#>beaches

[ryescapades-archived]

*ੈ‧₊༺ SANDY BEACHES AND SINFUL BLISS.

characters: itoshi sae (bllk) x afab!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! explicit, unprotected p in v, fingering, semi-public, implied masturbation, anal/double pen. (use of a toy), hickeys, backshots, blindfolds, dirty talk, petnames (amor, baby, babe, love), established rs, sae takes a pic of u (lmk if there's more ..) wc ~ 2.2k

a/n: a generalized version of another secret santa entry !!

Spain's beaches are always a sight to behold, no matter the time of day.

The sun has long disappeared into the horizon, the sky now pitch black with only the night lights from the festivities a few metres away illuminating the area. The balcony you’re currently lounging on is two-storey high, the sound of joyful chatters and laughter filling your ears as a cool draught of air softly whips over the tresses of your hair.

Leaning against the railing as your eyes remain locked on the waves gently lapping up the shore, you tuck a loose strand behind your ear and reminisce about the times you’d spent in other wonderful places such as this, most of the time courtesy of your boyfriend.

Sae, the ever-so-nonchalant man that he is, rarely says it outright, but you know he loves having you around, loves having you close and within his reach, loves knowing you’re there waiting for him after each grueling day. Why else would he always have two tickets ready whenever he has an away game if not to bring you along on his trip? Why else would he book an entire beach house instead of staying at the hotel like the rest of his teammates?

Sure, the hours when he’s away for practice would feel a little lonely at times, but that’s the more reason for you to anticipate his return, for the reward he’d been saving for you at the end of the day will only grow sweeter.

Life with Sae can be gradual and relaxed, yet thrilling in the way that he would try to explore anything and everything with you, if only you’d so much as ask for it.

Life with him makes you feel… full. In more ways than one.

The sound of the door unlocking catches your attention, and the soft pitter patter of footsteps that follow only sends a rush of excitement through you. Soon enough, a pair of rough hands settle on your hips, a strong chest leaning against the span of your back.

“Have you been good, amor?” Your boyfriend whispers in your ear, his breath brushing against your skin almost in a seductive way. No ‘hi, hello, how’s your day?’ and whatnot. He gets straight to the point, as always.

That’s your man alright.

The corner of your lips curls upwards. “Hello to you too. What can I help you with today?” You cheekily ask.

The redhead scoffs, though in a lighthearted way. “You could help me with many things, love. How about we start with answering my question first, hm?” He says, causing you to playfully pout at his response, “Well, what do you think?”

Sae’s hands start to slowly move up and down on the side of your waist, warmth seeping from his touch through your clothes. A meek gesture, giving and nearly domestic in a way if not for the promise behind his next words.

“If I tell you what I think, you wouldn’t be able to properly stand in the next few minutes, amor.” He murmurs, hands drifting lower beneath the shirt you’re wearing before his fingers firmly spreads your asscheeks.

A gasp is pulled out of your mouth, the buttplug you’d been keeping inside you accidentally dragging against your ribbed walls from his ministrations.

He already figured it out, hasn’t he?

You were supposed to stay good. Keep the plug nice and warm inside your hole, no touching nor masturbation whatsoever until he gets back. But how could you not?

When Sae kept sending you those godforsaken thirst traps from his gym and practice sessions? The way his sinewy muscles stretched oh so deliciously against the fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt, the way his thick veiny thighs were bulging after the rigorous workout, and the freaking post-session shower?

You should’ve been considered a saint for the only thing you did was get yourself off one time the whole day with your fingers.

“Can’t blame a girl for having such wild fantasies,” you huff, feeling his fingers dipping into the heat between your thighs. With the lack of underwear on your side, Sae lowly hums when he makes contact with your slick, sounding both pleased at himself and dissatisfied with your answer.

“Well, would you look at that… you’re still dripping wet. This all from the pics I sent you?” Your eyebrows pinch together, trying to come up with a sarcastic remark as you eye the people who are walking by in the distance.

