#that I'd been picturing him in a suit and tie

[lvmoure]

Jump Then Fall part 3 CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x childhoodbff!reader

Summary: In which your love is really worth waiting for.

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Part 1 part 2

You couldn't help but smile as you looked around the beautifully decorated hall. Fairy lights draped from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room, and fresh flowers filled the air with a delicate fragrance. Your friends Clara and Rafael were finally getting married, and the love between them was almost tangible. It was a picture-perfect day, and everyone was celebrating, caught up in the magic of the moment.

Beside you, Carlos adjusted his tie, looking a little uncomfortable in his suit. You chuckled as you nudged him playfully. "Stop fidgeting! You look great."

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous spark. "I'm not used to wearing this many layers. I'd rather be in racing gear."

"Well, sorry to tell you, but I think you pull off a suit pretty well."

Carlos’s face softened, and he held your gaze a moment longer than usual. "You don’t look so bad yourself." His tone was light, but there was something else there—something that made your cheeks flush.

You laughed it off, but you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you. Being with Carlos was easy, natural, but recently you’d felt a change in the air between you. Moments like these, when he looked at you with that unreadable expression, made your heart flutter, making you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way you did.

As the ceremony began, you found yourself watching the bride and groom, taking in the way they looked at each other. There was something so pure, so raw in their expressions—a kind of love that didn’t need words. You stole a glance at Carlos, and your breath caught in your throat. He was watching the couple too, but as if sensing your gaze, he looked over at you and gave you a soft, almost shy smile.

Carlos couldn’t help but feel a pang of something he didn’t quite understand as he watched Clara and Rafael exchange vows. The way they looked at each other, like there was no one else in the world, made him wonder if he’d ever find someone who made him feel like that.

But then his gaze shifted to you, standing beside him, your eyes fixed on the couple. You looked radiant, with a soft smile playing on your lips, your eyes shining in the candlelight. He felt his heart skip a beat, and for a moment, he imagined what it might be like to stand beside you at an altar someday, exchanging vows of your own.

He quickly shook off the thought, feeling foolish. You were his best friend—had been for as long as he could remember. But recently, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced around you, the way he found himself wanting to be closer to you, to hold your hand, to tell you things he’d kept buried for so long.

As the ceremony came to an end, he leaned over and whispered, "They look happy, don’t they?"

You nodded, looking at him with that soft, warm smile that never failed to make his heart stutter. "They do. It’s amazing, isn’t it? Finding someone who feels like home."

Carlos swallowed, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "It really is."

The reception was lively, with laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional cheers from the crowd. You and Carlos found yourselves at a table with some other friends, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze lingering on you throughout the evening. You tried to ignore it, focusing on the music and the joy of the celebration, but eventually, it became impossible to ignore.

During a slow song, Carlos leaned over, his voice a little uncertain. "Do you… do you want to dance?"

Surprised, you looked at him, but the softness in his expression made your heart ache in a way that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. "I’d love to."

As he took your hand and led you to the dance floor, you felt a rush of warmth spread through you. His hand rested gently on your waist, and as you swayed to the soft melody, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a moment that felt timeless.

For a long while, neither of you spoke, content to let the music fill the silence. But then Carlos looked down at you, his eyes searching, as if trying to tell you something without words.

"Thank you for being here with me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt your heart pound as you looked up at him, wondering if he could hear it. "Where else would I be?"

The dance ended too soon, and you returned to your table, but the feeling lingered. You knew something had shifted, something deep and unspoken. And as the night went on, you couldn’t help but wonder if Carlos felt it too.

A few days after the wedding, Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d missed his chance. He’d danced with you, held you close, and for a brief, beautiful moment, he’d felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. But he hadn’t said what he wanted to say—what he needed to say. The fear of losing you had kept him silent, but he couldn’t keep these feelings locked away anymore. He had to tell you the truth.

One evening, he called you, asking if you could meet him by the lake where the two of you had spent so many summers. It was a place filled with memories, where you’d laughed, argued, shared secrets. And now, it would be the place where he’d finally tell you how he felt.

When you arrived, you looked curious but a little nervous, as if sensing the weight of what was about to happen.

“Carlos, is everything okay?” you asked, your voice soft.

He took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he reached for yours. "There’s something I need to tell you, and it’s… it’s been on my mind for a long time."

Your brows furrowed, and he could see the concern in your eyes. But he pressed on, knowing that if he didn’t say it now, he might never have the courage again.

"I… I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember," he confessed, his voice trembling. "I didn’t want to say anything because I was afraid it would ruin what we have. But I can’t keep it to myself anymore. You’re… you’re everything to me."

He paused, looking at you, trying to read your expression. The silence stretched between you, each second feeling like an eternity.

His words hit you like a wave, leaving you speechless, your heart racing so fast you thought he could hear it. You’d dreamed of this moment for so long, but now that it was happening, you didn’t know what to say.

“Carlos,” you whispered, trying to steady your voice, “I… I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

He gave a small, shaky laugh. “I was so afraid, so scared that I’d lose you. But I couldn’t keep pretending that you were just my friend.”

You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the weight of his confession. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you… but I thought it would be too much, that you’d never see me like that.”

Carlos took a step closer, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. "I’ve only ever seen you like that," he murmured, his gaze soft and full of a love so deep it took your breath away.

In that moment, everything fell into place. All the years, the stolen glances, the unspoken words—it all led to this. Without another word, you leaned into him, letting the moment finally bring you together in a way you’d both been waiting for.

---

The day of your wedding dawned bright and beautiful, sunlight filtering through the windows as Carlos stood by the altar, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves. He’d never imagined that this day would come, that he’d be here, waiting to marry the woman he’d loved all his life.

When you walked down the aisle, his breath caught. You looked radiant, every bit the picture of beauty and grace, and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that you were his, that you’d chosen him.

As you reached him, he took your hands, feeling a surge of emotion as he looked into your eyes. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, the one he’d dreamed of but never truly believed would happen.

When it was time for the vows, he took a deep breath, his voice steady as he began.

“From the moment I met you, you were my best friend,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve seen me at my best and my worst, and you never gave up on me. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you in my life, but I promise I’ll spend every day making sure you know how much I love you. You are my heart, my home, my forever.”

He squeezed your hands, his eyes never leaving yours, his heart laid bare in his words.

As you listened to his vows, you felt tears gathering, each word resonating deeply within you. When it was your turn, you took a steadying breath, looking up at him, knowing that this was your chance to tell

him everything you’d kept in your heart.

“Carlos, you have been my rock, my joy, my everything. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved you, even when I was too scared to admit it to myself. You are my best friend, my love, and my greatest adventure. I promise to stand by you, to support you, and to love you more every day. You are my past, my present, and my future.”

As you finished, you saw the tears in his eyes, and you felt a surge of happiness like nothing you’d ever felt before. When the officiant finally pronounced you husband and wife, Carlos pulled you close, his kiss soft and filled with all the love and promises you’d shared.

Surrounded by family and friends, you knew that this was only the beginning of a beautiful life together—a life filled with love, laughter, and the kind of happiness you’d both dreamed of.

Because sometimes, love is worth waiting for.

[cmdrfupa]

Better Now

Nanami x Reader

Considering your husband's predictable habits, any deviation from the norm would raise some eyebrows.

So, being caught off guard is understandable as you spot Nanami standing in the hallway waiting to take his staff yearbook photo. Instead of his typical tan and blue outfit, he dawned a sharp black suit, which made an impression. 

"Christ." 

He wore his green-tinted glasses for the first time in a while, the black patch usually covering his eye now being held between his forefingers. The idle way he toyed with the string gave you your answer before even speaking up.

"You look very handsome, Nanami." the sound of your heels approaching brought him out of his head.

"Thank you, Mrs. Nanami." Flat. Flatter than usual. He wrapped the strings up, placing the patch in the inside pocket of his suit. "Did you get your first years settled? I heard talk of outfit offenders."

"It was the lack of clothes." you stood directly in front of Kento, considering straightening his tie. "2 boys tried taking their pictures shirtless, and one young lady snuck a Kaneki eye patch mask on last minute."

"Did you scold her?"

"Was just a mask. And it was Zenin, anyway. Her wanting to cover her face was understandable." 

Nanami huffed a laugh out, watching your hands work to fix his tie.

"Thank you."

You kissed his lips before stepping back, and your hand settled over his cheeks. It took a while, but Kento no longer flinched as you touched him.

His visible burn scars were about 90% healed. Thanks to compressive masks made via 3D printing, Kento could hide the facial wound while healing for the first eight months. 

The scars had matured with fine indentions and webbed patterns across his face. While they weren't incredibly fibrous or thick, they were noticeable. And he wasn't a vain man, but Kento was thankful they weren't a complete 'monstrosity' as this was the first time he'd be showing his entire face to the outside world since the incident; there was no concealing himself.

The light contact of your palm brought his stress levels down as always.

"I know you smelt the alcohol. It was a few sips before I got here."

"I know."

"It was with Ieiri."

"I know."

He took his glasses off, slipping them into his breast pocket.

"She called you."

Fiddling in your purse, you fished out the dark metal case. 

"Just to let me know you were on campus already and that you wanted your prosthetic."

The warmth of his fingers danced across your wrist as he took the case from your hand. "Thank you, love of my life."

"Anytime." His lips joined yours again like magnets as he brought you closer. "Are you gonna be okay if I go?"

A few reasons came to mind why he'd never be okay when you weren't next to him. But if Kento wanted to get his money's worth therapy-wise and get entirely into solo exposure therapy, he could get through this with a few camera clicks and a meeting without you. 

"Go ahead. I'll grab dinner on the way home once I finish here."

With a soft smile, you squeezed his arm before kissing his cheek. "See you at home."

    The evening wore on, and you hadn't heard from Kento. 

It's not entirely unusual, you thought. But it's almost 10 p.m., and surely his meeting wasn't that long. "I'll just call Shoko."

Six rings, no answer.

Gojo. Same thing.

"I'd hate to bother Itadori, but maybe he knows." As you dialed, a call from Ino popped up.

"Hello? Takuma?"

  "Sorry to call so late in the evening, Mrs. Nanami. But Gojo told me to give you a call."

That sick feeling waded through your thoughts. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"Sorry. I should've started that better. Nanami is okay, and everything is okay."

"Has Nanami been drinking?"

"No, I promise. We left our meeting, and he just wanted to drive, so Gojo and I followed him until we lost him." The sound of Gojo talking about pineapple-flavored sorbet leaked into the speaker from the background.

  " Gojo guessed, and now we're at the Shibuya station. At the mart across from it."

Holding the phone, Ino mumbled something to someone nearby before talking to the receiver again. "Nanami says he'll be home soon and that he is sorry for worrying you and being forced to talk to me like I'm his handler."

"You just saved me from a heart attack, so no need for an apology in any way. Thank you.”

"Have a good night, Mrs. Nanami."

"Be Safe, Ino. Good night."

  When you and Kento went couch shopping, you were adamant about plush, oversized cushions. "Think about movie nights. Napping on our days off. OH! Or parallel play!" You tried upselling the cloud couch, as the cheery salesman said, was an absolute steal.

Always practical and only buying out of necessity, Kento agreed to the cloud couch as long as it made you happy and you kept the cushions plush.

Most late nights, like this one, were spent on said couch. Kentos' first five weeks out of the hospital were spent camping in the living room. Listening to his half-baked ideas while he fought sleep to avoid the impending traumatic night terrors of the worst day of his life.

  "Honey?" He wriggled his feet out of his shoes and entered the living room. The soft glow from reruns of Jeopardy cast a gentle light across the walls as you slept soundly.

"Darling. I'm home." smooth knuckles ran the length of your arm.

Sleep in your eyes as you bat your lashes, trying to focus. "Ken, what time is it." fatigue coated your voice.

"It's late; I'm sorry." With your eyes still not entirely focused, you could make out Kento taking his button-down off and lying next to you on the chaise section of the sofa. He rested his head near your chest, holding you like a kite on a windy spring afternoon.

Wrapping your arms around him as best you could, you rubbed his back. Silent except for Alex Trebek giving Pamela her 'Potpourri, it could be anything!' question for 600. Nothing was said, but everything was understood in the quietude.

  "I saw Yu that night. During the accident."

Your hold tensed, bringing Kento closer until it was impossible.

"It was like a figment of him. He was fading from me.." shakiness saturated his usual warm tone.

"Ken."

"Like he was there warding off death. I wasn't supposed to die, and Haibara ensured it."

A sniffle brought your face closer to his, remaining mute during the spewing emotions.

"So much time has passed that I am forgetting his face, and I have to live, slowly forgetting his youth. I can't. I- I don't want that."

Wiping the tears as they rushed Kento's cheeks, you kissed his forehead.

"Haibara is eternal. And we will keep his spirit and love alive in all that we do."

The emotions were discernible, and Kento leaned into them wholly. Moments passed before he huffed and took a deep breath attempting to shake whatever emotions hung back.

"Finding a way to celebrate him would be good. Maybe light candles, and I'll dig out those high school photos."

"An altar? We can do that. We can grab some flowers and candles tomorrow to properly memorialize him."

The TV's fluorescent lighting flicked off with the timer, allowing the silver sheen from the moon to blanket your joined bodies.

"Thank you. For life. For your love."

"You have me and my love forever, Ken."

  Kento rested his head on your chest, contentment flooding his mind, closing his eyes as your warmth brought him to slumber's door.

Love you and thank you for reading 💕

[zxoaii]

Touch

fem! reader x bodyguard Choso

Summary: After the being sent to attend an event, Y/n and Choso find themselves more caught up with each other.

SMUT

WC: 2k

Wattpad: _Bolter

[ Y/n ]

"You look good in a suit." Choso looks at me while I adjust his tie. "You are stunning. No one is going to notice me with you right next to me." He's always so sweet.

"Thank you."

The elevator door rings out and the doors open. Choso offers me his arm. I take it as we walk into the foyer of the ballroom.

"Good evening." The host draws our attention to him. My bag clicks open as I retrieve the invitation. "He's my plus one." Of course, if he knows who I am he'd know that.

Money and Jujutsu Sorcery don't usually meet but somewhere, they did. I wouldn't say my clan is completely good but we are a force to be reckoned with.

My mother is the current head of the clan and because of my apparent lack of cursed energy, I was assigned a bodyguard.

I've had several throughout my life but this one is my favorite. Choso is a gentleman. He's caring and friendly. Not to mention, he is not bad-looking at all.

He isn't even a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He's a half-curse.

We walk into the crowded ballroom together. I love parties. They're a nightmare for him. He wouldn't ever say it out loud though.

Choso instinctively takes his arm away from me and falls two paces behind me. Technically we're supposed to act like he isn't here.

Still, it saddens me to lose his touch.

"Ms. Y/l/n, you look incredible. The last time I saw you, you were only a teenager. It's been so long!" I'm thrown into a conversation before I can tell Choso he should stand with me.

The night starts to drag on with insignificant conversations one after another. Being polite is exhausting. Especially when it's spent being polite to people who can't help but be self-obsessed.

As soon as I get a chance I excuse myself to go get a drink. I take Choso's arm and lead us to the drink table. "Do you want some?"

