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soreddieforit · 1 day

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@jegulus-microfic | april 26: aimless | 1,276 words | trans! regulus

james does regulus' tape binding aftercare <3

James lingers in the doorway, quietly observing Regulus in their softly lit bathroom.

He's perched on the ledge of the bathtub, seemingly lost in thought, his head bowed and fingers idle and aimless where they trace the rim of it. He's shirtless, clad in only boxers and socks. His bare thighs press against the cool porcelain, causing goosebumps to rise there. Soft, late evening light leaks from the window, casting gentle shadows against his frame.

Outside, the rhythmic passing of cars punctuates the stillness, their headlights casting golden beams that dance across the wet asphalt. The nearby stoplight's red glow mingles with them, creating a surreal mix of colors on the shimmering pavement.

There's a soft rustle of movement as James enters the room behind Regulus, moving to the sink. He sifts through the contents of their vanity, hands passing over their shared face wash and the cup holding their toothbrushes to retrieve the items needed for Regulus' tape aftercare. Deft hands gather oil, washcloths, cotton swabs, and salve before placing them on the bathtub ledge. He approaches Regulus with a tenderness reserved only for moments like these, for him.

"Ready, love?" James' voice breaks the silence with a mellow murmur. He settles his weight behind him.

Regulus turns his head, giving a small nod against his own shoulder. "Yeah," he says, voice crackling from disuse.

James leans in to press a kiss between Regulus' shoulder blades. He lingers there for a moment. This close, he can see the faint dusting of freckles that mark his back. They're spattered across the skin like spray from a wave on sand. Speckles in shades of russet, sepia, and chocolate dance across his pale skin, shifting as Regulus shivers lightly. As James' lips leave his back, the muscles beneath those pretty dots tremble.

James reaches for the oil, uncaps it, and warms it between his hands. He presses both his palms to Regulus, carefully smoothing the oil over the edges of the tape. His touch follows the span of the tape from Regulus' back, under his arms, to the front of his chest. His movements are slow and practiced, designed as much to reassure as to treat. The oil glistens slightly on Regulus' skin, catching the dim light as it begins to soften the adhesive.

As they wait for the tape to loosen, a comfortable silence settles over them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city and their own quiet breathing. James doesn't stop his ministrations; his fingers continue to trace gentle paths along Regulus' shoulders, the back of his neck, following the delicate contours of his shoulder blades. These moments are so special to him; he wants Regulus to feel loved through his actions, to experience the same palpable surge of affection with each pass of his hands that James feels. There is so much trust that Reg offers him in these moments—it's intimate. James is the only person Regulus allows to see the most vulnerable parts of himself, and that knowledge alone makes James' heart swell with fondness and love. He has never loved someone as he does Regulus.

Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.

Sometimes, James thinks Regulus was crafted specifically for him; as if the cosmos themselves conspired to mold him to perfectly complement the contours of James' own body, his own soul. Looking back, it's almost silly to him now—he thought he knew what love was like before him. His heart was already overflowing with it for Sirius, his mum, his dad, his friends. He's always had big emotions, brimming with affection and fierce protectiveness for the people around him. He's always cared deeply and felt profoundly, but nothing could have prepared him for the depth of feeling that Regulus brought into his life.

James knows nothing, nobody else could ever make him feel like this.

He settles his hands on the edges of the tape on Regulus' left side. "Gonna take it off now, okay?"

"Yeah, okay James. Go ahead"

James pulls at the tape gently, easing it from the skin. He's careful not to pull too hard or move too fast, patient as he works. He grabs Regulus' bicep, thumb pressing into the underside, fingers curling over. "Lift your arm up, Reg," he instructs softly.

Regulus raises his arm, holding it aloft as James' hand moves back down to steady the skin being separated from the tape. He can't resist pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his bicep before continuing to peel off the tape there. When he encounters a tough spot, where the tape still clings to his skin, James reaches for more oil. He warms it between his fingers once again before lightly holding the piece back, rubbing it into the seam between Regulus' skin and the tape until it loosens enough for him to continue. He carefully removes the first piece, then works at a second, a third, before repeating the process on Regulus' right side.

There's still a faint trace of leftover adhesive where the edges of the tape once were. So, James takes a cotton swab, dips it in oil, and meticulously traces the outlines left by the pieces. He moves slowly, with deliberate delicacy, mindful of the soreness of his skin.

Once he's satisfied, James fetches the washcloth. He soaks it in warm, soapy water and carefully cleans the area, wiping away excess oil and any lingering traces of the day. Then he reaches for the salve—the last physical part of their routine, though James knows the comfort it brings goes beyond just the skin. Two of his fingers dip into the container, scooping up the soothing balm. James is so careful with him, his fingers so gentle as they spread the salve, taking extra care with the tender skin under his arms and over his ribs. He traces the rungs of them, then the dip of his chest, making sure no skin is left uncared for.

James then grabs what's technically his own shirt—a worn, soft thing that Regulus has claimed as his own, his favorite pajama top—from the ledge of the sink. He helps Regulus slip it over his head, taking advantage of every second he allows him to be so close, to take care of him.

"Feeling okay?" James asks once Regulus is settled.

He trails his hand at the hem of his shirt, slipping it underneath to rest gently on his stomach, careful not to brush the newly cared-for skin or his chest.

Regulus hums an affirmative, "mhmm." Eyes closing and head tipping back as he nods.

"I'm not just asking about your skin, love," James whispers. It's tough for Regulus sometimes, taking the tape off, sitting with his chest. It's a necessity though, for his well-being, despite the discomfort it brings. And James always does everything within his power to make it easier for him. He knows he can't fix everything, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to.

Regulus reaches back, his palm sliding from James' elbow to his hand beneath his shirt, their fingers intertwining at his stomach. Their faces are so close that Regulus' cheek drags against James' as he turns his head, planting a soft kiss on James' cheek. "I do, I feel okay. I promise," he murmurs, giving James a warm smile.

Leaning back into James' frame, Regulus lets his weight settle comfortably against him. "You make it easier," he breathes out, words floating into the space between them. Another kiss, "Thank you. I love you."

James holds him a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, heart swelling just a little bit more. "I love you too."

#i wonder if the transphobes in my inbox realize that all that they accomplish is motivating me to write more trans reg sooo #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #marauders #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders fanfic #james x regulus

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strawberrystepmom · 2 days

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happy gojo fluff friday i guess. gojo x f!reader. established relationship, self indulgent crafting fluff, reader is teaches the second years. | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.4k, reading time 5 mins 17 seconds

“I used to make these all the time, remember?”

Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you in your living room, you hold up a bundle of braided twine bracelets, a rainbow of colors with assorted charms attached to them. Little plastic seashells on the blue one, flowers dotting the green one.

Satoru remembers, he still has the one you made him in your first year. It feels like a lifetime ago that six teenagers had vaguely matching mementos they wore showing their unity as a group, yourself and your fellow first years Nanami and Haibara and of course himself and his friends.

“Blue seems cliche,” you opined at the time with a raised brow, a pink cheeked seventeen year old Gojo staring back at you anxiously. His crush had bloomed by then although you pretended to be oblivious to it. “How about pink instead?”

He has never been able to tell you no so he nodded, keeping his mouth screwed shut while you worked. Pink he received, so bright it almost hurt his eyes to wear it back then. You attached a little smiley face charm right in the middle, affixing it around his wrist. He wore it every day until it began to unravel, safely kept in a small lockbox in the back of his closet.

The same box that contains most of the memories you’ve given him, the photos, the cards, the trinkets, and the ones the two of you have yet to make including that pesky engagement ring he can never seem to figure out the right time to give you.