“I –“

“Fingers or tongue?” Sae cuts you off, catching you off guard. “W-wait – here?” You ask as you finally turn to look at him. His auburn hair softly blows with the night wind much like your own, and Sae tentatively reaches up to brush a hand through it. His lidded teal eyes gauge yours with a perfectly raised eyebrow as if in challenge.

You’re not one to say no to any of his advances, of course. After all, you’re just as freaky insatiable as he is, if not more.

Seeing an answer enough from the relaxed expression on your face, Sae decides for you. “My fingers it is then.”

Almost immediately, he plunges two digits into your sopping cunt, causing you to let out a surprised squeal. Gripping hard on the railing, your body starts squirming as he straight away sets a quick pace.

“Oh shit, Sae–“ Your breath trembles with each thrust of his thick fingers, more of your juices trickling down the inside of your thighs.

He doesn’t let up his speed. If anything, it only seems like he’s going faster with how much louder the gushing sound of your pussy can be heard. Your back bows slightly over the railing from how hard he’s going, though you don’t stay there long before you swivel your head back again, hand fisting at the collar of his crisp white shirt to roughly pull him down into a kiss.

Your little growl mixes with his grunt as your lips and teeth clash in a fiery dance. Your legs are on the verge of trembling, and you’re so so close to coming on his magical fingers.

Your boyfriend has always enjoyed seeing you unravel before him, enjoyed seeing you come undone so quickly even when he’s not using his dick to fuck you silly. You’re so pliant, so malleable under his touch, and yet you still got that fire in you to somehow fight him back.

You’re an insufferable brat, but you’re his insufferable brat. One whose pussy that he loves making a mess of.

At this point you don’t even care about the mass of passerby who could probably see you even from that far away. They can watch for all you care. In this moment, only you and Sae and the earth-shattering orgasms he’s gracing you with exist in this world.

(Though you’re a bit glad the house he rented isn’t smacked right on the centre of the beach where lots of people will see if that was ever the case.)

“Come on, baby. Give me one before I have to fuck you dumb on my cock,” he mumbles. “Or do you need someone below to see how slutty you look right now, hm?” His other hand moves to the buttplug, slowly pushing it deeper inside your ass.

If it wasn’t in your stomach already, then it certainly is now.

You don’t bother giving him an answer because soon enough, you’re coming all over his hand with a whiny moan, your slick running down his wrist like rich honey.

Sae pulls his fingers out with a few last taps on your sticky clit, casually sucking and licking your cum off the digits before planting a kiss on the side of your head. “Good girl.”

True to his words, your legs feel like jelly from how hard he was going as you lean all your weight back against his body for support. Taking note of this, Sae spins you around before lifting you into his arms, walking you both to the bedroom just adjacent to the balcony.

All the while he’s carrying you inside, you mouth at the exposed skin of his neck, occasionally sucking and biting until the fair canvas turns raw and red from your teeth. He can reprimand (or punish) you later for giving him such visible hickeys where other people might notice. For now, you decide it’s best to indulge yourself first.

Sae sets you down onto the bed before he reaches down to pull his shirt over his head, helping you get your clothes off as well right after. “Turn around, amor. Let me see,” he instructs.

You know exactly what he means, and with a teasing smile thrown his way, you maneuver yourself to settle on your elbows and knees.

Your inner thighs are still coated with a light sheen of your arousal, wet and shiny under the dim light of the room. Using both his thumbs to soil the wetness further on your skin so near to your core, he takes in the way your cunt clenches around nothing as the plug sits cutely in your other hole. Without waiting any second longer, Sae unbuckles his belt to push his pants and boxers off, pumping himself a few times before guiding the tip against your tight entrance.

Your immense slick makes it so much easier for him to slide home, so warm and wet and tight around his cock. He lets out a low groan as your walls envelope him as easily as a sleeve, your pleased moan singing in his ears like a dirty melody.

Very much filled to the brim, both of your holes are so stretched out until there are tears clinging to your lashes.

“Fuck, stay right there, baby.” He bites down on his lips, hips stilling after bottoming out before reaching over to the nightstand, the movement causing his blunt head to involuntarily nudge against your cervix. Sae curses just as you keen at the contact, his hand grabbing the tie he’d left haphazardly after leaving the press event yesterday.