Choso shakes his head. Oh well. I take a glass of champagne for myself. It's a shame this is all they choose to serve. Still, it's better than nothing.

"How long have we been here?"

"45 minutes."

I want to spit my drink out. Only 45 minutes? It feels like we've been here for hours. I've been talking for hours. It's impossible.

"Seriously?"

Choso nods and scans the room. "Come on, there's not actually anyone here who's going to do anything to me." He gives me an unsure glance. "How long do we have to stay for?" My feet ache already. It's freezing in here. I would rather be anywhere else and I'd rather it just be him and I.

"You're supposed to stay for an hour and a half at least."

"What if I say I'm sick?"

Choso takes my empty glass from me and returns it to the table. "We came all this way just for this." He reminds me.

He looks so good in his suit. If I could have a picture of him dressed up like this I'd keep it in a locket.

"Y/n!" A voice calls out excitedly from behind me.

I really hate parties.

.  .  .

Choso sits in the front seat of the car as we're driven to our hotel. I can't stop admiring him. My cheeks flush when he looks at me through the rearview.

We hold eye contact until I look away.

The driver eventually stops in front of our hotel and opens my door for me. "Thank you." I step out of the car. Warm humid air wraps itself around my bare skin.

Choso follows behind me as I make my way inside. I can't come up with any valid reasons as to why I'd need to go to his room.

The walk through the lobby, then the elevator ride, and finally the walk to my room are all too short. I don't have enough time to think of something.

I stop at my door to give myself a second to think.

"Are you ok?"

My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before falling to my side. "Choso, you should come in with me."

I turn to look at him after I ask. "What?" This is the first time I've seen him so caught off guard. Maybe that's because he usually stands behind me.

"I want you to come in with me."

"We have our own rooms." Despite his now hardened reaction, his cheeks are red with blush. "Ok." I stop pushing and unlock my door.

"Goodni-"

Choso's hand lands on the door to stop it from shutting. He looks down at me from his place in the doorway. I step out of his way and he walks into the room. The door shuts behind him, leaving us in darkness. Some of the city lights illuminate parts of the room.

Just enough so I can see him.

My heart beats heavily in my chest as I reach out to touch him. Choso steps closer to me and allows me to start undoing his tie.

It falls to the floor but my hands remain on his chest. I have to stand on my toes to reach his lips. Choso leans in and meets me in a kiss.

My hands grip his shirt in fistfuls. Our kiss becomes increasingly desperate. My back meets the wall with a thud. One of his hands lands on the wall next to my head. The other finds its way onto my back.

Choso follows my spine with his fingers. He reaches the nape of my neck and takes the zipper of my dress. The straps fall from my shoulders as the zipper is drawn lower and lower.

When the entire thing is unzipped I let it pool around my ankles. Choso lifts me and carries me across the room. He handles me so gently. I'm laid carefully onto the bed.

My heels are slipped off my feet and then tossed across the room. Choso's lips start at my ankles and trail upwards. Each kiss leaves me more and more entranced by his touch.

As his lips meet my thighs he starts to linger longer. My fingers reach out and grab his hair. He continues up to my hips and for a moment I think he might keep going until our lips meet again.

Instead, he hooks my underwear with his fingers and gives himself more access to me. His touch runs hot across my skin as he pulls my underwear down completely.

"Is this ok?"

"You don't have to ask."

My hands encourage his movements. Choso's lips meet my core in a heated kiss. The kiss feels starved like he needs me to live. He shifts my left leg over his shoulder to give himself better access.

"Oh my god..." I sit up, resting on my elbows to look at him. Choso is still completely dressed. Despite how good-looking he is in his suit, I want it off.

"Take your shirt off."

Choso doesn't falter or stop. Instead, he works his jacket off and lets it fall to the floor. He starts working on the buttons down his shirt until he can take that off too.

His back is painted with scars that remind me of where he came from. My eyes are drawn down by his. Choso watches me through lustful hooded eyes.

His tongue presses against my clit causing my legs to bend instinctively. The dim lights from the window draw harsh shadows across his body.

Choso's hair is a mess from my hands. It falls into his face and tickles the inside of my thighs. Still, he deepens his movements.

The graze of his teeth against sensitive flesh causes a gasp. My hips grind against his mouth as he presses his tongue flat against me. Choso lets out a deep moan that vibrates through my body.

Pleasure starts to build up within me overwhelmingly quickly. "Don't stop." My pleas are answered by Choso's quickened kissing.

He moans once more. My eyes fall lower, following his arm. Choso masturbates as he eats me out. "Shit." The sigh drags on with my orgasm.

Choso doesn't stop until I fall back onto the bed. He pulls away breathlessly and fully removed his pants. His toned chest is also littered with scars that only continue to turn me on.

"Can you continue?" He licks his lips and runs his hand along my thigh. "Yes." Choso nods and reaches up to remove my bra. "You're fucking beautiful." His hands run along my body as if to memorize the feeling.

I shift to the edge of the bed, sitting on my knees so I can kiss him. This kiss is soft. Choso's hand carefully holds my chin. I follow him blindly as he sits down on the bed.

We pull away for a moment. Gentle hands guide me onto his lap. Choso holds my back as I fit him inside of me. The pain turns to pleasure within a minute.

Our eyes stay locked as I roll my hips. My nails dig into his back as I move against him. "Y/n." My name comes out as a plead more than a statement.

My desperate movements become quicker at his unsaid request. Choso peppers kisses along my neck and shoulders. He finds a spot and begins to suck on it to leave a mark.

I tilt my head to the side to give him more access. "Ah- Choso!" He bites down on my neck. I don't know if he drew blood or not but his tongue traces the bite mark several times before he moves on.

Choso's hands grip my ass. He guides me vertically in addition to my horizontal movements. Our moans grow louder together as I follow his movement.

"You're so fucking perfect." Choso catches my lips after his comment, only for a moment. He watches me with such loving eyes my heart flutters in my chest.

Has he always looked at me like this?

The buildup of my second orgasm comes along with his. His grip on me tightens, I feel the twitch of his cock inside me, and his head falls forward onto my shoulder.

Choso mumbles words I can't hear over the sound of my own moans. My orgasm washes over me so intensely that my legs twitch at his side.

We hold each other for a minute before I shift off of his lap to lie down. Choso collapses down next to me. My hand finds his, intertwining our fingers.

"You're... Unbelievable."

The smile on my face feels like it might never go away again. "Do you like me, Choso?" I look over at him from my spot.

"Like you? Of course I like you." He meets my eyes for a moment before shyly looking away. "Do you have deeper feelings for me?"

If the lighting was better I think I'd be able to see that bright red blush all across his face. "I do." His eyes search the ceiling for anything to look at other than me.

"I have deeper feelings for you too." I sit up so he can't avoid looking at me. "You do?" I brush his sweaty hair from his face. "Of course." Choso doesn't return my happy grin.

Instead, he sits up and meets my lips in another passionate kiss. My arms lock around his shoulders to hold him closer. I'd stay like this forever if I had the choice.

Choso pauses for a moment then pulls away. He rubs my thigh as his eyes trail along my neck. He stops at the spot I assume he had bitten. My fingers feel across the skin for a moment before finding the mark.

"I'm sorry. You just tasted so good."

"Don't talk."

I lean back in and happily take another kiss from him. The bite mark will be hard to hide, especially since nothing I packed covers my neck.

Still, if he wanted to bite me again he could.

We could do this all over again as many times as he wants.

[thesoftboiledegg]

"Fear No Mort" was constant whiplash. In fact, I struggled to evaluate this episode at first because it was one twist after another. Throughout the episode, I had flashbacks to "M. Night Shaym-Aliens!" (the rap scene might've been a direct reference) and the Rickbot reveal in "Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation."

For better or worse, season seven's had a lot of callbacks and episodes that mirrored previous ones: "That's Amorte" played out like "Mortynight Run"; "Air Force Wong" brought together Dr. Wong, the president and Unity; "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie" was a "Get Schwifty" sequel.

Seasons six and seven have also piled on the fanservice. The first four seasons stubbornly refused to give us what we want, dangling fan theories or a gentler Rick in our faces before yanking it away. Rick started to change in season five, but it's another ten episodes before you get Rick in a suit and tie, Rick announcing that Rickcest is canon, Rick regularly going to therapy, Space Beth joining the family and other content that's floated around the fandom since 2017.

And let's not forget the big one: C-137 Rick and Morty, Prime Rick and Evil Morty in one episode, fighting and teaming up after we saw Evil Morty's once-forbidden backstory.

Some call it cheap thrills, but I call it a gift to the fandom that's patiently waited for the fakeouts to end. And now that I've said that: "Fear No Mort" was one giant fakeout.

But was it, though?

This is the most unpopular opinion in the world, but I'm not invested in Rick and Diane's relationship. As a gay woman, I just don't connect with opposite-gender couples. Also, I dislike the trope of the idolized dead wife that the audience only learns about through her widower. She's not her own character, just an extension of the male protagonist.

When the fake Rick and Diane reconnected, I thought "Oh boy, this is getting cheesy." They're falling for each other again: check. Rick feels guilty about her death: check. We see how similar they are: check. Rick doesn't want to leave: aaaand, check.

I'm also a little lost after the ending. Morty was the only one in the hole, so why did we see all these scenes from fake Rick's perspective? Was an NPC really that busy?

How much we learned about Diane is debatable, too, since Morty never met her. I guess his ideas came from whatever Rick's told him and maybe the ship's voice since she's based on Diane.

I did like how the episode kept reminding us that Morty's still in the Fear Hole. I mean, we didn't know that, but we knew that. No "Are they in the Fear Hole or not??" until all the twists in the third act.

Aside from that, I don't want the show to revisit the past too much because Rick needs to let go. If you're a Marvel fan, you saw the backlash to Steve Rogers traveling back in time to spend a lifetime with Peggy in "Endgame." He had a life in the present, but he refused to move on.

Nostalgia makes us yearn for earlier years, but if Rick abandoned his family to live with Diane in another reality, I wouldn't call that a sweet ending. I'd call that a disappointment and a waste of his character.

Turns out, Rick never had that option at all.

Well...in a way, he did. And when Morty told him what he saw in the Fear Hole, Rick ran back to the restroom. He looked into the hole. He thought about it. And then he did what I wanted him to do, which was walk away. In this moment, he chose the present.

Admittedly, Morty's fear came true: Rick didn't jump in the hole after him, he did just sit there and watch, and he didn't want to say that Morty's irreplaceable out loud. Plus, Rick was bewildered when Morty hugged him. But for the first time, instead of standing stiffly or gently pushing him away, Rick started to hug him back.

We also saw what Morty didn't: Rick smiling to himself after hanging up the picture of Morty that he kept in his wallet. He had the chance to wallow in shadows of the past, but he didn't take it. Rick chose him.

"Fear No Mort" could've ended with Rick just saying "Let's go" and leaving, but it didn't. Seasons one and two Rick would've bitched and moaned about Morty taking so long. Season three Rick would've left him there for a while to torment him. Season four Rick would've found a way to take advantage of this.

But seasons five, six, seven? That's real character development. That's what all the Twitter users saying "Wow, Rick and Morty is actually good" have been missing out on.

And for the first time in the series, a season didn't end with Rick relapsing or getting a (well-deserved) ass kicking. Is Morty going to get the grandfather that he deserves? Or will he move on, too, now that Rick's releasing his iron grip? Speculating is fun, but for now, let's focus on today.

[bite-sized-devil]

I was listening to Avril Lavigne’s Girlfriend and my head was thinking human au demon bros stealing mc from they’re boyfriend. Like the bros just ruining all they’re dates and seducing mc

Omg this is so funny! I love where your head is at anon. Ok so I'm so sorry this took me a while, I originally wrote heaps more for each but then decided to shorten them and release the longer versions later! You've tickled me with this idea 😂☺️

WARNING +18 MDNI. Not all are NSFW but still you know minors fuck off. 🫵🖕✌️

Date 1: You're waiting for your uber, it's late. It finally shows but not in the car you thought you ordered. Shocker it's Mammon. He's stealing you away to a date night you hadn't planned. Guess what, your boyfriend isn't invited.

Date 2: What's better then a cute date with your bf in the park! Barely anyone else in sight besides a big beefy orange haired dude jogging far off in the distance. Aww your boyfriend wants you to pose for a picture, ok time to look cute. Oh no, that jogger is no longer so distant. In fact he's so close he's picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder and then sprinting away. All your boyfriend is left with is the pretty flower he picked for you and the ringing in his ears from you screaming Beel's name.

Date 3: It's getting hot and heavy with your boyfriend after a perfect date. You're making out and stripping each other's clothing, teeth clashing, arms flailing. Your boyfriend gets a work call he has to take, leaving you pouting. Left in your room waiting for him. Unbeknownst to you Belphie has entered your room, he wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your neck. You purr at his touch, thrilled your boyfriends work call didn't take to long. He doesn't let you turn around, which you find odd but it's kind of hot so you go along with it. You find your self pinned to the bed, panties ripped off, and moaning as he slides he cock back and forwards through your soaked folds. Try explaining this to your boyfriend when he walks in and finds Belphie balls deep inside your pussy fucking you from behind, moaning a name that isn't his.

Date 4: A date at the movies with your beau, cuddling up next to one another and eating popcorn and drinking soft drink. How could that go wrong? It's strange that you and your boyfriend are the only ones here. Even weird is the fact that when someone does eventually come they sit directly beside you. Odd? Why would he select a ticketed seat right next to someone when the entire theatre is free. It finally clicks when you hear his all to familiar voice. He's gesturing wildly at the screen, saying how the it's exactly like the first movie only the landscape has changed. You'd be more annoyed if you didn't actually agree with him. He's even stealing your popcorn and drinking your drink. It is a bit cute the way he blushes and flusters when your hands touch on the arm rest between you. He jerks away and covers his face with both hands. To your boyfriends absolute shock he sees you pry the purple haired annoyance's hands away from his face and reassure him it's fine if you two hold hands.

Date 5: A romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant, your boyfriend really went all out. He's even wearing a suit and tie, clearly he wants to get lucky to tonight. You've been sitting an chatting for a while and looking at the menu. Your partner orders you both some wine, before you dine (I'd apologise for that but I shan't). It arrives, a different waiter from before, this one tall and auspiciously blonde. Oops it's to late, he's already spilt wine all down your boyfriends white shirt. No, he's not apologising. He's sitting down next to you and telling your date to run home and get changed, he shouldn't be seen looking like a slob with such a beautiful date.

Date 6: You meet your boyfriend at a club for dancing. What's hotter then grinding up on each other while slightly intoxicated, and heavy makeout sessions on the slightly less lighted side of the room. Excusing yourself to get another drink you come back to where you left him. He's no longer their, that's odd? You scan the dancefloor, your mouth falling open when you find him. Well isn't that the hottest thing you've ever seen. Asmo the sneaky fuck has pulled your boyfriend into a trance. They are both pressed tightly against each other, Asmo's tongue is jammed so far down your boyfriend's throat you're worried it's stuck there. You move closer to them, your body moving of its own accord. Not wanting to be a bystander any longer you join them, sandwiched between both of them. This night is turning out way different to what you had planned.

