#swish swish similar trousers

[kitmarlowe]

YEAHHH

[the-fiction-witch]

I'll Think About It

Media Godless

Character Whitey Winn

Couple Whitey X Reader

Rating Flirty

Requested Could you do one similar to the scene from Godless where Whitey is flirting with Louise (who's Y/n) and then he starts getting all upset cause he doesn't think she likes him. 

I walked the dusty New Mexico wilds off to the river to get some water the rains of my horse in hand, no point wasting the little water we had in Labelle just to water my garden. So I loaded my horse and headed off, and of course, I had barely gotten halfway through LaBelle when I had gathered myself a little tag along. But I couldn't blame him, Bill was back in town with is a rarity meaning whitey finally had some time to do as he wanted which effectively meant until Bill heads off on another adventure, I have myself a little lost puppy following me everywhere I go. 

He had his own horses' reins in hand as we walked together chatting about La belle Business, the only other sound was the swish of the grass and the bell on my horse buttercup reins, 

"I don't know how someone with such delicate ears can stand such a racket."

"Delicate ears?" 

"I woulda thought you wanna protect 'em" 

"Would I?"

"On account how how pretty they are,"

"Pretty? my ears?"

"I think so,"

I chuckled a little looking at his dirt-covered face, his greasy hair, his tattered dirty jumper, his shirt that I swear at one point was white, his tight trousers and boots, his hat on his saddle in an attempt to be a gentleman, the side of his mouth turned up into his usual dorky smile, "Was that your attempt at flirting Whitey?"

"Kinda," He shrugged, 

"I see," I nodded, "Try again," 

"Uhh alright..." He chuckled, "You're lookin' a little red y/n,"

"Am I?"

"Yeah? You got a sunburn? or are ya just always this hot?" 

"Ohh god that's awful," I rolled my eyes, "Come on you have to have a better one,"

"Ya look like trash,"

"Excuse me," 

"Ya look like trash, Would you Let me take ya out?"

"Calling a girl trash is not the best start to flirting Whitey,"

"True, How about?" he suggested, "I lost my teddy bear,"

"Awww you still sleep with a teddy?"

"What No! I uhh-"

"Get on with it,"

"I lost my teddy bear, will you sleep with me instead?"

"There's are terrible,"

"I have more, come on you have to like one of them,"

"Alright," I rolled my eyes,

"How about, Are you French?"

"You know I'm not whitey,"

"Cause Ma-Damn." he smirked at me, I didn't even dignify that with a response just glaring at him, "Or, Are you an antique collector?"

"An antique collector?"

"Yeah, cause I have some junk that hasn't been touched in years," 

"AHh yes flirt with a lady by bringing up your junk."

"Did the sun just come out? or is it just ya smiled at me?"

"Where in New Mexico the sun is always out," 

"Did you do something to my eyes?"

"Likely the sun,"

"Cause I can't keep them off ya,"

"We're not socks, but we'd make a great pair."

"I've never seen you wear matching socks in your life whitey,"

"I ain't a doctor but I'd happily give ya my heart?"

"You need your heart to live,"

"Ya hand is lookin' kinda heavy, could I hold it for ya?"

"My hand is fine whitey,"

"You're lips are lookin' a lil lonesome? would they like to meet mine?"

"how are they getting worse?"

"Were your parents bakers?"

"Yeah you know they were,"

"Cause ya a cutiepie."

"Okay, that's mildly good,"

"yes! success."

"Not success, that made me chuckle,"

"Aww... how about.. what's your shirt? I think its girlfriend material."

"It's cotton."

"I'm a little lost.

"In life?"

"Maybe you could give me directions to ya heart?"

"I mean if you're removing your own to give me then they you can surely guess where mine is?"

"Are you a time traveller? cause I see you in my future."

"We live in the same town you will whitey,"

"Are you from Tennessee?"

"No, you know that."

"Cause ya the only ten I see."

"one point for wordplay,"

"I'll take it! what about aren't ya tried?"

"from listening to your terrible lines? yes."

"no, from running through my mind all day."

"You walkin' alright Y/n?"

"Yes, why?"

"would have thought ya could have a bad leg or somethin'," He smiled, and I glared a little confused about where he was going with this, "Well... ya might have hurt yaself when you fell from heaven."

"More like crawled up from hell." 

"If you're here who's running heaven?"

"The crows of evil,"

"I must have had a heart attack cause all I see is an angel,"

"Lot of heaven and angel-related ones," 

"Here I am."

"Okay?"

"Where are your other two wishes?"

"My god, that's awful, why would I wish for you whitey?"

"You're... really not impressed by any of those?"

"No? you thought I would be?"

"...Kinda yeah,"

 "You're not good at this flirting thing are you?"

"I thought it was alright," He said his smile dropping,

"You are definitely going to need some better lines if you going to be seducing girls?"

"'cuse me?" 

"Yeah, I know your type whitey," 

"My type?"

"Umm flirty little deputy with all the lines, trying to pick ladies up around Labelle."

"I... I get this idea you dislike me." 

"dislike?"

"yeah, you've snapped back at every nice thing I've tried to say to ya,"

"Whitey, I'm only kidding,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I don't dislike you whitey,"

"really cause you sound like you hate me,"

"I don't hate you, I do like you."

"There a but?"

"But I just think you're just cocky, immature, and getting yourself a clean shirt wouldn't help."

"You think?"

"I do, you need a damn bath,"

"Yeah, I keep hearing that," 

"Don't you think you should do something about that then?"

"You don't have to be mean Y/n."

"It's not mean whitey, do you honestly think you don't need a bath?"

"Well yeah but-"

"do you smell yourself?"

"...not that much,"

"I'm not saying it to be mean, and I don't hate you whitey. I just thought you know we had the kinda relationship where we insult each other and you laugh it off."

"Yeah, sorry... guess I kinda overreacted."

"its fine, some of your lines were cute."

"You think?"

"some of them,"

"Do you think you'd... maybe... you know?"

"I'll give you one more shot."

"One more shot to try and impress ya?"

"One more."

"... hummm...." He pondered, "Ohh, Nothin' lasts forever."

"Very true whitey,"

"Will ya be my nothin'?" 

"I'll think about it," I smiled,

"Really?!"

"I'll think about it,"

"So... ya do like me?"

"I never said I didn't," I smiled giving his cheek a kiss which made him turn bright red before I walked ahead of him, "You coming or not?"

"COMIN'!" I happily chased after me excitedly, 

[zombubble]

Hiya! Ascension au sounds veryyyyy interesting……..can I ask what wwx’s design as a god looks like? (For possible fanart purposes………..)

alskdjf omg alright okay yeah!

So Wei Wuxian's godly design is very much a sort of fusion of his Yiling Laozu looks (primarily black with red and grey/silver) and some elements of TGCF's general godly character design (mostly the manhua and the in-book art. I love the donghua's character design but they're very much made for simplicity and I think the gods are ostentatious enough to want a bit More to their looks, usually.) with just a splash of Jiang aesthetics because he's got a fondness for lotus.

WHICH IS TO SAY.

I imagine his robes are a deep black with silver embroidery on the outside. His inner robes are, of course, red, and the inner robe sleeves are narrow and long enough to tuck into his bracers. The black outer robes, with as many layers as you like, are long, but the sleeves are typically only half-sleeves because at the start of the story his main thing is archery. (Similar to donghua Pei Ming's sleeves). (He has a black mulberry bow with silver inlay, red leather around the handle, and a string made partially out of his own hair aslkdjf. Quiver is a black and silver back quiver of some sort and the arrows are fletched with black, with red and silver strings. They're very fancy and come back to him, so he made them look good (literally made them, he spent two years making this spiritual weapon).)

Black trousers and boots, and silver armor with smoke designs on his chest, bracers, and pauldrons (shoulder covers). The armor's not overly elaborate or bulky, and fits his form well.

Wide belt. Silver and/or red accents, black if there's leather.

He has. Dark red eyes, because gods and funky eye colors are my jam, and they glow red when he's really using big power. He also has long hair he wears half-up (A topknot like cql!Wei Ying, but better and also longer, maybe a little wavy. I'm fond of his having bangs, too, so it's not ALL pulled back), and on his head is a silver lotus crown on fire. Very tall flames. Pointy at the top.

Because I like being extra and therefore he does, too, he's taken a few aesthetic tips from Hua Cheng and participates in a bit of hair-braiding up top, nail-painting, and some makeup around the eyes, and he's got some sort of dangly silver earrings I think.

When he's really going for dramatics, he has a whole-ass black cloak on that swishes Very Nicely.

All of this sounds very specific, but it's really more about the Vibes. He has multiple outfits, so if you do end up creating something and have a Different Idea, then by all means roll with it! The Palace of Yiling's colors are black, red, and silver primarily (as he's still the Yiling Laozu) and he does keep his goth kid tendencies, even in the Celestial Court.

His magic is red and gold uwu until he re-learns how to manage using guidao when his body is literally made of divinity, in which case it's red and black when he's using that.

alsdkflsdkjf

Thank you for giving me an opportunity to talk about god!Xian uwu.

I love him so much and he's been cooking for so long in my brain. Of course he wears simpler clothing than this in the mortal realm, but his Godly Look is definitely something I've had a lot of fun coming up with.

[luveline]

Congratulations on 2k J!!! Your writing is incredible and my heart does a little teehee everytime you post something <3

As much as I adore your characterisation of Rem, I have read 'this early dancing' repeatedly in the padt few days. And all i can think, is going to the kitchen for water at night, and Sirius following you and pulling you in a sleepy dance in the moonlight :')

thank you so so so so so so much <3 ahe thank you for such a lovely request <3333

You wake up groggy and with an aching throat. It's so cold these days that the walls ache with it, and not even Sirius' arms can keep you warm. You edge out from under the layers of duvets and blankets he's insisted upon and feel the cold air against your bare legs, cringing.

His bedroom is dark and yet so familiar you could manoeuvre it blind and with your hands tied, weaving through clothes and a lamp you hate, his shoe rack overflowing and a milk crate full of records. You pause to gather up a pair of his pajama trousers you know are lying by the door and hop into them as quietly as one can manage, trying the draw string around your waist before you begin the trek down his creaky stairs.

And it doesn't matter how well you know his stairs, they creak all over. You hope he's sleeping soundly enough to ignore them and shuffle through the dim hallway into his kitchen. The blinds are open. Silver moonlight drips in through a generous window and casts lines of mercury over the whole room. It might be dazzling if I could see it properly, you think, wiping sleep from your eyes.

You ran the tap and filled a stout glass with water, sipping as you looked out over the front garden, bathed in light. The chairs where you lounged this summer with friends, sunspun and tipsy, flicking ice cubes at each other during card games you never win and sneaking too-sweet kisses when the others aren't looking.

The ache in your throat eases. You swish water around your dry mouth and swallow the last of it, setting the cup down next to the sink. You look up into the sky and find a waxing (or waning, you can never remember which) gibbous moon, the clouds that rush through the sky giving it the appearance of a coin of ice, steaming as it flirts with the warmer air. Its condensation collects into fine droplets of moonlight that stain your boyfriend's kitchen in a gauzy blur, a dreamscape.

You hear a creaking and look over your shoulder. Sirius is at the bottom of the stairs, mouth quirked down in a gentle frown.

"Why're you up, baby?" he asks, the words like honey from his mouth.

He moves into the room with a similar grace and is instantly drenched in light, gracing him with an apparitional glow. You let him tuck your face against his sternum, arms around your neck and hands at the top of your head.

"Throat hurts."

He sighs in sympathy. "It's the cold."

"I think that's a myth," you murmur.

"Very mythical that you get a sore throat everytime the weather turns, then."

You pull away from his chest to cradle his face in your hands. You mostly shield him from the silver light, the very whisper of it slinking over his hair, giving his dark curls a moonlit halo.

It's fitting, you think, for him to look so heavenly. You tuck his kinky hair behind his ears gently, slowly, pleased as punch when his tired eyes creep shut from your touch. You finish and set your hands over his jawline, thumbs in line with the corners of his handsome smile, index fingers hooked in the divot behind his ears. You can feel when he swallows.

"You're an angel, Sirius," you say.

He looks charmed and confused at once. "Thank you?"

"You've got a halo. From the moon."

He looks up like he's expecting to see it through his eyebrows and you laugh. He covers your hands with his and pulls them away, fingers scraping against stubble. He puts his hands to your waist and moves you, spins you both, so quickly it tears a nervous giggle from you.

"Where's your halo?" he asks.

You move a strand of hair from his mouth and grin. "You're too tall. You're blocking it."

"Or you're so sinful it won't appear," he jokes, turning you again. It's enough to get you laughing again. "What's so funny?" he asks, smiling.

"It's like we're dancing," you say.

"Dancing? You think that's dancing?"

"Yeah, I do!" you defend yourself, words steeped in the joy of being with him in his kitchen and so in love you've nothing to do but argue technicalities for fun.

"I've got years of ballroom lessons that are about to prove you wrong."

And he does, taking your waist into his hands. He dances you around the kitchen, skin glimmering in the light like a mirror ball, and, when he spins you out, you can almost hear music behind the thudding heartbeat in your ears.

He pulls you back, cradles your head against his chest and sways. Time slows, his breathing deepens. You worry you'll both fall asleep standing, leaning against each other like penguins searching for warmth in the dizzy white of the Antarctic coast, though your blizzard is much more pearly and ten times warmer.

"Do you still think your little spin was dancing?" he asks quietly, filling the small silence with his warming baritone.

"Needs music," you say lightly.

"Yeah? Like what?"

You hum your best rendition of one of his favourite rock songs, suddenly, voice high and unattractive to reach the notes of a quick guitar riff.

His laughter, cracking with tiredness, is worth it.

[thebadgerclan]

Dark, Light, and Love

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader x Alina Starkov

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Alina has yet to join you and Aleksander...

Smut!

A/N: I haven’t written for this pairing before, but I’d love to do some more for them in the future!

Y/G/C is your Grisha color (red for Heartrender, purple for Alkemi, silver and your order color for Healer, Squaller, or Durast, red and orange for Inferni, blue for Tidemaker)

If the little girl from Keramzin could see her now… that was what Alina thought nearly every day.  She’d gone from a nobody, a scrawny orphan girl to one of the most powerful Grisha in Ravka.  And just when she’d settled into that role, you and Aleksander, the leaders of the Second Army, asked her to join your relationship.  “I have been drawn to you since we met,” Aleksander had told her, his lips on her forehead.  “We are meant to be together.  Like calls to like, after all.”

You had been in agreement, your own extraordinary power calling to Alina’s as well.  And she felt safe with the two of you; understood, safe, loved, cherished, powerful.  When she came to that realization, the choice had been clear.  You and Aleksander had been together for centuries, but Alina had been yours for only a few months, and she’d never been happier.  All thoughts and memories of Mal had left her, the unrequited love that would never have been more than that.  

Alina walked towards your shared rooms, the oprichniki lining the halls bowing their heads to her as she passed.  Her kefta swished around her legs, the gold embroidery sparkling in the light.  You wore a similar kefta daily, the only difference being that rather than gold embroidery, you had Y/G/C.  Alina opened the door to your rooms, bolting it behind her and proceeding into the bedroom.

She came to a stop in the doorway, the sight stealing the breath from her lungs.  You were naked, perched in Aleksander’s lap, his lips on your neck, hands on your waist.  Alina really shouldn’t have been surprised, you’d been a couple for longer than she’d been alive, but the sight of her lovers twined together sent both embarrassment and arousal through her.  Aleksander saw her and lifted his head, causing you to turn around and see what had caught his gaze.

“Darling,” you said fondly, a sweet smile on your face despite your flush.  “I didn’t hear you come in.”  “You were whimpering my name too loudly for that,” Aleksander said, and you smirked.  “I…” Alina began, worrying her lip between her teeth.  “I can go, if you-”  “Oh love, no,” Aleksander said, extending a hand to her.  “You don’t have to leave.  You can if you want to, of course.  Or you could join us.”

She blinked.  “J-join you?”  “If you want to,” you said, shifting off of Aleksander’s lap, drawing a sheet over your shoulders.  “I know this is new for you, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to or you’re not ready for.  But we want you, Alina.  We’ve wanted you for as long as we’ve known you.  But you need to want us too before we do anything, alright?”  Your concern for her wants made her blush, and she stepped further into the room.

“I do want you,” she said.  “Both of you.  But I…”  “Yes, solnishka?” Aleksander asked.  “But I’ve never done… anything before.  I’ve never been with anyone, no one’s seen me, and I… I don’t like how I look.”  Aleksander let out a soft moan at the mere notion of being the only one to have Alina, and you nodded, rising from the bed and crossing the room to her.  “That’s alright, Alinochka.  We love you exactly as you are, you don’t need to worry about what you look like; you are beautiful.”

Slowly, Alina nodded, and you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into a soft, tender kiss.  Aleksander stood as well, his cock pressing uncomfortably against the fly of his trousers.  “My beautiful loves,” he praised.  “So gorgeous, both of you.”  Alina whimpered, and you pulled back, looking into her eyes.  “Tell us that you want this,” you said.  “We won’t do anything until you say so.”

She nodded.  “I want you, please.”  That was all Aleksander needed to hear.  He rounded Alina to stand behind her, kissing her neck as his hands came to unfasten her kefta.  The silk fluttered to the floor, and Alina instinctively crossed her arms over her chest.  You gently guided them away.  “No, love.  Don’t hide yourself from us.”  Aleksander was kissing his way over her collarbones, eventually taking your place before her, sealing his lips over hers.