Breath hitching at the sight of the fabric in his hand, you let out a breathless chuckle as your cheek presses on the bed. “You wanna tie me up, babe?” You drawl teasingly, already half-drunk from the feeling of his cock filling you up.

A hint of a smirk appears on the midfielder’s lips. “In a way,” he replies. You’re about to ask what he means by that when he leans towards you, pulling the tie over your eyes instead, hiding away the hues he adores so much. “Oh,”

The grin on his face grows wider now that your sense of sight has been stripped away as he neatly knots the tie behind your head. “Yeah, oh.”

“Now hold on tight, would you?” That’s all the warning you get before he begins pistoning his hips against yours in a fervor, eliciting a choked moan out of your parted lips.

“O-oh, god - fuck!” The pleasure is intensified, zaps of electricity creeping up the back of your spine and piling over tenfold as the lack of vision only makes everything feels more sensitive and raw, amplified. “That’s it. Take my cock, amor.” His cock continues to drill into you, your cries and whimpers of his name and his deep grunts bouncing off the walls of the room.

Ass jiggling and drenched pussy lips stretching around his girth every time he plunges in, Sae has never seen such a staggeringly addicting sight in all his life.

He makes good use of the buttplug by shallowly moving it in and out, the dual stimulation making you bury your face into the comforter as you muffle your scream.

He can feel you clamping down on him, squeezing him so tightly that he swears he could see stars behind his lids. With both of you now close to reaching that peak, his pace only increases albeit becoming a little sloppier.

A few bruising thrusts later and you’re sent over the edge, your climax coursing over you like a tidal wave. Your pleasured cries become the final push that Sae needed before he quickly pulls out, roughly stroking himself using your cum until his own shoots out in thick ropes of white onto the globes of your ass.

He groans, a low throaty sound of satisfaction rumbling from his chest as he stares at the mess he left on your skin. Grabbing his phone that had dropped onto the bed sometime prior, he takes a quick snap before reaching over to slip the blindfold off.

Your eyes blink at the sudden brightness, thighs shaking and body spent as your top half remains laid on the bed. “Sae…? Did you just take a picture?” You ask out of curiosity from the brief sound you’d heard.

He gently pulls out the plug, rubbing at the sore skin when you let out a little yelp before he wipes his cum off your ass, smearing them right on your pussy instead. He then gives you a non-committal hum, “Yes. Now lay down properly. I’m not finished.”

Much to both of your delight, he’s not even close to being done with you. Hasn’t scratched the surface of what he had planned for you, even. Not now, not anytime soon.

You’re in for a long night ahead.

character development but it's just rye writing (lots of and more detailed) smut

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 chapter 13 part 1 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 13 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 295 to part 327.

Part 2 of this update will be out on the 10th of this month.

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

WOW awful way to start this update off 💀 They’re falling from the sky and L*ONA TAKES chARGE AnD THELLS tHe otHER thURD yEARSTO TO NOT juDt FALL BUT FucKING DO SmTH… So him, Cater, and Trey use wind magic to cushion everyone’s fall.

We land on the sandy beaches of Ace’s dream. Ortho picked this spot because it has the lowest chance of encountering darkness. (zbxjsbkwdhks Cute scene of L*ona shaking sand off of himself…) Ortho worries because he still has not regained connection with Idia’s tablet.

Sebek yoinks Grim out of the sand and checks on Yuu but ignores Adeuce, who are right next to us www

Trey initiates the card soldier roll call, with Ace counting off as 1, Deuce as 2, himself as 3, and Cater as 4. They realize Riddle isn’t there and panic until Leona informs them he’s probably in that “third layer” of his dream, where he is confronted with his truest, darkest self. Omg… Leona calls that third layer “the abyss” because there was nothing else there, just “the darkness, quietly opening its maw.” SO THAT’S WHY THIS BOOK IS CALLED RULER OF TGE ABYSS, EH…

Trey begins to worry like a dad looking for his lost child (Leona’s description, not mine lol). Leona tells Trey Riddle’s strong enough to hold his own in the abyss (which I guess is his way of reassuring Trey 😂).