“I might take it to school with me tomorrow just to see what the kids think.”

Two big hands make their way to your bent thighs and you smile, still digging through the box in your lap. Beads, closures, all the stuff you used to pride yourself on keeping tidy and neat. You glance up at him, that same smile on your face.

“Let me make you a new one since I have all this stuff out.”

You dig through the box for a minute more, squinting and making a show of exaggeratedly humming. Leaning in toward him, you hold colored embroidery floss up to his face to compare it to the shades of his eyes, the unforgettable feature that they are. One bundle of floss is too green, the other is too yellow.

“What do you think the kids will say?” He asks, watching each of your movements raptly. Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrate, an adorable habit you’ve maintained in all of the years he’s known you, and you sit back on your haunches for a moment, hands on your thighs.

Yet another adorable habit.

He reaches to grab your arm, gently rubbing his thumb along the inside of it. You smile at the touch and ponder what your students will truly think if you bring this to them. It’s a bit of a dated hobby compared to the luxury of choice teenagers have now and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head.

“Well, Maki will probably say you’re rubbing off on me since I don’t bother to teach anymore and call it stupid to my face.” Satoru chuckles, watching through his lashes while you spring back into action, reaching behind you to grab a few more bundles of blue. “Inumaki will probably spell something inappropriate in English if I bring the letter beads. Panda will ask me to make each of them a matching bracelet because he’s sweet and will request that I make one for Yuuta to have when he gets back, too.”

Looking at the latest bounty recovered from the little tackle box that stores the trinkets required for this, you gasp. Cerulean with a deep blue sparkle woven through the strands.

I’ll save this for something special some day, you told yourself more than a decade ago, spending your student stipend in some fancy embroidery shop in Nippori. Yen exchanged for fancy thread, dotted with glitter or metallic coating. You had no idea. Maybe you even bought it back then hoping a day where you’d be able to compare it to Satoru’s eyes would arrive, subconsciously laying the tracks for your own future.

“It’s a perfect match.”

The grin on your face is mirrored by your love who reaches around your body to grab from the twine selection himself. A handful of colors that match your eyes sit across his large palm and he glances down at the collection, mimicking your previous attempts to find something that screamed “him”.

“What are you doing?” The question is a half joke but you let him hum to himself, raising one bundle and then another to compare them. “Well, I didn’t make you one back then because I thought I was too cool,” he blinks at you, making you giggle. “I was right, of course, but there’s no time like the present, right?”

Nodding your agreement, you remove the paper from around the twine and shake it out. You’ll need some coordinating colors so you dig back through the bundles in front of you, sticking them against his face again.

“I still have the one you made me, by the way.”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and use your index finger to poke around in the bead compartment, searching for the perfect one for your newest creation.

“Don’t lie, I can always tell.” Satoru grabs your hand delicately although your fingers are still holding various crafting supplies and raises it to his lips, gently kissing your wrist. You are very attentive to the little things about him and likely noticed when he finally stopped wearing it, several years after it was first made. “I’m not lying. I had to stop wearing it because it was unweaving and I didn’t want to lose it forever.”

You feel guilty for the accusation and lean in toward him, kissing the tip of his nose, claiming your hand back from his grasp to begin braiding twine together into a pattern.

“I can always re-make it if you’d rather have a pink one,” you offer, braiding together various shades of blue in your lap without looking down. “I can wear this one.”

Smiling softly, he looks at you, then the bundle of your eye colored twine in his own hand.

“You wear the blue one and I’ll make one that matches you to wear myself, how about that?”

Nodding, you let the conversation fall quiet while he unbundles his own selections, fingers deftly separating and joining three strands, just the way you tried to teach him years ago when you assumed he didn’t care. He has always paid far more attention to you than you’ve realized and you’ve given him a lot to study over the last ten or so years.

“I think you should leave this at home,” he admits. It’s selfish but he doesn’t want to see you share this precious memory with your students who may not even appreciate it. He wants to sit cross legged on the living floor with you, making little friendship bracelets that will eventually unravel or fade or snap, for the rest of his life. He wants to make them for your children someday, matching bracelets with mom and dad. He wants to keep this, to keep you, all to himself.

“Okay. It’s probably for the best anyway, I don’t need to give them one more thing to give me shit about.”

Satoru leans toward you and kisses your forehead right as you’re finishing the blue bracelet. He looks down, tying and knotting it around your wrist, remembering when you did the same for him so long ago.

“Looks good.” His words catch your eye and you smile up at him, looking between his eyes and the bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It is an uncanny match and you’re proud of your own eye for color though your pride is stopped in its tracks when he sticks out his wrist, bracelet pinched between two of his fingers and dangling from his hand. “Would you mind?”

You do as he did for you, as you’ve done for him before, with softness in your eyes it would be impossible to hide.

“Not bad,” you compliment and he shrugs with a chuckle. “Obviously. I even think mine is the better of the two.”

Letting your hand rest in his lap, next to his, the hastily made bracelets sit one next to the other on each of your bodies. His eyes follow yours and he weaves your fingers together, thumb gently rubbing the thickest part of your palm.

It’ll always be the two of you, a perfectly matched set, no matter what.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #kendall writes #satoken

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lev1hei1chou · 21 hours

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Abstract Art

Gojo x reader Ft. 1st years Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo tries painting and calls it "abstract art" A/N: I've been going through a block lately, so please feel free to drop any specific ideas or blurbs in my asks Masterlist

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and you were spending some quality time with Satoru Gojo, your unpredictable boyfriend. As you both lounged in the living room, he suddenly declared, "Hey, babe, I'm working on a masterpiece. You're going to love it." he made hand motions asking you to follow him.

Intrigued, you followed him to his makeshift art studio, a corner of the room scattered with paintbrushes, canvases, and tubes of vibrant colors. Gojo grinned mischievously, revealing a canvas covered with a mysterious white cloth.

"I present to you, my latest creation!" he exclaimed, pulling off the cloth with a dramatic flourish.

To your surprise, the masterpiece was... unconventional, to say the least. The colors clashed in wild patterns, there was no coordination, the shades made no sense and shapes seemed to defy any recognizable form. It was a chaotic mess.

Your eyes widened, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Satoru, is this your idea of a masterpiece?"

He winked at you, unabashed. "Abstract art, my love. Only the chosen few can truly appreciate its beauty."

Just then, Yuji, Kugisaki, and Megumi walked in, drawn by the commotion. They took one look at the canvas and burst into laughter.

"What is this, Gojo sensei?" Yuji asked, pointing at the chaotic mess.

Gojo struck a pose, pretending to be deep in thought. "It's abstract art, my sweet little mochis. Only those with a refined taste can understand its profound meaning."

Kugisaki rolled her eyes. "Refined taste? More like a refined disaster!"

Megumi, usually reserved, couldn't contain his amusement. "I never knew chaos could be considered art."

You and the others continued to tease Gojo mercilessly, with each remark more playful than the last. Despite the initial embarrassment, Gojo took it all in stride, joining in the laughter.

As the banter continued, Gojo decided to embrace the teasing, declaring, "Well, only the truly enlightened can appreciate the genius behind this masterpiece."

The chaotic masterpiece proudly hung in your living room as per Gojo's request.