Date 7: You just straight up ghost your boyfriend. You didn't mean too! You swear! But, Lucifer called you... And well you've never been very good at saying no to him. Actually, he's not very good with hearing a no from you. You didn't want to displease him, but then the time go away from you. Before you know it it was way to late to call your boyfriend. And to be honest you were a little bit preoccupied with your little phone call with the eldest brother. Somehow you ended up in your bed naked and touching yourself but only when he told you too, stopping if he asked for it too. So no actually you probably won't be calling your boyfriend after this. You are 100% sure Lucifer wouldn't allow it.

Thank you so much for sending me this little thought anon! You inspired me ☺️ hope you like how it turned out, I sure did 💕🌻

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you liked it ☺️ Likes, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated! 🌻 Please don't repost, that shit won't fly here. I'll annoy the absolute shit out of you. If you would like to join the tag list please fill in my dumb little form.

Tagging: @delphi-dreamin @sassykattery @alexxavicry @your-next-daydream @rosanism @marvelous-maniac @i-hardly-know @kyungjoon-do @ria-demon29 @itsmeninerz @allielozoya @spookyscaryskeletonn @zarakem @soapbooger @attic-club-sandwich @yuujispinkhair @tea-time-writes

[topguncortez]

So first smut prompt goes to Hangman number 14... I picture him with an inexperienced girl and reassuring her he's not always rough and feral.

pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Shy!Wifey ➢warnings: FIRST TIME SMUT, oral ( f receiving ), Jake being a fucking sweet heart, pain with sex, mentions of blood, dirty talk ➢note: this just SCREAMS shy!wifey and Jake so I had to do it to ya ➢Hangman Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist ➢Main Masterlist ➢3 fucking K celebration:)

The wedding had been beyond perfect. It was like Y/N's childhood dreams had come true. She truly felt like she was Princess Kate, and Jake looked at her like she was a queen. She was beyond nervous the whole morning getting ready, but when those church doors opened and she saw him in his blues, and the tears forming in his eyes, she knew she had made the right choice.

The reception had been a blast. She knew that aviators knew how to party, but she had never seen them let loose like that. Rooster had some how lost his shirt and ended up with just his tie and cap on his head. Bob was chatting it up with one of Y/N's cousins, his cheeks pink from the shots of vodka Fanboy made him do. Javy was trying to hit on one of Jake's sisters and even bragged about catching the garter.

At the end of the night, Jake and Y/N did a final dance just the two of them. The music played softly in the background as Y/N laid her head on Jake's chest feeling his heartbeat.

"I love you," He spoke and she lifted her head, looking up at him.

"I love you, Mister Seresin," She smiled and kissed her husband.

"Mhm, Mrs Seresin," Jake shook his head, "God, I'll never get tired of how that sounds."

Y/N's heart was pounding as she grabbed Jake's face in her hands and brought him down for a passionate kiss. The other part of this day she had been dreaming of, was giving herself over to Jake for the first time.

Jake had been amazing at understanding and respecting of her wishes. He never pushed her, never tried to coerce her or make her feel uncomfortable about wanting to wait for marriage. Even the times that she had tried to insinuate it, feeling like she had to do something for him after hearing some of the other aviators girlfriends speak, Jake stopped her knowing that it wasn't what she wanted.

They both knew that this kiss was different, as Jake's hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her in close to him. Before things could escalate, Y/N pulled back and bit her lip.

"Oh don't do that," Jake teased, and with his thumb pulled her bottom lip away from her teeth, "Drives me too fucking insane, I'd take you right here on the floor."

Y/N whimpered at his words and rested her hands on his chest, "Take me to bed, Jake."

Jake pulled her quickly out of the ballroom and ran for the elevator. Y/N's giggles filled the hallway, and Jake had a smile on his face. He was thankful that their venue and hotel were in the same place. There was a certain excitement as Jake put his arm around Y/N's waist, as they watched the floor numbers take them up to their suite. The second the elevator doors were opened and they stepped out, Jake grabbed her body and put her over his shoulder.

"Jake!" She squealed, and Jake playfully smacked her bum.

Jake opened the hotel room door, and walked over to the bed, laying her down gently. He quickly kissed her, climbing on the bed, and putting his knee between her thighs. Her hands tangled in his blonde hair, pulling on the locks a bit. They had done this before, making out like some teenagers. She felt comfortable doing this, but when she felt Jake's hand start to skim up her body, she froze a bit.

"Wait," Y/N sucked in a breath and Jake pushed off of her.

"We don't have to do this if you don't-"

"I want to," Y/N assured him, "You're going to wrinkle my dress."

Jake chuckled and got off her. He held his hand out for her, and pulled her to her feet. Y/N turned around and Jake's hands went to the buttons at the back of her dress. Her dress was beautiful, and Jake had never seen anything like it. It was as if it was made specifically for her. He gently pulled the dress down her body, and she braced her hands on the bed, stepping out of it. Jake then went and hung it up on the back of the door so it was off the ground.

When he turned around, he thought he was going to cream his pants. The white lace bra and underwear she wore made her look angelic. She had another garter wrapped around her thigh, and Jake could see the blue stitching that said "Mr and Mrs Jake Seresin". Her eyes were big as she looked at him like he was the only thing that mattered.

It took one stride for him to cross the room and get to her. One hand wrapped around her waist and the other on her cheek, kissing her. He walked her backwards to the bed, and eased her down on it. She pushed herself up a bit, so she was laying in the center of the bed. His kisses her soft and delicate as they moved down her jaw, to her neck, and to her breasts.

"Jake," Y/N whined, "It feels good."

"Does it?" She could feel his cocky smirk against her skin, "If you feel this good from me kissing you, you just wait."

Jake's hips grinded into Y/N's getting a moan to leave her lips as one of his hands came up to grope her breast. She had never been touched like this and it made Jake stiffen up even more that he was the first one. That she trusted him that much with her virginity. His free hand went around her back, and unclasped her bra. He leaned back on his heels as he gently pulled the bra off her body. Her hands went right away to cover herself and Jake shook his head.

"Don't hide from me, sweetheart, don't ever hide from me," Jake said, "You are perfect. So fucking perfect." Jake leaned down, his tongue swirling around her nipple before sucking it into his mouth. She gasped at the feeling, her hands going to the back of his head to hold him there. He looked up at her, seeing the blissed out look on her face. His other hand went and tweaked at her other breast, rolling the nipple in her hand. He then switched, showing love to her other breast.

"Jake, please," Y/N moaned, thrusting her hips up. She had felt this feeling before when they'd make out. The feeling of wetness and a gentle ache between her thighs. She clenched her thighs together to try and relieve some of it, but it wasn't helping. She needed more. She needed Jake.

"I got you, okay," Jake assured her, "I'll give it to you, but I gotta make sure you're ready first." Y/N nodded and Jake kissed down her body. The lower he got the more she ached for him. His fingers tapped at the top of her white panties, and looked up at her.

"Can I?"

"Yes, yes please."

Jake pulled the garment down her legs, and stuffed them into her dress pants pocket. Her core was glistening and Jake let out a groan. It was hard for Y/N to not try and cover herself, especially with how Jake was looking at her. He ran a singular finger through her soaked folds and she let out a pornographic moan, throwing her head back and arching her back. He circled her clit a couple times in lazy circles, watching as her body withered from the pleasure.

"Can I touch you here?" He tapped his finger at her opening and she nodded. Slowly, Jake pushed his finger into her cunt, feeling her stretch around the digit. It felt foreign to her, and Jake didn't start moving his finger until he felt her somewhat relax. He moved his finger in and out of her and slowly curled it up.

The pleasure was like nothing Y/N had ever felt before. It was beautiful and she was craving more. It felt like butterflies in her stomach, like when you'd drop from a rollercoaster. Jake watched her body, and leaned in between her legs, licking at her clit.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, her hand going to his blonde locks, "Oh, yes, yes, Jake."

"You taste so good," Jake said in between her thighs. When Jake felt like she was ready, he pulled back from her body. He got up from the bed, and took off his dress pants and button up. He reached into his suitcase and got out a condom and some lube.

"What is that?" Y/N asked, as she pulled back the covers and got under them, her bare body cold without Jake's body on hers.

"Lube," Jake said, shaking the bottle, "It'll help both of us. I don't want this to hurt. I got you ready, but it still might hurt just a bit."

Y/N nodded and watched as Jake stripped his black Armani boxers off his perfect thighs. She couldn't help but look away as his cock sprang free. She had never seen him this bare before, and a blush rose on her cheek. Jake opened the condom and slid it on, before coming to join her in bed. He crawled himself on top of her, placing his hands on either side of her head. Grabbing the bottle of lube, he put some on his fingers before spreading it over her cunt. Y/N let out small gasp at the feeling. When he felt like she was ready, he looked down at her.

"Hi," He smiled.

"Hi, yourself," Y/N said and kissed the corner of his mouth.

Jake grabbed his cock in his hand, "Listen, if at any time this hurts or become too much, you tell me and I'll stop. If you don't want to do it anymore, you tell me to stop."

"You're too good for me," Y/N hands, skimmed up his muscular back.

"Says the one who agreed to marry me," Jake kissed his wife. He drug his cock through her folds, before lining up with her entrance. He sucked in a breath as he pushed his tip in. Y/N tensed up, her nails digging into his back. Jake thrusted slowly, letting himself slip in little by little, and then pulling back out.

"Don't pull back," Y/N said, and Jake nodded. He pushed himself about halfway in, and Y/N squeezed his bicep.

He looked down at her in a panic, and could see the tears pricking in her eyes, "Baby, tell me how it feels. It hurts, doesn't it? I can stop."

"No," Y/N whimpered, "It just feels weird. Keep going please, and just. . . wait for a moment."

Jake nodded and continued to push into her body, then becoming flush with her hips. They both let out gasps, and Jake caressed her cheek. He didn't even care about sex at this point, he was content with staying right here inside of her the whole night. She was keeping him warm and squeezing him just right. But then he felt her start to wiggle underneath him, moving her hips to try and get some friction.

"Move," She said softly, "Please."

"I'm going slow," Jake said, "I'll fuck you hard and fast another day. But I want to take my time."

Y/N nodded and pressed her lips to his collarbone as he slowly drug his hips back, thrusting in and out of her. Her hands moved up his back and tangled in his hair. Grunts and moans left their mouthes and mixed together in the air. Jake grabbed her thigh and hooked it over his hip, to reach a new angle. She closed her eyes as she felt the intense feeling in her lower body.

Everything felt so good from the way her body felt below his, to the way he seemed to hit all the right spots. The impending orgasms rose in their bodies and Jake smashed his lips to hers, swallowing her moans. Jake felt his the rubber band in his stomach snap, and himself spilling into the condom. Y/N could feel the warmth fill her body and Jake tried hard to not let his body collapse on top of her.

"Fuck," Jake moaned out, "I'm so sorry. I usually don't-" Y/N cut him off with a kiss, and held his face in her hands.

"It was perfect," She said and Jake leaned his forehead against hers.

"Want to take a bath? Phoenix and Penny got us a bottle of champagne and some bubble soap," Jake proposed and Y/N nodded, "I'm going to pull out now, okay." Jake easily moved his hips back and Y/N whined at the feeling, "Does it hurt?"

"Yeah," Y/N answered, "It's okay."

Jake nodded and pulled back the blankets enough for him to slip out of bed. He could see the tiniest bit of blood on her thighs.

"Lay right there, I'll be back," Jake said, and went to the bathroom. He threw away the condom, and cleaned himself up. He slipped his boxers back on and grabbed a wash cloth to clean his wife up. Y/N was tapping her fingers on her tummy when Jake came back. She smiled up at him, as he kneeled between her thighs and cleaned her up. Y/N jumped a bit.

"Sensitive?" Jake asked.

"Yes," Y/N said, "D-Did I bleed?"

"A bit," Jake answered and kissed her cheek, "It's normal. Nothing to worry about, sweets. What do you want to wear?"

"Uh my robe is on the back of the bathroom door." Jake went and grabbed her robe, and slipped it over her body. He pulled her up from the bed and kissed her.

"Get a snack and some water. I'll start the bath and then pop those bottle open," Jake said.

"Yes. . . Mister Seresin."

Jake smirked, "You're going to be the death of me. . .Mrs Seresin."

"What a glorious way to die, if you ask me."

"Can't think of any way better."

[lowkeyremi]

mayaaaaa !! so your aot fluff just sent my soul back to my levi fanfic phase 😭😭 can you please please write more of levi with his younger lover ??? i need to know all about it !!! how do they cuddle? how did they get together? what’s he like in public with them????

love you lots <33

OFC!! This is such a cute concept i'm excited to write this >:3 AND ILY TOO <333

It's not required but if you haven't read the first part you might wanna do that :)

CW: None, just fluff

First encounter:

The two of you met when he was on a business trip. You and your friends were shopping for new clothes and he was at the store for a new tie, because according to his boss, "you wear that same tie all the time, Ackerman. This meeting is really important so try to look nice."

When you saw him it was game over. Funny thing is you didn't even try to hide it either, your eyes widened, your jaw was on the floor, and everything.

"That guy is so hot! You should talk to him." Your friend squeals.

"No way in hell, he's probably married! That'd be so weird." You argue in return. Your friend didn't give up though.

"Excuse me, sir! If you're looking for a tie my friend can help you look for one! She used to work in retail." Her voice is sweet when talking to him. If that super hot guy hadn't been right there you would have smacked her.

He didn't say anything at first, he looked you up and down. "He's checking you out!" She whisper-yelled. You elbowed her in the rib.

"I have a suit that looks like- you know what let me just look for a picture." He says, and what the hell... his voice is like silk.

You walk over to him. "Here it is." The suit is a dark gray, with a white undershirt. Your eyes scan his phone, it's an older outdated model and you can't help but giggle.

"Is gray a bad color for me?" He asks, with sarcasm.

"No no! It's just.. what model is your phone? It looks old." His brows furrow as he inspects his phone.

"I don't know, I got it a long time ago." He says with a shrug, "It works just fine."

"Sorry sorry. What kind of tie do you have right now? If you have one." You say trying to be inclusive.

"The one I usually wear is black but this is a special occasion so I need something else." You hum lightly while looking around.

"Okay, I'm thinking blue. Specifically dark blue." He nods and you two look around for a dark blue tie without patterns because he's basic.

Out of the corner of your eye your friends are making smooching faces and other romantic gestures. You're going to end them later.

"I found one thanks for the help." He says.

"Of course!" Fuck, too happy?

He stares at you for a moment, and you stare back before looking away. You take a step back and clear your throat.

"C-can.. I get your number?" Your foot is tapping and you're looking everywhere except for at him.

"Yeah, sorry if my calls don't go through because of my crappy phone." He says with a small.. smile?

You stare for a second in silence.

"That was my attempt at making a joke, it was bad." He says with a sigh.

"Yeah... we're gonna need to work on that. What's your name Mr. Gloomy?" You hand over your phone, you have the dial screen open so he can put in his number.

"Levi Ackerman." That small smile returns.

"I'll see you around, Levi."