“You are beautiful, Alina,” he whispered against her lips as you pulled her skirt down, her undergarments following.  She shuddered under your touch, sighing against Aleksander’s mouth.  “And I love you so very much.”  “As do I,” you said, pulling her blouse over her head.  “Look at you, our beautiful girl.”  Alina was trembling now, and Aleksander swept her into his arms, carrying her over to the bed and laying her down.

He knelt before her and you perched at her side, taking her slender hand in yours.  How many got to see Sankta Alina in such a way?  The beloved Sun Saint naked, trembling with want.  Your lover parted her thighs, sucking in a breath at the sight that met his gaze.  “Look, malyshka,” Aleksander said, beckoning to you.  You went to his side and saw the wetness that had gathered between Alina’s legs, and you moaned softly, going back to her side.  

“You’re so wet for us, darling,” you said, kissing her temple.  “And it’s all for us.”  She nodded, gripping your hand.  “Yes, all for you, please.”  “What do you need, solnishka?”  “You, please, Sasha.”  Aleksander moaned, taking himself in hand and aligning his cock with her entrance.  “This might hurt a bit,” he warned,  “But only for a moment, I swear it.”  Alina trusted both of you implicitly, and she nodded.

Slowly, Aleksander pushed forward, a breathy moan leaving his mouth.  Alina’s brows pinched in discomfort, and you kissed her.  “I know, love.  Just breathe, you’re doing so well.”  After a moment, Aleksander was completely within her, and he bent to kiss her.  “Saints, you feel so good around me,” he praised, kissing her collarbones and breasts.  “You’re so beautiful, Alinochka, so perfect.”  

Another moment later, he began thrusting, and Alina released a whimper.  Her whimpers soon grew to pleading moans, asking Aleksander for more, to go harder, to touch her, to please, please touch her, to not stop, oh please, never stop.  Her grip on your hand was like a vice, and you bent to pepper her face with kisses, praises of her beauty, how much you loved her.  “Good girl, Alina, you’re doing so well.  So, so well.”

Aleksander snarled, his hips snapping faster against Alina’s.  “That tracker couldn’t fuck you like this, could he?  He couldn’t make you feel as good as we can, he couldn’t love you like we do, venerate you like we do, could he?”  “No!” Alina cried, her eyes screwing shut with pleasure.  “No, just you, fuck!”  “You’re ours,” your lover moaned, his hair falling into his face.  “And we’re yours.”

She was close, you could tell; her breathing was ragged, her whines and whimpers growing in volume and increasing in frequency, her back arching, her hips bucking.  “Sasha,” you said, drawing his attention.  “She’s close, love.”  Aleksander moaned, thrusting a few more times before slowing his hips and pulling out.  “Wha-  What’s happening?”  Alina thought for a moment that you might leave her like this, teetering on the edge with no satisfaction, but Aleksander moved and you took his place, on your hands and knees, lowering your face to her dripping cunt.

“Don’t worry, my love,” you said.  “With us, you will always feel good, always finish.  Usually more than once, but we don’t want to overwhelm you tonight.”  And you were licking and sucking at her cunt, lips wrapped around her clit, sucking gently, two fingers pressing into her, seeking that place within her.  Aleksander thrust three fingers into your cunt, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles.  

“We need to get you on the Alkemi contraceptive,” he said, jerking himself with his free hand.  “Then, I can come in your perfect cunt.”  Alina let out a loud, desperate moan at his words, and you moaned against her pussy.  “Fuck,” you said.  “You taste divine, Alina.”  You continued to suck on her clit, rubbing her g-spot fervently.  Your Sun Summoner met her release first, her body going rigid before relaxing, moaning a strange combination of yours and Aleksander’s names.

You followed a moment after, as did Aleksander.  He pleasured you through your orgasm before removing his fingers and climbing from the bed.  He pulled a cloth from his nightstand and set about cleaning the three of you up, beginning with Alina and ending with himself.  You laid at her side and pulled her into your arms, holding her close and stroking her hair gently.  “My love, you did so well,” you praised, kissing her forehead.  “I love you so much, my beautiful girl.”

Aleksander laid down on her opposite side, pulling the covers over your bodies and spooning her, his body molded to hers, the moon cradling the sun.  “My Alinochka,” he murmured, soft kisses being pressed to her neck and shoulders.  “How do you feel?”  “So good,” Alina breathed, reaching behind her to draw Aleksander’s arm tighter around her.  “I love you both so much.  I didn’t think it was possible to feel so good.”

You chuckled, kissing her softly.  “With us, it always will, darling.  And I meant what I said: you’ll come more times than you can count if we have our say.”  Alina’s face heated up and she felt the barest twinges of arousal between her legs.  “I suppose I’ll hold you to that.”  Aleksander laughed, tipping her head back to kiss her.  “Oh, that’s a promise, solnishka.  I love you, Alina.”  “I love you, sweetheart.”  Alina smiled, allowing herself to relax, safe, sated, and content in her lovers’ arms.  No, the girl from Keramzin wouldn’t recognize her now, but Alina found she liked it that way.

[battlecries-dear]

Ive been thinking a lot about gnc jaskier lately (which has alos led me down the path of thinking about gnc geralt but thats a post for later) and just how that manifests itself.

I think that jaskier is queer in more than just sexuality, and his expression is a part of this.

It starts with his affinity towards fancier outfits, not just because of some haughty upperclass view of clothing and class and such, but because he likes clothes that look nice

And sometimes, he really thinks that the simple day dresses and extravagant ballgowns he sees on women look nice,

i think, i think he spends a few months working under a tailor,

and this tailor- a middle aged woman with a quick wit and a big heart- once needed to raise the hem a bit on something quickly, but all her mannequins and dress stands were already occupied

So theres jaskier, 20 years old, full of light and life and curiosity, stood there in a deep red dress, one made for a local noble girl for a party or something if the sort, just, looking

it had long sleeves that brushed the ends of his wrists, and a delicate neckline just below his collarbones, there was stitching along the bodice in a faux corseted pattern that made the fabric look thick and rich (moreso than it was) and jaskier stood there and looked at himself in the mirror,

he felt he looked terribly awkward but also felt absolutely delighted,

after that, he allowed himself to expand his wardrobe,

There was this skirt he always liked to perform in, it was long and thick, and a deep, rich blue color, and it swished and twirled in such a way that made him feel like he was floating

He found himself buying more of the jewelry that would always catch his eye, sometimes the women he bedded would misplace a necklace or two after the fact,

From that same tailor he commissioned a dress, one similar to that first one he ever tried on, but the neckline was higher, and it was a lovely cornflower blue

It was much too fancy for most of what he did, but sometimes he’d wear it on walks through town, or alone in his room at an inn

One summer, after letting his hair grow longer than usual the year before, one where he and geralt were spending a few weeks alone together at a small house near the coast, he made himself up in the paints and powders he usually did before going on stage, put on his finest dress, the blue one, his favorite necklace, -one gifted to him by yennefer- and beckoned geralt to dance with him

and they did, they spent what felt like hours just twirling round on the beach, laughing and smiling, jaskier dipped geralt with the grace of a court trained dancer, and geralt tipped jaskier and dropped him-

-gently onto the sand, but still, he broke out in a fit of laughter

he felt so wonderful, so lovely and so loved and so beautiful and so handsome,

so sometimes hed wear a tunic and a skirt and heavy leather boots, or trousers and a blouse and delicate jewelry, he bought a dagger with a hilt engraved with flowers, and a cherry red lipstick from a street vendor, and he just, was

[littlemisslipbalm]

“You Get Me” Pt. 3 (famous!y/n x harry)

Aka “Kissy” 🥺

honestly its really just domestic harry bahaha and I added that they have a slight age gap ?but seriously I hope y’all enjoy the third and final installment of my first ever writings -  a little miniseries if you will. I loved writing this part sm, probably my favorite part yet. I linked a spotify playlist that was some inspo (I literally listened to your summer dream on repeat for one part that I wrote, that song is so beautiful) anyways - not really proofread and I tried to break it up more so it was less big chunks to read formatting wise

here’s part 3! read: part 1 | part 2

word count: 4.0k  | warnings: makeout sesh, shirtless harry!, nothing graphic tho (I think!)

tag list : @marauderswhisperer, @morgannope, @daddystevee, @kthemarsian, @bi-andready-tocry

playlist for the inspo✨

-

One Week Later

“Hey, Har...change of plans!” you exclaimed as you peaked through a door in Harry’s house.

You’d hung out together at your apartment once since your phone retrieval visit and the two of you had been texting constantly. You loved Harry’s company and Harry couldn’t get enough of you. Harry had called you late last night, ‘Want t’take you out tomorrow, love.’ his voice was groggy as if he was about to fall asleep. You’d instantly agreed and drove over to his house the next day. He was leaving back to London on Saturday, so it was your last day to see him for awhile.

Inside the door you had just opened, a beautiful vintage convertible sat. You had found the garage. “You are so driving this,” you turned to see the man who held your entire heart in his hands walking up beside you. Harry reluctantly agreed and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Ready?” he questioned, holding up the soft blanket he had retrieved for your coastal picnic. You nodded, proudly displaying the little picnic basket you had packed full with food. Simultaneously the two of you reach for each other’s free hands, clasping them together and walking out to the car.

“I’m on aux, you can focus on the road,” you told Harry when both of you went for the cassette device that functioned to allow you to play music from your phone despite the age of the car. Harry loved how assertive you were even if it meant he didn’t always get his way. That was one of the reasons he liked you so much, your strength, your ability to hold your own in any situation, even with him, opposite of how a lot of people treated him in the industry in bids to get in his good graces. You were his match, so similar, yet so unique.  

The pair of you started out on the road. Harry wore a white t-shirt with a blue bee slogan,  purple trousers, and some clean white vans. His rings and pearl necklace wrapped up the look. His tattooed arms starkly contrasting the crisp white of his shirt. His eyes on the road were covered by large sunglasses, but his hair flew out behind him as the wind rushed over the car. You had chosen high waisted mom jean style denim shorts and a lavender femme top with a mesh white floral overlay, it had ties on the shoulders and it complimented your skin color perfect, tanned in from your life in the golden state. You too had your rings on and a silver necklace with your first initial hidden in the pendant. Even your clothes complemented each other.  

The first song to play through the speakers was Joni Mitchell’s “California.” You looked over to see Harry smile and you two began to sing along. You didn’t talk much on the ride, staying silent other than singing along when you pleased, but you always made sure not to overpower the actual song, you didn’t like to do that if the music was there for ambiance. Harry would speak up a little when passing various things, just simply pointing them out. Then, after the first notes of “California Dreamin’” came on Harry couldn’t help buy say, “Y/N, seriously?  S’not like I don’t love these songs, but please tell me you didn’t just search up ‘California’ and are playing tha’?” All you did was shush him and tell him this was one of your favorite songs before singing along.

Then, as the Mamas and the Papas voices began to fade out, Harry started again, “This next song’s title better not be fuckin’ California or somethin’ with-” but he stopped as the light quick notes of “Golden” came through the speakers, followed by his own voice. You grinned and gave his shoulder a little push. You had just gotten on the PCH and you remembered his mention of it being the quintessential coastal drive song a couple years ago so you had queued just in time.

A grin spreads onto his features that had been in slight exasperation at your antics previously and shakes his head at you, does a little finger shake vaguely in your direction, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.”

You both burst out in song, practically yelling the first chorus, Harry taking little harmony parts that most wouldn’t even notice, but he notices them, he made them. You dance in your seat to the song, taking control of the background ‘da da da’s. Harry is in awe of how well your voice sounds with the track, when you sing along to the second verse, much more seriously than the first one you had screamed together. He glanced over at your moving figure that began to sway at the slowing of the song. You weren’t wearing sun glasses and you had your eyes closed, basking in the shining sun. You looked at peace, yet completely fulfilled and overjoyed. In that moment, Harry knew he wanted to keep making you feel the way you did right now every time you were together. The song ended and your playlist continued, random songs regarding California and the feeling you get with someone you care about - makes you feel sunkissed.

-

“You’re literally so corny,” Harry laughs to you when ‘California Girls’ by the Beach Boys came on. You throw side eyes at him, “What can I say, Brian Wilson knew, California girls are where it’s at,” you roll your lips into your mouth and then bite your bottom lip.

-

The drive continued with you giving a rousing rendition of ‘California Gurls’ with Harry as Katy Perry and you as Snoop Dogg as you had insisted. Harry even busted out some minimal dance moves while driving the car, honking the horn at the appropriate moment. You made Harry feel like he was 19 again.

Then, straight into ‘Canyon Moon,’ Harry really was in disbelief of the woman next to him. You got so into the “I’m goin’ home” part of the song. Harry said, “Really like tha’ one, I gather,” after it finished. It was your turn to look at him in disbelief, “It’s my favorite, Har, I remember listening to Fine Line the first time and loving it immediately. Still loved it even after everyone else barely talked about it. Deserved so much more, s’amazing.” You finished with a half smile slipping onto your face. Harry gave a quiet ‘thanks’ and returned the smile.

-

Harry was finally satisfied with where you had landed along the coast. There had been no set destination, just a plan to drive to a lookout for the picnic. Finding a small parking area, you two gathered your items and set out for the perfect spot. The California coast really is beautiful. You’d lived there your whole life, just further up north, moving down to Los Angeles when you started your music career. You ran ahead of Harry to seek out a little bluff you’d seen in the distance. “Oi!” Harry called, but didn’t run to catch up, he had taken the picnic basket and it had drinks that wouldn’t be great if they were all shaken up.

You were right, it was the perfect spot, a little ways up from the set path there was a flat surface on the edge of a cliff, it was safe, with wildflowers and tall grass around a more bare area. You layed out the large blanket, then stood and watched as Harry made his way to you. His hair was every which way due to the wind whipping through it during the car ride, you subconsciously ran your hands through your hair for that reason. He looks gorgeous, you thought.

When he arrived at your little patch, he sat down the basket and you threw your arms around his neck. You pulled yourself into him and basked in his glow, his warmth and scent. He held you and ran a hand through your hair. The pair of you could have silly fun, but you could also be extremely intimate. In these quiet moments you wished you could stop time and live here forever. To live in his arms would be a wonderful thing. “So happy right now, darling,” Harry whispered, the soft swish of grass and the distant crash of waves the only sounds he had to speak above. You said nothing, but pushed yourself even further into his body, a response in and of itself. In this moment, there was no one else, just you, Harry, and the beautiful nature you stood in. This moment was everything. And you didn’t want to set it free.

Eventually, the two of you parted and relaxed into the blanket. For once, neither of you played music, you talked and ate and listened to the ambient sounds of nature. The melodic waves carried the conversation, when neither of you felt the need to say words. After eating, you let Harry pop the bottle of champagne he had brought along, unbeknownst to you, nevertheless when you saw it you wanted to be the one to uncork it. Still, your protests fell on deaf ears. “Y’seem to be getting very used to getting everythin’ you want, huh? Already a spoiled princess after a couple months of fame,” Harry teased as he worked to open the bottle. You huffed at his teasing and your failed attempt to get the bottle from him, which had caused him to move off the blanket and have his shirt be stretched from you grabbing at the bottle and only getting fabric.

“Whatever, don’t act like you’re not a total diva sometimes, Styles.” You couldn’t deny that him calling you a ‘spoiled princess’ made you feel things, unholy things. Of course you found Harry unbelievably attractive, but this was your fourth time being with Harry and the two of you hadn’t done anything besides heavy makeout sessions. You loved the way he said your name, but you also loved his nicknames for you, but this was a new one that seemed to hold some meaning within it.

Harry liked to see you all worked up, but knew he could get the exact same way, upset when things don’t turn out the way you want them. Frustrating. Finally, he popped the cork and you both cheered for the golden bubbly liquid. You had spent almost about an hour on the road and an hour or two already on the cliff, so the sun was starting to make its farewells to this side of the earth. The sky was beginning to light up with pinks, oranges, and lavenders. You both sat back down on the blanket, this time with you sat up inside of Harry’s spread legs, reclining back onto his chest.

You continued to talk, about the view before you for a little, but then each other. Whenever you were together, the two of you gravitated to the topic of enjoying the other so much. Today was apparently Harry’s turn to share. “When we were in tha car, earlier,” he started as you twiddled your fingers on his thigh, drawing shapes. You looked up into his eyes to encourage him to continue. “Haven’t had tha’ much fun in awhile. You…” he hesitated again and averted his eyes from your stare. You whispered a little ‘yeah’. You really cared about Harry feeling comfortable with you and making him happy, so you knew encouragement was helpful when he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Y’make me feel young...tha’ sounds so dumb, but y’really do,” he finally got out as put his hand over your moving one on his thigh. The two of you didn’t talk about the fact that Harry was a bit older than you. He was famous when you were a puberty-stricken teenager. The age gap wasn’t really an issue, you were both adults, but his statement reminded you that he would be 30 soon and you were still in your early 20s.

You twisted around to sit on your knees and face Harry. You placed both of your hands on his face, cradling his jaw and cheeks on each side of his face. This forced him to look you right in the eyes. You appreciated the beauty of his piercing green eyes for a moment and then went to kiss his crows feet on the sides of his eyes, his forehead lines, his hairline, his five o’clock shadow, and his smile lines, that had cropped up as he giggled at you. You were making exaggerated kiss noises as you loved on his face. “First of all, you are young,” you finally said in audible words. You waited a beat, then you kissed his soft lips that were smiling up at you. He was still smiling when you kissed him so your lips hit a bit of a tooth and you both giggled. But, you stood strong, not pulling away to laugh. Harry kissed you back. He shifted and brought his hands up from the ground where they had been holding him up to cradle your body instead. The kiss stayed chaste, despite Harry’s protests when you pulled back.