Ortho expresses frustration that he can’t do anything right now. If he dream hops again without Idia’s cloaking + other tech support, Malleus will surely notice them. The group decides to try and recover for now. They also reassure Ortho that he has done a lot for them.

LEONA FUCKED OFF TO NAP, BTW 💀 Bro cannot be bothered to deal with a crying kid…

Silver like. Grabs Ortho and tries to squeeze him to help release tension from his muscles. It’s something Lilia taught him. Silver shares that he understands how he feels. Ortho continues to worry that they may “lose” Idia and that he’ll break his promise to their parents (to stop them from “losing” another son). HE STARTS CRYING… Sebek shouts at Trey to do something, because him just standing there and pointing out that crying’s expected in situations like this isn’t helping. So Trey strokes Ortho’s head and provides comfort.

Everyone kinda falls asleep together on the beach?? And Ortho hears his mom’s voice. Mr. and Mrs. Shroud appear via holograms!

Shroud parents tell everyone that Malleus has invaded Idia’s dream. For now, he cannot quite barge in due to the technomantic shield in place, but Idia can only hold him off for so long. They worry about the discovery of the cheat tool Idia was working on to help them fight Malleus. Mrs. Shroud shows them a photo of recent transmission from Idia’s dream. However, the quality is pretty bad.

LOL WHYmS THAT lOOK LIKE A MISSING chILD IMGAGE…

The Heartslabyul students spot Riddle in the corner of Idia’s picture. Ortho is a little relieved that Riddle can support him, but then the others point out that Riddle and Idia have clashing personalities + cannot get along. Trey says we should put our trust in those two…

Idia wants Riddle to keep Malleus busy while he works on the cheat tool. He provides Riddle with magic coding books and tells him to read them in 3 minutes or so???? Riddle claims it’s impossible but Idia goads him saying Riddle can memorize the Queen’s 810 laws and all school rules but not this??? His big head’s ready too full, so he can’t hold more info? Okay then stick a pacifier in your mouth and let us game over :v Riddle gets annoyed but then swears he’ll memorize all the coding manuals in 2 minutes, not 3, since he owes Idia for all of his help so far.

Uhhh I think they use a coding program thing (not sure of terminology) called Spell Forge. Riddle uses a stylus called InQuill to fill out the gaps in the protection spell’s construction, since he prefers doing things by hand rather than typing (Idia uses a unique keyboard with weird shaped keys and very few of them).

New mini game thing…? Where we basically just punch in the letters displayed up top.

Malleus is made aware of Riddle’s presence and tries to meddle using frost and electricity magic. Riddle has one more book to read… he likens the coding to solving a crossword puzzle.

Malleus breaks the door off?! But Idia needs Riddle to entertain him for 3 more minutes so he can finish his cheat tool.

AgHHHhHhHHH SudDENLy…?! Ignihyde-themed main screen reboot?!

YOu’RE JOKING…

TWST iS IdIA’/s FRiGGin’ CHEAT TOOL???????? 😭

Oh my god, he had Malleus trapped on the home screen and he cannot move without “player input” 😭

Boss!!!Idia has a cool new jacket that helps him optimize his performance. If he gets a new SSR, it might feature this jacket.

We also see S.T.Y.X.'s headquarters! On the large screens in the back, you can spot some battle map plans.

UMMMMMMM Idia summons us all as SSRs via the Mirror Chamber… HE SAYS THE SAME THING THE MIRROR OF DARKNESS DOES… The exact same animations for pulling them from the gacha play. I show one example with Ortho below, but he does this for all of the cast, excluding Lilia and Malleus. (D-Does this canonize our gacha pulls...?????)

... By the way, Idia hacked himself infinity gems and 999 keys + rigged the rates to always pull SSR OTL We all wish this was us…

We’re brought to HQ to talk about our next steps. Idia moves Malleus to various isolated battle maps (with that dorm’s members there) to slowly whittle him down. Each OB boy is granted the ability to take on their OB form, which enhances their powers. LMAO they all start complaining about how lame Dream Form Change is but Idia mutes them 💀

Silver, Sebek, Yuu, and Grim are with Idia, everyone else is with their dorm members. Yuu and Grim ate going to grant support on the battle maps via the Twst app 💀 Heals, buffs, that kind of thing. They’re being very literal with us being the strategist here. Ortho meanwhile is going to go wake up the staff (bless, idk if I could have handled like 60 extra parts of waking them up too).