In public:

Turns out you were actually the one who wasn't big on telling people about you at first. Levi is proud of everything he does. In all honesty you were slightly embarrassed by having an older boyfriend.

"What if people think you're my sugar daddy or something?" You reason.

"I'm not that old." He rolls his eyes.

"Why does it matter what other people think of our relationship anyway? They're not dating you, I am." He explains. He makes it sound like common sense, which it is, but you still think it's a little awkward.

"I mean it doesn't matter too much but-"

"I respect your decision. I'm not huge on PDA but I'd at least like people close to me to know." He explains rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. You grab his hand (which happens to be very veiny and pretty) and kiss it.

"Thanks, Levi."

-----

When you did tell everyone... you were all over him. Levi was never big on PDA but he didn't mind giving you a little kiss or holding your hand.

The only time he's really touching you in public is one someone's hitting on you. Levi gets scared that you'll find someone younger than him.

-----

"Did you want to go out sometime?" Your new co-worker asks you. He doesn't know you have a boyfriend but you've been rejecting him all week.

You check your phone to see that Levi's just arrived. Your shift ended early today and he promised to come get you and take you out.

"Um no than-"

"Are you ready to go, baby?" Levi's voice is confident and smug. The guy looks over to Levi and then to you. His face flushes and he starts to stammer.

"U-uh sorry. I... I didn't know." Levi exhales as the guy walks away in a hurry.

"You should call me that more often." You chime in with a cheeky smirk.

"I do." He offers you his hand. When you take it, he leads the way to his black cadillac.

"I mean yeah! But not outside of the house."

"I'm working on it... baby."

Meeting the parents:

To your surprise they were very accepting of Levi.

"They've always been very childish. I'm so glad they found someone to keep them in shape." Your mother was embarrassing as always.

"Take care of them." Your father had said.

Levi nodded and they stood there awkwardly.

"Um dad! Levi works for a law firm! Isn't that something? You've always wanted me to get into law school, remember?" Your attempt to change the subject worked.

"I did, but you never wanted to. Always said "Dad! I don't wanna sit at a desk all day!" What law firm do you work for Levi?" It must be a parent's job to embarrass their child.

"Oh I work for..."

That convo went on forever.

-------

"Hello, Mrs. and Mr. Ackerman." Levi nodded, which motivated you to place down the bouquet of Mrs. Ackerman's favorite flowers on her gravestone.

"You guys seemed like great people from what Levi told me. I'm taking care of him, he's not a lonely loser anymore." Tears are welling up but nothing comes out, you smile softly.

"I was never a loser." His eye roll doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"If that's what makes you feel better, then okay. Anyway, I wish I could have had the chance to meet you guys. Mrs. Ackerman I can see why your husband married you. You were fine as hell. That must be where Levi gets it from." You rant with a little giggle.

"I look more like my father." He reminds you.

"Yeah yeah, this isn't about you. I'm trying to meet your parents." You wave him away and continue to talk to the Ackermans.

"I think they would have liked you, a little weirded out by you at first but in the end they would have loved you like you were their own." Two arms wrap around you and then those tears fall. Out of all your relationships none have ever made you feel this loved and wanted.

Chilling:

"Boop!" Levi almost bites your finger this time.

"Stop "booping" me. It's annoying." He's facing you while in bed, those dark, onyx eyes look into yours. God he's so beautiful.

"I'm bored, let's get up." That's probably the tenth time you've said that to him.

"We agreed on fifteen more minutes of cuddling." Levi is a cuddler. In previous relationships you've complained about not being cuddled enough.

Levi is all about physical affection inside of the household. You love it, but at times like right now, you just crave to move around.

He's peppering your face with kisses, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks, everywhere. The cherry on top is that he smiles when he hears you chuckle at his actions.

"Okay now we can get up, since you're so impatient." Those snuggly arms let go of your body so you can go get ready for the day.

"I love you Levi!" He hesitates upon hearing you say that before responding, "I love you too."

In conclusion Levi is literally like a dad who has to keep one of those little kid backpack leash things on his kid (you) lol he loves you tho <3

[hischierdevils]

Ruin The Moment | M.M.

note: this song reminded me of mitch

summary: you take mitch as your date to a wedding but your ex is there and has questions

warnings: shitty ex, fluff, slight angst

wc: 1.4K

“Congratulations! It was a beautiful ceremony.” Mitch shakes your older brother’s hand before hugging your new sister in law. 

“Thanks, man.” Your older brother pulls you in for a hug. “It’s about time the two of you got together.” He says as he looks at you and Mitch standing next to each other. Mitch matched the color of his tie to your dress and he looked absolutely amazing in his suit.

Mitch had been your best friend since your first day at Blyth Academy. Everyone that knew the two of you had expected you to get together at one point but you never did. Mitch’s first love was always hockey and you didn’t want to pull him away from his dream. 

Cue the shock when you arrived at your brother’s wedding with Mitch as your date. You’re pretty sure your mother had tears in her eyes when she said hello to you. The only person that didn’t seem happy to see the two of you together was the best man, Jake. He also happened to be your ex-boyfriend. 

“Hopefully you’ll be the next bride.” Your new sister in law says as she hugs you. 

You smile at her as you glance over at Mitch. “I think it’s too early for that.” Even as you say it, you know he’s the only man you could ever picture walking down the aisle toward.

“Let’s get a picture of the four of you.” Your mom comes up behind you with her phone, motioning you and Mitch to stand by your brother and his bride. Mitch puts an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. You place your hand on his chest as you smile at your mom. “You all look so good.” She cries. 

“Mom, it’s their day.” You laugh as you move away from Mitch. His hand catches yours and he intertwines your fingers before you can get too far away from him. “The reception is about to start, let’s go find our seats.” You tell him. 

You and Mitch were sitting at a table with six of your brother and sister in laws single friends since you added him as a plus one at the last minute. Mitch wasted no time in introducing the two of you to everyone at the table and chatting everyone up. 

It’s not until after the first dance when the bridal party sits down do you realize that Jake has a perfect view of you and Mitch from his seat. He obviously watches the two of you during the speeches and even makes a joke during his own about how his friendship with your brother survived dating his sister. 

Your brother looks at Mitch apologetically but Mitch shrugs it off, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “You okay, y/n?” He whispers in your ear. 

“I’m fine.” You assure him before sipping on your champagne. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” 

He smiles and leans over to kiss your forehead. “There’s nowhere I'd rather be.”

After dinner, Mitch leaves you to find a bathroom before making you promise to dance with him. As if you could ever tell him no. As soon as Mitch is out of sight, Jake drops into his empty seat. “Nothing to worry about, huh?” 

You roll your eyes before turning your head to look at him. You’re a little surprised to feel nothing when you look into his green eyes. Blue is a little more your color now. “Mitch and I were just friends when you and I were together.” You explain. 

“Yeah, okay.” Jake huffs. “You ditched me for him anytime he was in town. I don’t know why I stayed so long.”

“You cheated on me.” You remind him through gritted teeth. “What does it matter now anyway?” 

“I just want you to admit that I'm not entirely at fault, y/n.” Jake tries to place his hand on top of yours but you pull away from him. “We were so good when we were good.”

“But we were usually bad.” You say, remembering the arguments, the sleepless nights on the couch. 

“I was jealous of him.” Jake says motioning to Mitch’s name tag at the table. “Clearly for good reason.” 

“You treated me like shi-”

“Excuse me.” Mitch’s voice sounds behind you as you feel a large hand rest on your shoulder. “I’d like to dance with my girl.” 

You allow Mitch to lead you to the dance floor and you eagerly step into his embrace as he holds you for a slow song. “I should’ve known he’d try something.” Mitch murmurs in your ear. 

“It’s fine.” You insist. “I’m fine.” 

“Y/n, if you just told your brother…” 

“They’ve been friends just as long as you and I have.” You tell him. “I don’t want to come between them.” 

Mitch rests his chin on the top of your head as the two of you sway back and forth. “If your brother knew the way Jake treated you he wouldn’t want to be his friend.” You rest your head on his shoulder. Deep down, you’re not so sure that that’s true. Your brother and Jake have always been close. Sometimes you wonder if he knew how awful Jake was to his girlfriends. 

As the night continues and Mitch gets more alcohol inside of him, he starts losing pieces of his outfit. First it’s the suit jacket, and then his tie. On his third trip back from the bathroom he’s missing his belt. 

“Looks like you’re going to have your hands full tonight.” Your sister in law jokes as Mitch attempts to grind on you. “He can’t keep his hands off of you.��

You blush as you wrap your arms around his neck. “He’s affectionate enough without alcohol.” You laugh. Deep down you love how handsy he is, but he doesn’t need to know that right at this moment. 

“You look beautiful tonight, y/n/n.” Mitch whispers in your ear as you dance together. He keeps you close to him all night, spinning you around the dance floor and kissing your forehead or cheeks any chance he gets. 

When you finally decide to call it a night, Mitch holds your hand and skips to your car. “You should drink, I drove.” He tells you as he opens the driver side door for you. 

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “I will drive, yes. Can you get in the car okay?” 

“Yeah, watch!” Mitch happily sprints around your car and opens the passenger door, effectively hitting himself in the face. “Shit.” 

“Oh my god, Mitchy.” You run around the car and place your hands on his face as you inspect him for any blood. “Are you okay?” 

He gives you a dopey grin. “I’m fine now that you’re here.” 

You roll your eyes and help him up. “C’mon let's get you home.” Once he’s safely in the car you get in the driver’s seat. 

As you drive, Mitch sings along with the radio and you fall in love with him even more as he sings your favorite song to you. “You know, this would be a perfect wedding song.” He tells you seriously. 

“Oh yeah?” You laugh as you glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “First dance or walk down the aisle?” 

“First dance for sure.” He smiles at you. “You’d look so good in a wedding dress.” Your heart soars as Mitch continues to talk about what he would do for his hypothetical wedding. 

When you pull into his driveway, he slumps in his seat. “Do you need help?” You ask as you’re already reaching over to undo his seatbelt. 

“No, I'm just not ready for this night to end.” He turns his head toward you and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you. “Thanks for letting me be your fake date tonight.” 

Reality washes over you as you watch your best friend reach for the door handle. You consider admitting your feelings to him for a moment but decide that it’s not the right time. It never is. “Of course, Mitchy. Thanks for coming with me tonight.”

He reaches over to boop your nose with his finger before he opens the door. “I’ll always be here for you.” He gets out of the car and gives you a little wave. “Good night, y/n.” 

“Good night.” You reply before he shuts the door and starts walking toward his front door. “I love you.” 

[averagejoesolomon]

In light of, uh, recent news I'd like to present a slice of comfort. Please enjoy a couple thousand words of a man written by a woman. The book agent hunt is going well, so I may not be back until the later end of December, but here's a little treat to get you through the wait.

The Cameron-Morgan Wedding (1987)

“Shit.”

Matt’s bow tie droops during the first few notes of the Canon. With a glance down his front, he spots one end hanging lower than it should, slipped through the neat little knot at the crest of his collar and somehow fraying into messy, tattered strands.

This never would have happened if Rachel had done it, the way she always does up his bow ties. She’s good luck. But Abby had been insistent that he not see the bride before the ceremony and notably, Abby ain’t of any help now. Her eyes widen across the way, both of them knowing that Rachel has planned this moment down to second, down to the step, down to the snap of the photographer’s shutter. She has a comprehensive list of every last shot she expects to capture and none of them include a busted up bow tie.

Thankfully, the photographers ain’t looking at him. No one is. As the stringed quintet fills the grand atrium with the classic tune, all 342 attendees take their cue to stand and turn toward the bride. Matt can’t make out any details from his place at the end of a long aisle, but he doesn’t need to. She takes up all the air in the room. She fills it from wall-to-wall, balcony-to-balcony, stack-to-stack-to-stack. The George Peabody Library has 300,000 books and fifteen-hundred first editions, but it’s never felt as full as it does when Rachel Cameron walks through its doors, dressed all in white.

And Matt refuses to look like this, when she looks like that. “Joe.”

“Keep your cool, cowboy.”

Joe’s already at his front, pulling the bow tie from Matt’s neck with the same sort of precision he pulls a trigger. He tucks this into his jacket pocket, right next to the rings, then unloops the half-Windsor around his own neck. Matt’s collar is popped, in a way Rachel explicitly prohibited when he asked months before, but Joe makes quick work of wrapping the new tie into place, tying it into a neat knot, then tucking Matt’s collar back into place. It’s not a bow tie, but it’ll do.

Joe takes his place at Matt’s back once more, tie-less and without enough time to redo his top button before the room turns slowly toward the towering floral wedding arch. Rachel’s halfway down the aisle when Matt looks back up and, not for the first time in their lives, her beauty strikes him straight on.

She’s a fresh snowfall on Christmas Eve. She’s the crystalline frost on the window, catching rays of winter sunlight. She’s angelic. She’s godly. She’s divine.

On her arm, Henry locks eyes with Matt and mimes a subtle tuck into the front of his suit jacket. With a quick glance, Matt realizes the tail of his tie hangs free and quickly tucks it behind his buttons, just in time for the photographer to snap a picture.

_____

The George Peabody Library is the sort of place where a woman like Rachel Cameron deserves to get married, even if she is marrying a farm boy from Nebraska. 

It’s all black-and-white tile, gold-leafed columns, and old wood shelves brimming with books that smell like a stack of newspapers. It’s twinkling lights strung from five stories of intricate iron balconies. It’s low, golden sconces lighting up a crowd of elegant evening wear and it’s a private stringed quintet playing from the second balcony.

This is a prestigious enough event to be covered by the local papers—which is a tricky sort of affair given that half of their attendees are deep in the world of covert intelligence, but Rachel navigates this with ease, and everyone here knows how to dodge a reporter if need be. The invitations had been embossed with real gold, tucked into parchment envelopes sealed with golden wax and addressed to the most important names in Maryland High Society. The governor is in attendance. Both senators. Multiple members of the Secret Service, all of them off-duty, given that the Vice President and Second Lady regretfully declined. Sports stars, and business moguls, and socialites. Rachel Cameron’s wedding is the undisputed event of the season.

Matt forgets about all of this, the moment Rachel smiles up at him.

That’s all it takes. From her, it never takes much. Rachel is made from carefully restrained might, always looking for an avenue to escape. When it finally finds a place to land, it strikes in these dense, controlled bolts of intention, and Matt reckons he could spend a lifetime on the receiving end. One look from her, done up in white, is all it takes to steal him away. To notice her, and only her, even as he stands in a gorgeous venue among a gorgeous crowd.

She’s lace, hand-sewn into her bodice. Satin trailing at her back. There are pearls around her neck, hanging from her ears, wrapped around her wrists. Daisies, daisies, daisies done up in braids, reminding him of the first time he truly met the real and ruthless Rachel. The woman he’s come to love.

It’s them. Only them, right up until the moment Rachel passes her white rose bouquet to Abby and Joe passes a pair of golden rings to Matt. 

Do you, Rachel? “I do.”

Do you, Matthew? “I do.”