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whalefill · 2 days

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art process PLEASE i love your art sm i need to steal your style asl;jfdl;asjdf

thank you! finding an art style you're happy with just takes time and intuition, but i can still show you how i go about mine - using this fancy goldfish as our guide :)

step 1: sketch your drawing and don't feel the need to be as neat as I was here. step 2: clean up your sketch, or line it. i usually choose the former, but it mostly depends how much of a mess the sketch is and which option i know is going to take more effort. (i also prefer to do this because i think it gives my art more fluidity and emotion! line work is tough for me that way!)

step 3: lay in your flat colors. step 4: shading/rendering of those colors; usually pretty minimal for me. step 5: further rendering, but this time on top of your line work. i get really lost in these steps, playing around with different hues and values until i feel the drawing come to life. again, it just takes intuition. (i'm a self taught artist so i literally can't tell you how i learned any of this shit, it just happened, i'm just as confused as you are)

also, note: i merge my layers as i work. some people think that's chaotic but for me it keeps things simple. that brings us into the next part, which is

step 6: create an overlay layer and clip it to your drawing, because it's magical and it makes all of your colors more vibrant and cohesive‼ 👍😼 (i don't always do a gradient like this, but the drawing was pretty monochromatic so i thought it looked nice)

step 7: miscellaneous final touches like highlights, and then most importantly, add texture. for me, since i use paint tool sai, this is "paper" under "texture" in the paints effect window in the top right corner. can't tell ya how it's done elsewhere. sometimes i take a random image of colored static off of google and create an overlay of that, for texture, too.

thats pretty much it man

#thanks for askin i had fun explaining to be honest #asks #anon #soup sketch

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bloodsuckingfiends · 2 days

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not even going anon for this. horny on main always pls. offering a lil Rolan headcanon I've been stewing on recently. I plan to make something of it eventually, but perhaps you can drabble from it now to sate me :)

Rolan is usually one to prefer softer sex - unending eye contact, kisses, more "romantic" positions.

Tav finally convinces him to take her from behind, and he's hesitant at first - until the sight of him unleashes something filthy and primal within him. It's as if he snaps, quickly shifting from slow, hesitant movements to desperate thrusts filled with raw desire. Soft kisses along her neck turn into love nips and then full on mating bites as her hips arch back into his - yeah. Just full on, animalistic urges, breathy grunts in her ear, Rolan 🥲🥵

AHHHHH making a usually soft man absolutely feral? Yes please 🥵

From Behind

It wasn’t that Tav was disappointed in her and Rolan's sex life. No it was quite the opposite actually. Rolan was a more than attentive lover, always taking into consideration Tav’s pleasure over his own. Always making sure that she reached her peak at least once before he even considered climbing towards his own.

Whilst in town one evening, shopping for a particular book, Tav had overheard a rather, intimate natured conversation that two women were whispering and giggling over.

“-from behind? And does it feel any different?”

“Oh quite! Much better if you ask me. Hits that spot almost every time.” The woman murmured to her friend whose face held utter astonishment.

“I’ll have to see if Maldor would be willing to try.”

Tav’s face blushed a deep color at the realization of just what the the two women had been chatting about. She quickly grabs what she was looking for, pays and leaves, face never changing shade from the deep flush from earlier.

Later that night, as Tav tucks into bed beside Rolan, and settles in to sleep, the wizard rolls over to pull her back against his chest like usual. Tav's breath hitches when his hips settle against her ass, her mind immediately shifting to what she had overheard at the shops.

"Are you alright?" Rolan leans up on his elbow, eyes looking over her to check for discomfort.

Tav startles at the sound of his almost gruff voice, "Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm alright."

"You're quite skittish, dear, did I do something to upset you?" the wizard gently pushes on her shoulder, getting her to roll over onto her back so he can get a good look at her face.

Her face which is flushed all over again, with eyes that are pointedly trying not to meet Rolan's.

Rolan moves his hand away from her shoulder, not wanting to cross any boundaries, even if he's unaware of any. Tav worries her bottom lip with her teeth, before meeting his concerned gaze.

"No, no you didn't do anything, my love. Just a long day is all." the lie leaves her mouth suspiciously quick, and Rolan notices the way she nervously swallows after speaking it.

"Tav, if you need your space, I am more than happy to give it to yo-"

"It's not that!" she cuts him off, "I just thought of something... specific, when you, well, you pressed against my ass."

The tiefling raises a brow at her, "What- Tav what are you talking about?" He's utterly confused at the way she's stumbling over her words over something so simple.

Tav sighs in defeat and avoids Rolan's gaze while speaking her next words, "While at the shop this evening, I overheard two women talking about their, well... intimate lives. And well, one of them mentioned how good it feels to be- well, to be taken from behind." She finishes and takes a breath before meeting his eyes once again.

"Is that something you'd like to try?" he asks so casually that it throws Tav off for a moment. Rolan was one who preferred more intimate positions, usually favoring missionary. He liked being able to watch Tav's features as they contorted with pleasure and reacted to his ministrations, liked being able to lock eyes with her as she came apart around him.

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to it, I suppose. Only if you would be okay with it of cour-mmph." Rolan's lips meet Tav's in an abrupt kiss, affectively cutting off her anxious rambling.

"I am more than willing to try this with you, dear." he mumbles between kisses, his hand beginning to roam down her side to rest on her hip.

Tav deepens the kiss, tongue darting out to meet his, her hands coming up to rest on the ridged planes of his chest. Her fingers trace over the infernal ridges, before coming up to rest on his broad shoulders. She gasps into Rolan's mouth when she feels his fingers trail down her belly, toying at the edge of her panties, before dipping inside and gathering her wetness on his middle finger.

"So wet already. Just from the thought of me fucking you." he murmurs against her jaw, kissing along the bone.

"Please-" Tav begs. For what? She's not entirely sure.

"So needy." Rolan teases as he swipes his finger in little circles around her throbbing clit. His rhythm steady, his touch light. Tav's thighs tense, then instinctively fall open a bit more, the sensation almost too much.

"Want you to come for me before I fuck you from behind, can you do that for me?" he whispers against her lips, finger dipping to her fluttering hole, wetting itself to continue circling her.

"Mmhm." Tav whines desperately, her own fingers clasping around his forearm, already climbing to her peak. It's not long before her thighs begin to shake, her core clenching as she tumbles over the ledge. She throws her head back as Rolan finally dips two of his fingers into her spasming cunt. He fucks her through her orgasm, lips pressing wet kisses to her exposed throat, whispering praises against the taut skin.

"Always so good for me. Now I want you on your knees sweetheart." He holds a hand out for her to take as she lifts to her wobbly knees. As she kneels before him, he gets into position behind her.

One clawed hand traces up Tav's spine, making it's way up to the back of her neck to grip and push her down into place. Her elbows meet the mattress. A shocked sound huffs past Tav's lips, and Rolan's hands caress over her hips, kneading the plush flesh lovingly.

He reaches down, taking his length in hand, he drags the tip through her wet folds.

"Are you ready to take me, dear?" he asks lovingly, notching his head in her entrance. Tav nods, looking back over her shoulder to meet his amber gaze.

When he pushes into her, she gasps. The head of him instantly brushing against that sweet spot nestled deep inside her. Rolan bends forward, an arm scooping around Tav's middle to pull her up against his chest. His thrusts pick up speed, his hips rutting into her frantically.

"Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?" he almost hisses the words. The hand wrapped around Tav, gropes at her breasts, squeezing the flesh and teasing at her peaked nipples.

"Yes yes yes." Tav chants breathily as he relentlessly pounds into her g-spot. She can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.

"Gonna fill you up like this. Gonna fill you with my cum." Rolan groans into her neck, his free hand coming up to rest on her belly. "I'm so close."

"Come in me. Please, I wanna feel you fill me." Tav whimpers, holding onto his forearms.

With a guttural moan, Rolan releases into Tav, his seed flooding her walls being the thing that triggers her own orgasm.

Rolan thrusts a couple of more times, riding out their highs, before gently pulling out of her. He takes her into his arms, carefully laying her down to rest. Tav lays her head on his chest, making attempts to catch her breath.

