Micaro



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    Five years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the wizarding world is what you might call “a godsdamned mess.” The population is dwindling, the economy is suffering, and Hermione Granger has decided to pursue an arranged marriage—but only so she can be nominated to the antiquated Wizengamot, of course. After all, the Wizengamot is ignoring the world’s problems, and Hermione is determined to fix them. Granted, she never expected to be matched with Draco sodding Malfoy—the newest DMLE consultant who wears his Azkaban tattoos as proudly as his childhood sneer. But admittedly, between the turbulence of her farcical relationship, corrupt politicians, and a serial killer on the loose, nothing in Hermione’s life is going according to plan. Maybe hate sex with her husband will help?

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    04 Jan 2026

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    "All right, I know I'm going to regret asking this," Aziraphale says. "What exactly does this wager entail?"

    Crowley grins like the cat that not only got the cream but has absconded with the entire cow. He grabs the bottle and swigs straight from it despite Aziraphale's tut of disapproval.

     "The pot goes to whichever demon can get an angel into bed by the end of the evening."

     AKA The Fic That Tumblr Made Me Write. Heaven and Hell share a corporate party once per millennium. This time someone's had the bright idea of issuing a challenge to the demons of Hell. Crowley has no intention of missing the opportunity; Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to make him work for it.

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    25 Dec 2025

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    “Uh—thanks for stopping by the way. You know, you’re the first person to even slow down, but I guess I’d be pretty wary of someone hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere, especially this late. I could be a serial killer for all you know. ”

    That earns him a quiet huff of a laugh.

    “I think the likelihood of two serial killers winding up in the same car is pretty slim.” The guy says, then looks at him.

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    11 Oct 2025

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    “Easy puppy,” Vegas chides, but his tone is indisputably fond that Pete disregards it. What he doesn’t like is the way Vegas stops sucking on his finger to speak.

    “Feels good,” Pete pouts, voice small.

    “I know.” Vegas flicks his tongue out and down Pete’s finger, pressing his lips against each knuckle, slow and steady. Pete shivers at the attention and he wiggles closer to Vegas, wanting more but not knowing how to ask.

    Something about Vegas is magnetic. Intoxicating. All consuming. And call Pete foolish but he wants to be consumed until there is nothing left.

    “Food first,” Vegas reminds him, his lips brushing Pete’s fingers in a constant tease. “But then…” he trails off meaningfully, and Pete can’t help the way he leans into him, desperate for a kiss, for a caress. Vegas lets their noses brush together and then pulls back.


    Or, Vegas and Pete start dating (and exploring kink more) and Pete has an obscene amount of insecurities about it.

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    21 Sep 2025

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    Peter had been noticing it; Neal didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat much, he didn’t crack jokes sometimes even with the window for one wide-open and clear for him. Even Peter’s “I can do whatever I want with you” crap that he was always tossing out at him didn’t get the same reaction that it once had. When he said things like that, Neal’s face went blank and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t get mad about it, didn’t even get his feelings hurt. Peter had been dropping a few hints here and there about Neal’s health lately, but hadn’t yet come right out and said anything. Neal figured it was because, no matter what was wrong with him, he still did the work. Maybe he didn’t give Peter enough credit, but sometimes he figured Peter didn’t deserve much credit. Neal counted on him leaving him mostly alone as long as he wasn’t off his game, and he wasn’t.

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    15 Sep 2025