Her lips break into a wide smile when they kiss. The strings, and the lights, and the applause all come second to her. _____

As two of Langley’s best and brightest, Matt and Rachel know how to sneak away from a crowd, and they make quick work of it as their cocktail hour comes to a close. The day so far has been a blur of travel, timelines, dresses and ties, and more posed photos than he can count. Finally, finally they find an intimate moment in the chaos, slipping between the fifth-floor stacks appropriately labeled Romantics.

Matt’s only want in the world is to grab her, pull her in close, and steal a moment just for himself. Except his hands are otherwise occupied with two armfuls of satin and lace. “Love of my life,” he says, with some exasperation. “It’s time to change your dress.”

Rachel runs her fingers along the spines of leather-bound books, train trailing as she goes. “Says who?”

“Says you, four hours ago,” he reminds her. “And for the past week. And for the last three months, when you said under no circumstances were you to wear the same dress to dinner that you wore to the ceremony.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she says, scanning the shelves. “Three dresses is a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

It’s a quick and efficient reminder that this is only her second dress of the night, and the two of them will do this all over again with a third, smaller dress moments before the dance floor opens to the room. Matt doesn’t mind. So far, this small sliver of a shared moment is the best part of the best day of his life.  “I do think,” he replies. “And said so, when you were first fitted for them, but I was told it was rude to decline designers when they offer you a free dress. And also, I was outvoted.”

“By Abby.”

“By you and Abby,” Matt says. “And by your dad who, in my book, counts as five votes.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about my father.”

“M’not worried about your father,” he insists. “I’m worried about you, six weeks from now, when we get our photos back and you’re not in the right dress.” “Because you’d never hear the end of it?”

“Because from here on out, it’s my job to make sure you’re never disappointed again.”

Her wandering finger freezes, casting a long shadow through dim library lighting. The golden glow of the stacks hugs her cheekbones, her jaw, her neck as she tosses a glance over her shoulder. “You really are very sweet, you know.”

He shrugs, and the movement brings fifteen pounds of fabric with it. Arms growing tired, he hangs Gown Number Two from one of the shelves, in a way that would almost certainly make a librarian cringe. “I’m a catch,” he agrees. “Now please let me put this dress on you.”

She studies him, in that harsh, glaring way only she can. He’s come to love that glare. He married her for that glare. He must have seen this exact look a hundred times over and he’ll probably see it a thousand times more—but never again from Rachel Cameron. No sir. Her severity belongs to Rachel Morgan now.

Maybe she feels the shift too, because she softens and nods, collecting her cascading curls to pull them over her shoulder. Her back is exposed, shoulder blades sitting just along a lace seam and casting a shadow like wings. 

Dress Number One is held in place by no less than twenty individual buttons, so he doesn’t waste a breath. He meets Rachel at her back, methodically unlooping one satin button after another, the fabric smooth and stiff along his thumbprint. Inch by inch, the corset falls away and he spots another layer of buttons as he goes—but these ones can’t come undone. These buttons are bright and red, pressed into her skin, following the lines along her back. A full wedding day, etched into her spine, promising to stay through the evening.

He lets his touch linger along the ridges, confirming their phantom existence, and Rachel’s shoulders melt.  She lets go of a breath that she’s been holding all night.

“The poets were wrong,” she says.

With the last button undone, her dress drops into a puffy puddle, wrung around her ankles and revealing the silk slip she wears below. He catches a preview of the garter he’ll remove later, holding up sheer white stockings that stretch to her thigh, then takes her hand to hold her steady. “About what?”

She steps out of the ivory pile, landing square at his front. Her gaze cranes upward when she says, “About love,” she says, surrounded by Keats, and Shelley, and Byron, and Blake. “About how it feels.”

Dress Number One is left abandoned on the tile, while Matt dutifully fetches Dress Number Two. This one trades buttons for ribbons and he helps her step into it before lacing her up. “Is that right?”

He threads and pulls at silk, relishing in the fact that he’ll get to undo these same knots later. Rachel glances over her shoulder once more and says, “I’ve never read a single sonnet that made me feel the way I feel with you.”

And it ain’t fair, the way she looks at him. Like she’s somehow known the whole time. Like she knows everything, and he’s got a lot of catching up to do. Fine, then. He’s more than happy to make up for lost time, and he starts with a kiss—not their first as husband and wife, but certainly their best so far, with plenty more to follow.

They’re late to dinner, but Rachel Morgan seems to glow when she finally enters the ballroom in her second gown of the night. The room cheers, Abby gives a speech, and Matt’s pops says a prayer before dinner.

_____

“Dance with me.”

“Not much of a dancer.”

“You’ll dance with me, though.”

When it comes to Abigail Cameron, there’s not much Matt won’t do. Unfortunately, no one knows this better than Abby herself. She’s smiling that monumental smile of hers, hands falling to either side of his lapel as she steps into time and pulls him right along with her. Together they fall into the sway of an Elton John song, not quite a ballad, not quite rock and roll.

Their practiced ballroom steps feel familiar after spending so much time dancing across the world. “This is the part,” she says, “where you tell me how pretty I look.”

“You do,” he says, and he means it. He’s always thought so, since she first strutted into his life. She’s a good looking girl in a good looking dress, every part of her carefully curated to draw the eye. “I like the dress.”

“It has pockets,” she points out.

“Very handy,” he says.

“Matt, we’re family now,” she says. “You’re going to have to get more excited about my dress pockets. It’s what family does.”

With nothing more than the shape of her step, Matt senses a twirl coming on and he sets her up with ease. He spins her not just once, but twice, because Abby always likes to go for a little extra flair. “We’ve been family for a while now, I think,” he says, pulling her back into their shared frame. “I think you knew, even back then.”

“Back when you were a true-blue farm boy who’d never seen a woman before?” she says with a doting look. “I’ll take credit for a lot, but I can’t take credit for that one. Truth be told, I expected to burn through you as quickly as I burned through all the others. I had no idea what you’d eventually mean to me. To her.”

Abby doesn’t say her name, but even so, Matt can’t help but glance toward Rachel, standing on the far side of the room and chatting with the Secretary of Transportation. The whole night has been like that—finding Rachel, wherever she may be. Landing on her. Lingering.

It must be the same for her because she turns, as though she feels his eyes on her. Catches his glance. Beams.

“When was it?” he asks, prying his eyes back toward Abby. “When did you know?”

Abby studies him, debating. Matt is trusted with Pentagon secrets and espionage of the highest international order, but still she searches his features as though she’s not quite sure he’s ready to hear the truth. “Long before either of you,” she says. “That’s for sure.”

“Abby—”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have a sisterly duty to uphold a longstanding tradition between bridesmaids and groomsmen.”

“There’s only one groomsman,” Matt reminds her. “And it’s Joe.”

“Isn’t that interesting?”

“When did you know?” he tries again, grabbing hold of her arm before she can step away, and again, she holds her tongue. Tests the answer in her head.

Finally, she lets a softer smile slip. “The first time you called her, instead of calling me.”

There’s something bittersweet in her tone, which Matt only hears because it’s Abby. He’s known her longer than just about anyone here, enough to know that she wants to be wanted. That she stands with the sort of confidence that comes from other people, rather than someplace deep within herself. For Abby, Matt is the one who got away—not in the traditional sense, but rather, in the sense that Matt stopped needing Abby before she stopped needing him. 

Him, getting away from her. What a world.

So he says, with a smile all his own, “Thank you for trying to burn me, way back when.”

She tuts, a manicured hand reaching toward his cheek where she leaves two farewell pats. “Anytime, hot stuff.”

From the surrounding speakers, Elton John turns to Cindy Lauper. Matt is quickly left in the dust as Abby squeals, turns toward Rachel, and races across the room to pull her onto the dance floor next. The two of them find the center of a dance circle made entirely of women, screaming along to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” 

_____

Matt slides a glass of good scotch across a bar top. “Thanks again,” he says, “for flying my folks out.”

Henry Cameron catches the scotch at the bar’s end. He doesn’t spare a glance for it, too caught up in watching his girls dance. “A mother should get to see her only son’s wedding,” he says. “And your mother, in particular, is a delight—is it possible my guest room is somehow cleaner than it was the day she arrived?”

“Yessir, that’ll be my mama,” Matt says, ordering a glass of scotch for himself. “I appreciate the accommodations.”

“She may stay as long as she likes,” he says. “And your father was asking about some of the memorials. I thought I might take them downtown while they’re here, if that’s alright with you?”

His parents have a three-week stretch in DC and while he knew the Cameron Estate would take good care of them, he never expected the man of the house to personally show them the sights. “Yeah,” he says, a little too quickly. “Yes, absolutely—you should know, though, that my pops has a hard time walking long distances. He won’t say anything about it, but he’s had a limp since he first came home and he’s never managed to shake it. And my mama—”

Henry lifts a single hand, finally shifting his gaze to Matt. “Rest assured they’ll be well taken care of while you’re away,” he says. “I have a connection or two, when it comes to touring the Mall.”

Matt’s got no doubt. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Henry over the past few years, it’s that he has a connection for everything. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you.”

Henry’s attention falls back to his girls. The space between them seems to grow as Matt runs out of words, opting instead to take a sip from his drink as it arrives. Their relationship begins and ends with the Circle of Cavan, and this hardly seems like the time to talk strategy.

“I suppose it’s the least I can do,” Henry finally says. “You make my girls happy, and for that I owe you a great deal.”

Matt follows his look across the dance floor to find the sisters now dancing arm-in-arm to a ballad, talking and giggling through the slow waltzy rhythm. Rachel swipes dirt from Abby’s dress. Abby fixes one of Rachel’s wayward daisies. They both laugh at a joke Matt can’t hear from this far away. “They make me better,” he admits. “They’ve taken care of me. And I reckon it’s my turn to take care of them.”

Henry nods, in that sage way he passed along to his eldest. “I know that,” he says. “I know you’re going to try, anyway.”

This catches his ear. “Try, sir?”

Henry sips back the last of his drink, letting the glass land hallow on the bar. “Have you given any thought to how you’re going to keep your lives separate?” he asks. “Your life with her”—he casts a glance toward Rachel, then swiftly shifts towards Joe—”versus your life with him?”

Little does Henry know, Matt’s been asking this same question since stitching up Joe in an Italian bathroom, but he’s right. Matt feels it, too. There’s a disconnect between his dreams—between wanting to keep Joe out of his past, and diving straight into a future with Rachel. No matter how many times Matt turns the options over in his head, they end up overlapping. “Every night,” Matt tells him. “Right after I close my eyes, and just before I fall asleep.”

Familiarity creeps into Henry’s expression, and Matt can’t tell if that’s a good thing. “That feeling,” he says, “never, ever goes away.”

For years, Henry has served as Matt’s barometer for what this case can do to good men after chasing it for a very long time. By and large, all those extra years come with benefits—contacts, authority, expertise. But every so often, Matt spots a shadow below Henry’s eyes, signaling some bone-deep exhaustion that feels more and more inevitable every time Matt sees it.

“Promise me this,” says Henry. “Promise me that no matter how long this goes, no matter how close you get—you prioritize her. You make sure she’s safe, above all else.”

Matt considers this. Nods once, definitive. Seems like a fair enough request. Taking the final sip from his own glass, Matt promises, “‘Til death do us part.”

_____

“You know,” says Matt, voice raised over the roar of turbine engines. “My pops gave me all kinds of grief about taking a private jet.”

“What’s the matter?” Rachel calls back. “Haven’t the people of Lake Hayfield ever seen a private plane?”

“I dunno about Lake Hayfield,” says Matt, taking her roller bag to carry up the steps. “But I’ll tell you what, the people of Hay Springs sure haven’t.” 

In a career where jetsetting and globetrotting are commonplace, the only real vacation is spent at home among familiar sights, sounds, and textures. Rather than spend their honeymoon looking over their shoulders in a foreign country, Matt and Rachel decide to keep things domestic, where they can afford to be entirely single-minded about the next few weeks. Someplace safe. Someplace they don’t have to think about.

The apartment, they decided, was out of the question. While Joe may be a discrete and quiet roommate, Matt intends to do some downright indiscreet things to Rachel that will make her anything but quiet. And because he also has no desire to do so under Henry Cameron’s roof, her place was booted off the list just as quickly. 

“Your father’s flown private before, hasn’t he?” she asks.

Matt doesn’t know how to break it to her, that normal people don’t ever see the inside of a private jet. “Not unless you count an Army flier.”

This sends her lips into a puzzled frown, and Matt just wants to kiss them straight.

After some back-and-forth, Matt convinced his folks to spare the one and only home he’s got left. It’s a trade, of sorts. His parents finally make a long-awaited trip to DC, courtesy of the Cameron Estate, while he and Rachel take the ranch. All he had to do was promise to watch the wheat and let the animals out every morning.

Rachel was less enthusiastic about the animals, but Matt’s certain she’ll come around when she sees the first sunset across the plains.

“We should send him back on the jet,” Rachel offers.

“I love you,” he says, “but my pops would sooner die than show up back home in one of these things.”

Matt’s only proven right when he steps into the cabin, finished with fine woods and leathers. A bottle of Champagne waits for them on ice, the label written in French and the vintage starting with an eighteen. The smell of steak fills the air, which is a relief to his grumbling stomach because even though he paid for most of the wedding food, he somehow didn’t eat much of it. It’s the last taste of luxury they’ll have for the next few weeks, so he vows to enjoy every second of it.

He stows her bag, then his. Pops the Champagne, then pours both of them a glass. She holds out her flute toward his, crystal chiming as their glasses clink, and they sip. Take a breath. With the taste of grapes on his lips, he kisses her the same way he has all night, just so damn lucky to be here.

“You know,” he says, barely pulling away. “I’ve always wondered—”

“Matthew,” she scolds.

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

She falls into her seat, digging for the buckle to strap herself in. There’s a subtle edge to her foreboding glance. The one that begs him to challenge her. “You didn’t have to,” she says. “It’s an eight hour flight. We can wait.”

“I’m not saying we have to go for the home run,” he teases, dropping to his place just at her front, down on his knees for her, just as he always seems to be. “Just that if you let me warm up my throwing arm now, I might be able to pitch a perfect game later.”

She laughs, short and haughty and delighted. Her hand falls into his hair, scratching warm streaks into his scalp. “You hate pitchers,” she reminds him.

“I’ve got a third-base metaphor I could use instead.”

“Matthew.”

“Alright, alright,” he says. She’s still wearing her final dress, the shortest of the three. It was made for dancing, and the alternative benefits are a nice bonus. “I can scrounge up a golf metaphor instead.”

“You,” she says, taking another sip of Champagne, “are a smartmouth.”

“Agreed,” he says, just as his fingertips find the lace on her stockings. His lips follow close behind, landing along the hem as his wide eyes search for her answering smile. “So how about we see what else my mouth can do, hmm?”

Another laugh. A lifetime of her laugh. It sends his stomach twisting in all the best ways.

Two of her fingers find his chin, lifting his head up to look at her properly. “Buckle up, so we can take off,” she tells him. “And when we’re in the air, you can help me get this dress off. Fair?”

Now it’s his turn to smile, but he doesn’t hold it long before Rachel’s lips are on his, a smile of her own sneaking in.