"So, was it what you hoped it would be?" Rolan laughs as he tries to catch his own.

"Everything and more." Tav dopily smiles.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #Rolan x tav smut #Rolan x reader smut #Rolan x tav angst #Rolan x tav fluff #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 oc #baldurs gate tav #rolan fanart #rolan nation #tiefling

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kingsandbastardz · 3 days

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MLC's prop department has been having fun

Tinfoil hat time. I've been tracking the movement of Li Lianhua's pillows at the Lotus Tower (yes I know, crazy)

Anyway, here are my findings that I think will be interesting to know:

(Episode 1) We are given 1 shot of a pillow. It's rust colored with a white center - he uses it in his own bed.

(Episode 8) We now see 2 pillows. One white one on the bed (llh's) and a grey-bluish colored one on the side dresser. Being that Fang Duobing has been staying there, I have assigned this color to him.

(Episode 13) We still see the grey-blue pillow that I assume is FDB's. He was using the white one here because LLH's put him in his own bed after he was injected with gangchi

(Episode 19) This looks similar to the grey-blue pillow, but I've dubbed it blue-grey because it's more blue and it's darker. Which means this is not FDB's bedding, but who is it for?

(Episode 20, images A and B) Ah here we go. It's Di Feisheng's. In the second image, you can see that he is a messy blanket folder.

(Episode 27) Post A-Fei getting taken away, and post-fdb breakup, LLH passes out and wakes up several days later. Su Xiaoyong has found him and has apparently been nursing him. I assume she helped herself to his prettiest pillowcase while she made herself at home. At first I thoguht she gave him his own white pillowcase, but on closer inspection, it looks grey. So I can't tell if it's a lighting/color-filter situation or if Su Xiaoyong actually grabbed fdb's pillow when dragging LLH to bed.

(Episode 28) The upstairs room - This is while they're traveling to the city and Su Xiaoyong is still with him. As she's a young unmarried woman, I assume for propriety's sake, he moved himself temporarily to the upstairs bedroom while he's still feeling ok, so you see his white pillow, fdb's grey-blue, and dfs' blue-grey. Yes, they look like the same shade under different lighting - but they're actually under the same strength shadow. So one is a full shade darker than the other.

(thanks @difeisheng I completely missed this one)

(Episode 40) No spare bedding on the side counter. FDB was sleeping in the chair against the table. LLH has been alone.

Conclusion:

LLH color codes his pillows for people who stay over

So in the previous episode 19 DFS had told LLH that he would come find him later. Apparently, that was enough for LLH to get out some extra bedding. Just in case. And then DFS shows up with amnesia immediately in the next episode.

Clearing out his loose bits and bobs wasn't just about people or situations, but included packing away all the extra bedding

FDB and DFS (With and without amnesia) totally shared the upstairs bed without murdering each other at night. Somehow. despite the bed being tight enough they would probably end up cuddling at some point. And then never spoke about it during the day. LMAO.

#this honestly makes me think that dfs' yinzhu armor being swimtrunks/disco-panties are 100% on purpose - the props dept was having fun #mysterious lotus casebook #di feisheng #li lianhua #meta #fang duobing #my royal ramblings #analysis #su xiaoyong

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sugar-omi · 2 days

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imagine coves reaction to mc getting her nails done as his tip color 🫣

I WAS THINKING ABOUT THAT. but now that im thinking about it... imagine you slide up next to him, start paling him n he thinks he's just getting some. n you have him in your hand, working him up.... n you just take a fucking picture of his dick. n yeah you do get him off for the trouble, but imagine doing that so you can color pick the tone n then roll up to the fucking salon with the color brought up on your phone n you insist. on this particular shade. make the tech get it as close as possible...

fucking unhinged I'm sorry

I didn't talk about it in my previous posts because I figured maybe it was too similar to the lipstick posts. but since someone else shared my thought... freaking imagine it

he'd be so embarrassed when you bring up what you wanna do with your nails next. even more so when you come home and show him the finished product...

calls you a tease when you have your hand around his dick later, comparing the color. its a damn perfect match

oh but if you edge him for awhile.. bringing him so close to the edge, and then pulling away... over n over until he's writhing under your touch, his head tossed back and twisting from the overwhelming pleasure. all those pretty moans falling from his lips as he fucks up into your fist.

now his cock is all flushed and heavy, oozing thick globs of pre cum. he's so cute, even his strained, pleasured face just stirs you up. you could edge him forever.

he can only growl and beg for more, beg for release, even though you're teasing him about how flushed his cock is now, how maybe you should've gotten this color instead so you can look at your nails n remember what he lovely, pent up dick looks like.

(can't look at them while the days go on. he's endlessly embarrassed about why n how you picked that color... is even more embarrassed and jumpy when someone compliments the color of your nails. don't say it's your favorite color, he will scream n run out the store.)

#olba #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut

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estxkios · 23 hours

Note

Hello :3 I luv luv luv all of ur fanfics / headcannons <333

I wanted to ask if you could write a 2005 Bill headcannon where the readers style is cutecore. I haven’t seen anyone do this yet and have been very nervous to ask :0

have a good rest of your day / night you lovely person!!!

OPPOSITES ATTRACT ੈ✩‧₊˚

2005 bill kaulitz x cutecore!reader

summary: the request :3

warnings: just fluff, implied fem reader but i tried to keep it neutral :,)

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the first time he saw you he thought you were the cutest thing ever.

this man did the whole 360 turn to see if his eyes were correct!!:3 (and deep into your relationship honestly he still does this because he thinks ur just adorable !)

the pink skirt you were wearing literally made him go insane he just had to get ur number

i can imagine you giving him the just the cutest dantiest pink bracelet ever, and no matter what hes wearing or what hes doing that day he keeps it on.

like this scary looking man dressed in all black wearing this small little bow bracelet just for u :>

speaking of things like accessories, he randomly takes your jewelry, especially necklaces

one day he took one of your pink chunky necklaces to wear to an event and the other boys were making fun of him

"no way ur really gonna wear that to the event" tom would say

and bil would just confidently reply

"i think it's cute !! plus, it adds to my outfit." :>

needless to say they kept making fun of him, but bill just stood on bussiness.

he would be grabbing the necklace the whole night

just smiling and thinking of you while he touched it

another thing that bill would do is watch you while you did your makeup.

wether it be just some pink eye shadow or a full glitter look he would always be fascinated about how good it always ended up looking !!

so one day he just sat next to you while you were doing your eye shadow and said,

"me next?"

"hm..?" he just sat and looked at you patiently as you processed his request.

"ohhh !" you grabbed your brush and the pallet you were using, "which color do you want?"

he pointed at the light pink, "jus' like you"

you giggled, did he really want pink eyeshadow or was he joking?

he looked at you seriously.

you looked at him with a questioning look as you picked up the brush, rubbing it against the shade he chose.

you lifted his spiky hair out of the way and grabbed his jaw for support,

he stared directly into your eyes as you prepared to start, making you giggle

"close your eyes liebe," you softly said as you started to put the color on his eyes in the normal shape he usually did with his black eyeshadow.

"all done!" you said moments later, putting down the brush.

bill blinked a few times before fully opening his eyes and looking into the mirror.

"cute," you whispered, ruffling his hair.

he didnt say anything immediately after, but he turned to give you fat kiss, and i think that says a lot LMAO

and needless to say, you did his makeup many more times after this :3

--------------------------------------------------------

anyways, sorry for how short this is !! i hope i did your request justice because i loved writing it !!

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daycourtofficial · 3 days

Text

Personal update below

Tw: pregnancy loss, miscarriage, blood

Here it is, the words I’ve been unable to type, much less say out loud. Late in the night a few nights ago, I woke up to some abdominal cramping and went to the bathroom. I had been bleeding vaginally all day, but not enough to be super concerned.