Silver asks about Lilia, who wasn’t summoned. Idia says he was not able to bring Lilia since he never handed him an invite.

Silver lets everyone know that Lilia is his father. (asdhbasa Cater and Kalim think he was talking about a teacher..._

Pomefiore is especially touched by Silver’s love for his father, so they volunteer to be the first to step up and fight Malleus.

OKAY OKAY SO

There’s like 6 battle maps, each of them involving the OB boy changing into their OB forms and then kicking Malleus but Malleus still manages to resist every time. Idia has to intervene to prevent him from turning us into charcoal and isolate him to the next map. There’s a lot of extra dialogue on each map, but the gist of it is we see the members of each dorm fighting alongside each other, along with some commentary interjected from members of other dorms (via projections/holograms). I’m pretty sure this is meant to show how far they’ve come in willingness to cooperate with each other, because previous battle maps did not have nearly THIS much dialogue. Before going to the next battle map, we always get a brief scene of the next dorm chatting about what happened in their dreams and then psyching themselves up for their turn to bash Malleus.

Mrs, Shroud gets in contact with her son!! She had trouble because Idia kept her account blocked. He’s embarrassed to face his mom after she’s been digging around in his computer.

Mr. Shroud also appears! He lets us know that they’re looking for a mystium in order to craft weapons that can take Malleus down, since his dragon scales are very tough. Baur (in the real world, not the dream) has joined the search as well.

Silver and Sebek realized that Lilia’s magearm contains mystium. However, it was wrapped up and shipped to the Land of Crimson Long to join Lilia in retirement. Mr. Shroud moves to contact the countries the magearm would have to pass through to get to its destination. They MUST intercept the package!

Heartslabyul is happy to reunite with Riddle. He apologizes for causing them trouble, but Ace scolds their dorm leader for thinking he can order Cater + Trey to stop him and Deuce from trying to pull him from the darkness and then going missing for a while. And now Riddle thinks he can resolve things with a simple “sorry”? There’s so much more to say!

UHHHHHH Ace starts bawling and the seniors comfort him 💦 Riddle praises Adeuce for getting their UMs. Cater says Ace must be jealous that Trey comforyed Ortho earlier??? AcE wHInES THAT THE SENIORS ShOULD LOvE hiM AnD DEUCE Ghe mOst 😭 Bro… you chose now to unleash all of your brat energy…

LOL Ace wishes Riddle learned how to comfort people instead of magic engineering… He gives Riddle’s apology 30 points.

Riddle confirms he is one month older than Ace. The seniors say Riddle is an underclassman too and start being all “aww you guys are so cute!”

Mmm so after the battles, the participants are transported to a virtual infirmary space to recover.

chzjsvejdhoawjn Idia didn’t wake the teachers first because they’d just be annoying??? 😭 Not sure if I understood that part correctly.

Azul worries that they’re violating the other dreamers’ privacies by peering into their dreams via the STORY function of the app. He then decides he should peek anyway because the dreams may contain weaknesses and secrets he can take advantage of. Idia calls Octa away for their battle map before he can.

Oh, there’s a specialist mage known as a… Returner?? They can use long range transfer magic, even being able to transfer a large number of people across long distances. Sebek realizes that humans and fae can work together to minimize damage from Malleus’s magic.

They’re able to intercept the magearm!! Either Silver’s blessing, S.T.Y.X. begins to process it into weapons for Silver and Sebek to use.

Kalim casually asks Jamil how he’s doing 😭 (since his cheeks were swollen from Kalim punching him)… He mentions that he thinks Jamil and Azul are very similar (which Jamil is insulted by) and that he even though his dream!Jamil was fun, it wasn’t the real Jamil. “It was like looking into a mirror.” Kalim admits that even though some people cannot be friends (wow, character development for him??), it is those differences that make the world an interesting place. He prefers that kind of world.

