, you nodded.

“That’d be nice! Thank you, kindly Master Albert!” You smiled, following his wave to come towards the carriage. The driver took your tailored dress and stowed it away and you stepped into the vehicle. Your heart bumped as you felt a light graze on your lower back as you hopped up. He was spotting you while you stepped inside, he probably didn’t mean to touch you. Albert stepped in after and took a seat besides you. It was a bit odd to sit next to him, but his presence was oddly comforting too.

“You know you do not have to call me Master, (y/n)” Albert spoke, his emerald eyes turning to contact yours.

“…I know you’ve said it before…though it feels too strange to say it while in town…”

“Do you think I have not noticed you still do not call me Albert at the manor as well?” You broke eye contact and bit your bottom lip, but he knew he got you before that. “I’d like to hear it.”

You slowly looked back up to him, confused by his request. “Wh-what?”

“ ‘Albert’,” he grinned slyly at you, closing the distance between you two a little bit. You heart started banging against your chest and you felt your cheeks flush a bit. The space in the carriage was small, the distance between you both was now small, and there was no way out from his eye contact. Albert tilted his head slightly. “Please?” Oh, he was absolutely trying to kill you with kindness (and your internal crush on him). You swallowed a bit heavy.

“…A-…Al..bert…” You said his name slowly, the foreign feeling of no honorifics was strange, but it also left a good tingly feeling on your tongue and in your heart. You saw his smile grow large and pure as he sat back into his seat properly.

“That made me happy, (y/n), thank you,” he said, staring out the window now. It took a moment for you to take your eyes off him. You didn’t think that’d make him so happy.

Moment Two:

“Preparing for our guests tonight (y/n?),” You glanced up from your cutting board to see Albert standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was dressed in his clean white button-up and blue slacks. For a moment, you wondered where his jacket was, but the way his shirt hugged his figure, you were glad it was missing. You looked back down to the pepper you were cutting before you mind and eyes began to wander too far.

“Yes sir, there’s a lot to do before they arrive.”

“Ah, then I am sure I can be of assistance!” He stepped to the closet and pulled on a fresh apron.

“Master Albert, you don’t have to worry yourself with that, I have plenty of time.” He stepped over next to you on your left side as he finished tying the apron, pulling over another cutting board that was on the table.

“It’s no worry, if anything I am sure this will be enjoyable to cook with you.” Albert picked a clean knife from the rack, so thankfully he missed your light blush. “What else do we need to chop?”

“Uh, some onions are next, they are on the right side of me under the counter,” you stated, motioning your head to the side. Albert nodded as he stepped behind you and leaned down to reach for the onions. Suddenly, you felt his large, left hand placed firmly on your waist, which caused you to feel his balance shimmy. To catch himself and pull himself straight up again, he pulled up directly into you, his chest flush against your back, hand still on your waist, the bag of onions in this other hand. You could feel his breath just ghosting over your neck and ear, it was so light but it was there. “A-Albert?!” You quietly exclaimed in the moment, staring in random spots on the table to try to gain some sanity.

“I’m sorry (y/n),” Your body tensed as his breathy words breezed over your ear—when did his face get that close?! “I slipped, I’ll be more careful,” he finished. With that, he stood besides you again and began chopping onions like nothing happened.

--

It was small events like that, but your heart was about to explode every time. So at this late hour, the last person you expected to see outside your living quarter was Albert Moriarty, standing beside your door.

“M-master Albert?” You questioned, gaining his attention, he looked up from his thoughts and smiled to you softly.

“(Y/n)…” He hummed. Albert’s eyes glanced you from head to toe, and very subtly licked his bottom lip. You missed both of those. “I’d like to have a word with you, but I figured you’d be tired from the long day, so it’s best to speak inside.”

“Oh…okay, yah, sure,” You nodded quickly and stepped over to the door to unlock it. You didn’t think there was anything else to do, but the idea of Albert in your room sent you down a roller coaster of emotions. He requested to speak with you privately in your room, you were a person of no place to say no, even with the Moriarty generosity. You pushed the door open and stepped aside for him to walk in. Albert looked around your room, simply decorated, the queen bed was nicely made, curtains open and a soft lilac candle burning on a small desk you had. Closing the door, you slowly walked up to him while he was observing. “What can I do for you Master Albert?”