I woke up and went to the bathroom, and knew something was wrong. To spare the details, I was bleeding a lot, cramping severely, and I knew my baby was gone. I felt empty inside, despite only being about 7 or 8 weeks pregnant. Intuition, I suppose. I just felt so lonely, as if I wasn’t supposed to be the only occupant in my body.

My husband took me to the hospital and after hours of invasive poking, prodding, and testing, a nurse practitioner I will likely never see again, who will likely never think of me again, told me that my baby was gone. He was straight forward, which I like in medical personnel. He told me my pregnancy was unviable and that it’s common. That we shouldn’t worry. These things happen. It’s normal, common. The three or so minutes felt like an eternity, waiting for him to leave so I could fall apart in the privacy of my husband’s arms, despite the lack of privacy an emergency department offers.

The hospital was so sterile, the bright lights and lack of windows made it impossible for you to track the passage of time. The winding hallways a maze of monotony, making it impossible to know how to return to your room without a guide. The walls were devoid of any real color, save for tv screens and workplace posters. And yet, the room I was placed in was the only room with decorative curtains. All the other curtains were just a shade of navy.

Mine had flowers on it, as if the world or God or the hospital wanted to offer me some reprieve, some reminder that for the hospital, this was routine, but that it wasn’t routine for me. That I deserved something for my eyes to find comfort in.

So here it is, the new reality I find myself in. My baby is gone. The rare statement that, once it becomes true, will never change.

I’m reeling a bit from this loss, as you can imagine. I’m gutted. I got married right at the beginning of the year, falling pregnant not long after. I joked with my husband that I started the year off becoming a wife and was ending the year becoming a mom. I suppose it really was just a joke in the end, but I’m not sure if the punchline was me or my continued optimism, in spite all that I’ve endured.

Anyway, everyone was extraordinarily kind to me when I had posted that I was pregnant. I know that technically I don’t owe anyone details of my personal life, especially not this personal, but I wanted to share it because I don’t want to be sad and alone. And perhaps this will find its way to someone else who has felt some loss recently, whether it be the loss of someone or something, or a loss of self or identity, or a loss of the future you had planned out. Maybe they will feel some connection to this. Or maybe one day someone will think of this as they reel with their own loss.

I don’t regret sharing the news so early, despite the circumstances that have now led me to making this post. Any joy we can find is worth sharing, even if it’s fleeting, especially if it’s fleeting, and even if it’s for some stranger on the internet.

Anyway, I have my dogs and my husband, who are very loving. I’m not sure when I’ll post this, I’ll likely stick it in my queue somewhere so it feels less like I’m hitting the ‘post’ button and more like softly whispering all of this in the wind.

I will be okay, I always am. Grief is a black hole I am trying navigate and figure out where it ends and I begin, trying to remember what my new life will be like and how to grieve yet another version of myself lost to time and trauma and sadness.

There is no narrative device here, nothing I did could’ve changed the outcome. Sometimes the world is just needlessly cruel.

This doesn’t really affect anything on here or what I choose to interact with. I’m still okay discussing/reading/writing about babies and kids and everything in that realm. I just didn’t want anyone asking after the baby and making someone feel bad for wanting to know how I was doing.

Anyway, I don’t want to end this on a despairing note, even though that is the tune of my life at the moment. I want to remember that my now is not my forever, and I hope anyone reading this that is experiencing any manner of suffering takes as much out of that sentiment as I do.

Yours,

V ❤️

#personal note

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dedalvs · 3 days

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Hello David, love your work and i hope you are well! If you are still taking High Valyrian questions, I have one about the words for colors (or should I say color groups in this case...?). Was there a particular inspiration or reasoning behind which colors got grouped together under which word?

Thank you and have a nice day!

We know a lot about how color terms evolve over the years. There are some common patterns regarding when new color terms emerge. In conlanging, the goal is to figure out where on that trajectory your conlang's speakers lie (assuming they're humans and the evolution is more or less natural). The landmark study was done by Berlin and Kay in 1969. The snapshot version of it is this:

STAGE 1: white vs. black

STAGE 2: white, black, red

STAGE 3: white, black, red, green, yellow

STAGE 4: white, black, red, green, yellow, blue

STAGE 5: white, black, red, green, yellow, blue, brown

STAGE 6: everything

High Valyrian is at stage 3. Now, it's very important to remember that we're talking about the development of color terms, not color perception. Individual variation aside, human eyes are the same and perceive things just as well now as they used to. That is, just because a language has fewer color terms doesn't mean those speakers can't distinguish between the two colors. Consider that we can have varying shades of what we would call sky blue and just because we'd call them all "blue" or even call them all "sky blue" doesn't mean we can't pick out a pattern going from dark to light and repeating quite easily. Basically, as differentiating color becomes more commercially important, more terms emerge.

So, long story short, I decided it would be good for High Valyrian to be at stage 3, because then it would be more interesting for the daughter languages. That is, if there's no distinction between blue and green (both kasta), maybe northern daughter languages have kasta as "blue" and take some other word for "green" based on "leaf", or something, while the southwestern languages use kasta for "green", and maybe add iēdar "water" on the front of kasta for "blue", or something like that. Thus the daughter languages can be grouped by the new color terms that developed as their speakers left the Valyrian Peninsula and settled in their new home. If High Valyrian was already stage 6 the result would be far less interesting.

That's the story behind it. :)

#conlang #language #game of thrones #hbo #valyrian #linguistics #hotd #house of the dragon #got #color #color theory #color term #high valyrian #bastard valyrian #low valyrian

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teddypickerry · 2 days

Text

in honor of prom season i’m thinking about the absolute robbery it was not having lane and rory in pretty little dresses. their cute little boyfriends going with them, the perfect little y2k prom that was in every show/movie at that time (can you tell i romanticize prom in films because i was ‘too cool’ to go to any of my own? … i still don’t regret it).

i think it would’ve been nice to have one final rory and jess scene where it shows genuinely how much he cared for her. he’s doing something he’s uncomfortable with for her sake. she’s got him **kind of** slow dancing in a crowd of people he hates in a button up. ugh. prom jess please come back. but MORE importantly, i’m thinking about what rory would’ve worn duh.

haven’t duhed in awhile…. anyways. they always incorporated blue in her wardrobe for events. because of course, that perfect icy blue looks killer on the gilmore girls. even made it sookie’s bridesmaid dress colors just for that sake. so it’s safe to say that’s the color she went with.

heading to pinterest, these were some of the first blue dresses i found in style at the time. the second one isn’t exactly her favorite blue shade and both of them have beading. that trend feels a little too ‘cool’ for rory.

now, i would’ve really liked to see rory in a classic audrey hepburn style neckline. but she was a teenager going to prom, so i’m not gonna plea with her to play 60s mod girl.

skipping to dresses that i actually think she’d like:

i noticed in gg that rory never really wore tight fitting/revealing clothing (ever) until after graduation. which was pretty different than the trend at the time (and probably forever for teenagers). but as she graduated chilton, she slowly started growing out of her teen t-shirt phase (i am still in my t-shirt phase, do not think i’m hating). rory AND jess both wore purple during that scene where she’s scolding him in his cute little jean jacket. this purple dress could definitely be a nod to that. and even though it’s not her typical blue, i think it would be a really pretty change. also her long layered hair was so pretty in season 3, it would’ve looked so good with this dress.

now, out of the three blue dresses selected, i think the second one is giving stars hollow high prom. however it’s also reminding me of lorelai’s dress in season 5. do with that what you will. i think this could be a cool nod that she’s becoming more like her mom as she grows up. but it’s also her indulging in trend at the time, while remaining her authentic self. i’m totally overthinking this.

regarding lane, i’m still on the fence what she’d make possible. would she have a secret dress from mrs kim? or would she actually like what mrs kim allowed her to wear? would lorelai sew her something and hide it in the school bathroom? i don’t know yet. maybe we’ll get into that another time.

what do you think?