[clarabowmp3]

here's what I love about loml: the melody and lyrics fit together so well that nothing sounds clunky, but she's still not compromising on artistic value. in fact, i'd say the shorter lyrics enhance the quality as its just sucker punch after sucker punch. the cadence of most of the song (as per the line fragments) sounds like someone taking short breaths, as if debilitatingly encumbered by emotion. or, if we take it further in the context of the funeral motif, like someone taking their last breaths.

there is this 'duality' (opposites) to the song in sooo many ways: first in the lyrics (never before/never since, one kiss/getting married, alive/cemetery, low-down boy/stand-up guy, all time/momentary, "I'll never leave"/"never mind") then in the first chorus she paints a picture of a wedding but its almost unnervingly unclear because of all the funeral diction (cemetery, killing time, (holy) ghost). as the song shifts from 'love' to 'loss,' the wedding image gets juxtaposed by one of a funeral, and YET there are parts where the two blur together (suit and tie, at some point that glow starts to feel like a hole) -> which I feel so perfectly represents the tension in that relationship where there is such a fine line separating the two harsh extremes.

even as the duality starts to dissolve past the first chorus (more emphasis on the 'loss' --> con man, get-love-quick scheme (scam), hole), the tender melody and pleasingly smooth vocals remain which creates this unsettling effect since that quiet peace has been flipped on its head to be turned into this quiet devastation. taking it one step further, the fact that this song is phrased to be written completely in hindsight (past tense throughout) it makes the quiet unassuming joy the speaker gets from their fictional wedding feel even more tragic.

by the time we get to the second chorus there is minimal ambiguity in her tone, it is 100% fully one of mourning and bordering on anger (as seen in the bridge). even in her contemptuous 'Mr. Steal Your Girl,' she follows it up with how hurt she feels over him calling her the love of his life as if she can't even be properly/fully angry at this person. in fact, that line is at the end of the chorus, almost symbolising how she can feel as angry as she wants at him, but despite all that there's this underlying grief and despair over his inability to follow through with his love-of-his-life promises. as the message gets clearer, the message/feeling of the song hits harder as there is less confusion or ambiguity.

in the bridge, there's this fantastical image of 'dancing phantoms' which reignites that confusion in the song with the added instability from the sinister image of the phantoms, plus the cadence of the song increases, she's talking faster now and there's less 'empty room,' indicating more pointed/stronger emotion. with the song's tone of this bone-deep grief, the 'terrace' might be a very very subtle nod to suicidal ideation, emphasis on the might. throughout the song she rattles btw love and loss, so this sudden suggestion that it was 'counterfeit' casts doubt on the validity of her emotions in the first place.

here we also start to move past from the duality as indicated by the three tiers of legendary -> momentary -> unnecessary, as if she is washing her hands of the whole affair ('should've let it STAY BURIED'). this lyric also indicates her moving past the duality as letting something stay buried implies that it has already been buried, ie its 'funeral' has passed, and the funeral motif was used as part of the duality representation from earlier.

anyways all this to say for most of the reasons above ^^ this song also gives me STRONG corpse bride vibes of which i made an edit here if anyone's interested :)

[topnotchquark]

hi! I'd love to read more about your boarding school AU! only if you have something in mind of course.

safe travel! <3

Love you anon, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hadn't written anything for a while, but here's a fic I just wrote in my notes app for you. It's Bezz/cele mostly. Kiss kiss hope you enjoy even though it's whatever! 💗💗

---

Pecco shows up a little late at dinnertime and delivers the news as he pulls a chair next to Franky.

"Apparently it's picture day tomorrow for the team, around 11." Pecco announces as he pours himself a glass of water.

"Why are they rushing it?" Bezz asks from where he's sitting next to Cele.

"They want to get it done before the principal travels for his guest lectures and we leave for the regionals" Luca responds on Pecco's behalf who nods in his direction.

"What are we expected to wear?" Franky inquires.

"The whole shebang. Suit and tie and winter trousers." Pecco's response immediately makes Franky and Bezz groan in protest.

"I don't even have a pressed shirt." Luca remarks.

"You can borrow one of mine." Pecco tells him.

---

After dinner Bezz accompanies Cele to the infirmary to get his bandages changed. Cele had cut his palm open in a lab mishap. The nurses had stitched it up fine, but recovery was chugging along. Bezz has been helping him since then, always coming to see him after classes, and sitting next to him during meals to ensure he ate.

On the walk back to the residences, Cele quickly makes a mental checklist of whether he has his full uniform ready for tomorrow.

"Why are you so quiet?" Bezz asks him as they cut through the lawns in the dark.

"Thinking about where my clothes are."

"I'll help you find them."

"No that's fine Marco. I'm just worried about washing my hair."

"Because of your hand?" Bezz asks.

"Yes. Bathing is already difficult"

"I could.... I could help." Bezz speaks after a moment, an edge to his voice.

"Okay, thank you." Cele nods in response to Bezz's offer.

---

Bezz and Cele are the only two people in the the dorm bathrooms at this hour. The halogen lights makes a buzzing noise as they stand there confused.

"Right, umm, how do we do this." Bezz asks to no one in particular.

"The sinks seem fine. I'll bend over." Cele responds, not quite sure of himself.

"Alright yeah. Wait." Bezz says as he wraps a small plastic bag around Cele's bandaged hand to keep it dry.

Cele lets Bezz securely tie the bag around his wrist and bends himself so his neck and face hand into the sink.

Bezz accidentally turns the tap on full speed, soaking the collar and back of Cele's t shirt.

"Fuck shit" he remarks as he quickly shuts off the water.

"Cele I think it would be better if you took your t shirt off." Bezz tells him.

Cele stands up straight and struggles to get his wet tshirt off with one hand. Bezz immediately closes the gap between them and grabs the bottom of his tshirt and gently tugs it upwards. He looks at the broad expanse of his pale body, the veins under his skin looking blue under the harsh lights. Bezz gulps as he frees Cele's head from the collar of the fabric, taking extra care to gently loop it out of his injured hand. Cele's familiar body looked alien to him at this odd hour in these odd circumstances.

Cele bends over once again and sticks his neck into the sink. Bezz manoeuvres the tap better this time. Cele feels warm water on the nape of his neck. It flows down his scalp in little rivulets that makes him feel like he's getting goosebumps. Bezz gently eases his fingers into his hair. The dull ends of his fingers on the skin behind his ears. Cele can't describe the feeling. It feels pleasantly relaxing, but also like being on a rollercoaster when it's dropping down. Bezz squeezes some shampoo into his hair and quickly massages it into a lather. Bezz's fingers snag on his tangled curls as he cleans him. The pinching, sharp sensation on his scalp feels like it's running down Cele's shoulder and making his stomach feel like it's in freefall. Bezz rinses him and takes the care to clean the foam around his ears. Afterwards, he uses a towel to gently dry him off and drops him off to his dorms.

---

Cele runs to the lawns to make it in time for the picture. Pecco and Luca are there, waiting for another group to get done before they assemble. Luca looks at Cele and tells him to fix his collar, Pecco smiles and reaches over to fix it for him. When they finally line up, Bezz comes over to stand next to Cele, and ruffles his curls before the picture is taken.

[hihimissamericanbi]

#5

Have I written academically on 19th-century medical demonstrations as performance? Yes, I have.

Drarry, because that's shared our thing.

Bonus points if you can work in the phrase: "cries out for the sex baton in words devoid of any metaphor."

(That is an actual description from one of Charcot's medical demonstrations. Yep.)

(Also thank you to @wolfpadx for tagging me in the original version of this. I'm only capable of focusing on one story at a time so I don't have any WIPs either.)

Sigh. Only for you, babe. Everyone else: proceed with caution. This is the Exhibition Kink to end all Exhibition Kinks. I truly have nothing to say for myself, except turn your trauma into kink ig.

(from this prompt) 5. Medical examiner/surgery theater viewing thingie but at a kink club.

I present to you, Harry Potter and the Sex Baton:

Okay so Draco and Harry run into each other at a magical kink club and reconnect. They begin playing together, lots of chemistry, find that they are really into this one idea no one has quite done so they give it a go. They do some smaller test scenes with just friends/trusted people from the club first, and then they are ready for the Big Performance. They are being featured at the club that weekend, there's been lots of publicity around it.

"The Chosen Hole. Savior of the Wizarding Wank. The Boy Who Lived to Fuck" (EDITOR'S NOTE someone please come up with something better than this i beg you). The invite list is strict and requires vetting by both Harry and Draco. It's important the only people attending truly want to see this and are sex-positive, kink-educated. No one there to actually mock or be cruel.

And here is the scene:

Harry is on some sort of observational stage with 360 views. Theater in the round, if you will. I'd love for it to be like an amphitheater so it feel more like a lecture or a demonstration, where the audience is situated higher than the performers.

Harry is there, on his knees, naked, waiting, tied up and blindfolded, hard, leaking, flushed. Clearly desperate. Behind him is a table spread out with various intimidating looking magical objects and tools. As people file in, they are encouraged to take pictures, make observations and notes as they get settled, discuss with one another what they are seeing. Sounds of low murmuring, gentle, sultry music, a few quiet whistles of disbelief, the general ~vibe~ where you know people are leering. Staring.

Then the house lights dim, the spotlight comes on, and the demonstration begins. Draco enters wearing (insert your preferred fantasy outfit here. Daddy leather? A clean white lab coat? Casual, sexy muggle attire-- a suit no tie, perhaps?). Draco welcomes everyone and is pleased to demonstrate Just What a Desperate Slutty Whore Harry James Potter is. Harry wants to show everyone so badly, "Don't you, baby?"

"Yes sir, please let me show them."

So Draco proceeds to tease and edge and do all manners of filthy things to Harry Potter in front of this audience. The tone from Draco is very calm, in charge, a little neutral/removed, like he isn't being affected at all while Harry is getting messier and messier. Use your imagination here:

We can start with just letting Harry touch himself. Draco unties just his wrists, directs him to wank himself off in front of all these people who are here to see just how badly he wants it. Obviously lots of praise talk, dirty talk, orgasm control.

At some point, of course, there will be instructions to turn around, bend over, spread yourself, stick your fingers inside, show everyone how good your hole takes your own fucking fingers. We can start getting some tools and toys involved, like a dildo that magically increases in size incrementally on every thrust so everyone can see his hole getting more and more stretched. Lots of magical lube/oil, so everything is wet and glistening.

Just because Draco isn't all hot and bothered and slutty like Harry, doesn't mean he doesn't get to have any fun. There will be plenty demonstrations of how good Harry takes it: how good he takes cock in every hole, how he drinks and licks every drop of come spent like it's fucking ice cream and begs for more, bends to every one of Draco's commands, performs every requested sex act with such enthusiasm, takes everything Draco gives him, one bit at a time, as Draco is talking it all through to the audience. He's telling them how harry feels around him, how his arse tastes, what sounds he makes when Draco touches him here vs. there, etc. etc. Turning Harry this way and that, showing off parts of his body, making Harry expose himself to an entire room full of people who want to see it, all at Draco's will.

For the grand finale, Draco has a special tool he made just for Harry. He makes a big show of taking it out, showing it to the audience, really hyping it up. Harry is still blindfolded, has no idea what it is, until suddenly something cool and buzzing touches him and he explodes, immediately, come shooting out of him and his arse spasming in an orgasm that hits from both parts of him. He's gasping, dazed, wondering what just happened, and then he's poked again---

and he orgasms again.

"Forgive the crude phrasing, but I simply call it the sex baton. A single touch forces the subject to climax immediately. The really interesting thing, here, though---" and he gently strokes the tool down harry's flank, watches as harry screams and comes and comes and comes as long at the tool is in contact with his skin---"is that it completely bypasses any refractory period the human body usually needs." Draco pulls the sex baton away. "As you can see demonstrated here, if it touches skin---" he pokes harry again, setting off a fresh round of screaming and convulsing---"the subject will be helpless not to orgasm."

Harry is panting and half-slumped over and exhausted and covered in come.

"Shall we see what happens when we insert the sex baton into our subject's greedy little hole... and leave it there?"

A murmur of agreement from the audience.

"Harry? What do you think?"

Only then, Harry cries out for the sex baton in words devoid of any metaphor. (HA I DID IT EMERY!!)

So Draco calmly directs Harry until he is face down, arse up, legs spread, and without warning plunges the sex baton into his arse. Harry is left on stage gasping, voice too far gone to scream, and drenching himself in come, the magic of the baton replenishing his supply of seed endlessly. He's left there spurting over and over into this puddle he is laying in, as Draco takes his bow and the lights fade. The audience erupts into wild, enthusiastic applause.

They love it.

The love him.

BONUS: backstage pass where you can interact directly with the Whore Who Lived following the demonstration. Draco will guide observers through one-on-one interactions in small groups, encouraging touches and feels where he knows Harry will like, allowing them to masturbate to/on Harry, lets them discuss him and ask questions about him to Draco.

Okay i need to stop. There is more where this came from (and came and came and came...)

Please don't break up with me.

[scarlet--wiccan]

Is there someone you'd want Wanda to team up with ever seriously or just for fun? Like an old friend or someone she's never met before, but who you'd think be a fun/interesting duo

I've been saying for years that I want Wanda to become unlikely friends with Amora the Enchantress. Between Strange Academy and Captain Marvel, Amora went through a lot of really difficult experiences with motherhood in a very short period of time, and I think that Wanda would be able to connect with her really well. Beyond that, I'd really like to revive Wanda's friendships with Monica and Janet, since she barely ever gets to spend time with either of them any more, and I'd actually really like for her to get some closure with Jennifer Walters. Rowell's She-Hulk repeatedly alluded to Jen's traumatic experience in Disassembled, especially once Jack was back in the picture, and I would like to see that come full circle.

I'm not sure where Moon Knight is heading from here, but I think Wanda would really appreciate what Marc was doing with the Midnight Mission. I'd like to give Wanda more opportunities to interact with vampires and werewolves, specifically as somebody who is uniquely able to offer aid, both magical and diplomatic, to their communities. Teaming up with Marc or Reese would be a great way to tie her into that scene.

Similarly, I think it would make a lot of sense for Wanda to check in with Blade post-Blood Hunt. With her connection to the Darkhold, she's probably the best suited to assess his condition and help him with healing or recovery, if he needs it. It would also be cool for Wanda to pop into Avengers Academy to check up on Brielle and Justin and answer any questions they might have about their respective magical issues. I think they'd both feel more comfortable around her or Jericho than Stephen.

Speaking of students, I would really like to see more of Wanda in Strange Academy. Besides the fact that I want her to have more page-time with Jericho, I loved her and Eva together Scarlet Witch #9, and I obviously would like to loop her back into the Darkhold child storyline. I'd also like to expand on the historical coven connections between Nico and Zoe and I think that Wanda could easily be a part of that.

[count-alucard-tepes]

An unexpected date...part 3 (Rolon/Lolong Donaire)🎖

Part 1

Part 2

As promised, Rolon picked Y/N up from the hotel they were staying in this time with a fancy sports car. He got out of the car and was all decked out in a black suit, with a matching tie and shirt.