“ ‘Al-bert’,” he looked down to you, an amused smile on his lips. You eyes widened for a moment before glancing away again.

“I..I can’t get use to it sir, you’re of a nobility family, I’m just here to serve you no matter the generosity you share. I still have to respect you.”

“Respect isn’t solely based on a title, I know well that you hold my brothers and I in high regards,” the brunette confirmed, turning to fully face you. “However, I really want you to call me by my name (y/n).” Your cheeks flushed a light pink, hoping that the light of the candle in the room and low moonlight weren’t enough for him to see. He was only two feet away though…

“Is that what you came to talk to me about?” Your voice was hesitant, and he caught that. He let out a little chuckle.

“No, I understand how it will take some time to get use to that. I came for another reason.” You stared up at him, Albert was thriving on your full, undivided attention. He wanted your (e/c) to stare at him all the time, your voice to play its tune all the time, he had fallen for you a while ago, but you never seemed to notice the small attempts he made. Or, what he truly believes, was that the social hierarchy made you believe he couldn’t be attracted to someone ‘like you’. And the more he observed you, the more he knew he was right, and you were just afraid to openly fall for him. “I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

Your heart immediately smashed against your chest at that request, and now you couldn’t stop your face from turning as red as a tomato. Did he really, I mean REALLY, just request to sleep in your room tonight? His green orbs continued to stare warmly at you, waiting for an answer. In truth, Albert was loving how red your cheeks were, how flustered such a simple request got you. He knew you liked him, but he wanted you to admit it for yourself and not be afraid of others stupid opinions.

“(Y/n?)?” Albert spoke, stepping slightly forward and tilting his head closer to you. The proximity snapped you out of it and you jumped back slightly.

“Ahh-hh,…um…isn’t there-..I mean…b-but there are…” Your brain tried to think of multiple reasons at once why he shouldn’t and scrambled them all out at the same time. Albert let out a small laugh.

“(Y/n), please relax. The guestrooms are taken by Moran and Fred right now, and I could never ask such a favor of another servant.” He stepped close to you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek and guide you to look at him. “You and I know each other well, you’ve worked here long. We trust each other. I’d prefer to share a room with someone like you.” His free hand reached up and brushed the hair away from your face as you stared at him in awe and disbelief. That hand joined in cupping you free cheek as the distance between you two grew smaller.

“Please?” Albert spoke barely above a whisper, his eyes half lidded as he stared into yours. You could feel his breath on your face as the gap got smaller. You internally panicked. Wherever this was going it couldn’t be good. It just couldn’t—he was a noble, the head of the Moriarty family! Sharing a room, no honorifics, aiding you, it couldn’t mean anything good for you. You had to cut it off…move…MOVE DAMMIT!

The voices screaming in your head all stopped the moment you felt his lips press to yours. Albert’s lips were incredibly soft, his fingers grazing your cheeks as he held you gently. It was light against you, his lips nicely encasing your top lip. He barely separated your lips as he turned his head slightly to the other side and kissed your bottom lip with a bit more firmness. The cologne he was wearing was aiding your high, it let out scents of soft sandalwood, some amber and something in it gave it a bit of a musky scent. For a kiss that only lasted under a minute, it felt like 10 years just went by before he pulled his lips off, hovering from your face at only two inches. It was then you realized you closed your eyes, because opening them to see Albert smiling softly sent you to heaven.

“Albert…” you barely whispered, staring at him in awe. The fact that he kissed you and broke so many social standings (again). Albert’s smile changed into this larger grin.

“You said it,” he gleamed, rubbing your cheek with his thumb, glancing at your lips thinking when to go back in for more. But he wanted to give you time to understand he was sincere.

“S-said what?”

“My name…” He rested his forehead against yours, staring lovingly into your (e/c) orbs. “I care too much about you to let something as trivial as social status stop me from telling you. And I am happy I was able to show you too.” You noticed Albert’s cheeks were dusty pink which made you smile a bit and giggle. “What?” He chuckled lowly.