#let me know your thoughts #i wonder what song would’ve played as rory and jess danced #we totally missed out #teddypickerry #gilmore girls #jess mariano #rory gilmore #lane kim #rory’s prom #literati prom #gilmore girls blurb #gilmore girls rants

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redrum-alice · 12 hours

Text

ABA x Paracelsus HCs that live in my mind rent-free, even though I haven't played the game--

Some of these HCs include other characters involved in their arcade mode.

ABA is no stranger to stalking people. So when she came across a lookout point, she saw many couples, mostly teenagers, making out and going on romantic dates. She wonders what it would feel like to be young and in love, rather than just declaring someone whom she met first glance as a "husband"

ABA's collection of keys were hidden somewhere in the pocket dimension. She sometimes uses them as accessories to adorn herself, despite the like of knowledge in fashion (the girl wears pants as a top--)

There are many shades of blue that ABA can pick from. Since Paracelsus turned himself blue, the shiny surface reflected more colors than just blue, inspiring her to try and appreciate other colors near the blue gradient.

Added to the color stuff, she eventually tries variation of outfits with other colors, but with blue as the base.

Paracelsus knows when she's feeling fatigued. When she's at her limit, he opens the pocket dimension and lets her rest there until she wakes up. ABA sees this as his love language, but unintentional on his part

Both ABA and Paracelsus have no clue on how homonculi biology works, and Paracelsus hates to admit he feels bad that ABA may be at risk of getting herself hurt without him knowing what to do

Paracelsus wishes he knows more about human anatomy because its the closest one to ABA's physiology.

Since ABA is clairvoyant, she often hears the spirits of their victims which she tries to ignore, and probably because she doesnt know the correct response to a wailing dead person wanting justice. When its too much, she asks Paracelsus if what theyre doing was justified and that she begins to regret her rage filled jealousy directed at those that dont even bother them.

Paracelsus keeps telling ABA that she needn't to worry because it was a necessity for the both of them-- something he deeply regrets to say because he knows she has strong principles that she live by despite not being a human

Paracelsus, deep down, is ashamed of himself for tainting ABA for the purpose of tending to his bloodlust. He saw how genuine and pure hearted she is, but it turned into malice because of his demonic origin. He begins to wonder what ABA would be like if she found someone else years ago.

Just like ABA, Paracelsus has an unspoken fear of abandonment, but since he lacks capacity to feel other emotions, he doesnt notice this.

Ever since Elphelt and Testament approached her with good intentions, ABA wanted to make more friends like them, but is scared that others have ill intentions toward her and Paracelsus.

ABA's favorite book would be Alice in Wonderland when she was still in Frasco, specifically the part where Alice was trapped in a room or multiple doors with the smallest door being the exit. ABA admires this because of the concept of escaping, especially that there's a key involved. (Im biased bc my name's Alice and i like this story--)

Besides door keys, she also collects windup key and smaller keys for chests and compartments. She sees this as a symbol for discovering new things, especially music when she came across a music box that needed a key

Speaking of music boxes, she associates this object with Elphelt bc of her musical talent (and that she may as well look like the ballerina spinning on the music box)

Other than doors, music boxes, and compartments, she also came across a small doll that needed a key. After she winds it up, it began walking and talking towards her and freaks her out. But when it said "mama" in a robotic voice, ABA contemplates and wonders if she was ready to become a parent somewhere in the near future when Paracelsus has a body. An impossible thought, but one could never be sure, and it scares her.

Butterfly Pea tea with brown sugar, or sparkling butterfly pea lemonade with honey would probably her favorite drink because of its color. She shares this with her hubby 🥰😋

There comes a time that her bandanges would get uncomfortable and smell bad from blood stains and wounds, so Paracelsus tells her she needs to change them before she gets an infection. He does stop her midway because he realizes she isnt wearing any undergarments and proceeds to take her in the pocket dimension.

Elphelt offers ABA to shop with her to pick clothes suited for her. The first thing she sees at the boutique display was a wedding dress and begins to day dream a wedding with Paracelsus. Without her looking, Elphelt happily buys the wedding dress with matching tuxedo and gives it to ABA, despite Paracelsus' protests (the fact that he hears them chatting about setting up the wedding next day had him ded on the spot :P)

ABA watches home video tapes left in houses unoccupied by their owners (abandoned or they went on vacation; ABA is a home intruder lol). She finds a tape labeled "Happy Day" and it plays a recording of a newly wed couple dancing at their reception. The way the couple moved gracefully tickled an idea in her brain and insisted she and Paracelsus should dance. But since the large key doesnt have any legs, her attempts in waltzing with him went nowhere 😅 (and this gave more reason for ABA to find a body for Paracelsus)

At late nights when ABA is asleep, Paracelsus wonders that if he had a body, would ABA still be shorter or they would be in the same height? Either way, he was impressed that she can keep herself up with that low weight despite her tall stature, more so on how she was able to carry him around without much muscle mass.

When he sleeps beside her, her hair unwittingly falls on his bow and feels how soft it is. A very pleasant feeling he won't admit.

Everyday, Paracelsus keeps reminding ABA that she needed to eat to gather strength. ABA often forgets to eat because its not hard wired in hr system, nor that it was even natural for her to eat in the first place.

#aba and paracelsus headcanons #aba & paracelsus #aba x paracelsus #aba guilty gear #a.b.a x paracelsus #paracelsus guilty gear #paracelsus #guilty gear strive #a.b.a guilty gear #guilty gear

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epicfranb · 1 day

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I think of the quiet days ethubs are hanging out, just sitting there on the bridge and listening to the birds chirping and the leaves rustling underneath and they're just silent. Bdubs is making some bracelet, taking upwards of 5 minutes on deciding which bead goes where, and Etho lies on his lap, eyes closed, humming something while stroking Bdubs wherever he can reach, and Bdubs ruffles Etho's hair sometimes and they giggle about it. Sometimes they say something, like Bdubs asking for a second opinion on the color choice, or Etho pointing out a cloud's funny shape, but it never breaks the silence. It's as natural as the river gurgling underneath or the bunnies and squirrels squeaking in the forest, it's just a part of life. Soon, a big cloud that lended them its shade floats away, and they squint and decide to move under the shadows of the trees. Etho says he has to go actually but just before he gets on his horse, he leans down a little bit for Bdubs to kiss him, which he knew was coming, and they linger a little bit as though they're not gonna see each other again in ages even though they meet every day. When Bdubs watches Etho ride his horse away from his base, Etho doesn't even turn around to wave at him, and they both know it's because they'll see each other again in just a few hours

#life updates #ethubs #hermitshipping #my fic #<- ig??? i wanna save this

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lamemaster · 2 days

Text

Loving the Maelstrom

Pairing: Maedhros x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Perks of marrying a writer. Nelyafinwe pov.

AN: Istg I get the most random ideas while working out.

Curvo bounced the fussing Tyelpe in his arms, his brow furrowed in concern. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Maitimo sighed for the what felt like the hundredth time that evening. He glanced across the room at you, your face lit by the flickering firelight. A vicious smirk was etched upon your lips, your eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity as you stared into some unseen distance. "She's writing a villainess," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

The murmur seemed to quench everyone's curiosity, at least momentarily. Except for Tyelkormo, who perked up at the revelation. "A villainess?" he echoed, his eyes wide with fascination. "Is that why Kano's been playing such… ominous tunes lately?" he asked, directing his question towards a very tired-looking Nelyafinwe.