He really went all out to look fancy tonight because he was going with Y/N otherwise, he wouldn't really put in the effort. Rolon headed inside to meet Y/N and when the elevator doors opened, he smiled at the sight of them, "...you look beautiful", he said as he went to meet them half way and gently pressed a kiss on their forehead.

Y/N smiled and wrapped their arms around him, "...look at you, Mr Donaire...I love this on you and you smell really good".

Rolon couldn't help but blush in response, he wasn't used of getting compliments on his looks, let alone from someone who he was interested in, "...I tried my best to clean up well for you", he said gently before lacing his fingers with theirs and headed out to the car.

"Nice car...", Y/N said with a smile as Rolon held the door open for them.

"...another one of my creature comforts...nice vehicles", he replied with a weak smile as he closed the door once they were in.

He got into the driver's seat, making sure Y/N had their seatbelt on before he put on his and then began driving to the location of the party. He clearly was very caring with all his little acts of service and it truly didn't go unnoticed by Y/N.

"Where do you currently live since you're in a hotel right now? Not in Tokyo?", he asked gently.

"Right now I live with my parents in Osaka but I'd have to to Tokyo for my career soon enough...", Y/N said gently.

"How do you feel about that?", he asked out of curiosity as he used his free hand to lace his fingers with theirs.

"...I'm excited since I had never lived by own before...but nervous since it's going to be a big change for me", Y/N said gently as they squeezed his hand and played with his fingers.

"You make many friends here...and I'll be here too", he said with a reassuring smile.

Rolon couldn't help but want to see where there would go with them, sure it was just a few weeks but it didn't hurt to try and see the bigger picture in view. He hadn't been in a relationship in a very long relationship and even though he was open to the idea, not many caught his attention until now...and he was not about to let this opportunity of having a life partner slip through his fingers. If there was one thing he knew...is that you fight for whatever you want whether literally or figuratively.

Y/N looked over at him and smiled with comforted eyes, "...you're so cute, Rolon...thank you, I really appreciate it...".

"Of course...", he said gently as he took their intertwined hands and kissed Y/N's fingers.

Once they arrived, the valet opened the door for Y/N and Rolon came to take them inside. Y/N laced their fingers with his and walked inside with them.

"There's my beautiful star!", Todoya said before making his way over to Rolon and Y/N. He kissed Y/N on both cheeks and smiled confidently, "You look amazing! I'm glad Rolon brought you here safely", he chuckled.

"Wait?! What?! Rolon...and Y/N?! What the fuck is going on!!", Liu said in shock as Fei's eye twitched, "...how the hell did that happen...bet Todoya had something to do with it for a PR stunt".

"You know what you're feeling right now....we can that jealousy", Arashiyama said from behind the two young men.

"I agree with Arashiyama...there's more than enough beautiful people here to mingle with...let Rolon live for once...", Carlos Medel said as he went to mingle with some beautiful ladies who caught his attention.

Todoya immediately had the photographer take photographs with him and Y/N but Rolon stayed out of them as he was not someone who liked being in the public eye often. He got drinks for him and Y/N and waited patiently until they were free.

"I'm sorry about that...I didn't think he would let me go", Y/N said smiling weakly as they finally joined Rolon.

"Don't worry about it, Todoya has always been like this...I got you a drink", he said gently as he offered it to them.

"You're the best", Y/N said with a smile before taking it and having a sip.

Todoya would start the pre-drinks event, "Welcome, my dear friends and colleagues! Finally the time has come for our annual event to take place and I cannot express how excited I am to host this years event! Here are our gladiators!", he said as he gestured to the screen that showed all the gladiators and many were cheered on. Y/N made sure to cheer especially for Rolon who just looked at them with a smile before he kissed their forehead.

"Now the halftime performance is one of the most anticipated events in it's own right! And this year is no exception!", Todoya said excitedly, "...this year will the chart-topping artist Y/N who will gracing our stage!".

The room roared in cheers and claps which just made Y/N blush even more. Rolon gently rubbed their back with an assuring hand and whispered in their ear, "...you got this, Y/N".

Y/N smiled happily and thanked them before looking over at Rolon, "...does he always do this?".

He chuckled and nodded, "...all the time when there's important people here to entertain".

They would swiftly move to having dinner and the party would be pretty much over...well sort of...Todoya always had a grand after party for the gladiators to enjoy themselves with lots of beautiful women, booze and karaoke.

Rolon and Y/N were done with dinner and Y/N was helping themselves to dessert before gently feeding Rolon some, "...this is good cake", Y/N said with a smile.

"...oh? Let me taste too! Feed me too, Y/N", Fei said leaning down between Rolon and Y/N.

Y/N smiled weakly when she noticed Fei's presence as Rolon glared at him, "...feed yourself, Fei...", he said sternly, clearly a little jealous that the young man would even ask for such.

"...oh but to be fed by a beautiful person is always so much better...you should know, Y/N was just feeding you more seconds ago", Fei said with a smirk as Rolon glared at him.

Liu and Naidan quickly came by, "...that's enough, Fei...you said you were coming here to talk to them not bother them...", Naidan said calmly.

"Yeah yeah...you both coming for the after party?", he asked as Rolon sighed softly. Y/N could already tell this was frustrating Rolon and smiled a little, "I don't know yet...we're still very much enjoying it here, right, Rolon?".

Rolon nodded gently and took Y/N's hand before kissing the back of it in silence.

"...alright, I hope you come, Y/N...we have a real blast there even Arashiyama said he'll join", Liu said gently.

“…we’ll come later if Y/N isn’t tired…”, Rolon finally said so that they’d leave them alone.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little by the audible gasps from the others, clearly this was not something that happened before…Rolon joining them at an after party.

About an hour or so later, Y/N headed out with her arms wrapped around Rolon’s waist and he draped an arm around them, “…we have two options now”, he said as they waited for the valet to bring his car.

“Oh? What are those options, Mr Donaire?”, Y/N asked with a smile.

“My home isn’t far from here, we can go there or we can go to the after party…”, he said gently.

Y/N looked thoughtful for a moment, “…let’s go to the after party and then we can go to yours afterwards…”, Y/N said with a big grin.

He chuckled in response, “…okay, deal”.

The location happened to be at one of the nightclubs Todoya had invested in and was pretty fancy.

Rolon led Y/N inside, hand in hand as he didn’t want to lose them while walking through the numerous people as many were excited to see them both because well…Rolon never attended these.

Todoya was first to come and greet them once again, “Now I did not expect this, Y/N…you managed to bring Rolon all the way here! That’s great, I want both of you to have the best time so enjoy! The boys are at Karaoke! I’ll join you both soon”, he said before going to indulge in the ladies.

“You know I’m starting to think you don’t like to come out at all, Mr Donaire”, Y/N said teasingly as they got their drinks at the bar.

Rolon laughed in response, “It’s not that, I do out every now and then…it’s just not with large crowds…”.

“I’m kind of the same, you know…my friends have to drag me to go out but with promotions…I find myself coming out of my shell more and more”, Y/N admitted.

“There’s nothing wrong with just being at home too, right?”, he asked with a gentle smile as they made their way to the karaoke area.

“No, there isn’t at all”, Y/N said before kissing his cheek.

He blushed a little and opened the door for Y/N before walking in.

There were several duets going on but a few sat out like Arashiyama and Medel who welcomed the pair to sit with them at their table.

“You guys sure know how to have fun…”, Y/N said as they watched the others sing and what not.

“It’s not often we get to relax and let loose with each other…”, Arashiyama said with a small smile.

“Most of us think of each other as enemies once fights have been announced…it’s just how things are…and for us to get our head in the game”, Rolon murmured.

“I see…that’s pretty wild, I have to admit…”, Y/N said with a chuckle as a romantic song had come on and one of the gladiators took the stage to sing.

Medel stood up and offered his hand to Y/N, “Nina Bonita, would you do me the pleasure of dancing with me?”, he asked gently.

Without missing a beat, Y/N took his hand and grinned before dancing with him slowly.

“Looks like Medel stole your date”, Arashiyama said playfully as Rolon smirked.

“…Y/N looks like she’s having fun so I won’t fight him just yet”, he replied as he watched their dance and sipped his drink.

“So you and Rolon Donaire…is it going well, Y/N?”, Medel asked as he moved with them slowly and skillfully, clearly very good at dancing.

“Yes, I very much enjoy his company…he’s so kind, caring and protective…”, Y/N said as they moved with him.

“…yes, a different side that probably no one would see to be honest…”, Medel commented as he dipped Y/N down low, earning a giggle from them before pulling them back up and dancing again.

The pair wouldn’t stay out too long at the after party and would head for Rolon’s home in a pretty quiet area, “…I didn’t want to live too close to the city…it’s so much better here…”, he said gently as he parked his car.

“Yeah…it looks like a nice area to live in”, Y/N said gently before getting out of the car and waited for him to lead the way.

Rolon welcomed them into his home, “…this is my place”, he said gently, “Make yourself at home”.

Y/N smiled and wandered around his home curiously as they wanted to know more about him and what best to find out more than a person’s home, “…you know for a bachelor…you’re really neat”, Y/N complimented before going to his bedroom and laid on the bed.

He walked in and leaned against the doorframe with a smile as he loosened his tie, “…I appreciate it…since it’s pretty late, do you want to stay over? I have a guest bedroom that you can use…so you have your own space”.

Y/N smiled at him as they laid on his bed, “…I’m gonna need to borrow some clothes though”.

Rolon pointed to his closet, “…take whatever you need…bathroom next to the closet…”, he said gently, “…I’ll be in the lounge if you need me”.

He’s take his leave and close the door behind him to give them some privacy. He’d never had a date at his apartment in a while so this was something kind of new for him but he knew how to be polite and that was what mattered. He took off his tie and shirt so that he was only in his white undershirt and dress pants as he watched some tv.

Y/N would shower and then one of Rolon’s oversized shirts and a pair of shorts before going back to him, cuddling close on the couch.

“…better?”, he asked as he draped an arm over them and place a kiss on their temple.

“…yes, Mr Donaire…I also think it’s about time you kiss me on the lips”, Y/N said with a smirk as they nuzzled his jaw.

He chuckled a little in response, “…I was getting there, you know…come here”, he said in a husky tone.

Y/N grinned and leaned up before pressing their lips against his gently at first and then a bit more firmly as they ran their fingers through his hair slowly.

Rolon returned the kiss as he pulled them closer to him before gently pulling away, “…I’d like more of those”, he said with a smirk.

“…oh I know…”, Y/N replied before giving him several more kisses, “…I’m pretty tired by the way…so let’s go to bed but don’t get too excited…nothings happening tonight”.

Rolon chuckled in response and switched off the tv before nodding, “…of course, it’s been a long evening”. He’d follow Y/N to his bedroom and take a quick shower before getting his boxers on. He’d then slip into bed with them and hold them close while they slept.

It was safe to say…Rolon was off the market and so was Y/N.

((I can’t help but think Rolon would just be such a gentleman towards those he cares about😍😍😍 ))

[complexsaviour]

Milgram 4th Anniversary Art Analysis Part 2/3: Haruka, Es and Yuno

Haruka

Haruka's pose sort of reminds me of Mikoto's, but it's a little looser, less organised. Similarly to Mikoto, he doesn't want to come across as a threat — wants to appear open — but he doesn't quite get it right. Like Mikoto and Shidou, his suit is fully done up. His tie is a little loose too, but I'd hazard that it's because he doesn't know how tight it should be, or hasn't noticed. His pose is largely open but one leg is still slightly bent and he's facing sideways — subtly somewhat mirroring Muu's pose, just as he does in his Trial 2 sprite art. I think the way he is holding his bouquet, in front of himself and upside down, mirrors the way he is largely quite open about and accepting of his crime, but also him as a person in the sense that he is blatantly unconventional and takes an unusual and confusing approach to things. The flowers in his bouquet are actively slipping out of it, falling on the floor, but he either doesn't care or hasn't noticed, perhaps reflecting how he has a sort of reckless approach to things and often ends up inadvertently causing damage and chafing against the status quo. He seems to know more or less how he should hold the bouquet but manages to bluntly get it the wrong way around. His hold isn't quite as secure as Mikoto's, though similar — as if he wants to similarly come across as unproblematic but isn't really sure how. He's the only male prisoner smiling with his mouth open, but his smile is sort of uncomfortable and awkward, coming across as more nervous than genuinely at ease. There's a visible small gap in the wrapper of his bouquet, which Amane's also seems to have. This is interesting to me. I'm not entirely sure what it represents...perhaps some sort of metaphorical 'crack' in their lives or their relationships with their victims, since, at least as far as I'm concerned, they were both family members?

Es

Es' demeanour is very much in fitting with their Buddhist monk garb. At first glance I wondered if their hand gesture was perhaps a Buddhist mudra, but it doesn't seem to resemble any in particular that I came across. They are wearing a Japanese Buddhist monk's regalia, complete with yukata and kasaya, as well as traditional tabi-style (thonged) shoes. It's as though they are the officiator of the funeral that everyone is dressed up to attend, which is quite fitting — as, in a way, it's their duty to put the souls of the victims to rest. Meanwhile, I believe Jackalope's outfit is more in line with the attire of a Shinto monk or clergyman. It's sort of hard to tell, but the hat at least is much more in line with Shinto clothing.

Yuno

Yuno's pose is open and relaxed, much like her attitude to her supposed crime. She's been quite open and blunt about it from the start, after all. Her outfit is a tidy school uniform, a lot like what she wore in her first music video. Like Shidou, she holds her bouquet a bit like a baby, similarly very much in view of the spectator and without pretence, but she doesn't seem quite as concerned with trying to properly support its weight as he does, and I think her pose is overall less personal and more detached — like she's only holding the 'baby' in passing. It doesn't feel like she feels any particular tethering to the 'baby' or her supposed crime. Instead, one hand, while still technically supporting the first, also holds her own arm — perhaps as if to unconsciously seek warmth and support for herself — a bit like the way Yuno supports and comforts herself in her Trial 2 music video. This pose also sort of feels to me like her way of perhaps creating a pastiche of how society expects her to be — the gentle and polite picture of a youthful mother which she so adamantly rejects.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 4

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"How do I look?" Trang asked nervously. I was standing in front of the body length mirror, putting the careful finishing touches to my hair. I had done my best to make it shine with Moroccan oil and had put it up in curlers six hours before the wedding. Now, they were hanging down in luscious curls, all flowing down my back. 

My dress, I had designed myself through sketches and then had asked Madam Malkin if it was possible to make. I had chosen a dark green colour and I looked absolutely gorgeous in it. 

I turned now, both to grab the pearl bobby pins for the finishing touch, and also to look at Trang. "You look gorgeous." I said sincerely. 

Her long frame was wrapped in a tight fitting, red dress, that look rather traditional from Vietnam. There was also intricated, gold designs sewed all over the dress, with a tight fitted collar. 

She had pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail, with some of it loose around her face. She had paired it with light makeup, besides the eyes which were dark and made them pop. She looked stunningly pretty. 

"Oliver is going to have a field day." I continued, grinning. She blushed, looking down at the floor. 

"Is the cake done?" Trang asked, changing the subject as she came over, taking the pearl bobby pins to help me with my hair. I'd always been hopeless at this sort of thing. 