Jamil agrees with Kalim. Jewels are called jewels and not stones because they’re hard to get. He’s sure that jewels are formed through hardship… a lot of heat and pressure.

LOL???? Kalim says it’s great they were able to make up. “Hah? When did we make up?” — Jamil, #1 Kalim Hater (Kalim also tries to plead with Malleus to stop this and make up, but of course that doesn’t work.)

Idia’s getting overwhelmed managing everything. Have no fear!! Ortho comes in with Ignihyde Mobs A, B, and C, who provide backup with their technical know-how!

LMxnhdsjafTahwj Leona’s chomping at the bit to beat up Malleus 😭 Later on, Ortho says he's so impressed with his group's teamwork, which Leona brushes off. sdhasbyofayil IDIA GETS MAD AT LEONA FOR BRUSHING OFF ORTHO'S HEARTFELT PRAISE

S.T.Y.X. finishes processing the mystium! They create the Sword of Truth and Shield of Virtue, as well as Harmonia Frame/Armor. When equipped, the armor will change into the shape that best suits its pilot.

The sword is given to Silver and the shield to Sebek. It’s the opposite of their stances in their Dorm Uniform cards—Silver is standing defensively but Sebek is standing offensively, yet the items they are granted are the reverse.

There’s a battery in the item(s???) that will allow them to fire off a powerful beam, but it is limited to 2 uses.

A dragon’s horns store magical energy and amplify power…? So you have to be careful with those. Apparently it is the horns that affect the weather, which is why Malleus’s mood alters it.

They think they can take Malleus out just by grazing the corner of his horns? So accuracy is important. Silver and Sebek will train in a virtual space to prepare.

Silver and Sebek say farewell to Yuu and Grim. Silver wants to be able to meet them again when he wakes up 😭 AWWWWW

Idia and Ortho go off to have their battle map with Malleus. WaH ORTHO 🥺 He says he and Idia were able to have an adventure at NRC… the same thing he promised when they were kids…

OH MY GOD WTF 💀

Idia uses his UM to open Tartarus and summon his own Phantom army to help him fight Malleus and his army of darkness. Phantom!Ortho rises up too??!!!?!! AND GE GOES BUMBBUMBUMB 😭 and compliments robo!Ortho’s new gear, calling it cute… 🥰

I can't believe all three Shroud brothers came together for this... INCLUDING THE DEAD ONE

Malleus keeps pushing his agenda and Idia counters by saying he hates having others impose their views on him. Does Malleus realize it yet? He’s a ruler of evil, not of good.

AHHHHHH crap OTL Malleus rescinds his blessing (because he finally realizes Idia and co. are only able to stand up to him because of dream hacking. But in the real world, they’re only a smidgen of his strength—so now he’s removing the thons and taking this fight into the real world.

THAT’S WHERE THIS UPDATE ENDS…

I did not think they would stretch the final fight out to be THIS long, but lo and behold, Twst proved me wrong 💀 Again, not a fan of this pacing but I understand what the thought process behind it probably was ("we need to show everyone working together, everyone needs their time to shine!"). I especially felt that Heartslabyul's segment was way too long, but perhaps that's a byproduct of how many members there are there??

asdilbyailbyraiyorqo3iyrt3768ot3aegoffwOI I THINK I SPEAK FOR ALL OF US WHEN I SAY MY MIND WAS BLOWN WHEN I SAW IDIA'S "CHEAT TOOL" WAS TWISTED WONDERLAND ITSELF 💀 To use the design of a mobile gacha game to contain the Big Bad, as well as to summon the heroes to save the day... That's so meta??? I just have no words for this other than that, I've been stunned into silence. How very fitting for the otaku to use THIS as his oh-so-clever solution 💦💦💦

Even though I want more than anything for book 7 to just END already, I will say that I liked how minor characters are being pulled into this fight as well. We have tons of support from the Shroud parents and S.T.Y.X. staff, Ortho going to fetch the NRC staff (I assume they will be appearing later?), other family members pitching in (Maleficia, Baur, OG!Ortho), and even RANDOM MOB STUDENTS. As a mob student appreciator, you cannot believe how much I love that for them. It feels like everyone genuinely plays an important role in this story, not just the main cast of NRC.