Before Nelyafinwe could muster a reply, Moryo, ever the impatient one, interjected. "Makalaure, for the love of Illuvatar, can we please have a normal tune?" he pleaded, his voice laced with exasperation

Both you and Kano paused for a fleeting second. Your minds snapped into the present world before grinning widely and Kano launched into another melancholy somber tune. This time, accompanied by your booming evil laughter.

Such perhaps was the fate of loving a writer. He had known it well as Kano’s brother. A songwriter and musician's angst was familiar to Maitimo. And yours was similar yet, so achingly different.

Where Kano’s music seldom bled into his life, your words lingered in a pervasive presence. The angst of separated lovers, fervor of a brewing war, or the grit of a dwindling hero, you were lost in your worlds even before Maitimo met you.

And when he did meet you, he also met your worlds. Gay, morose, bleak, grand, your worlds were his now. Your character settled into his thoughts. And sometimes, they carried a part of him or his family. Small fragments of your life that bled into your worlds.

He liked your never-ending ramblings about a crooked character or exceptionally hard-to-write down plot. And he witnessed your fall into the world who possessed your mind and heart.

Despite the differences in art, you and Kano were inseparable in the creation of art. His tunes often rang out from your and Maitimo’s home as you scribbled away another tale. While Kano’s music was given a direction of melodies from the stories you wove into the tunes he tinkered around with.

And this was the rare occasion where both you and his brother were taken by a story so bewitching that from the strums of Kano’s harp to the rouge of your lips- all was tainted with a lingering shade of sinister.

It had been a week since your robes had been swapped for uncanny dark silken gowns, very much not your usual choice of color, your nails were painted a hue darker almost bloodlike. Even the decor of your study had shifted ambiance similar to that of the Maiar of Namo.

On several occasions, Maitimo had seen you stir your dinner with a smile so venomous that he sniffed his food twice before eating it.

You donned a gait so seductive that he, almost was tempted to discard the weekly family dinner with his parents. Yet, despite the unease that gnawed at him, Maitimo couldn't deny the jolt of excitement that shot through him when your newly painted nails, tipped with a crimson that seemed to mock innocence, brushed against his arm.

“I just hope sister-in-law and Kano are not going down the Mairon route of life.” Curufin’s words brought Maitimo back to the present.

The dinner had ended surprisingly well. Kano’s company had perhaps allowed you to shed the world that captivated you these days for a few moments. You were back to your normal self smiling by his side. Helping his mother and brothers set up the dinner table as twins climbed all over Maitimo.

It was only later in the night when his breath shuddered. He gasped as your lips ghosted over his ears. Filthy words spoken without a care of the oddly lonely alley on the way back to your home. Words so daringly sacrilegious that they would have sent a Vanya to the halls of Irmo.

Maitimo however, was nothing if not immune to the intricacies of your play and definitely not a faint-hearted Vanya. Pulling you closer in his arms, he indulged your little world. Tracing the shape of your lips with his fingers, he kissed you with a wicked smile.

Nelyafinwe loved every part of you. Even the fucking crazy ones.

(This one definitely more than the angsty lovers)

#silmarillion x reader #the silmarillion #maedhros x reader #fluff #maglor #maedhros fluff #drabble #Caranthir #little Tyelpe

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winniemaywebber · 2 days

Text

The Apple Tree • Part 6

Rosie Rosenthal x Reader

warnings: 18+, soft dom, oral (m & f giving and receiving), sexual intercourse.

“Ready to go?” Sally saunters through the door of the schoolhouse, her skirt swaying in the cool breeze emanating from the doorway. You're midway through shoving a biscuit in your mouth as she slams through, distracting you and causing you to almost choke on a stray crumb.

“That's one way to make an entrance,” you say, feeling your face reddening from straining, trying to keep a cough at bay. “You're early,” you tell her, your eyebrow raised. “It's only three.”

“R-right…” she begins, her eyes darting around the room. “Just thought, since it's Friday and everything, you should get some extra time at home. Y'know, refresh before the weekend, be ready for tonight–”

“Tonight?” you cut her off. “We're only going to the bloody pub, Sal. They've seen me looking the least refreshed possible.”

“Yes, hm, I know but, uh–” she pauses, and you spot the telltale sign that she's keeping something from you: the corner of her mouth is twitching as she struggles to come up with a lie. Just like she can read you like a book after all these years, you're able to do the same with her. You peer at her, your eyebrow still raised, sighing at her.

“Fine, okay. I'll go home and be ‘refreshed’,” your fingers making air quotes around the word. “But if I find out you're keeping something from me, you're in for it, lady.” You poke at her, then giggle to show her you're joking as her face drops and starts graying. “Come on then,” you sigh, wiping the last of the biscuit crumbs from your pants and closing your notebooks, placing them in a drawer in preparation for the new week.

---

James is stood outside under the apple tree, smoking a cigarette and munching an apple, taking alternate bites and puffs of the cigarette. As he sees the pair of you coming towards him and catches sight of Sally, the worst happens. Watching him as if in slow motion, he bites down on the cigarette, his face contorting as he realizes what he's done. You and Sally break into a peal of laughter, James’ face turning the same shade of red as the apple he'd been eating.

“Alright, leave it,” he drawls, his eyes slightly downcast before he erupts into laughter too. “Come on, chicks, let's get outta here.” Throwing the bitten cigarette into the makeshift trash can (a bucket the children had painted and then nailed to a post), you begin in the direction of your cottage.

—

It's halfway through the walk that you spot a familiar figure in the distance. Back slightly scrunched, clutching his hat with the same anxiety that seems to always be racing through his body, is Harry Crosby.

“Croz!” James yells, raising a hand in greeting.

“Harry Crosby. A pleasure, as always.” you say as he nods at you, winking at James.

“This is all very nice,” you start. “But what's going on?” You look between the three of them, all of them trying their best not to make eye contact with you. Sally's lips begin to purse and, once again, that mouth twitch. You grip her by the shoulder to get her to look at you. “Out with it, Sally.” She giggles, shaking her head and looks over at her man. He lifts his hands up, as if to say he's not breaking either.

“Harry?” Your eyes squinting toward him, knowing that he'll be the one to crack. His face turns pale as he shifts from one foot to the other as you see the cogs turning in his head, trying to formulate a believable lie.

“Oh, errrm, it's uh–just, well, Rosie…” You feel Sally and James shoot him a darted glance and you hear James sigh.

“Come on, man! You were doing so good!”

“I'm–I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just–” he struggles to hide a smile, his hand covering his mouth as the color comes back to his cheeks.

“You'd all better tell me what's going on, you cheeky little–”

“No,” Sally says pointedly, smiling at you, linking arms with James. “Let's just get you home, and then you'll see.”

—

You're a few steps away from your cottage when you see someone pacing from your front door to your white picket gate. Harry, Sally and James look towards you, all smiling as they see you let out a gasp. Shooting a glance at the three of them, you break into a full sprint towards your home. Not bothering to try and unlatch the gate, you leap over it and into Rosie's arms. There's a second of silence before you're both laughing in relief, you letting out an excited yelp as he lifts you off the ground.

“Oh, Rosie,” you murmur into him, his lips finally capturing yours in a tender kiss.

“Hi, sweetheart,” kissing you again as he puts you down. Noticing the tears trickling from your eyes, his own eyes widen. “Hey now, pretty girl,” he says softly, taking you in his arms again. “Don't cry, shhh, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry,” you choke out, gulping through your tears. “I just missed you so much, and…oh, it's been horrible.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he soothes, your head on his chest and him stroking your hair. You feel his breath shake a little, his hand stroking your back. “I missed you more.”