“And second, you make me feel alive.” “Alive…” Harry echoed you slowly, “Tha’s a better way to put it. I am young,” He smirked and then winked at you. You moved your hands to sit on his upper chest and could feel his heart beating soft, but strong beneath his skin. You grabbed his arm and moved it from around you. Harry quirked a brow at you. Then you placed his hand above your left breast and below your collarbone. Now he could feel your heartbeat, too. Yours, you thought, was beating a bit faster than his, but you didn’t care. Touching like this, made you feel close to him. Like you could see inside each other.  

-

You finished off the bottle of champagne because Harry had to stop drinking to be able to drive the two of you home safely. You felt very warm from it, despite the sun setting a while ago and your bare arms and legs. Luckily, besides the slight buzz you had, it was summer in California, and the nights stayed relatively warm. You skipped to the car and bent over the convertible to put the picnic basket in the backseat. Harry was right behind you and gave your bum a light pat, you pulled yourself up and flipped around, giggling. You tugged Harry in by his shirt and demanded, “Kissy.” Harry snorted and obliged, but with an open mouthed kiss where his tongue basically slobbered over your lips, mouth, and a bit of your nose. You whined, “You’re fucking disgusting, Har.” “Ya’ love it,” he responded with a faux posh voice before giving you a quick peck to your lips and rounded the car, telling you to get in and buckle up.

The whole ride home, Harry had his hand on your thigh. With it there, you occupied yourself with twisting his rings and and dancing your hand around his fingertips. The champagne had made you quiet, but smiley. The music you played was softer on the ride back home, you knew Harry needed to focus with the dark road and you didn’t want the music to distract him.

One song that was of note was “Lavendar (Take 4)” by the Beach Boys. The recording is somewhat unpleasant, but the song is beautiful. It had reminded you of the clothes you and Harry had worn on your date, the wildflowers that had just surrounded you, and the color of the sky when the sun had set on the scene of you and Harry tenderly kissing each other. The Beach Boys are known for their California, Surf pop sounds, but this sound is soft and filled with lushious harmonies, an ode to lavender, maybe a girl named lavender, but nonetheless it was for lavender. Harry harmonized along with their voices, returning to his original state. It ended and went straight into Simon & Garfunkel’s “America.” Paul Simon’s voice passed through the speakers and whispered to us sweetly. Harry again hummed in appreciation for the song choice.

-

When you arrived at the house, you helped Harry clean up the dishes and trash in the picnic basket. Then you sat on the couch, it was around ten o’clock and Harry had offered to make a pot of tea. You looked over the back of the couch as he moved around his kitchen. He padded around, putting the kettle on, opening cupboards for mugs and tea choices. When the water was ready, he got the tea ready, choosing a loose-leaf blend he’d found at a fancy restaurant in Amsterdam. “No cream tonight,” you called, still watching him work his way around his home.

Admiration shown in your eyes as he nodded and finished up the tea, bringing it over to you at the couch. He chose your mug tonight. Different from the previous two, his and yours were a matching set with dark blue interiors with tiny cartoon sailboats. You loved his collection of fun mugs, it fit him so well. After handing it to you, he snuggled in beside you and you took a sip, then rested your head on top of his strong shoulder. You turned your head to give a light kiss to his shoulder, and then moved back to staring ahead of you.  

“Wanna stay?” Harry asked, his arm around your body, holding you close to him. “Can just drive ‘ome in the mornin’,” he continued. “That’d be really nice,” you sighed. This was so comfortable, how was in possible to be like this with someone you’d known for a little over a week? It didn’t matter to either of you how quick it had happened. But it happened, and it felt right, so you went with it. This, what you and Harry had, made you happy so there couldn’t really be anything wrong with that.

-

You two chatted a bit more - about your week of tour preparations, Harry’s flight time tomorrow, various random thoughts, - and you drank your tea. At about midnight, Harry suggested that you and he get ready for bed and then watch something on his laptop. You agreed and ventured into an unknown part of his home. You’d started to snoop earlier today when you had found the garage, but had only gotten that far because you got distracted by Harry’s car.

His house was beautiful and perfectly him. It was big, but his decor and things made it specifically Harry, even if he didn’t live here full time anymore. You reached the master bedroom, located in the back of his house, with french doors, identical to those in the sitting room, opening out to the grass in his backyard. His bed. His bed. It was a California King with tasteful bedding and a beautiful wooden headboard and frame.

You ran and jumped onto it, the bed sinking beneath you and the bedding fluffing around you. You snuggled and rolled around in the sheets, “This is so much nicer than my bed in the apartment, it’s only a full…” you trailed off. Harry leaned against the doorway of the room, smiling to himself as he watched you make yourself at home among this life. “You’ll be gettin’ a new place, soon, I reckon?” Harry asked and went to grab you both some clothes to sleep in from his closet. “Yeah, maybe!” you called out to him in the little room connected to the master that housed his clothes.

When Harry returned, he was only in boxers, but was holding two large t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants, and another pair of boxers. “D’ya mind if I sleep like this? I can put more clothes on if that makes you more comfortable?”

You couldn’t keep your jaw from dropping. You’d seen Harry shirtless before, everyone had, but to see him right in front of you, that was something else.

He noticed you staring at his body and smirked, but then threw a shirt and the pair of boxers your way, “Stop bein’ such a perv, love,” he teased. “Rude,” you muttered, “Was simply admiring...but if you don’t want me to look, you can sleep fully clothed,” you scratched your nose and then shrugged your shoulders.

As you worked to slide off the big bed, Harry crossed the room and trapped you on the edge, leaning over you with both his hands landing on either side of you on the bed. You scrunch your eyes and nose up as he tries to make eye contact with you. He goes to kiss you, but you turn your head and your cheek receives a kiss. He stays against your cheek, drags out your name and groans, “s’teasin’ you.” “I know, baby,” you respond and kiss his cheek now. You duck under his arm and run into his en suite bathroom, shutting the door to change. When you re-emerge, Harry’s in the bed, with the sheets pulled back, and his computer in his lap.

Harry calls out to you without looking up from his screen, “S’was thinkin’, y’know, since you’re always saying your apartment is tiny, y’could house sit ‘ere while I’m away?” You tilt you head as you approach the bed as you ponder the idea. “I mean, I guess ‘why not’? It would be a longer commute into the studio, but this place is gorgeous, and I’m gonna start traveling a lot anyway so I won’t need my apartment for much longer…” You continue to think on it as you climb back onto Harry’s bed and snuggle yourself into his body. Harry looks slightly down at you by his side, he’s put on his glasses, “Think you should, I’d also like knowin’ someone was ‘ere, keepin’ things running while I’m away.”

You nodded and move slightly to rest your head on Harry’s naked chest. His sunkissed tattooed body is mesmerizing, you reach your hand up and start tracing the various designs and running your hand along his collarbones and veins as well. Then you flattened a palm and smoothed it over his right pectoral. Harry hummed and pushed himself further down the bed. “Can we not watch anything actually, m’kinda tired,” you whisper up to Harry, your voice the only sound in the house besides the light clicking of a clock in a different room. Harry responds by closing the laptop and readjusting your position in the bed. You and Harry are a tangle of legs and bodies pressed against one another. Everything is calm and Harry says one word, “Kissy.” And you smile and let yourself pull slightly away from Harry to lean up and kiss him one more time before the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms. It’s soft and chaste, completely closed mouths, but you linger in the kiss, feeling his warm nose brushing besides yours. A hand moves up to his hair and gives it one good run through and then you pull away, “Kissy,” you finalize. The two of you giggle and snuggle even further together.

Your bodies fit so well together and again you were struck with the feeling that you never wanted this to end, even if tomorrow he was flying away, to somewhere halfway across the world. The distance didn’t matter. You knew the two of you had what it took to be there for each other, even if you couldn’t touch or feel the other. Even if laughter over the phone had to suffice for awhile. What the two of you had was greater than all of those obstacles of space and proximity. It was powerful because you were both powerful. Powerful in the way you loved, in the way you worked, in the way you simply were. You fell asleep in Harry’s arms that night filled with contentment. Harry fell asleep with you in his arms that night filled with joy that he’d found someone to share everything with. Someone who was willing to give him all of themselves. Someone who was finally able to get all of him.

-

love y’all sm 🤍🤍 hope you enjoyed and have a nice day

[slytherinnbitch]

Prompt #17

Prompt #17- Wedding

Pairing- Drarry

Asked by @textrovert-01​. Thank you for asking <3

Background- It’s been ten years since the war. Draco and Harry had been dating for the past five. They have been living together for the three of them. 

...............................................................................

His hand groped at the bedding beside him, in search of the familiar warmth of his beautiful lover only to find it cold. He had left hours ago, it seemed. But that wasn’t what woke him, someone was pounding at the door, yelling his name at the top of their lungs. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around for his wand and found them at their rightful place on the bedside table as usual. He swished his wand to open the door while he put on his glasses.

Ron came barrelling inside, wearing proper wizard robes, looking like he had on his own wedding day albeit less nervous but happy all the same.

“Blimey, Harry! Did you just wake up? The wedding starts in an hour and half!” he practically shouted, giving him a headache.

“An hour and half? Why that is more than enough time I need to get dressed, isn’t it?” He knew it wasn’t--not on his own wedding day but he might as well try.

“Draco would have killed you. He has been up for almost three hours now, double checking then triple checking the quadruple checking everything. He was then stolen by Mione, Pansy and Blaise to get him dressed properly. Bloody hell, mate but now I’m going to be in trouble if you aren’t ready.” He looked terrified at that idea as anyone who knew Mione and Draco’s wrath should be and well, thinking of them combined made him shudder as well.

“Alright fine! Let me get my robes and then we’ll see what to do with this thing called my hair, sound good?”

“Right now, that is all that I would get so it’s great! Rush now!” he exclaimed as he left to get Harry something to eat while he showered and got dressed, because there was no way he could get away with not showering even though he was late as hell.

He shaved as quickly he could, using the muggle way; even after all these years that was the better and more comfortable way for him. 

As he brushed his teeth, he reflected back to last night and how both of them had been forced to sleep separately. It’s the tradition Harry Molly had said, and he couldn’t have argued with her, anyone but her. Narcissa had said the same words as well and he was forced to oblige both of his mother figures.

That was until Draco had slipped into bed, just after midnight when everyone had already gone to bed. He had shushed Harry when Harry told him that it might be bad as per the traditions, he had then proceeded to cuddle him from behind, peppering small kisses all over his neck as he fell asleep.

They had woken up early morning, sharing some more languid kisses before Draco slipped back to his own room to get another hour or so of sleep, while Harry slept like the dead. 

Merlin, he still couldn’t believe he was going to marry Draco fucking Malfoy at last.

Although he knew Ron would surely have his head, he took his time in the shower, soaping his body meticulously and just being. He won’t get another slow moment in the whole day so he cherished it.

.......

“Where are my cuffs?” he asked Ron as he buttoned up his dress shirt. He was wearing a silver dress shirt with black trousers and a black tie. They had after many many arguments decided upon wearing robes complimenting their own eye colours. He had been teased mercilessly by Draco for wearing Slytherin  colours on his wedding. He had told him about his sorting ceremony and that made Draco shut up real quick. They had also made their wedding theme upon those two colours as well, although Ron’s hair clashed hideously with both colours, still he had somehow used black outer robes to make him look slightly less-strange.

“Uh...well....” he looked sheepishly at Harry as he brushed his hand over his hair. 

“Ron Weasley, tell me where my cuffs are? My soon-to-be husband will leave the altar when he sees that I’m without cuffs so tell me now!” Ron had told him that he would take care of the cuffs and he had left it to him but now he didn’t know what to do!

“Alright mate, don’t get so much worked up.”

“Don’t get so much worked up, my arse. Tell me now! I’m supposed to meet him before the wedding anytime now!” Harry knew his voice was octave up but he didn’t care, not now.

Just then, Hermione entered the room, wearing a silver dress which made her look ethereal, what with her bushy hair-somewhat sleaked up and complexion. 

“Wow Mione, you look amazing!” he exclaimed as he took in her outfit properly.

“Why Harry, you don’t look bad yourself.”

“Except the fact that someone was supposed to take care of my cufflinks for me.” He looks pointedly at Ron but Hermione just laughs.

“Mione!!! You are supposed to scold him.” he whines.

“Oh love. It’s alright. The cuffs are in perfect condition but they are with someone else.”

“So tell them to bring it here. I’m to meet Draco any moment now.”

“That’s why I’m here to take you to him. Now come on!”

“But the cuffs!”

“Harry, don’t you understand?” “Understand exactly what Mione?”

“What are you gifting Draco now?”

“Cufflinks for the wedding, you know this Mione.”

“And does he know about them?”

“No”

“Don’t you think he is frantic about the fact that he doesn’t have his cuffs?”

“You can hold him off. Mione, how is this even relate--” he stops mid-sentence as Mione fixes him with her how-can-someone-be-this-oblivious stare, and after a moment it finally clicks, “Oh.....ohhhhh.”

“Yes, exactly now let’s go and leave the outer robe for later, just come with what you’re wearing right now.”

So that’s how he finds himself, standing before another unknown door of the Manor where the wedding is being held. Mione and Ron by his side; just as he is about to open the door Hermione makes a disapproving noise and he stops. She produces a green blindfold and much to Harry’s reluctance covers his eyes.

“Is this really necessary?” “Yes it is, now get inside, here hold my hand.”

He hears gasps as he gets inside, followed by numerous compliments from all their friends because of course everyone is present.

“Potter” He hears the familiar drawl from somewhere infront of him and then Hermione is dragging him to the.....center of the room?

She makes him stand a couple of inches away from Draco so his hands wander in front of him in search of the warmth he had been searching since he left in the morning and then just like that, they both are clasping their hands together.

Draco’s hands feel just about right in his own, he draws him closer so they touching. He leans forward and sure enough a pair of eager lips are waiting there to be kissed. So he kisses him thoroughly, ignoring the snickers and cat-calls of their friends. He smiles slowly, as they break apart even though their lips are still touching.

“Hey, Malfoy.”

“Miss me, Potter?”

“More than you would ever know.”

“I think I know, because I missed you all the same.” Draco leans forward to peck him once more, then leans against his forehead. They don’t need words, just being in each other’s presence speaks a thousand sentences for them.

But they are brought back to reality as someone coughs loudly and they break apart, not exactly because there is at max a inch between between them.

“In case you both are done, we do have an wedding to attend. May I bring it to your attention that it is your wedding?”

“Yes we know that Granger. It is our wedding, we are allowed to be late.”

“Absolutely not, Draco.” It’s Pansy who speaks this time, “Also don’t you both have something to give.”

He had completely forgotten about the cuffs, he takes them out of his pocket and presents it to Draco, who gives him a similar box in his other hand.

“Can’t we see them?” he asks, eager to find out what Draco had given him.

“Not now, you can look when you get back to your respective rooms.” Ginny replies.

They both mutter ‘fine’ respectively as they shove them inside their pockets. They are going to be late but this feels right, so much right that Harry doesn’t want to leave, even though he knows he will again be with him in fifteen minutes. He just likes this moment so so much. He shuffles forwards and hugs him tightly, placing his head in the crook of Draco’s neck and feels Draco do the same. 

They stand like that for an eternity before Hermione hesitantly tells them that it would be really late now. So he leaves, he lets Hermione drag him out of the room and when he opens the blindfold he realises he has tears in his eyes.

“Oh Harry.” Hermione whispers as she sees the tears.

Ron just silently whips away the tears and squeezes Harry’s hand. He knows how it feels like, after everything they are finally finally going to be together and no one can come in between them now. No one. Not the Wizarding World. Not Lucius Malfoy. No one.

......

He walked down the aisle with Molly, looking at all his friends and family standing there with the flower girl, Victoire and ring bearer, Teddy just in front of them.

He kissed Molly’s cheek and stood just in front of  the officiant who in their case was Andromeda, on both of their mutual request and decision.

He looked up just in time to see Draco enter with Narcissa. Narcissa must have looked great as well but his eyes were just for Draco now. He looked absolutely ethereal. His hair was styled back with a bit of gel, but still wavy somehow. He was wearing silver dress robes which upon looking properly had intricate designing with a emerald green silk dress shirt him inside and a silk black tie.

He then, finally looked into his eyes and he was lost. They held so much emotion that his smile couldn’t convey. They held so so much love and happiness and content. He was looking into his eyes and he was smiling at him in that sweet manner that was reserved just for him. It made him feel giddy with happiness as Draco mouthed a silent ���I love you’ and grinned---

“Avada Kedavra.”

It was loud among the otherwise silent room. They locked eyes for one last time before he collapsed. Almost instantaneous wands were drawn out and people started starting shouting but he couldn’t focus on that, on anything.

Because his world had just fallen apart.

[superangsty]

Sooo for Jesus Christ Superstar - thoughts on Pilate??? (Bc for so long the only version i knew was the completely unhinged leather Pilate from 2000 so when i saw what the live arena tour did i got whiplash!)

Oh my god okay I’ve rewritten my answer for this SO many times and what’s deep in my heart I want to say is that my favourite Pilate is from the 2018 barbican production because my favourite EVERYTHING is from that production however I don’t wanna just leave you with that because there’s like 2 minutes total of footage for that production and only about 1 second of that features pilate and also I didn’t just rewatch pilate’s scenes from 4 different productions for nothing so lets move on. just know that he fucked though.