“Nothing…” You muttered, glancing down at your feet. You would have never believed it if anyone else told you Albert cared for you. You still weren’t one hundred percent sure to believe it. But because of your strong love for him, you couldn’t fake the happiness you felt from his words. He was scaring away your insecurities and fears one action at a time. One word at time.

“Cute,” he hummed and kissed your forehead. “You can go change and prepare for bed, I’ll wait for you.” You felt one of his hands hold your own, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand.

“Okay...but this stays between us for now and you leave before the others wake,” you stated, your cheeks still a bit pink from the kiss and confession. If he was truly to stay with you the night, you were worried about the rumors that could spread, but so long as he left before other servants woke, you figured it’d be fine.

“Of course, my darling,” Albert nodded and watched you turn to head towards the ladies room. He had been in his robe and prepared to sleep well before he arrived at your room, so all he had to was wait. When you returned out of your bathroom, Albert had already made himself comfortable in your bed, the sheets covering half of him and pulled open ready for you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous, you never thought you’d be sleeping with Albert, literally. You took a quiet, deep breath and walked over to the bed and set yourself into it, pulling the covers over you, blowing out the night candle right after. He began to lower into the bed and sheets and you followed in motion. Before you got too comfortable he spoke to you. “Good night, (y/n),” Albert’s voice hummed right next to you, causing a tingly feeling in your body.

“..Good night...Albert,” you replied softly, cheeks flushing and quickly turned on your side, your back facing him. You heard him chuckle and felt the bed shift as he got comfortable too. And when you woke up, you found his arms wrapped around your waist, your back to his chest and his soft breathing in your messy bed head hair. It was so comfortable...it was worth the risk of getting caught.

__________________________________ A/N: I had fun writing this, these gentlemen are adorable to write for! I’m just getting random inspiration off prompts right now, but if you have any ideas I may certainly write them too!

[marvelousmaize]

you shine (like a diamond)

It takes Geralt longer than he cares to admit to notice.

Well - maybe “notice” is the wrong word. He’s noticed.

He just fails to connect the dots for an embarrassingly long amount of time. And of course, it’s Yennefer, who is always observing, always thinking, always five and ten and fifty steps ahead of everyone around her, who puts two and two together.

And her violet eyes are shrewd and narrowed as she watches Jaskier from across the expansive quarters of some lordling’s estate - one she’s put under her spell, compelled to do her bidding - watches Jaskier strum his trusty lute, humming a tune; watches with undeniable fondness the way Ciri curls into the bard, tucking her head as close to his chest as she can without disturbing his arms, her eyes fluttering shut, an utterly pleased smile on her face as Jaskier continues his little lullaby.

And you’re still so young

Still so innocent

But when you speak

There is greatness on your tongue

There is no distance you won’t overcome

No setback or defeat you won’t come from

And I’ll be standing

Right there beside you

Watching and cheering

Because I love you

Jaskier’s voice is soft and sweet near Ciri’s ear, and she’s fully asleep now in the crook of the bard’s embrace.

And Yennefer’s violet eyes are shrewd and narrowed because even in the dim candlelight, she sees it clear as day.

Jaskier is glowing.

Properly, unmistakably glowing. His entire body is surrounded by a faint but very present ethereal white light, and his smile is hopelessly fond, ocean eyes bright and adoring as he continues singing Geralt’s Child Surprise to sleep.

And Yennefer’s mind is running wild with thoughts of love and glowing and what glows when it loves when -

Everything slots into place all at once, like the final pieces of a puzzle.

“Did you know?” she asks Geralt in the courtyard the next day, her tone conversational, as the witcher fastens Roach’s harness, ready to depart on yet another monster hunt. A banshee this time, terrorizing a nearby village. “That Jaskier is a star.”

Geralt pauses, turning to fix the sorceress with a look that is half-wry, half-amused. “I had no idea you were such an admirer of his singing, Yen,” he replies dryly.

“A star you insufferable Witcher,” she snaps. “Immortal beings that reside in the Heavens and occasionally fall to Earth, assuming human form? Or did you miss that lesson during your witcher training?”