“Not possible,” you sniffle, looking up at him. He places his hand on your face and kisses you deeply.

“I can't tell you how many nights I dreamt of doing this while I was away, just being with you. Kissing you, holding you. It's all that spurred me on, in fact.” He pauses, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just wanted to come home to you.”

You hear the gate click open, pulling you from your little bubble with Rosie. You turn to see your friends with huge grins on their faces, Sally's eyes glistening with tears.

“Are you all coming in?”

“No, we're gonna be leaving you to it,” James says, winking cheekily. “We'll see yall tomorrow!”

—

Entering the house, you and Rosie both remove your jackets and place them on the coat hooks by the door. Without thinking, you go into autopilot, walking to the kitchen to boil a pot of water for tea. Lighting a match to turn the gas on, you feel Rosie's arms around your waist. Leaning over your shoulder, he blows the match out, and turns you around to face him. He kisses you so deeply that it takes your breath away, his lovely big hands pawing all over your body. You feel yourself pushed against the stove, the weight of the two of you against it causing it to move out of place. Giggling, you break apart.

“Do you want tea, or not?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“No,” He kisses you again, humming into you. “I just want you.”

You feel yourself being picked up and carried over to the dining table on the opposite side of the room. He sits you down upon it, and without hesitation, your legs wrap around his waist to get him as close to you as possible.

“Woah, hold on, honey,” he laughs, his hands on your thighs. He starts pressing light kisses to your neck before giving it a small nip with his teeth, making you gasp. “Let me take my time, yeah?” He looks back at you, his blown pupils overtaking his baby blue eyes. You nod in agreement, reaching up to kiss him again. “Good girl,” he purrs, his lips meeting yours.

The kiss deepens, you gasping for air as he toys with your belt, reaching out to unbutton his shirt. You get two buttons open when he pushes your hands away, placing them gently on the table. “No, honey,” he says breathlessly. “Wait your turn.”

“B-but…” you stutter, confused. “I need to touch you, I haven't touched you in months. Please, darling.”

“No,” he repeats, his hands returning to your belt. “Not until I've taken care of you first.” In a swift movement, he's pulled your belt loose and unbuttoned your trousers, untucking your shirt painstakingly slowly. It takes everything in you to not rip it off yourself, and he sees your hands begin to move from their position on the table.

“Nu-uh,” he looks at you pointedly, those damn pretty eyes full of want. “Do as you're told. Hands down.” With a frustrated moan, you slam your hands back down on the table, Rosie back to kissing and nibbling at your neck and collar as he unbuttons your blouse, his mustache adding that delicious tickle and roughness you'd missed so much. You feel yourself white knuckling the table as he sucks and nibbles his way across your front, removing your brassiere nimbly.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, his mouth making its way down lower to your chest.

“Please, Rosie,” you beg, his mouth hovering over your puckered nipple. “Please let me touch you.” It all comes out as a whine, your brow furrowed with frustration.

“Look at you,” he purrs in that deep, husky voice. “Begging like that.” You try to moan, but it comes out as more of a high-pitched whine as he takes your nipple into his mouth, his fingers fiddling with the other before switching sides. Your hands find themselves in his curls and he doesn't object.

“Finally,” you sigh. Your fingers run through his hair, tickling through his scalp as he gets lower, gesturing you to lift your hips up to remove your panties. You're already a glistening mess, and you whimper as he looks you up and down.

"Shit, honey,” he says, eyes widening as he surveys the area. “You really missed me, huh?”

“I did, I did, I really did, baby,” you mewl, groaning at the sight of him finally removing his shirt. You drink the sight of him in, looking at several new scars and cuts upon his chest and arms. Kneeling down in front of you, his hands on your thighs, he slowly pushes his tongue through your folds, moaning as he does so. “Taste even better than I remember, sweet girl.” Your hands find their way back into his hair, tugging lightly every time he hits the right spots. Just as you're about to reach your peak, he slips a finger inside you, the come hither motion toppling you over the edge. He laps up your release with a moan, your grip released from his curls.

Before you can even come down from your high, he's lifting you up again, wrapping your legs around him as he carries you upstairs. It's a struggle to get the bedroom door open as he insists on still holding you there, the both of you breaking into laughter as you fight with the doorknob.

“These damn old British houses,” he laughs, resigning to putting you down and forcing his way in. You take him by the hand and pull him into the room, your hands ending up on either side of his neck to pull him into a kiss. Trailing down his body, you stroke at the bulge in his slacks, causing him to moan into your mouth.

“Your turn, Major,” you whisper, kneeling down in front of him.

“Oh, God…” his voice trails off at the sight of you unbuttoning his pants, freeing his length from his underwear. Collecting the beads of moisture with your thumb that have appeared at the pretty pink tip, you stroke him, seeing his eyes roll back into his head before taking him into your mouth. He moans at the sensation of your tongue working its way around him, breathing heavily within moments. He puts his hand at the back of your head to keep the rhythm he enjoys most, his eyes remaining closed in heavenly ecstasy. You look up at him, somehow smiling with your mouth full, heat building in your stomach at the sight of this beautiful man about to lose his mind because of you.

His hands untangle from your hair, and begin to stroke your face, pushing your chin away from him. “On the bed, babydoll,” he says, out of breath, cheeks flushed and pupils blown. “I need to be inside you.”

As you lay there, waiting, you catch sight of his behind in your vanity mirror, the slightly faded tan of his peachy butt a delicious view. His strong thighs, the backs of his equally strong arms and that wonderful back of his turn you on even more than you already are, from what was it he once said? ‘Piloting a school bus like a fighter jet.’

“Are you ogling me, Y/N?” he teases, a playful grin on his lips

“Yes, Major. Yes, I am.” You smile back, winking at him. He hurriedly plants a kiss on your nose, still smiling.

“God, I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling. Now, please,” you moan, pulling him closer by hooking your finger on the chain of his dog tag. “Please fuck me.” His eyes widen at your request, biting his lip as he lines himself up at your entrance.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Both sighing - all that pent up frustration being released - as he enters you, he gives you a minute to adjust to him. You grip the curls on the back of his neck as he begins to pump in and out of you, noses touching, breaths mingling.

“Fuck, honey,” he pants. “You feel so good. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, sweet boy. More than you'll ever know.”

Within minutes, you reach your second orgasm of the day, him murmuring praise as he watches you ride it out. “There you go, pretty girl,” he mumbles into your skin. “Told you I'd take care of you.” He begins to kiss your neck as his thrusts become sloppier, spilling into you moments later. Breaths shaking, he pulls out of you and you whine at the emptiness. He rushes to the bathroom to clean off, bringing a warm wet washcloth for you.

You pull the duvet back and pat the spot - his spot - on the bed beside you. Before you've even finished wordlessly asking, he's in the bed, pulling you on top of him to snuggle. You bury your face deep in his neck, breathing him in and never wanting to forget his scent. You kiss him repeatedly, before softly stroking and kissing the new scars on his body.

“Sweet boy,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Darling, beautiful man.” You feel him sigh underneath you, wondering if this is the first time he's been totally relaxed in weeks. You see his eyelids begin to get heavy, his face softening at your touch.

“Can I spend the night?”

“My love, you don't even need to ask. I'd let you spend every night in my bed if you were able to do so.”

“I'd love that,” he sighs, as much as he can muster in his exhausted state. You slip off him and onto your own pillow.

“Hmmm…” you feel him drifting off, not before he leans over to kiss your nose, your cheeks and then your lips.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Rosie.”

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