I’m gonna go through them one by one bc I have So Many Thoughts oh my GOD:

1973 I love his squeaky voice I love his acting choices like his facial expressions and the way he carries himself I’m trying to think of something to compare it to but he’s like a snippy gay best friend this is a bad example but kinda like jack from will and grace... also I am OBSESSED with the moment he sings ‘i wash my hands’ and literally washes his hands. okay also but when he first touches jesus after the floggings and his hands come away covered in blood and theres a couple of seconds of him just staring at them like YES this is what i LIVE for and it really reminds me of how in the 2018 barbican production when judas accepts the silver he dips his hands in silver paint and his hands are covered in it for the rest of the show like YES MORE of the physical representations of guilt!!!!! ALSO all Pilates should have capes they can swish around and if they don’t it’s a failure of a production.

2000 I think his voice is really interesting like it’s kinda? mellow? idk how to describe it but it’s good and also sometimes when he sings the words really fast I’m like YES! obsessed with his outfit the eyeliner leather duster with shouder pads sculpted abs combo is truly beautiful, love his acting choices he’s a shouty boy! but also in terms of acting I think 2000 and 2018 are the only two productions where he visibly recoils when he meets jesus’ eyes when singing ‘look at your jesus christ’ and I LOVE that, also of all the Pilates he starts showing regret over all of it the earliest like before the floggings even you can see that he really Does Not want to do this y’know? And the way he keeps looking away during the floggings! Oh my god! Also I think that he and Glenn Carter play off each other really well in a way that none of the other jesus & pilate combos do… and ALSO when rewatching that scene for this answer I noticed for the first time that the choreography was mirroring that painting I forget the name but you know the one! Oh my GOD look at it!!!!

They do this with jesus and judas in the 2018 barbican production as well oh my GOD. Lotta parallels coming up here huh.

2012 arena tour pilate I think is tied for my favourite with 2000 though for a very different reason which is that obviously the 2012 production’s goal was to make everything ‘modern’ and while it sucked in a lot of areas (mel c being the most notable failure) something they did really well was representing Pilate as this man who holds incredible power and who does terrible things at a high level but he’s still capable of caring about people as individuals if perhaps not as groups and so he’s reluctant to do anything to jesus because to him it’s too Personal. Everything about that like the casting choice the acting the choreography the costumes I think it’s BRILLIANT. Also of these four Pilates he’s definitely the best singer so kudos to him on that.

2018 live in concert I Really don’t care for at All but for Pilate specifically I am Obsessed with his red coat/sparkly gold shirt/maroon leather trousers outfit I think I’m gonna try make a similar coat this winter like I am OBSESSED with it truly. At first listen I thought he was a pretty decent singer and when put against john legend he’s a brilliant actor but the singing all falls apart at the end of trial before pilate and im like huh okay so this really is the worst cast ever put together huh. A couple of things I do like about him is that he sounds like he’s singing ‘are you king, king of the juice?’ which made me chuckle and I LOVED his delivery of ‘how can someone in your state be so cool about his fate’ but that’s kinda. It.

Lemme do some quick rankings!

My personal favourites: 1) 2000/2012, 2) 1973, 3) 2018

Singing: 1) 2012, 2) 1973, 2.5) 2000, 3) 2018

Acting: 1) 2012, 2) 1973/2000, 3) 2018

Costumes: 1) 2018, 2) 1973, 3)2012/2000

General campness 1)2000, 2) 1973, 3) 2018, 4) 2012

[fleetingpieces]

Everything we were CH 4

I was kinda waiting to post the chapters I already have for this fic, but work is keeping me hostage and I couldn’t finish MOIAM and I miss writing, so here ya go

Enjoy some marauders❤️

Special thanks to @knittingdreams for being such an amazing friend and beta❤️

Please check the tags for CW!

Masterlist ¦ Ao3

Chapter 4

“GRYFFINDOR!”

When the Hat announced that to the whole school, Sirius felt the blood leave his face. His thoughts were all jumbled. He had always felt a bit different than the rest of his family, and in the last few years he’d started drifting further and further away from them. But the Blacks had always been in Slytherin. Yes, he had thought about the possibility of this happening, and some part of him actually felt relieved, but it was still a shock to hear. His first reaction was to look up to the Slytherin table, smiling slightly at his cousin. When he saw Narcissa’s fuming glare however, his smile fell and he looked down. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the gryffindors erupted in a wild applause and cheer.

He quickly took the Hat off and walked to the table, feeling dumbstruck, until his eyes found James’ and the boy gave him a thumbs up with a happy grin. Sirius relaxed a fair amount after that, kind of enjoying the bemused faces smiling up at him as he took a place on the bench.

The red haired girl from the train, Evans, was the second student to be placed in Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make some space for her, given that they were now housemates, but as soon as the girl recognized him, she threw a pointed look his way and promptly ignored him. Sirius rolled his eyes. What a stuck up.

Then a boy named Remus Lupin got called to the front and sat down with the Hat, shifting nervously. After only one second, Sirius saw the boy’s body go completely still, his face turning awfully pale. He wondered what the Hat could be telling him. But then the boy got sorted into Gryffindor as well; he came to sit down next to Sirius in a dazed state similar to the one he himself had been in.

Two more girls were consecutively placed in their house. The gryffindors were almost howling at this point, but Lupin was looking down, not noticing anything around them, stuck in his own thoughts. So Sirius decided to take the initiative. They were going to spend basically 7 years together after all.

“Hello.”

He was faced with bright amber eyes, and it was only then that Sirius realized it was the lad from the station. The boy gave him an apprehensive once over, before his eyes stopped at the sleeves of his robes and stayed there. Sirius tilted his head as the silence dragged by. Then Lupin’s head snapped up and he replied shyly.

“Um, hi.”

Sirius smiled, somehow reminded of Regulus. He thought about something to say, but before he could come up with anything interesting, the students around him started cheering again, and a pudgy blond boy sat in front of them. Sirius suddenly thought of James and tried to locate him between the remaining students, finding him just as he was called over by Professor McGonagall.

When James put the Hat on his head, a sudden fear took hold of Sirius. What if James was sorted into another house? They had bonded so quickly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time together if they were in different houses, and what if Sirius couldn’t make other friends?

His thoughts were put at ease fairly quickly though, as James was sorted into Gryffindor as soon as his bum had touched the stool.

The rest of the evening was a breeze of happiness for Sirius, with just a little prick of doubt. He knew his family was a bit obsessed with the snake house and purebloods, but surely they wouldn’t hate him for this. He could still achieve great results at school even if he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never really liked Narcissa anyway, so she could just bugger off. His parents wouldn’t care, right? 

However, he forgot all about that uneasiness when they were guided through the castle to the common room, and he and James struck an animated conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. All in all, it was a great start of his school life.

 ***

 There was a draft coming from one of the windows of the big Charms classroom, making Remus shiver. He pulled at the sleeves of his jumper to cover his hands completely, the movement reminding him how uncomfortable he felt in his new uniform. He wasn’t used to clothes like this, most of his wardrobe at home was muggle. Jeans and sweatshirts were so much better than shirts, trousers and Merlin, that damned tie. How the hell was anyone able to make that thing look good and not a rumpled knot was beyond him. The only redeeming fact about the piece of clothing was whatever charm came with it. Remus had been surprised that morning before breakfast, when he’d gone through his trunk and found that his tie and the lines at the cuffs and neck of his jumper had changed from black to bright red and gold. He was faintly aware that he shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but he just couldn’t help but try to figure out which spell was used on the school uniforms.

A loud thump beside him made him look up.

“Man, how did you find the classroom so fast? I’ve been wandering around for ages with those bloody staircases and whatnot. Had to ask a prefect to help me!” Pettigrew ranted, noticing with a weary glance that he was the last one in, but he seemed relieved that the class hadn’t started yet.

Remus gave him a noncommittal hum. He had been avoiding the other boys as much as he could since the feast last night, which wasn’t easy given that apparently all four of them would be sharing a dorm together. It made things so much more complicated. Remus had to take special care to get changed in their private bathroom, he didn’t want any of them seeing his body.

Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something more, but then Professor Flitwick appeared behind the desk, standing on top of a pile of books that didn’t look too steady, if you asked Remus.

“Alright students, please take out your wands,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Today we are going to learn about the Levitation Charm. This charm is an excellent test of your magical skills, wand control, and above all, patience!”

Remus felt the excitement filling him up. Finally, he would be able to try his new wand! He hadn’t dared use it at his house, to risk giving the Ministry an excuse to visit them and find out about him. No, Remus had been very careful and had pushed down on his anxiety.

But now he could finally try his hand at some spells!

Looking up at the Professor with bright eyes, he listened carefully to the explanation, taking in every detail of the demonstration. He actually knew most of the theory already, as he had read about it while at home.

“Now, try it yourselves. Don’t forget to do the right wand movement!”

Remus looked at the big white feather in front of him. To keep the nervousness from showing, he gripped his wand tightly, feeling a warm sensation spreading to his fingers. The students around him were chanting the spell out loud, the swish of wands drifting through the air, whoops of joy when someone got it right.

It’s ok, calm down already, Remus thought to himself.

He squared his shoulders, flicked his wand once…and nothing happened. His eyebrows drew together as he tried again. Nothing. He could clearly hear other students had succeeded already, but his feather was as unmoving as it had been when he’d set it on top of the desk. Maybe he was doing something wrong? After a few more tries with the same result, Remus started panicking. Was he not good enough? Did he have zero magical skill?  Would the Headmaster realize he’d made a mistake and send him back home?

Then a darker, scarier thought crossed Remus’ mind. What if it had to do with him being a creature? Was he too much of a monster already that he couldn’t use magic anymore? His condition had taken so much from him already, that he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Remus was scared to look up, but if his lack of magic was a characteristic of his kind, he had to make sure that no other student had noticed. No one could know. Glancing around, he saw Pettigrew waving his wand frantically, sweat forming on his forehead, the white plume in front of him lying lazily on the table. With a tiny bit of hope, he noticed that quite a few students were still having problems, even if most of them seemed to have gotten at least some reaction from their feathers. Except from him and Pettigrew, that is. Apparently, they were the only ones not accomplishing anything.

Remus exhaled a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t a complete monster yet.

The teacher had said they would need patience, so he kept trying and trying, purposefully avoiding to look at Potter and Black, who were making their own quills clash around in the air while laughing. The theory was all in his head, the words and wand movement fresh in his memory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the way magic was supposed to work. The practical part of it was completely new, he had no reference as to what it should be like, as he hadn’t had any way to practice this at home.

Just as the bell rang, Remus felt something clicking in his head. The feather made a turn in the air, making his heart skip a beat, and he smiled happily as it hovered shakily in front of his eyes.

“Merlin, at least you were able to do it in the end,” said Pettigrew with a bitter scowl.

The pudgy boy had only managed to make his quill toss and turn on the table top. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I think yours was taking off that last time.”

Pettigrew's face lit up a bit, and Remus wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Was that comment too friendly?

“Good on you, Lupin!” said a voice from behind them. Remus turned around to face Potter, who had Black sitting right next to him. “A lot of people don’t get it on the first lesson. At least that’s what my Dad said.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if they were making fun of him or not. All the other students were leaving already, the sound of shuffling feet on the hallways filling the air. So he gave Potter a small nod and hurried out as well, leaving the boys slightly stunned. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t know how else to interact with them. It would be better if he didn’t have to do that at all.

The first year gryffindors had some free time before lunch and, thinking about ways to keep himself busy, Remus decided to explore the castle a bit. It really was a pain to get around without getting lost, Remus had only found the classroom by following other students discreetly. He wanted to get acquainted with every hall and passage, and he really wanted to figure out the pattern of those bloody moving staircases. He’d nearly fallen five floors that morning when one of them started moving just as he was getting on.

Remus reached the hallway on the third floor, thinking about how nobody seemed to mention anything about the multiple dangerous things the school housed. Maybe that was why he’d been allowed to attend.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice there was something in his way until he bumped face first into it. Rubbing his nose and cursing under his breath, he looked up to find Avery, the bulky first year from Slytherin, looking down his nose at him.

“Watch where you’re going, you dirty scum.”

The boy was barely a few inches taller than him, but he was wide; his arms were probably three times the size of Remus’. His short dark hair was cut in a way that made his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes harder. Avery had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Remus like he was a piece of meat. Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

The situation reminded him an awful lot of some experiences he’d had with some neighbourhood kids when he and his family had lived in East Sussex. Avery seemed like the kind of mindless bully that would love to pick on Remus just because of his small and scrawny complexion. Those other kids had certainly enjoyed making him their preferred target. But it was precisely because of that, that Remus knew to keep an eye on his surroundings and scurry when necessary. So he went around Avery, muttering a half-hearted apology and trying to move along, but was soon stopped by another figure that came from behind the slytherin.

“What’s the problem here?” a tall boy with platinum hair drawled. Remus contained a whine and looked up, he’d almost gotten away. There was contempt in the bloke’s voice as he looked at Remus. “Who are you?”

Remus silently studied the blonde for a second. The way he held himself, like he was royalty, was similar to Black’s, but different at the same time. His robes were equally expensive, he had a green and silver tie, and a badge pinned to his chest. Of course he was a prefect. Remus had that kind of luck. There was something in the older boy’s pale blue eyes that was making Remus’ hairs stand on end; he looked like he could be trouble, the kind Remus was aiming to avoid as much as possible.

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin?” the prefect sneered. “I’ve heard about your father’s preferences. You are a half-blood.”

It wasn’t a question, so Remus didn’t deign to give him a reply. The way he’d said the last word though, as if it was rotten garbage in his mouth, had Remus frowning. What did that even mean? The bloke was making him nervous, and Remus tried not to shift in place. He didn’t want anyone looking at him that closely, let alone a prefect. No one could know.

“Um, who are you?” his voice sounded smaller than he would have liked, and Avery smirked as the prefect narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Watch your mouth, boy. It’s Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. You’d do well to remember my name.”

As Malfoy took a step forward, a large group of students appeared around the corner, almost bumping into them when they filled the whole corridor. Remus decided to use that chance to get away before things could get worse, and as the students walked past he blended in with them and disappeared into another hallway. He’d learn to recognize when someone was best to avoid, and Malfoy was definitely someone he didn’t want to cross paths with more than necessary.

Remus walked fast, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, and went in the first room he could find. Closing the door behind him, he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It was his first day of school, and he’d already had to escape from some possible bullies. He wasn’t kidding himself, the kids from his old neighbourhood had no idea why Remus was so weird, but he knew the students at Hogwarts would be able to tell if he showed enough signs, if they saw his scars. He hoped running away hadn’t made things worse.

Sighing, Remus opened his eyes again and was stunned to see where he’d ended up in his haste.

Books.

Thousands of books, right in front of him, neatly organized on shelves. He glanced around with his mouth slightly open. Rows and rows of bookcases, going from one wall to the other, filled the room. There were only a handful of windows that filtered the morning light, giving the space a calm atmosphere. A few students were sitting on the tables scattered all over the big room, but everything was so very quiet; the only sounds were those of quills going over parchment and pages turning.

Remus walked ahead, his eyes glued to all those old volumes, until he reached the front desk and a woman with a deep scowl appeared in his line of sight.

“Are you lost?” she barked.

She was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there. Remus felt himself shrink under that look, but the temptation was too much to just let it slide.

“No, um…are we allowed to borrow any of these books?” He knew that his eyes were wide, probably making him look a bit insane, but he couldn’t erase the expression from his face. To his surprise, the woman’s glare dimmed a little bit. Not enough to make her look less scary though.

“You can borrow any book, except for those on the Restricted Section.” She pointed to the back of the library, where a rope separated some books from the rest. “You’ll need a signed note from a teacher to have one of those checked out. The other books you can read here or take out of the library, if you get my permission first. But I warn you, if you tear, fold, smear or damage these books in any way, the consequences will be quite severe.”

She fixed him with a stern look, and Remus smiled shyly.

“I will be very careful, I promise.”

The librarian looked mildly surprised, but Remus wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring in awe at all the knowledge sitting in the room, waiting for him to dig into it. The charm they’d learned that morning had been harder than he’d expected, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out now. Maybe he could find a corner of the library to tuck himself away and practice some more. He could even find out which spells they would be learning, and try to learn them ahead of time to avoid himself more embarrassment. Remus hoped that if he practiced enough, he would be able to understand magic better and struggle less. Smiling to himself, he set off to explore the tall shelves.

[afterhoursfic]

Jaskier/horse please 🐴 Ironically, i don't know much about horses so don't know how realistic this would be but Jaskier starts pleasuring Roach, maybe when he's grooming her for Geralt, he accidentally touches her and she responds well so he does it on purpose after and when Geralt is away, he'll use his mouth on her or as a treat, fuck her. Luckily Geralt is oblivious, if not confused why he smells like horse more but Jaskier loves his new partner who always manages to make him happy

Warning: beastiality

I mean I know nothing about horses either but I hope you like it anyway :D

.

It had started off by accident. As summer dragged on and Geralt had a constant string of contracts it meant that he and Roach were left alone, a lot, most of the time in the woods to save spending coin at an inn, good in the long run but overall boring.

It had meant that Jaskier had to take up more responsibility. Thankfully he was never left to hunt his own food, Geralt would always come back at some point in the evening with some form of food, but his jobs were namely how to start and maintain a fire, to make sure they had shelter for the night, and perhaps most importantly, looking after Roach.

The latter task was probably the hardest of them all, his relationship with Geralt’s horse had been tenuous at most, sure he tried to slip her treats every now and then to gain her favor, but she seemed to remain ever loyal to Geralt, giving him nothing more than a huff as she turned from him. At least it was better than when they first met and she took to nibbling at his fingers when he wasn’t paying attention.

It was one of those nights now though, the wind was still and the night clear, their fire bright and crackling which had just left him the task of removing Roach’s saddle and giving her a quick brush down before letting her graze to her heart’s content.