An expression of what can only be surprise crosses the Witcher’s typically stoic and stern face, but it’s gone in a flash, and Yennefer would have been left to wonder if she’d dreamt it, save for the briefest flickers lurking in the gold irises. “There hasn’t been a fallen star in centuries.”

“That we know of. Stars used to be murdered because eating their heart supposedly granted everlasting youth. Maybe they grew more careful.”

“Yen - ”

“He glows, Geralt,” Yennefer interrupts, voice quiet and serious. “Or have you not noticed?”

Geralt starts, eyebrows furrowing as he considers. His lips press into a thin line.

He’s noticed.

He just, well, he hadn’t pieced it all together. He needed Yennefer, who is always five and ten and fifty steps ahead, to force his eyes open to what he’s thought to be improbable, impossible.

“Fuck.”

And he doesn’t very well know what to do with this information - if there’s anything he should do. Because Jaskier - Jaskier, who is always talking, always saying too much, always revealing and confiding - hasn’t mentioned it, not even once.

Which is incredibly unlike him.

But Geralt is so deeply intrigued. Can’t help but wonder why.

And so he starts to mess with the bard almost (“mess” might be the wrong word. Geralt is a Witcher first and foremost, always striving to keep his knowledge of mythical and magical creatures as up-to-date as he can. Geralt experiments). Tries to figure out exactly what makes the starlight under Jaskier’s skin come through.

It becomes a bit of an obsession while they’re on the road, going back and forth between Ciri’s training in Kaer Morhen and monster hunts. But Geralt feels possessed, addicted, unable to stop.

Jaskier doesn’t shine after a particularly good meal.

Or when his singing is received with loud cheers.

Or when he’s offered the chance to sleep on a plush, soft bed instead of the hard, unforgiving ground.

But Jaskier does shine when -

Geralt draws him a warm bath.

When Ciri throws her arms around his waist and hugs him tight.

When Geralt watches him sing with a small, barely-there smile.

When someone plays with his hair; kneads his neck.

When Geralt gently tends to a wound on his hip, focused and guilt-ridden, because he’d just looked away for one second when the kikimora struck the bard.

And Geralt notices, notices that the bard seems more likely to shine when the Witcher has his undivided attention.

It’s both disarming and intoxicating to have the power and know it.

Because, see, it’s been established that Geralt is a bit obsessed, a bit enthralled. And he’s drunk with the heady knowledge that one well-placed look or touch and Jaskier will shine with starlight.

And they’re in an inn in a small town one day, just the two of them, Ciri temporarily away with Yennefer to learn control of her magic, when it all comes to a head. They’re both fairly drunk, and Geralt is unabashedly enjoying the flush of red on Jaskier’s cheeks, at the base of his neck, and quickly spreading onto his finely haired chest.

It’s his significantly lowered inhibitions that push Geralt over the edge he’s been toeing for a while now, and they’re both laughing and stumbling a little as they make their way into the room they’re renting for the night when -

Geralt crowds Jaskier up against the door, caging him in, and there’s an absurd rush of pride welling within his chest when Jaskier - heart thrumming wildly - starts to glow.

He takes a hand to wisp a lock of brown hair away from blue, blue eyes and the bard lets out a deliciously breathy gasp.

And glows even brighter.

The Witcher’s mouth curls. He presses even closer to Jaskier.

“I know,” Geralt breathes, so close to the bard’s lips, “that you’re a star.”

Jaskier visibly swallows, his eyes huge and blinking and wide. “You do?”

“Mhm.”

“How?”

And Geralt’s grin is wide as he says, “You’re glowing right now.”

Emboldened (by the grain alcohol or the shine of starlight, he doesn’t know), Geralt noses along the line of Jaskier’s neck, senses assaulted by starlight and sandalwood and pine. He hears Jaskier’s breath catch when his lips press against the delicate skin of his throat and then -

“Oh, fuck, Geralt. Geralt! What are you doing?”