"Yes. I put the finishing touches to it today." You said with a bit of a smile. "I think it's a bit. . . different." 

"Oh? Did you make it chocolate icing instead of vanilla?" Trang smirked. 

"No, it's still a white cake and I still did roses." I answered. "But, well it is seven layers Trang. And so I did some not very traditional flavors for a couple of them. Like one is a softer sort of cake and its cookie dough flavored. And I might've baked some very small chocolate chip cookies to act as the leaves for the roses." 

"It sounds delicious." Trang hummed. "Who cares if its not traditional, I just want to eat the whole thing myself now. Thanks, I'll be salivating the entire time." 

"I'm sure Oliver can help you out." I jested and then yelped as she punched my arm. "Sorry!"

"Are we almost ready to go down?" Trang asked, her blush fading a little as she carefully finished the entire outfit off by adding some earrings. 

"We are," I joked, "But Remus is another story." 

I was waiting last minute to dress my baby boy up in his little tux since I knew he probably wasn't going to like the long sleeves in the beginnings of simmering August. But they were the only kind out there and I wanted him to look smart. I was going to take pictures of him and find a way to get them to Severus. 

I hated that Severus was missing out on his sons 'firsts'. He hadn't spoken yet though, so maybe he would hold off on that until I went back to Hogwarts. 

Remus was a little cranky as I picked him up from his crib. He was pouting, though he wasn't crying yet. He was whimpering in displeasure though. I decided to breast feed him and change his diaper. 

I dressed him up in his smart suit, making sure the bow tie was straight. He had quieted down a little and I smiled. I wondered if it was okay if I let him lick some icing off of my finger. I would ask Mrs. Weasley. It was made of milk but it was also sweet. 

Trang and I walked down the stairs to find that the most everyone was outside. 

The first people I saw were Fred and George, standing with Ron and another red headed boy who was Harry in disguise. They were holding seating plans that they were using to help other people to their seats. 

I saw Fred dart forwards to seat a group of Veela cousins. I smiled a little, knowing that years ago my jealousy would've spiked through the roof. Now, I was just hoping that he had a good time. 

"Do you see Oliver?" Trang's voice was breathless. It would be the first time in seeing him in a while. I knew that she was nervous. I had never seen her show interest to a boy before so I knew this was a big deal for her. 

I scanned the crowd, but didn't see the Quidditch player anywhere. 

"No. But it's still early. It's still just mostly the family here." I said in comfort. If I was right about Oliver, he was rather serious about Trang. He would be here. 

I did see Tonks and Dad approach Harry- or the boy that was Harry. Tonks spoke to Harry but Dad looked miserable and I frowned. 

I knew I could've interfered. Told dad that the baby wasn't going to end up like him. But I also knew that Harry needed to be the one to put him in his place. It was necessary to the future. 

"Trang!" A voice behind the two of us said. I didn't turn around right away because Oliver sounded like a strangled chicken and I really didn't want to laugh in his face. 

After a second, I turned to see that the both of them were blushing crazily, holding hands and talking in soft tones. Oliver did look over and he smiled a little easier, "Hello Elizabeth. How are you?" 

"Good, thanks." I smiled, though it was mostly a lie. "How are you? And Quidditch?" 

"Oh it's been great!" Oliver relaxed completely, and smiled hugely at Trang. "I was actually just telling Trang that we've got a new Captain. I think we're going to make it at the top this year." 

"Well, you are a superb Keeper." I said with an easy smile. "Anyways, Trang. I'll see the two of you inside. I'm going to say hi to dad." 

I quickly left them by themselves and approached the tent as Hermione had just joined Ron and Harry. 

". . . personally, she's rude to everyone." Ron was saying to Hermione. 

"Talking about Muriel?" George asked as he and Fred exited the tent now. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided." I giggled hard. "Old bat. I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings." 

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" Hermione asked. 

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end." George admitted. 

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party. He used to down an entire bottle of firewhiskey, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his-" 

Harry roared with laughter and I smiled a little. 

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer." Hermione said dryly while Ron added, "Never married, for some reason." 

"You amaze me." 

We were all laughing until a new, thickly accented voice said, "you look vunderful." 

"Viktor!" Hermione shrieked, dropping her bag, which she scrambled to pick up while blushing. "I didn't know you were- goodness- it's lovely to see- how are you?" 

I smirked. 

"How come you're here?" Ron demanded. 

"Ron!" I scolded while Krum replied, "Fleur invited me." 

Harry shook his hand and then Krum turned to me and smiled. "Hello Elizabeth." 

We hugged tightly and I offered to show him to his seat since we were sitting near each other. 

"He is very cute." Krum offered, motioning to my baby. 

"Thank you." I smiled a little. 

Krum and I had kept in contact with each other ever since he'd left school in the fourth year. I felt that I knew him as much as I did with the Weasleys or Hermione or Harry. We kept up a steady stream of chatter until I told him I had to get to my seat. 

I settled down next to Trang who was gaping at me. "You know Viktor Krum?" 

"Oh." I blinked. "Did I forget to mention that we're penpals of like three years?" 

"Yes!" Trang nearly shrieked. "He's a famous Quidditch player!" 

"I'm a famous Quidditch player." I heard Oliver mutter quietly to himself which made Trang giggle and then drop the conversation. 

Harry, Ron, Fred, and George settled around us as well. Harry next to me and Fred and George in front of us. 

Bill and Charlie stood at the front- Charlie being Bills' best man. Both of them were wearing dress robes with white roses in their buttonholes. They both looked extremely handsome and Fred wolf-whistled, which encouraged the veela cousins to giggle. 

The crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons that decorated the marquee. 

I heard Hermione gasp and I turned to see that Monsieur Delacour and Fleur were walking down the aisle. Well, actually, Fleur seemed to be almost gliding. The dress was actually very simple. But that seemed to work for her best, as she seemed to be almost glowing, the way I imagined elves did in the Lord of the Rings with their long blond hair. 

Ginny and Gabrielle were wearing dresses of gold, Fleur's light seemed to envelope them to make them shine as well. As Fleur reached Bill, his werewolf scars seemed to almost disappear. 

"Ladies and gentlemen. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls-" 

"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely. But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut." Aunt Muriel's' voice carried from the front row so that I couldn't hear the squeaky wizard that was performing Bill and Fleur's wedding. 

Ginny, hearing her proper name, glanced around and winked at someone- probably Harry. 

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle to be your lawfully married wife?" 

"I do." 

Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were sobbing into scraps of lace in the front row. I could hear Hagrid blowing his nose from the back of the tent, sounding a bit like an elephant. Trang had her hands pressed to her mouth, tears in her eyes while Oliver put an arm around her shoulder. Hermione too, had tears in her eyes. Meanwhile, I fought the urge to starting laughing. 

"Do you, Fleur Isabelle, take William Arthur to be your lawfully married husband?" 

"I do." 

"Then I declare you bonded for life." The wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiraling around their now entwined figure as they kissed. Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons bursting open so that birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din of hands clapping together. 

"Ladies and gentlemen! If you would please stand up!" 

I stood quickly, starting to rock Remus a little. The loud noises of the cheers and claps along with the explosion of the bells had woken him from his sleep and he was starting to fuss. 

The wand was waved again. The seats we had been sitting on rose gracefully into the air as the canvas walls of the marquee vanished, so that they stood beneath a canopy supported by golden poles, with a glorious view of the sunlit orchard and surrounding countryside. Next, a pool of molten gold spread from the center of the tent to form a gleaming dance floor; the hovering chairs grouped themselves around small, white-clothed tables, which all floated gracefully back to earth around it, and the golden-jacketed band trooped toward a podium. 

"Smooth." Ron said on the other side of Harry. 

"We should go and congratulate them!" Hermione declared. 

I stood up and moved away to see that Tonks and Dad had taken a table. Tonks was beaming but dad seemed to have a storm cloud over his head. He did brighten a little upon seeing me. 

"Oh! You look gorgeous!" Tonks declared, hopping up, pulling me into a hug. 

"Thank you." I said, hugging her back tightly. "As do you." 

She was wearing dress robes of a pale pink colour. Her hair was blond and she looked gorgeous. 

"Elizabeth." 

I turned to see Charlie there, grinning, "Do want to dance?" 

"Oh!" I said in surprise. "Sure." 

"I'll take this little guy." Tonks said happily, pulling Remus out of my arms, cuddling him close. I smiled and then took Charlies' hand, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. 

We spun around on the dance floor and I managed to forget most of my worries. I still had months before I would lose the people closest to me. And with Fawkes, I now had plans in the marking to save their lives. All of them. 

Charlie and I danced through several different songs. I was half afraid that with the romantic atmosphere, he would try breaching the conversation of the two of us. It wasn't exactly a secret he liked me at this point and Mrs. Weasley had been rather encouraging of it. But I think he also knew that I wouldn't accept him and he was happy enough to simply have this. 

Lee wanted to cut in after though, so I smiled at Charlie and went dancing with Lee. After two songs, Bill stepped in and danced with me while Charlie danced with Fleur. 

"He's very interested in you, you know." Bill said suddenly, eyes flickering to Charlie. 

"I know." I said softly. I guessed I was slightly wrong. He was just going to have his brother broach the conversation. "But I can't." 

"I know." Bill said. "Your heart belongs to someone else." 

"Yes. As stupid as it sounds." I smiled a little. 

"No, it's not stupid." Bill said seriously. His blue eyes suddenly made me wary. They reminded me of Dumbledore's in a way, like they were looking through me to my very soul. "I may not have like Snape and Snape never liked any of us. But he had a soft spot for you and, well, he loves you Elizabeth. Regardless of his path he has chosen." 

"Don't get to wise on me Bill." I joked to cover up my anxiety and feelings. "I still prefer being the wisest person you know." 

Bill chuckled, letting the conversation die out thankfully. But it still left me unsettled as I went and took Remus back from Tonks. 

He had fallen asleep contentedly and I sat down in one of the chairs to rest. I kicked off the thin stilettos heels that I had been wearing the entire time. They were killing my feet- but I hadn't expected to dance. 

Viktor was in a terrible mood, eyeing Lunas' father with an extreme dislike. I knew what Krum though the small triangular sign on his chest stood for. But I also knew what Lunas' father thought it stood for. 

Fred and George both wanted to take me for a spin on the dance floor, though they later sneaked off with some veela cousins after releasing me. I didn't mind. I was more preoccupied with letting Fred have as much fun as possible. 

The red headed Harry was sitting at another table with Elphias Doge and Aunt Muriel. They seemed to be in a great argument while Harry seemed rather stunned and uncomfortable. I knew what the conversation was there and I had no ambition to join it. 

Trang and Oliver seemed to have disappeared and I had my suspicions of where they'd disappeared off to. I had told Trang there would be problems later and she'd probably 'snuck off' with Oliver to keep him safe. 

I figured I might as well do the same. 

I got to my feet now, ready to head back to the Burrow. I wasn't sure where I would go, but I knew I had to go underground before I went back to Hogwarts. 

As though my actions and thoughts prompted instant reaction, a glowing, silver Lynx patronus gracefully landed lightly in the middle of the dancers. Everyones' heads turned towards it and I stiffened. 

My eyes immediately found Harry. It was a little early for this, Hermione had not yet reached him either. 

I pushed aside my own safety, being the only person moving as I ran towards the red-headed disguise. 

"The Ministry has fallen." Kingsley's slow, deep voice emitted from the Patronus. "Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming." 

I grabbed Harry's shoulder. "Time to go Harry." 

Harry let me drag him by the hand while he fumbled, drawing his wand. Hermione was with us in seconds, her wand already drawn as well. 

"Ron!" Hermione screamed as someone else screamed and then the crowd was panicking, scattering like cockroaches under a light. "Ron, where are you?" 

Masked figures apparated around the tent. I drew my wand, switching Remus into my other wand. I saw Tonks and Dad raising their wands. I only heard Dad's confident voice shout, "Protego!" 

Harry and Hermione got separated from me in the chaos. I was using the tall figures of the other people around me to hide. I needed to get away from here. Remus was starting to cry and Death Eaters heads' swiveled towards the sound. 

Shit. They knew about Remus. 

"ELIZABETH!" That was dads' voice shouting above the crowd. Trying to find me. I slipped towards him, before there was someone blocking me. 

Hagrid grabbed my arm, dragging me away from the crowd towards my father. Spells bounced off his back as they usually did and I fired back as I ran with him. 

"Elizabeth!" Dad's voice was relieved and he nearly shoved me towards Trang. "Take her to your parents house! Now!" 

Tonks grabbed my arm and we disapparated on the spot. 

I blinked, feeling slightly disoriented. Tonks was gone again in seconds, possibly back to The Burrow. 

I stumbled up the stairs and knocked on the door. 

Andromeda opened the door. "Elizabeth?" 

"The Ministry has fallen." I repeated Kingsley's words as I hurried into the house, putting Remus down in the crib. I needed to grab something- all of my preparations were still at the Burrow. "They attacked the Burrow. All of the houses have lost their protection. I have to-" 

The sounds of several people apparating sounded outside and all three of us turned silently towards the door. Pounding at the door proved that it was not someone friendly. 

Andromeda opened the door with a flick of her wand while I pushed the crib into the room slightly so that it was hidden. 

I didn't recognize any of the Death Eaters as they entered the house. I could only hope that meant none of them knew who I was too. 

The next few minutes seemed to pass in some sort of hazy blur as I was half stuck in reality, half stuck in my visions. I remember that the others were screaming under the use of the Cruciatus Curse. I remember that I too was put under the curse. 

I remember that they asked about Harry and the flight. Things became a little clearer after that. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were safe. I hoped Hermione had read the letter I left her about how she shouldn't use Voldemort's name since it was taboo. 

I focused on them. I was on my knees, my body radiating in pain. I was stupidly aware of my dress and how I was afraid that it was going to tear. 

"Well?" The Death Eater demanded, turning the wand back on Ted. Meanwhile, one of the Death Eaters had found Remus and had him in his arms. The Death Eater smirked viciously, turning the wand on Remus. 

"I wasn't there!" I blurted out. "None of us were. I was just in charge of getting Mad- Eye Moody's body back. That was it! I wasn't with Harry! I don't know where he is!" 

Lie, after lie, after lie. But Remus was the only thing I really had left of Severus. And he was the person I cared about more than myself. I couldn't bear the thought of my son even getting a paper cut or a small bruise on his knee. Torture? It would kill me. 

"Please." I sobbed, holding my arms out for my baby. 

Remus wasn't given back to me, but handed over to Andromeda who quickly sheltered my little boy. 

"Take her." The Death Eater snarled. 

I knew that if I fought, they would become more suspicious. Right now, none of them seemed to know that I was Elizabeth Kane. I couldn't risk Remus. 

I struggled a little, making sure that my wand fell onto the floor and then I kicked it under the couch. I had had that wand for so many years, I wasn't going to let it get snapped. 

I struggled a little more once we were actually out of the house and as I heard the sounds of more apparition, wanting to see who was here now. 

"ELIZABETH!" Dad's voice bellowed in the air and with a gut wrenching swirl, my eyes met his, before I disappeared. 

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