Tonight though, the horse was…fidgety, constantly moving about and on edge and it wasn’t hard to figure why, even he could hear the sounds of Geralt’s fight in the quiet air. Admittedly he hadn’t listened to what monster it was, nekkers maybe, but occasionally Jaskier could hear the shrill shriek of something inhuman before it was quite literally cut off.

So, could he really be blamed if he weren’t exactly focused on his task, and on one swipe of the brush had the backs of his fingers brush against something soft and wet. Jaskier didn’t even think much of it, just kept idly stroking the soft skin which seemed to calm Roach down and cause her to snort now and then and almost move back into his touch.

It was only when the sounds of the fight died that he finally looked down and saw that he was stroking Roach’s cunt, granted the outside of it, but even in the dying light, he could see the pink folds and the small trail of slick that leaked out of her. Transfixed as he was he traced the shape of her cunt, mesmerized by it until the horse moved and his finger just teased inside of her, that he finally shook his head and pulled away, ignoring the horse stamping her back foot as Jaskier took to doing anything else at that point.

That night he could barely stand to look at Geralt or Roach, but he couldn’t help but think about what happened, of feeling the heat of Roach’s cunt around the tip of his finger and what it might be like to push them in all the way, or even better, his cock.

He shook the thought from his mind and took to playing his lute to distract himself, but just focusing on the way his fingers handled the strings, how they would probably still taste like the horse meant he quickly abandoned that idea and instead retired for an early night with nothing but a grunt from Geralt in response.

Come morning he was still plagued by thoughts of Roach, and it decidedly did not help that he was walking behind her, every now and then she swished her tail, and he caught a glimpse of her cunt again and the thoughts of what if before it was hidden again.

Frankly, he was surprised how long he held out, but two weeks since that first incident and with Geralt away on another hunt meant that Jaskier can’t help but indulge himself. Of course, he brushes her down first, makes sure she’s calm and watered because he definitely doesn’t want to be greeted by an angry Geralt, and then he starts it.

It’s just teasing a couple of fingers at first, similar to that night and when he hears Roach huff and stamp her foot before moving back onto his fingers, he bites his tongue as he pushes the first one in fully.

He can’t help but groan at how wet and open she feels and isn’t even given a chance to fully appreciate it before Roach is fidgeting and pushing back onto him, clearly impatient, and Jaskier can’t exactly refuse her as he pulls out instead to sink three fingers into her.

He earns a deep snort and whinny for his efforts and can’t leave her waiting as he fucks his fingers in and out of her, eyes fixed on his slick fingers fucking her so well she can’t help but let out little huffs before pushing back against him as if asking for more even as she snorts in her pleasure.

A fourth finger is coaxed in as well and Jaskier can feel his hand start to cramp but he knows Roach is close, hell he feels like he’s close himself as he drives his fingers harder into her until she lets out a neigh that he swears could wake the dead. He lets her prance away a little before shaking, but he doesn’t mind because he’s too focussed on watching Roach’s slick slide down his hand, leaning his head forward just for a small taste, before he sucks one finger into his mouth as he tries to undo his trouser laces with his free hand.

All it takes is his slick covered hand to wrap around his cock and the thought of sinking his cock into her to have him coming with a curse, his body shuddering through his orgasm. He almost falls to his knees he’s so weak with it but then Roach nudges at his shoulder and he manages to steel himself enough to tuck himself back in and clean himself before Geralt came back, making sure to thank Roach with an apple before he turned to a more innocent task.

When Geralt does return, his face is already flushed red with guilt and he can practically see Geralt’s nostrils flair and a sharp bolt of panic hits him, he forgot about the witcher’s enhanced senses, about how he probably smelled the whole thing but all he does is look at Roach for a moment. but he says nothing as he sits down.

It eats away at him all night though. He doesn’t expect to get away with it and expects at any moment for Geralt to say something once he found his words but there was nothing. Not even the next morning, or the next evening when they reached the town, when Jaskier had put Roach up in the stable and his fingers still dripped with slick as he stepped into their shared bedroom.

He only gets bolder with each passing day Geralt keeps silent. Even when the witcher is with him at their camp, sharpening his sword or whatever other witcher things he has to do, he’ll be there grooming Roach, her tail up high waiting for his touch as he brushes her coat.

He’ll tease her for a bit until she grunts and stamps her feet a little before he sinks two fingers into her even as Geralt warns him to stop messing around with Roach and to do the damn job. Oh if only he knew the truth of it as he sinks a third, a fourth, and then a fifth finger into her, edging the knuckles of his fist just into her cunt as he tries to hum a random tune to try and cover up the slick squelch of Roach’s cunt with every slide of his fist.

As much as he wants to though he can’t get her off like this, she’s far too noisy and Geralt is literally there so all he can do is angle another couple of thrusts into her dripping cunt whilst kissing the soft skin there until he pulls away entirely.

Sure Roach isn’t exactly happy and will nip at him for a while to try and get something more out of him, sometimes he’ll press a couple of fingers into her as he passes by or gives a quick lick to her cunt, but nothing more than that.

Things quickly escalate when they’re alone until he’ll spend hours whilst Geralt is off on a contract eating out Roach until spit and slick are dripping onto the front of his doublet, and long after that as well. If Geralt ever questions why he’s no longer begging to join him on hunts he doesn’t say anything, just goes off and tells him to look after Roach.

Roach has come to expect and encourage his touch, often turning her ass to him when she wants something, tail lifted and swishing every now and then to lure him in and he’s not proud to admit just how well it works. Even during the day, he’s often having to pet Roach’s flanks with a nervous laugh as Roach keeps trying to back onto him until she gets distracted by something else, most often Geralt whistling after her.

What he wants most though is a chance to fuck her, to properly fuck her. So far he’s had to content himself with hand jobs and humping her back legs as he fingered her or ate her out. It wasn’t bad by any means, he enjoyed doing it and wished they had more time to actually do stuff, but he was aching for a good fuck, and desperate to find out what her cunt would feel like wrapped around his cock for once.

The first problem though was the obvious height difference, given how most nights they camped in some forest clearing it didn’t exactly offer him a good vantage point to be able to sink his cock into her. The second problem was obviously Geralt, who occasionally gave the both of them odd glances during the day but still never said anything.

It’s months after they started this whole thing that he finally gets his chance to fuck her. It’s not pretty or romantic or anything, but it’s enough.

They’re in some far-out town that’s half-deserted, with the people desperate enough to house them whilst Geralt attends to several monster and bandit issues. So Geralt leaves, on foot, to scout out the area, but not before telling him to behave for the few days he’ll be gone, frankly, Jaskier can’t get him out of town fast enough.

The town is too poor to afford horses so the stable is empty apart from Roach and the townspeople are too scared of them, well Geralt, to come looking for him. Sure he’ll perform for them and tell tales of Geralt’s great adventures to try and lift their spirits, after that he might not get much spare time from them so he was going to make this count.

Roach is already waiting for him and greets him with a snort as she paces in her stall eager to get his hands on her, in her, frankly, he didn’t think the horse really cared. He spotted a bench on one side of the stable and all too eagerly tugged Roach towards it whilst trying to fight off her nipping and nudging.

He’s practically drooling when he sinks three fingers into her, and Roach shakes at the touch knowing she’ll be getting something good this time instead of being teased. He’s so desperate he almost tears his pants trying to get his cock out and it twitches when he pulls it out into the cool night air of the stable, but in the next breath, he’s teasing his cock at the edges of Roach’s cunt just to savor the moment a little longer.

He can feel Roach grow restless and he doesn’t want to leave either of them waiting any longer as he pushes his cock slowly into her, so he doesn’t get too overwhelmed, which turned out to be useless because he only got half his cock in before he had to stop so he didn’t come there and then.

It took several long, deep breaths and trying to ignore Roach growing restless under his hands before he pushed the rest of the way in. He didn’t give either of them any time to adjust, he just wanted to fuck her, to feel her cunt tighten around his cock as she got closer to the edge and let himself go to the feeling of it so that he was fucking her so well she couldn’t stop her neighing that surely would alert half the town.

The idea of someone walking in on them, of seeing him bent over her back and fucking desperately into her cunt, the slick slap-slap of their bodies connecting that sounded sinful in the stable sent a jolt of pleasure to his gut, so overwhelmed he could only groan and mumble nonsense through a handful more thrusts until he stilled and came deep into her cunt, grinding up against her as his vision whited out a bit and he milked every rope of come filling her up.

Of course, he didn’t leave her wanting, his cock was still half hard and he fucked her with small aborted thrusts, edging a couple of fingers in alongside his cock before she neighed and rose on her back legs a little, leaving him to chuckle as he pats her sides to try and calm her down.

It was fair to say he didn’t leave the stable that night, or the night after or every night Geralt was gone, eager to take every advantage he could of fucking his girl before he lost his chance for however long, maybe he’d pay a mage for some sort of portable stool? Those were thoughts for another day, right now though he was struggling to stop his breath hitching at the trail of his come leaking out of Roach’s cunt and not even thinking twice before he leaned forward to lick it up and tease his tongue at her folds.

[twilighthiro]

Relic of A Century Ago: 1

"Wake up, Link."

He awoke to the sound of...whatever that was. Moving his sight around, he saw things he linked to words he didn't know; colors, walls, floor.

The knowledge flooded his mind as he moved himself off the place where he'd been.

The sound was a voice, and it was different from his grunts of effort. Colors were how he could see the world, and these particular colors were blue and black.

To the side of the walls was the color orange.

He moved himself forward. His sight was drawn to the other thing in the place; a 'round' 'pedestal' holding a 'rectangle' thing.

Rectangle was a shape. A shape was how an item was. Round was also how something was shaped, but it wasn't a shape.

That was.. different. How was round different from rectangle?

It made sense only if he didn't think hard about it. So he didn't, and found himself in front of the 'pedestal' reaching for the rectangle thing.

"That is a Sheikah Slate. Take it. It will help guide you after your long slumber."

Slumber? He did just open his sight, (or his eyes, like the voice said?) so that's coming from slumber?

He heard more sound; not the voice, not what his feet had made when they'd hit the floor, but a sound he linked to stone, the thing the floor and walls  were made of.

He moved to put the slate somewhere, moving his sight around the pedestal.

Next to the pedestal was a pile. He lifted the pile, seeing that it was many long strips of something not stone or him.

'Leather'.

He untangled the leather, wrapping it around himself with trial and error. He shifted it to the side, where the little shapes not made of stone or leather would rest, and he put the Sheikah Slate on those hooks.

He moved forward, towards where the sound linked to stone had come from; it was different from the walls.

The walls had grown; or maybe, they'd been like that anyway-into a 'hall' with larger shapes that were 'squares' and smaller shapes that were rectangles like the Sheikah Slate, but bigger.

He lowered himself, lifted his hands up to the shape in the middle of the not-large-not-small shape.

The top of the shape lifted, and he blinked in surprise. Reaching into the shape-it was 'hollow', he grabbed something that was new.

Lifting the new thing out of the hollow rectangle, he held it in both hands, pulling it out of the way it had been.

It turned to blue strips, and it went towards the slate by his side. He blinked, now knowing that this was not what items did when he picked them up.

He lifted the Slate, seeing the middle of it turn from back to blue.

There was the new thing in a little box on the slate, and he saw an image similar to it above it. There was a line of images, but only one was a different color.

[Old Shirt:]

[A thin shirt made long ago. It's coming apart at the seams, but it's better than nothing. The sleeves are a bit on the short side.]

He blinked, tapping the image of the Old Shirt.

Blue strips came from the slate an surrounded him for a moment.

He looked down, feeling the shirt. It's strange, but he knows it'll protect him at least a little bit, if the number next to the shirt's box had meant what he thought it did.

He turned towards the other hollow rectangle, lifting the top half like he did before.

Once again, the items were turned to blue strips and appeared next to the shirt.

[Well-Worn Trousers:]

[These old trousers are threadbare in spots, but they're surprisingly comfortable. The legs are a bit too short, though.]

He tapped the trousers. Like the slate had said, they're comfortable.

He lifts himself, moving along and passing the boxes.

The sound of his feet on the floor is different; is that because of the leather 'shoes' that had come with the trousers?

He stopped.

Something was in the corner, beside the wall.

He moved over, lowering himself.

It was small and blue, but not the blue of the walls, pedestal or where he was woken from. A dull blue.

He picked it up, seeing it in more detail; a hollow circle.

Thinking, he reached to touch his hair.

This was something for hair.

He gathered part of it, pulling the top hairs a bit.

Lifting the 'tie' with his other hand, he wrapped it around the hair he'd gathered.

After a bit of finagling, he got it right, with a good amount of hair still loose.

With that done, he moved along the hall, swishing his head from time to time.

He spotted another pedestal, this time orange.

"Hold the Sheikah Slate up to the pedestal. That will show you the way."

He lifted the slate, putting the side of it that had changed color downwards.

Was that fog in his head there before?

The pedestal moved the slate, the wall next to it moving upwards.

He closed his sight as the new thing-light, it was called light-appeared from the wall going into itself, wating a few moments before stepping into the light.

"Link... you are the light-our light-that must shine upon Hyrule once again."

Link? Who was Link? She was talking to him, was he Link?

"Now go."

He-Link, she could be talking to no one else-moved forward.

The stone floor changed. No longer was it smooth, but rough.

Just ahead, the floor was lifted-not the slight movement up or down nor the sharp steps, but a slightly curved taller step. He wouldn't be able to simply move over that.

Right before the high step was something else, and when he touched it he called it water.

He approached the high step. Reaching forward, he grabbed the rough stone, one hand higher than the other.

As if on instinct, his feet followed.

'Climbing' was easy, even as Link felt his stamina drain.

A new color: green was at where the walls and the steps ended.

When the ceiling ended and Link's feet met green, he heard a new sound.

Piano.

A song played as he continued to where the floor ended. First piano, then other sounds like trumpet, drums and another sound like a flute.

When it began to end, he looked to where the floor continued.

Well, no longer the floor. It was the ground now, because there was the green things that rustled under him.

Someone was there. Someone like him. Brown.

That would be his first focus.

[h1ddentrolls]

Technicolor Beat.

Poppy had been planning Branches' birthday party for months now, and the day had finally come. She had made sure everything was perfect, it should all go well. If of course, her present to him didn't ruin their friendship.

(Also posted on my Ao3)

   Nerves  bubbled  up  inside  Poppy  as  she  made  her way  to the  now not-so-hidden  secret  bunker  that  Branch  so  proudly live  in.

   Her eyes glanced down to the small blue box clutched in her hands. She sighed, releasing some pressure in her chest that she hadn’t noticed was there.

  She  honestly wasn’t  sure  where  this  sudden anxiety  came  from.  She  had been  planning  this  for  months  now,  and  all  she  had  felt was  excitement. Branches’  birthday  had  been  fast  approaching and  the  pink  queen  had  made  it  her  goal  to  make  it perfect  for  him.

   After  all,  it had  been  21  years  since  he’d  had  a  real  one.

    Branch  had agreed  to  let  her  plan  something,  on  two  conditions. One:  No surprises. (It’s  not a  surprise  if  you  point  it  out Branch,  duh.)

    And two:  No big  crowds.

    Okay,  Those are  doable,  although  a  little  disappointing.

   Poppy  was  just happy  that  Branch  was  letting  this  happen  at  all.

  She  recalled the  last  time  they  had  tried  to surprise  Branch  with  a party.  Poppy  had  planned  everything perfectly.  At  least  she thought  so.  She  hadn’t  really  considered  the  idea  that perhaps  the  paranoid  hermit  of  her  village  might  have several  (painful)  traps  laid.  Uhg,  the  memory  made  her grimace.

  No  one  had dared  to  try  again,  until  now,  of  course.

    So,  Poppy  had agreed  to  his  terms.  It  would  be  a  small,  scheduled party, with  just  herself and  the  Snack  Pack.  A  quiet  affair to  be  shared  among  friends.  He  had  also  said  that  he really  didn’t  need  any  presents,  but  knowing  the  Snack pack  (and  the  small  box  she  was currently  caressing.)  He  was getting  gifts  whether  he  wanted  them  or  not.

   Branch  had actually  been rather  excited  about  it,  which  at  the  time made  Poppy  bubble  with joy.

    Poppy  smiled, leaves  pleasantly  crunching  under  her  feet  as  she  reached the  entrance  to  the bunker.  Was  she  nervous?  Absolutely.  Was that  gonna  stop  her  from  having  an  amazing  time?  Absolutely NOT

  Poppy  knocked three  times,  on  the  trapdoor  that  was  hidden  as  a  welcome mat.  As  if  Branch  would  ever  welcome  anyone  in  his  bunker. She  tapped  her  foot  impatiently,  fiddling with  the  palm-sized present.

   It  took  a beat  before  the  familiar  sound  of  Branches’ (Surprisingly well-crafted)  elevator  rising  up  from  the  underground  made itself  known.

  The  pink  troll took  a  breath,  trying  her  hardest  not  to  squish  the  small wrapped  box  in  her  hands.  ‘Showtime.’  She  thought. The  trapdoor  slowly  creaked  open,  with  Branches’  dark  mane emerging  from  the  door,  his  brows  raised  as  his  eyes  met hers.

  The  queen couldn’t  help  the  grin  that  spread  across  her  cheeks  in that  moment.

     She  breathed in. “Hey  there’s  my  special  birthday  boy!”  Poppy  yelled, with  admittedly  the stupidest  smile  on  her  face.

     When  Branch rolled  his  eyes,  Poppy’s  rictus  only  grew. “Ready  for  the best  birthday  bash  a former  sour-patch  could  hope  for!?”