Geralt pauses; leans back to meet Jaskier’s eyes; is pleased to note that he’s still glowing. He raises an eyebrow. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Do not pick right now to have a laugh, Witcher,” Jaskier says, eyes as serious as Geralt’s ever remembered them being. Then more quietly, “Not now. Not about this.”

Geralt understands. He presses closer once more; wedges one huge leg between the bard’s. “You glow more around me,” he says without preamble.

“I most certainly do not you -”

“I enjoy it.”

Jaskier very nearly reels. And blushes. And glows brighter still. “Really?” he breathes. Geralt is pleased to note that Jaskier is now more receptive; body more loose and less tense and Geralt suddenly cannot wait to uncover all the starlit skin underneath; to trace it all with his tongue and coax all kinds of beautiful sounds out of Jaskier.

“Yes,” he replies, voice deep and gravelly. He watches Jaskier’s eyes darken, hands coming up to thread themselves around the Witcher’s neck and head tilted up. The air is alive with thick, sinful, delicious tension.

And as Geralt bends his head down, a hand twining itself into fine brown hair while the other encircles a narrow waist, he watches the starlight; watches the finely haired chest heave; watches Jaskier’s eyes close with anticipation.

And adds -

“It’s my favorite thing.”

- before slotting their mouths together.

[lilylovessev]

crave || snily au

“You’re just jealous.” Lily Evans remarked sarcastically, a small smile playing about her lips. “I’m about to have a beautiful little badge on my lapel that will grant me the most extraordinary power. over all of you” She rubbed her hands together in a falsely gleeful manner, “Oh, you know how I crave it, how I’ve desired it for so long now.”

The redhead laughed, before then slipping a sweet between her lips. If anything in the world could shut her up, it was sugar. She then somehow managed to tune out of the chatter occuring amongst her friends, focusing her gaze out of the wndow instead, glancing at the gorgeous scenary that they were passing on their last start of year return to Hogwarts. 

It was so incredibly difficult to get her head around the fact that this was her final year, that in just a few short months, some sort of freedom would be all hers. Obviously, she had enjoyed her time there and knew that she’d have a fanstastic final year. However, there was a small part of her that felt as if she had already outgrown this experience. The whole experience of being at school, that was. She wasn’t being cocky. It certainly wasn’t as if she knew everything that there possibly was to know, but this lifestyle felt somewhat restrictive to her. It was comforting, in some respects, but had become increasingly difficult over the last year or so. 

She was nothing short of relieved that given her inevitable selection to the Head Girl position, her own private accomodation would be provided. As much as she dearly adored her closest friends, having to actually live with them in such close quarters was a nightmare. It would be absolutely lovely to have her own space, to be afforded some actual privacy. Although, it wasn’t truly as if she needed it, there wasn’t much in her life that she needed to be particularly private about. That wasn’t overly unfortunate though. She had avoided every opportunity thus far to participate in any romantic dealings, given how uncomfortable that it had all made her feel. It wasn’t as if she’d admit to that though.

//

Lily walked down the steps off of the train, smoothing out her skirt as they started to make their way up the busy platform. A lot of eyes turned in their direction, which was amusing. She knew fine well that her little group of friends had all had somewhat of a change over the summer holiday. They had all very much embraced their lives as young witches, and had spent many a night at various gatherings and midnight meetings. It had been fun. 

Who didn’t want to run around naked with a floral headdress on in the moonlight? It had definitely solely been harmless fun, with very little magic involved other than the magic that they held themselves. Yet, they’d all felt somewhat of a boost in confidence, across every realm of their beings. It had been fun. It was safe to say that she felt far more confident in herself than she had done previously, that much was safe to say, 

It really did feel like coming home, each and every time that she stepped off of the Hogwarts Express. That much she would definitely miss. She’d miss this feeling. The feeling of being in this very moment, there was nothing quite like the journey back up to Hogwarts. This was a new year, the start of her future really. The results of this year would truly set out her future for her, the thought of which was a tad overwhelming. Yet, she had faith in herself, faith in those around her. She was almightily positive, which some found irritating, but it helped her massively. She was very much still trying to prove herself, even after six years there so far. This was the year that everything was going to fall into place, she just knew it.