    He  scoffed, eyebrows  lowering  with  annoyance,  but  his  smirk  showed  he wasn’t  serious. “There  will  be  no –”  He  brought  two fingers  up  and  flexed  them. “–  ‘Bashing’  in  my bunker.” Branch  snarked.  Poppy  only  hummed.

    He  held  out his  hand  to  her  to  take,  which  she  accepted,  helping  her down  into  the (kinda  cramped)  elevator.

     Poppy  stuck the  present  she  had  (hopefully)  not  crushed  in  her  hands, into  the  pocket  of  her  dress.  The  two  stood  there  in silence,  the  only  sound  being  the  rattle  and  grinding  of the  makeshift  lift  bring  them  deeper  underground.

  It  did  nothing to  settle  the  mysterious  anxiety  swishing  in  her  chest cavity.  She  opted  to  examine  the  birthday  boy  while  she waited.

   He  looked good,  really  good,  she  admitted.  He  was  sporting  a  dark green  button  up  folded  up  to  his  elbows,  under  a  black vest,  tied  together  with  a  pair  of  fashionable  black  dress trousers.  Rather  handsome,  and  put  together  for  him.

           ‘Must be  Satin  and  Chenille.’  Was  a  thought  that  crossed  her   mind,  but  something  in her  wondered  if  Branch  just  secretly had  a  good  sense  of  style.

       She’d have  to  raid  his  closet  sometime,  just  to  be  sure.  After all,  half  the  time  he  walked  around  in  a  vest  and  shorts.

    Branch  stared at  his  knuckles,  rested  on  the  contraption’s  handle. “Everyone  else  is  already here.”  He  rolled  his  eyes,  as if  something  in  his  mind’s-eye  was  already  stressing  him out.

      “You  don’t know  how  hard  it  is  to  keep  those  guys  from  touching every  damn  thing  in  there.”  He  grimaced.

  Poppy  giggled, picturing  Branches’  utter  panic  while  the  Snack  Pack  ran amok  in  his  precious  underground  fort.  “Sorry,  they’re charismatic!  I  can’t  change  that.”

    Branch  let out  a  laugh  that  sounded  more  like  a  bark.  “No,  you’re charismatic.”  He  waved  his  hands.   “They’re crazy.”  He  crossed  his  arms.

       “They tried  to  hang  up  my  bear  traps  as  decoration.  Said  they’re ‘Pretty’”  The  blue  troll  shook  his  head,  utterly unable  to  understand  his  friends  sometimes.

   The  girl shrugged  at  him,  somewhat  apologetic,  but  not  really.  She poked  his  arm.  “You  at  least  let  them  decorate  a  little, right?”  She  stared  expectantly.

 His  ear twitched,  as  it  often  did,  and  his  lips  puffing  into  a pout.  “A  little,  but  it’ll  take  forever  to  clean  up anyway.”  He  complained.

   Poppy  waved her  hands  back  and  forth.  “Nonsense,  we’ll  help  you!”

  Branch  eyed  her for  a  moment,  then  grinned.  The  cute,  kinda  crooked  one that  she  really,  really  liked.

   She  did  her best  to  ignore  the  unexplainable  warmth  in  her  cheeks  and butterflies  that  appeared  whenever  he  smiled  like  that.

    Branch continued.  “Anyway,  I  guess  it  looks  nice.”

   Poppy  raised both  her  hands,  peace  signs  framing  her  face.  “Oh  of course  it  does!  Only  the best  from  my  pack.”  Branch grunted  in  response,  a  contented  smile  drawn  on  his  face.

   As  they finally  reached  the  ground  floor,  Poppy  was  greeted  with  the familiar  scent  of  the  bunker.

     Moist  earth, various  dried  herbs,  and  something  else  that  Poppy  couldn’t quite  place.  She  just  called  it  the  ‘Branch  Smell’ since  he  seemed  to  carry  a  similar  scent.

     The  new smell  of  very  sugary  fruit  punch,  and  lots  of  pastries,  was also  present.  Poppy  couldn’t  decide  if  all  of  the  various smells  married  together  was  pleasant,  or  really,  really gross.

   She  was  happy to  see  that  Branch  was  correct.  The  shelves  that  usually just  held  supplies  and  preserved  food  were  now  colorful  with frilly  steamers  and  decorative  lights.

  When  Poppy  took a  few  steps  onto  the  cold  ground,  she  realized  the  floor was  dusted  with  glitter.  Guy  diamond,  no  doubt.

  Two  tables  were set  up  in  the  middle  of  the  main  room,  one  with  food (And  a  cake  that  looked  almost  too  good.)  and  another  with several  assorted  drinks  and  a  big  bowl  of  fruit  punch.  

    Upon  further inspection,  there  was  also  a  small  table  against  the  wall to  the  left,  with  presents  of  all  shapes  and  sizes.

   The  queen  was charmed  at  the  big  banner  hung  up  above,  with  the  words   “Happy  birthday,  Branch!”  beautifully  painted  on  it. Harper  had  done  an  amazing  job.

  On  the  end  of each  table  stood  half  of  the  Snack  Pack,  all  grinning ear-to-ear.  Upon  spotting  her,  a  chorus  of  “Poppy!!” came  from  them.  Poppy  winked.

  “Amazing  job guys,  as  always!!”  She  trotted  closer  to  the  group,  eyes still  admiring  her friend’s  handiwork.  Branch  followed  her, following  her  gaze.  He  seemed  impressed,  despite  clearly  not being  thrilled  about  the  cleanup.

   Biggie  smiled, meeting  her  and  giving  her  the  warmest  (and  tightest)  hug. “The  streamers  were  my  idea!”  He  announced.  Poppy grinned.

   “Excellent touch  Bigs!”  She  said,  slightly  winded  from  the  gravity  of the  embrace.

   Somehow  Guy had  appeared  and  slid  his  arm  over  Poppy’s  shoulders, directing  her  gaze  to  the  ground  with  his  hand. “I glittered  the  place  up,  obviously.”

   The  queen nodded. “Obviously!”

    It  seemed  to be  time  for  every  member  of  the  Pack  to  share  what  part of  the  party  had  been  their  personal  idea.  Poppy  giggled, they  were  as  excited  as  she  was.

  She  managed  to get  away  from  them  for  a  moment  to  wander  over  to  the present  table.  The  box  was  light  in  her  hands  when  she slid  it  out  of  her  pocket.

  The  girl  stared at  the  small  gift.  Blue  wrapping,  with  a  simple  pink  bow taped  on  top.  It  was  probably  the  least  flamboyant  gift  she would  ever  give.  Still,  this  gift  might  have  the  most meaning.

  Poppy  huffed, placing  it  back  into  her  pocket.  She  wasn’t  ready  to  part with  it  yet.

   The  queen turned,  trotting  back  up  to  the  group,  who  were  now absolutely  flooding  Branch  with  attention.  He  was  smiling, but  something  about  his  stance  screamed   ‘I  love  you guys,  but  you’re  totally  crowding  me.’

   Poppy  hummed, getting  everyone’s  attention.  She  did  a  rather  elegant (and dramatic)  spin,  landing  perfectly  with  her  arms  raised.  “Well ladies  and  birthday  boys,  the  party  can  finally  begin!”

  The  Snack Packed  cheered,  Suki  and  Cooper  doing  a  goofy  dance  around each  other.  Branch  crossed  his  arms,  clearly  a  little excited,  and  possibly  very  relieved  that  all  of  the attention  was  no  longer  on  him.

   Biggie  nodded, grabbing  a  remote  out  of  what  seemed  to  be  nowhere.  At  a press  of  a  button,  the  very  pink  stereo  that  rested  on  the edge  of  the  food  table  began  blasting  music.  Everyone quickly  fell  into  place,  finding  their  respective  dance partners  and  moving  to  the  beat.

  Poppy  swayed, in  rhythm  with  the  music,  humming  as  she  let  her  body  take control.  She  hardly  noticed  when  Satin  and  Chenille  had started  dancing  in  step  with  her,  not  until  they  spoke.

    “Hey  girlie!” They  said  in  unison.  The  two  were  wearing  matching  outfits (as  usual.),  a  crop-top  and  Bootcut  jeans.  Well,  they  were almost  matching,  the  colors  were  reversed  between  the  two  of them.  It  was  very  stylish.

  Poppy  would always  be  a  little  jealous  at  how  they  could  pull  off anything.  They  looked  good.  “Hi  ladies,  you  look  soo pretty!”  Poppy  spun  to  emphasize  her  point.

  The  twins snickered.  “We  know!”  Satin  replied,  Chenille  continued. “We  came  over  to  tell  you  how  pretty  you  look!” They  both  took  her  by  her  hands  and  spun  her.  Poppy giggled.

    “That  dress looks  so  much  better  then  what  we  hoped!”  Satin  finished.

    Poppy  paused, processing,  and  almost  falling  off  beat.  She  had  almost forgotten  that  she  was  wearing  the  dress  that  Satin  and Chenille  had  specially  designed   for  her.

   The  girl  had many  dresses  that  the  twins  had  made,  but  they  had  insisted she  wear  this  new  one  to  the  party.

   Poppy  let  go of  the  twin’s  hands  to  do  a  cute  curtsy,  holding  the dresses’  skirt  delicately.  “I  know!  I  love  it,  you  two are  so  talented!”  She  complimented.

  Satin  and Chenille  shared  a  look.  “You  know,  I’m  pretty  sure  it’s pretty  enough  to  impress  a  certain  someone.”  Satin hinted.   The  twins  shared  a  knowing  smirk.

  “I  think  he’s already  noticed.”  Chenille  finished  in  a  sing-song  voice, the  twin’s  eyes  now  settled  on  a  rather  awkward  looking Branch,  their  grins  growing  ever  wider.

  Poppy  turned  to share  their  gaze.  Branch  was  rocking  back  and   forth  to the  music,  not  quite  dancing  like  they  were,  but  he  was perfectly  on  beat.

      He  was  also not-so-subtly  staring  at  her.

   Poppy  was  a little  uncertain  as  to  why  she  felt  her  stomach  tie  itself in  knots  under  his  gaze.  The  queen’s  eyes  returned  to  the two  girls  before  her.  “Well  I  mean…  it’s  a  nice dress!”  She  managed  a  grimace.

    The  sisters looked  to  each  other,  shaking  their  heads,  disappointed. “She’s  not  getting  it.” They  said  in  unison.  The  two nodded  in  some  silent  agreement,  both  linking  their  arms around  hers  on  either  side.

   Poppy  looked between  the  two  of  them  helplessly.  “Uh…  What’s happening  here  ladies?  What  am  I  not  getting?”

  The  two  were almost  dragging  her  across  the  dirt  floor  now.  “I  wonder how  long  you’re  gonna  be  clueless.”  Chenille  wondered,  a sort  of  sad  smile  present  on  her  face.

  Poppy’s  ears wiggled  as  she  struggled  to  decipher  what  her  twin  friends were  being  so  vague  about,  and  keep  herself  from  tripping on  the  floor.  She  hardly  had  any  time  to  ponder,  they  had already  dragged  her  over  to  Branch,  who  for  some  reason  was blushing  ear-to-ear.

   The  sisters unlinked  their  arms  from  hers,  then  pushed  her  forward. Poppy  propelled  forward  and  almost  tripped.  Luckily  (or unluckily)  Branch  caught  her  before  she  fell  face-first  into the  dirt.

   The  twins snickered,  already  dancing  away.  “Happy  birthday  Branch!” They  said  together.

  Branch stuttered,  steam  practically  rolling  off  him  now.

  Poppy  blinked, realizing  she  was  still  hanging  in  Branches’  arms,  pressed against  his  chest.  They  stared  at  one  another  for  a  beat.

   “Uhh… “ Was  all  Branch  was  capable  of  saying.

   Poppy  was finally  able  to  find  her  footing,  jumping  to  her   feet  with little  grace.  Another  awkward  silence  found  it’s  way between  them.  That  was  happening  a  lot  lately.  Which  was weird,  since  Poppy   usually  had  no  problem  talking.

   Branch  cleared his  throat,  seemingly  having  found  his  voice  again.  “Well… This  is  weird.”  His  ears  wiggled  a  little.  Heh…  Cute. “I  guess…  Wanna  dance?”

  Poppy  nodded aggressively,  desperate  to  end  this  strange  tension  between them  now.

  The  song  had changed  to  something  a  little  slower  now,  which  Poppy couldn’t  help  but  feel  like  was  fate.  Branch  gently  took her  right  hand,  placing  his  other  hand  on  her  waste.

  Oddly  enough, the  contact  sent  something  that  could  only  be  described  as electric  jolting  through  her.  That  was  weird,  that  didn’t normally  happen.

  They  started  a slow  waltz,  Poppy  was  used  to  a  quicker  tempo,  but  she found  something  oddly  calming  about  the  simple  dance.

   It  helped  that Branch  was  actually  good  at  leading.  Why  had  he  waited until  they  were  about  to  die  to  show  off  how  good he  was  at  being  a  troll?  She  was  a  little  bitter,  Poppy had  missed  20  years  of  dancing  with  Branch.  

       She’d  have to  make  up  for  those  20  years.

“Hey,”  Branch broke  the  silence,  stirring  the  girl  out  of  her  reverie. She  met  his  eyes.  What  a  piercing  blue.  “Uh…  You  look really  nice.”   He  huffed.  “Pretty,  you  look pretty.”  He  blurted,  twirling  the  queen  around  so  she wouldn’t  see  how  utterly  purple  his  face  had  gone.

   Poppy  finished the  spin  gracefully,  smiling  at  him  as  they  fell  back  into step  easily.  “Thanks  Branchie!”  She  leaned  forward  just  a bit,  which  seemed  to  startle  Branch  since  his  eyes  widened. “You  look  handsome!  I  knew  deep  down  you  had style.”

  Branch  rolled his  eyes,  her  compliment  breaking  him  out  of  his  awkward stupor.  “I’m  full  of  surprises.”  He  smirked  at   her. Poppy  was  utterly  baffled  at  the  heat  she  felt  rush  to  her cheeks,  maybe  she  was  getting  sick.

   A  deep  breath helped  cool  her  down,  thankfully.  She  would  not  be  getting sick  tonight,  anytime  but  tonight.

    “You’re having  fun,  right?”  Poppy  questioned,  Branch  raised  a  brow quizzically.  “I  know  it’s  only  been  like  ten  minutes  but I  just…  I  want  it  to  be  perfect  for  you,  yknow?  Don’t wanna  give  you  a  bad  first  impression  of  birthday  parties… Or  is  it  a  second  impression?  I  know,  but-- “

   Branch interrupted.  “Poppy,  I’m  having  a  great  time  with  y--” He  choked  on  his  words.  “Having  a  great  time.”  Having gained  an  odd  sense  of  bravery,  Branch  leaned  closer  to her.  “Just  dance  with  me.”

   Like  some  sort of  magnet,  Poppy  drew  closer,  too.  Drawn  to  his  very essence.  Why  this  was,  Poppy  was  still  clueless.  She  simply nodded.  “Yeah,  ok…”  Poppy  conceded.  She  let  her  eyes slide  closed,  letting  the  music  wrap  itself  around  her  and take  hold.

  Jump  into  the heat,

 spinning on  our  feet

 in  a technicolor  beat,

 you and  me

 Caught  up in a  dream,

 in a  technicolor  beat,

 Beat,  beat.

  And  the  song was  over,  just  like  that.  Poppy  had  let  a  haze  wash  over her,  not  noticing  sh e had  let  her  forehead  rest  on Branches’  chest  as  they  danced,  utterly  entranced  by  the music.

   And  her  dance partner.

   Branch  sighed, helping  Poppy  to  shake  the  mist  from  her  mind.  She  was going  to  let  herself   stay  there  for  just  a  moment  longer, then  Branch  pulled  away.  He  didn’t  meet  her  eyes,  but  he had  a  pleasant  smile  on  his  face.

   “Uh…  Thanks for  the  dance.”  Branch  laughed,  which  felt  like  fireworks in  Poppy’s  chest.  It  was  so  cute.  “I  forget  that  you actually  know  how  to  slow  dance.”

   Poppy  scoffed. “You’ve  danced  with  me  before  Branch,  you  know  that  when the  time  calls  for  it,  I’m  an  excellent  slow dancer!”  The  queen  bragged.

   Branch shrugged.  “Well,  it’s  a  good  birthday  present.”  He smiled  at  her,  so  sincere  it  took  everything  in  Poppy  not to  smother  him  in  the  tightest  hug.  She  found  herself yearning  for  the  contact.

   The  boy’s ears  twitched  when  a  new  song  began,  much  more  upbeat  than the  previous  one.  Crushing  Poppy’s  surprising  urge  to  dance again.

   Poppy  forced  a grin,  letting  a  breath  escape  her  mouth.  “Well  then… Happy  birthday!”  She  did  a  curtsy  and  quickly  made  her retreat  to  the  punch  table.  It  was  a  rather  curt  way  to leave  the  birthday  boy,  but  Poppy  found  herself  desperately needing  a  drink.

   She  glugged down  an  entire  cupful  of  the  pink  liquid  before  she  saw Guy  gawking  at  her.  She  slammed  the  cup  onto  the  table  and leaned  against  it.  “What?”  

   Guy  scoffed, crossing  his  arms,  looking  between  her  and   Branch  who  was now  dancing  with  a  very  enthusiastic  Suki.  “What?  What  do you  mean  ‘what’?”  He  took  her  by  shoulders.  

   “Poppy,  what was  that?  You  had  him  in  your  arms!”  Guy  shook  her  a little,  enough  that  she  almost  lost  her  balance.

   “Yeah  I know!”  Poppy  smiled  sweetly,  oblivious.  “We  danced!  He’s pretty  good,  I  mean  the  last  time  I  danced  with  him  was when  we  were  almost  eaten  by  Bergens!  So  I  didn’t  really get  the  chance  to  like  actually  enjoy  it –”  Guy shook  her  a  little  harder.

  “No  no  no Poppy!”  He  let  her  go,  slumping  a  little.  “That  was your  chance,  to  make  your  move!”  

   Poppy  raised her  brows,  confused.  “Why  are  so  many  people   talking  to me  like  that  today?”  She  crossed  her  arms,  squinting.  “Is there  something  I’m  supposed  to  know  that  you  guys  do?”

   Her  glittery friend  slumped  against  the  table,  shaking  his  head  in disappointment.  “Oh  Poppy,  how  are  any  of  us  supposed  to find  closure  when  you,”  He  gestured  wildly  around  the  pink troll.  “Don’t  even  know  your  own  feelings!”

   The  queen  was getting  a  little  annoyed  at  the  running  trend  of  her  being the  only  one  in  the  room  who  didn’t  know  what  was  going on.  Her  frown  was  drawn  long  on  her  face.  “I  am  very  in tune  with  my  feelings,  thank  you  very  much!”

   Guy  scoffed. He  stared  at  her  for  what  felt  like  the  longest  minute  of Poppy’s  life,  then  let  out  a  strangled  breath.  “You’ll get  it  eventually  Poppy,  and  it  will  be   as glamorous  as ever!”  

    He  pat  her  on the  shoulder,  as  if  that  would  help  her  finally  understand. The  troll  stole  the  last  swig  of  Poppy’s  punch  and  danced away,  his  swagger  almost  nullifying  the  anger  Poppy  felt  at his  betrayal.

   Poppy  frowned into  the  punch  bowl,  not  pleased  to  see  the  upset  wrinkles in  her  face,  but  doing  nothing  to  remedy  them  for  the moment.  Her  friends  obviously  had  some  divine  revelation about  her t hat  she  hadn’t  figured  out.

   Which  sort  of made  her  angry.  This  wasn’t  even  her  day!  If  anyone should  be  getting  weird  and  vague  messages,  it  should  be Branch!

   Resolving   to fix  this  obvious  shift  in  attention,  Poppy  cleared  her throat  loud  enough  to  get  everyone’s  attention.  Biggie  made a  dash  for  the  stereo,  almost  shoving  it  off  the  table when  he  aggressively  turned  it  off.

   Poppy  gave him a  satisfied  nod,  seeing  everyone’s  eyes  now  on  her.  “Okay guys!  Executive  decision!  It’s  time  for  cake,”  Her signature  grin  growing  ever  wider  as  she  continued.  “And then  my  favorite  part,  presents!”  She  finished

   The  box  still resting  in  her  dresses’  pocket  got  a  little  heavier.  A tightness  formed  in  Poppy’s  chest.  Her  present  was  risky, and  could  easily  backfire  on  her,  she  knew  that.  She  knew that  Branch  didn’t  really  want  any  presents,  but  this  one, she  felt,  would  have  meaning  to  him.  Whether  it  was  good or  bad  meaning  was  yet  to  be  seen.

   The  anxiety the  had  been  fighting  with  ever  since  she  arrived  was quickly  rushing  to t he  forefront  of  her  mind.  It  formed into  a  twisting  ball  In  her  chest  that  left  her  feeling  a little  nauseated.

-------

      Cake  had  been relatively  painless,  much  to  Poppy’s  relief.  It  was delicious,  obviously,  she  had  commissioned  it  herself,  paying a  little  extra  just  to  be  perfectly  sure  it  was  the  best cake  any  of  them  had  ever  eaten.  

   Branch  had been  moved  by t hem  singing  the  birthday  song  for  him.  Much more  than  the  queen  had  expected.  The  sweet  smile  he  had given  them  once  they’d  finished  had  brought  a  flush  to her  face.  A  smile  that  came  from  finally  allowing  himself to  celebrate  his  own  birth  after  so,  so  long.

   He  deserved  a cake  that  was  so  delicious  it  melted  in  your  mouth.  Poppy mused.

   But  now  it was  at  last  time  to  pile  altogether  too  many  gifts  onto Branch,  and  Poppy  still  hadn’t  taken  the  small  wrapped  box out  of  her  dress  pocket.  Poppy  had  to  give  her  friends some  credit,  they  had  actually  managed  to  get  Branch  small gifts,  rather  than  something  big  and  flamboyant  that  he absolutely  would  never  use.

   Cooper  had given  Branch  a  nice  set  of  blue  baking  trays,  Poppy  was almost  jealous.  Poppy wondered  if  Branch  even  knew  how  to bake.  Knowing  him,  he  probably  had  some  secret  magic cookbook  that  had  the  secret  to  make  delicious  strawberry muffins  with  nothing  but  eggs  and  some  grass.

   Secret  cook  or not,  Branch  had  appreciated  the  gift.

   The  twins Satin  and  Chenille  had  gone  the  extra  mile  and  made  him what  had  to  be  the  nicest  handmade  blazer  Poppy  had  ever seen.   It  was  rust  colored,  with  a  bronze  shine  to  it, sleeves  (sparingly)  embroidered  with  blue  flowers.

Definitely  not the  most  colorful  thing  the  sisters  had  made,  but  picturing it  on  the  birthday  boy  had  still  made  her  blush,  for  some reason.

   Guy  had  bought Branch  a  hand  mirror.  It  was  a  gift  that  was,  well,  so very  Guy.  It  had  been  bejeweled  to  death,  but  still oddly  had  it’s  charm.  Poppy  could  tell  that  Branch  wasn’t too  impressed  with  that  one,  but  had  put  on  a  nice  face, accepting  it  gracefully.

   Biggie  and Suki  had  actually  worked  together  on  their  gift.  It  was  a very  sweet  present.  Biggie  had  actually  found  a  picture  of all  of  them  together,  and  made  his  own  frame  for  it.  Suki had  then  added  some  sort  of  soundbox,  that  played  a  song when  turned  on.

   Poppy  could tell  Branches’  heart  had swelled  with  appreciation  In  that moment.  He  pressed  the  button  once  more.

      Do you  remember

  The  21st  night  of  September?

  Love  was  changing  the  minds  of  pretenders

     While chasing  the  clouds  away

     Our hearts  were  ringing

   In the  key  that  our  souls  were  singing

   As we  danced  in  the  night,  remember

  How  the  stars  stole  the  night  away

   Ba de  ya,  say,  do  you  remember

  Ba  de  ya,  dancing  in  September?

  Ba  de  ya,  never  was  a  cloudy  day.

     Poppy  would make  sure  she  would  never  forget  the  face  Branch  had  In that  moment.  Something  in  her  had  screamed  at  her  to  just rush  up  to  him  and…  And  do  something,  whatever  it was  she  didn’t  know,  but  whatever  it  was,  she  had suppressed  it.

   The  pink  troll didn’t  know  if  she’d  ever  seen  Branch  so…  So contented.  What  she  would  give  to  make  Branch  this  happy all  the  time.

   All  the  eyes were  once  again  on  her  now,  it  was  her  turn  to  give Branch  his  gift.  Poppy  forced  a  grimace,  the  time  had finally  come  and  she  wasn’t  prepared  at  all.  “Right! Saving  the  best  for  last  huh?”  She  did  her  best  to remember  how  to  breath  like  a  normal  person  as  she  reached for  her  pocket.  Then  she  stopped.

  This…  This wasn’t  right.  She  looked  around  at  all  of  her  friends, and  sighed.  “Actually,  I…”  Her  eyes  focused  on  the dirt  floor.  “I  don’t  think  I  can  give  you  this  gift with,”  She  looked  up,  gesturing  to  the  Snack  pack.  “With all  of  you  here.”

  Branch  raised his  eyebrows,  caught  a  little  off  guard.  “Wh…  Well…” Poppy  didn’t  miss  the  look  that  the  Snack  pack  all shared.  To  her  relief  they  didn’t  seem  offended,  instead all  shared  some  sort  of  knowing  smirk.

    Branch  cleared his  throat.  “Well  ok,  I  guess  we  can  go  up  for  a second.”  He  pointed  to  the  ceiling,  meaning  she  could  give him  his  gift  on  the  surface.  He  looked  to  his  friends. “Is…  Is  that  ok  with  you  guys?”

   The  Pack  was quick  to  answer  with  vigorous  nods  and  ‘Oh  totally!’. Poppy  thought  that  they  might  be  a  little  too  okay  with Poppy  asking  for  alone  time.

   With  that,  the two  trolls  got  up  and  shuffled  awkwardly  to  the  elevator. As  Branch  pulled  the  lever,  and  they  began  ascending  into the  now  moonlight  covered  surface,  Poppy  realized  that  this lift  must  have  gotten  smaller  since  she  was  last  in  it.

   Just  sharing the  same  air  with  Branch  made  her  heart  beat  at  a  rate that  was  possibly  unhealthy.  Her  hand  firmly  gripped  the gift  that  still  rested  in  her  pocket,  possibly  ruining  the wrapping,  but  she  couldn’t  be  bothered  with  it  now.

   Their  trip  in the  lift  was  way  too  short  for  Poppy’s  liking,  already they  had  reached  ground  level  and  Branch  was  opening  the trapdoor,  leading  to  the  world  above.  He  climbed  out  first, being  perfectly  gentlemanly  and  helping  her  out  next.

   They  stood there  for  what  must  have  been  a  few  minutes,  caught  in some  sort  of  staring   contest.  Branches’  expression  filled with  anticipation  and  confusion,  clear  even  under  the darkness  of  night.  Huh,  Poppy  had  never  noticed  that  Branch almost  glowed  under  the  moonlight,  his  blue  eyes  somehow glistening  in  the  night.

   Eventually Branches’  face  shifted  to  slight  annoyance,  which  helped Poppy  realize  that  she  had  been  staring  at  him  for  5 minutes  now  and  had  said  absolutely  nothing. The  queen  almost laughed,  this  was  probably  the  only  time  Branch  would  ever be  annoyed  that  she  wasn’t  talking.

   She  inhaled, forcing  herself  to  get  her  nerves.  “So…  This  is  your first  birthday  party  In  a  long  time,  huh?”  She  started.

   Branch  raised a  brow,  not  sure  where  she  was  going.  “Yeah,  I  guess  it is.”  He  scratched  the  back  of  his  neck.  “Haven’t  had one  since…”  Branch  wilted  a  little.  “You  know.”

Poppy  nodded, smiling  at  him  sweetly.   She  continued.  “Yeah,  so  y’know, I  wanted  it  to  be  perfect.  To  be… “  She  glanced  at her  pocket.  “To  be  special.”

   The  troll followed  her  gaze,  seemingly  understanding  what  she  meant. “It  has  been  special  Pops,  the  best  birthday  I’ve probably  ever  had.”  He  reassured.

   The  queen snorted,  pausing  her  speech. “Okay  yeah obviously  but it’s  not  like  you’ve  had  that  many.  I  mean--”

 “Don’t  ruin your  sappy  speech  now  Poppy.”  Branch  interrupted,  his  lips turned  up  in  an  amused  smirk.   Poppy’s  cheeks  went  red.

   “Right, sorry.”  Poppy  apologized.  She  huffed,  finally  pulling  the blue  gift  out  of  her  pocket,  maybe  with  a  little  more force  than  necessary.  Branch  stared  at  the  present  currently clenched  in  her  palms.  

    “So  I wanted  my  gift  to  you  to  be  special,  something  that  I think  only  I  could  give  you.”  She  grit  her  teeth,  holding it  out  to  him.  With  some  hesitation  he  took  it.  “Don’t open  it  yet,  I  just…”    

   Branch  let  out a  little  laugh,  which  knocked  the  wind  out  of  her.  “I’ll love  whatever  you  give  me,  Poppy.”

   Poppy  almost melted,  but  forced  herself  to  continue.  “It’s  just… We’ve  known  each  other  for  like,  ever,  but  we’ve  been like  personal  friends  for  almost  a  year  now  and…”  She bit  her  lip,  words getting  stuck  in  her  throat.  Seeing  how the  light  of  the  moon  made  his  eyes  shimmer,  Poppy  found the  courage  to  continue.

   “You’ve  had your  colors  for  a  year  and  I  just  thought…  I  mean you’ve  been  amazing  Branch…  Really  amazing.” Branches’  entire  face  turned  a  shade  of  purple.

   “And  you’ve made  me  really  happy,  happier  than  what  I  thought possible.”  She  smiled,  pointing  a  shy  finger  to  the present  that  Branch  was  holding  delicately.  “And  I  wanna share  that  happiness  with  you.”  She  finished,  then  nodded, a  signal  that  told  Branch  it  was  ok  to  open  the  box.  

   He  lifted  the lid  carefully,  a  mixture  of  anticipation  and  anxiety  making Poppy  almost  puke.  Branch  let  out  a  soft  breath  once  he saw  the  boxes’  contents.

      It  was  a  dark green,  seemingly  handmade,  hugtime  bracelet.  He  stared  at  it, frozen  in  awe  for  a  little  too  long  for  Poppy’s  taste. Finally  Branch  looked  to  her.  “Pop--”

  “You  don’t have  to  wear  it  if  you  don’t  want  to.”  Poppy  quickly interrupted.  “They’re  not  hard  to  make  so  if  you  don’t want  it…  It  won’t  hurt  my  feelings  it’ll  be  totally fine.” The  corners  of  Branches’  mouth  slowly  turned  up, watching  Poppy  quickly  get  carried  away.

   “I  just wanted  to  give  you  something  close  to  my  heart,  and  I think  you’re  ready  but  like  if  you’re  not  then--” Branch  placed  a  finger  over  Poppy’s  mouth,  effectively shutting  her  up.

   He  took  it away,  taking  a  breath  as  he  continued  to  examine  the bracelet.  Poppy  was  comforted  by  the  pleasant  smile  resting on  his  face.  “This  is  perfect,  Poppy.”  Branch  looked  to her.   “The  perfect  party,   the  perfect  dance,  and  the perfect  gift,  what  about  you  isn’t  perfect?”

  Poppy  crossed her  arms.  “I’m  pretty  sure  if  I  actually  let  you  answer  that  question  you’d  find  a  lot.”

  Branch  shook his  head,  taking  a  small  step  closer.  “Not  right  now.” He  took  the  bracelet  out  of  the  box,  tossing  the  box   away carelessly.  He  handed  the  bracelet  to  her,  holding  out  his wrist.  “Let’s  not  have  another  birthday  without  hugtime.”

  Poppy  stood there,  paralyzed  for  a  moment.  His  eyes  so  brilliantly  blue, rocking  her  to  her  very  core.  The  utter  relief  that  he   too  believed   he   was  ready  for  this  making  Poppy  feel  like she  might  be  able  to  fly.  Carefully,  Poppy  took  his  hand, sliding  the  green  band  onto  his  wrist.

   The  queen smiled,  holding  his  hand  with  both  of   hers  now,  just staring  at  the  bracelet  now  anointing  his  wrist.  She  looked up  to  him,  they  were  so  close  now  that  she  had  to  crane her  neck  to  meet  his eyes.  

       Branches’ smile  widened,  sending  jitters  up  and  down  her  spine.  He pulled  his  hand  from  hers,  moving  to  wrap  his  arms  gently around  her.  Poppy  quickly  returned  the  embrace,  relishing  in his  warmth.

  That  was  it, Poppy  was  convinced.  She   didn’t  need  to  give  Branch  a crowd,  or  huge  presents  to  make  the  perfect  birthday  party. She--  Uh,  He  just  needed  this…  Whatever  this, was.  They  stood  there  for  probably  too  long,  but  made  no move  to  let  go.

   Poppy  sighed, breaking  the  silence.  “Happy  birthday,  Branch.”

   Branch chuckled.  “It  is,  isn’t  it?”

[sandpumpkin]

Happy Birthday Croco-chan

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧Happy Birthday to my dearest Sand husband.

Little bit of SandPumpkin to celebrate (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ going to spoil my gator.

@one-piece-dumpster-fire​

Hana was very excited, she had the date on her calendar since she had coerced the delicate information out of Bon-chan. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” Rapunzel asked, handing her another plate to dry.

“Well it’s Croco-chan’s birthday tomorrow!” she replied happily, “I can’t wait to- what’s wrong?” she noticed Rapunzel’s pale face.

“You didn’t know but Boss doesn’t celebrate it.. He’s not really the birthday cheer kinda guy..” Rapunzel explained, but watching her shoulders slump made him feel pretty bad “Well..I mean we can sort something..little out..” he suggested. Bentham had overheard and was equally excited.

“Oh come on Rapi..you can’t have a small party for Zero-chan..it has to be lavish.” Bon whined, spinning around in the dining room. 

“How exactly are you going to distract Boss long enough for us to decorate the place and bake him a cake?” Rapunzel asked, setting his hands on his hips. Hana grinned and tapped her chest proudly. 

“Leave that to me...or Chompy..” Hana turned but then handed Rapunzel a carefully folded piece of paper “I can’t bake..I was thinking of a crocodile cake..too much?” 

Rapunzel laughed loudly looking over the poorly drawn crocodile “Why not. If we’re going all in. I’ll make the most spectacular goddamn crocodile cake ever.” Rapunzel chuckled. How can a party be lavish with a crocodile themed cake?

Hana cheered happily and hurried back to her room, to wrap the rest of Crocodile’s gifts. She couldn’t wait. She loved celebrating her loved ones birthdays. They couldn’t get angry at her for buying the gifts. And she had been hanging onto his gifts for a while now.

-

The next morning everyone was up early. Hana told Crocodile she was working on a new dress the night before and would sleep in her room. She procured Crocodile’s breakfast and morning coffee from Rapunzel and eased Chomp awake who was unhappy at being woken up so early. “Morning my little Chomp. Can you help me?” she asked, the bananawani stretched and rubbed itself against Hana’s legs, like a scaly little cat. “Okay Captain Chomp. Your mission is super important. Today is Croco-chan’s birthday. We need you to distract Croco-chan until we come and get you okay? Just means you get to spend lots of time with papa.” she explained seriously to the small gator.

Elon leant closer to Bentham “does that thing actually understand?” he asked quietly, he watched the small bananawani plod behind Hana and clambered up the stairs to Crocodile’s cabin. “If she pulls this off I’ll be amazed.” Elon mumbled as she entered his cabin. 

-

Crocodile had woken up in a terrible mood. He had become so accustomed to having Hana sleep beside him that it was difficult to sleep without her nearby. She always held his hand or trailed little patterns on his left arm, holding it against her as if protecting what was left of his arm. He found it endearing and slept far better than he ever had. He already slumped at his desk when he heard the knock at the door.

“What!” he barked on instinct.

“Good morning Croco-chan.” Hana’s bright voice came, followed by the patter of little claws.

 I shouted at her again.. She set his breakfast and coffee on his desk, followed by the morning paper. Resting a hand on his arm, she leant to kiss his cheek, nuzzling his face affectionately. 

“I hope you won’t be making a habit of sleeping elsewhere.” he stated, glancing up at her. Hana blushed and smiled softly at him, slipping her arms around his neck. 

“I’m sorry. I won’t..” peppering little kisses across his jaw “I slept terribly.” she added with a little sigh, “I got so used to having you near. I just couldn’t get comfortable or warm enough.”

“Then you should have come back.” he huffed, 

“I know..but it was so late..” Crocodile shot her a look, “I know...but..anyway..” she kissed his cheek again. “I’ll let you eat your breakfast in peace.” Crocodile let the smallest of smiles tug at his lips, he did enjoy hearing how much she missed him and how she doted on him. “I’ll come back for the dishes soon.” she added and hurried out of his cabin. Crocodile sank into his chair reaching for his coffee when he felt something tug on his trouser leg. Peering down he saw Captain Chomp tugging ever so carefully, making a strange kind of growl/mewl. 

“I thought I told her to look after you.” he growled, but the bananawani kept on tugging and nudging his leg until Crocodile gave in, lowering his hook for the gator to climb on allowing Crocodile to lift the small reptile onto his lap. “Only until she comes back for you.” Crocodile warned. Chomp gave a happy sounding snort in response and shuffled into a comfortable spot and fell asleep promptly.  I’m starting to wonder who is actually in charge on this ship. 

Crocodile read the paper in delightful silence and drank his coffee before moving onto some left over work. He only looked up when a knock once again brought him out of his work. 

“Croco-chan?” her voice came again, “it’s time for lunch.” she announced. Lunch? Already? He hadn’t even noticed the time. Chomp wiggled on his lap and plopped onto the wooden floor, scurrying towards Hana. He looked up and noticed the plates had gone. 

“When did you sneak in?” he asked, stretching and rising from his chair. Chomp was already in her arms looking proud, his tail swishing contently. Crocodile noticed her outfit had changed. More flamboyant than this morning. “Going somewhere?” he questioned, walking over to her, tilting her head up as he dipped to steal a kiss. She smiled at him brightly. 

“I just felt like wearing something nice.” She guided him out of the room and towards the dining hall. Crocodile frowned deeply, the ship was too quiet. He inhaled deeply as he put the pieces together. She hasn’t…

 She pushed open the door and moved to the side letting Crocodile in as the lights flicked on and party poppers exploded all around him, showering him in strands of coloured string. 

“Happy Birthday Boss!” they all cheered. Crocodile exhaled slowly, turning to Hana. 

“I assume your doing?” he asked flatly, she tensed under his scrutiny and shuffled nervously with Chomp still in her arms, though the small gator was now donning a typical cone party hat.

“I...just wanted to celebrate your birthday.” she said meekly “it’s not their fault.” she added. Crocodile closed his eyes slowly and reached to tousle her bright orange hair,

“This once.” he stated sternly. She nodded and took hold of his hook guiding him to his usual spot at the head of the table. Planting another kiss on his cheek, she set Chomp down who reclaimed his spot on Crocodile’s lap, proudly wearing its party hat.

What a ridiculous hat. 

He saw Bentham edge towards him with another cone hat in his hand “don’t you even dare bring that near me.” he warned coldly,

“Yes Zero-chan!” 

Hana hurried back to him with an arm full of presents setting them down on the table before him.  “Happy Birthday Croco-chan.” she grinned, looking between him and the parcels with an uncontrollable glee. 

“What did I say about-”

“..but it’s your birthday!” she whined, “I should be allowed to give you gifts on your birthday.” this woman… she was not going to back down today it seemed. Reluctantly he reached for the first present, in a rectangular box he could smell the expensive tobacco from within the colourful wrapping paper. His cold eyes floated up to her again. “You can’t complain about the price of things!” she half shouted, like she knew what he was thinking. Opening the wrapping he saw his favourite brand of cigars awaiting him. Setting the cigars down, he opened the next parcel which was considerably larger and softer, his eyes once again wandered back to Hana who smiled excitedly at him. Tearing the wrapping, he was greeted with a new coat though it was reminiscent of his old coat, that he lost at impel down it was a thick soft fur, in an emerald green with thin white lines across it. A smile tugged at his lips as he trailed his fingers across the fur. He reached and placed a hand on her head. 

“Thank you.” 

The moment those words left his lips, the whole room fell quiet before erupting in cheers “Boss is happy!” 

“This was expensive.” he frowned, giving Hana a knowing look. “There better not be anything else like this.” Hana bit her lip and looked away nervously,

“You might not want to open that parcel..” she advised pointing to a box that was probably a shoe box. “Or that one..” gesturing to a small box with a large bow on top which was most likely another ring. He would have to scold her later about spending so much money on him. One gift would have been more than enough.

“Zero-chan! Open my present next!” Bentham shouted, placing a neatly wrapped gift on top of the pile. 

“I baked you a cake,” Rapunzel added “Pumpkin’s, own design.” he grinned, setting a large bananawani cake on the table. I wasn’t aware I was a child. 

Even Bones added a gift to the pile. Crocodile took a deep breath to calm his temper. This was precisely why he hated celebrating his birthday. He looked at Hana once more, “how exactly did you find out?” he questioned, she pointed to Bentham who tried to hide behind Bones.

“Hana-chan asked!” he whined, 

“But I like to celebrate my friends and loved ones birthdays.” she smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek again he could feel her smile against his skin. He couldn’t very well be angry at her. He dragged a hand across his face and up through his hair. “Happy Birthday Croco-chan.” she said again. She had no intention of not celebrating again, he could see it in her eyes.  Chomp wiggled on his lap and tried to climb Crocodile's chest. Chomp managed to jump and nudge Crocodile’s jaw, similar to how Hana showed him affection. Bentham ‘awed’ so loudly making Crocodile grimace. “Chomp was giving you a gift too.” Hana chuckled, “shows how much we all care!”

“Come on, let's party!” the crew cheered, finally breaking open the alcohol. As Crocodile had to finish opening his gifts. He shook his head slowly with a slight deep laugh. Never would he had thought he would celebrate such a day again but he didn’t hate it, his favourite gift was seeing her smile so brightly at him. Maybe next year it would be quieter.

[magicalhideoutengineer]

Taken from Inside the Magic: The Making of Fantastic Beasts

Porpentina Goldstein

At first glance, Porpentina Goldstein or 'Tina' Goldstein is a no-nonsense, career-driven New York witch. Indeed. She is the first of a magical persuasion to spot that Newt might be more than a passing tourist.

Dressed in her usual smart but inconspicuous mix of above-the-ankle trousers, grey overcoat and balck cloche hat, she trails him into the bank; there, she is appalled to witness the wizard use hhis wand in broad daylight and promptly arrest him. Newt is clearly an exposure risk to the secretive MACUSA. He may also be a chance for Tina to redeem herself.

Tina has run into her own problems at MACUSA. 'She's recently been demoted,' explains Katherine Waterston, the NewYork-based actress who is bringing this complicated witch to the screen. 'She's gone from being a detective to the lowly work in the Wand Permit Office. Basically stamping passports.’

Up until her downrturn in fortune Tina wasa Auror, a wizard detective tasked with investigating crimes. But as director David Yates explains, 'She had done something really bad.' What her crime might be is revealed over the course of the movie. 'Like Newt,' he says, 'she is a wee bit of an outsider.’

Waterston finds her character fascinating. Nothing is quite what it seems. Tina is really proud to be a part of MACUSA. She still hopes to make something of herself there. Yet she also slinks about New York doing her own investigation like a private eye from an old-schoolcrime movie.

'Tina has good instincts,' hits Waterston. 'She is good at her job. But when push comes to shove, she will abandon the rulebook.' She is a woman of great potential, but she just hasn't found a way to realize it yet, with pretty bobbed hair and a stern gaze.

Yates was taken with Waterston from the moment she walked into the first audition. She displayed similar qualities to Eddie Redmayne. 'Very much like Eddie, she can be quite deeply intense in a good way, and she can be very, very funny. She's got a great physical ability at comedy, which is quite rare. She's also a really powerful actor. I loved that combination.’

Waterston doesn't count herself as any kind of expert on the history of Harry Potter. She had seen some of the films, read some of the books, but admits she hadn't got a completely lost in the world. She also thinks that may not be a bad thing.

'I felt in a fortunate place,' she says, 'because I wasn't so obsessed that I had a lot of preconceived notions, but I was familiar enough to have a sense of the tone of the world.’

She also had a plenty of opportunity to pick the brains of J.K Rowling, who provided a wealth of knowledge on Tina.

'You just want to curl up by the fire withher and hear her stories,' sighs Waterston happily. 'She sees a whole, incredibly detailed universe.’

Two key relationship will emerge in Tina's busy corner of that universe. Firstly, with her sister Queenie, played by Alison Sudol, with whom she shares a small Brownstone apartment.

Tina and Queenie lost their parents to a Dragon Pox when they were young, and at different times have been a parent to one another. 'in their loneliness they've fallen into that dynamic,' says Waterston. Tina, she admits, may be a bit more the father, and Queenie the mother, cooking these wonderful meals. Queenie is as vivacious as Tina is restrained, yet they couldn't be closer.

'It feels true to me, the way Tina and Queenie relate to one another,' insists Waterston. Having only just met, she and Sudol developed an instant chemistry as they shot the scene of the Goldsteins preparing dinner for Newt and Jacob. It was their first day working together and they had to glide about the kitchen casting spells with their wands as if it was second nature.

'We kind of scrambled to figure it out –whose chore is whose?' recalls Waterston. 'I'm sort of setting the table with my wand and she's preparing the meal. We developed a little, superstitious salt-over-the-shoulder thing, just to give the audience a sense of their life together.’

Then, of course, there is Newt. Someone Tina can't quite figure out. Not at first. 'Part of what I love about Tina is that she's flawed,' says Waterston. 'Things don't work out for her. She meets Newt and she suspects there is something to him, but she doesn't know exactly what.’

Throughout the first film, as she watches him interact with his fantastic beasts and sees the way he is, Tina will come to view Newt in a different light.

'With Katherine's character, it is sort of a slow-build connection,' says Redmayne, 'these two people, who are outsiders yet passionate people, begins to glimpse things in one another.’

Waterston describes it as a love story albeit in an unconventional way. They have a lot of to deal with in the meantime – escaped beasts, death sentences, going on the run, tackling the outbreak of dark magic – and yet Newt sees all the potential in her that she has trouble seeing in herself. 'At first, she thinks he's dangerous and untrustworthy, and potentially kind of cute too,' she says. 'Then as the relationship evolves you start to notice parallels between them. I mean, both are very passionate but not very good at expressing themselves.’

She pauses, trying to capture one of the themes of the film: 'It can be lonely being an oddball until you find another oddball.’

Tina's Costume

'Tina Goldstein is a little bit gawky. A little bit not quite there in her body and just a little bit off in her costume. She was sort of a modern girl, and I made an acting decision to put her in trousers from the start, which was not so common in the period. She had an element of what the Aurors wore but not really. Hence the trousers. She was hiding a lot and doing her own private-eye things. So I gave her a trenchcoat with a really big collar she could tuck her head behind doing this kind of stealthy spying work.’

Tina's Wand

When it came to her wand, Katherine Waterston requested some 'heft'. She wanted to make Tina's spell-casting forceful, as if magic was something she takes very seriously. 'Tina's was nice,' says Pierre Bohanna. 'Quite simple and quite classic.’

The Goldstein Department

Named for the dark sandstone bricks used tobuild Manhattan's famous townhouses, most Brownstones were converted into apartments in the 1920s. Not wealthy, the Goldsteins occupy a couple of rooms within one such conversion.

Furthermore, Tina and Queenie will prepared inner for their guests with the help of familiar spells. Jacob, recovering from a nasty bite from a Murtlap, wonders whether he is having a hallucinogenic episode. ‘He's chucked onto this sofa and the girls suddenly swish their wands around and plates fly from everywhere and food is being chopped,' says visual effects supervisor Christian Manz, 'and we go into incredible detail about baking an apple strudel magically. But it feels workaday, it feels normal to them.’ 

'We've got little napkins flying like birds, we've got a book jacket that move around,' he recalls. Irons work on their own accord, a clothes-horse revolves to ensure both sides face the fire, and there is a lovely dress on a mannequin that Queenie is mending remotely. 

The idea, says actress Katherine Waterston, is 'to give the audience a sense of the Goldsteins' life together that is very insulated and private.' Having two men visit, she insists, is a 'freak exception'.

[bard-of-light]

A New Beginning

@ffxiv-writers

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A/N: This will have slight spoilers for the newest patch but nothing too major. I just wanted to write another cute fic in a nondescript future for Mehna and Alisaie. Also, I know that I am bad at titles.

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Alisaie stared out the window of the cottage she and Mehna built in the Black Shroud. She frowned as she saw the rain beginning to come down in earnest. Of all the days that Mehna decided to go on a hunting trip. She huffed as she crossed her arms. She knew it was foolish to worry about her Warrior but old habits die hard, right?

She shook her head before heading to the kitchen to make dinner. Knowing Mehna, she would be starving once she returned.

A few hours went by before the door opened. Mehna's clothes were drenched from head to toe as she held a small bundle in her arm. "I'm home, Alisaie," she called out to her lover.

"I'm in the kitchen, love but before you even think about coming in here, you will go change your clothes. I don't need you dripping water all over in here."

Mehna chuckled softly. "Aye I will go change but after I come out, I have a surprise for you," she said as she walked to their room.

That caught Alisaie's attention. The last surprise her love had brought home was an engagement ring. Her eyes traveled down to her left ring finger, smiling as she studied the ring Mehna had made for her. It was a simple silver band but the gem was a stunning ruby.

Alisaie turned as Mehna strolled out in a fresh tunic and trousers, still holding a bundle of cloth against her chest. She looked enamoured by whatever was in the cloth and was she...talking to it?

"Is that your cloak? I do hope you haven't ruined yet another one. If you keep getting holes in them, I won't keep getting them fixed for you," The Elezen said with a half stern voice.

Mehna looked up at Alisaie as if she was startled that she spoke to her. "Huh? Oh aye but it's not ripped....this time. I needed it to carry what I found on my way home."

That peaked Alisaie's interest. "Oh? Did you find another stray animal," she teased but eyes widen as she saw the cloak begin to squirm. "Oh Mehna, please tell me you didn't. We cannot keep bringing in animals you find."

Mehna began to speak but stopped after a small little hand popped out of the cloak. Whatever was in the bundle began to fuss but soon calmed down as the Bard began to rock it.

Alisaie frowned deeply before walking over to her fiancee. Her jaw dropped when saw saw a young Miqo'te staring back at her. The child was no more than a year old. "Mehna, is that," she started but paused.

Mehna nodded. "I found her in the woods all alone and starving. Her birth parents had been killed by wild beast. Surprisingly, she was hidden away in their cart. I couldn't just leave her there, Alisaie."

Alisaie sat next to her, pulling the cloak back to better look at the child. She had a tuft of auburn hair with white streaks atop her head and she had mismatched eyes, similar to Mehna. The only difference being that her eyes were silver and gold respectively.

Alisaie released a soft sigh, gently stroking the little girl's chubby cheeks. "I understand why you brought her here but I don't know if we can keep her. We know nothing about raising children." Even as she said this, the little Miqo'te's fist gripped her finger. Her heart melted at the gesture.

"I know you're right, Ali but she has no one. I cannot abandon her. I can't explain it but as soon as I saw her, I knew that I wanted her to be part of our family," she murmured softly as she watched her lover interact with the child. "But," she added, "I won't keep her if you're not ready for this."

Alisaie was silent as she weighted her options. She knew that taking this child in was a risk and quite a bit of work but looking into the young Miqt'oe's mismatched eyes, she felt what Mehna had felt; that this child belonged here with them.

"Well, she will need a name," Alisaie said before turning her gaze to her lover.

Mehna's ears perked up as a bright smile spread across her face. "I thought of one on the way home but I don't know if it will work with your last name or mine."

Alisaie let out a soft chuckle as the little child gummed on her finger. "Of course you thought of one already. Well, what is it?"

"Azha," Mehna said as she looked at Alisaie.

The Elezen looked at her with a content smile. "Azha...It suits her, love but I think your last name would suit her more."

Mehna lifted the young child up. Azha giggled as her little tail swished behind her. "Azha Nuwu, welcome home."