The highlight for me as definitely the Shroud brothers reunion. HJBDSBYIAFIS I KNOW IT'S JSUT A DREAM AND OG!ORTHO CAN'T ACTUALLY RISE FROM THE DEAD WHENEVER HE LIKES IRL BUT I LOVE THE IDEA OF WANTING TO STRIKE DOWN A MAN SO BAD YOU DEFY THE LAWS OF LIFE AND DEATH TO DO IT. He gets along so well with robo!Ortho and has a mischievously cute side to him 😭

This update makes mystium and its properties relevant again (it was mentioned like once in the beginning of book 7). It's so cool that what was Lilia's weapon of war back then is now reborn into a world-saving sword and shield for his disciples to use. It feels like a dad passing on his family heirloom to the next generation.

Speaking of Lilia???? Surely he'll rejoin us next time, right????? RIGHT??????? ?? ?? ??? ? Maybe with the staff??? And since the thorns have retreated... maybe we'll even get backup from RSA students and mages from other countries (since this is an international incident now)??????? ???? ? WILL ALL OF TWISTED WONDERLAND COME TOGETHER TO COLLECTIVELY KICK MALLEUS'S ASS...

UUUUUUUUUUGGHGHHHHHHHH H HHH H HHHHH HH H HH OTL *rakes hands over my face* My stomach's clenching in anticipation for the conclusion, but I'm not even sure if next time will even wrap everything up 💦 How will it go…? The 10th can’t come soon enough…

[raven-dor]

fall back into place

in which otto hightower returns, disrupting the peace his son and wife have built in Oldtown

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader, gwayne hightower x fem!reader, father!gwayne hightower x oc!children, mother!reader x oc!children

WARNINGS: otto hightower, fluff, gwayne is such a lover boy, disrespect, arguing, slight allusion to nsfw ig, kissing, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

🎶 : space song - beach house

AN: this could be read as a sequel to i wanna be yours (before their marriage) also you have two daughters: the eldest is Fiona, the youngest is Daenora

Your newborn babe was as quiet as a mouse, swaddled in the softest cloth you'd ever felt. That cloth, as your husband reminded you constantly, had swaddled countless Hightower babes, spanning from the very beginning of his house to now, your second child. 

“She is perfection itself, is she not?” His strong arms wrapped around you from behind, whispering so he would not wake the precious girl below you. “The spitting image of you.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Look at her wisps, my love.” You brushed her cheek, smiling at the way her face squeezed and legs stretched. “She has your hair.” 

“Perhaps.” He lowered his mouth to your neck, kissing gently. A bolt of shivers ran down your spine. “She has your eyes.” 

“Perhaps.” You turned in his hold, pushing a wayward hair out of his handsome face. “It is much too soon to tell. She is just a babe, Gwayne.”

“And yet she is exactly as I said. Perfection itself.” He leaned down, your lips inches apart. “Just like her mother.” 

You scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. “You flatter me.” 

“That is my duty.” He looked offended. “Have I not made that apparent?” 

“You have.” Since your courtship, Gods, since before your courtship, Gwayne had made it his mission to complement you at every turn. You found it annoying, incessant, but he did not care. You telling him to cease his constant flattery only worsened his affliction. 

“You are quite beautiful.” He placed a finger under your chin, brushing his thumb over your lower lip. “The Maiden herself does not amount to your-” 

You slapped a hand over his mouth, glaring. “You must not say such things.” 

He peeled your hand away, smirking as he kissed the back. “I will say whatever I like.” 

You scoffed, pulling yourself out of his hold. “You will wake the babe.” 

He followed after you, sparing one last look at your newborn daughter before shutting the door. “Will I now?” 

You nodded, eyes full of love and admiration for your husband. “What have I done to deserve you?” 

He reached out, grabbing your wrist and spinning you into his arms. “I was about to mention the same thing.” In less than a second, he grabbed your waist, throwing you over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold into your shared chambers. 

You gasped, smacking his back. “Gwayne Hightower! This is unbecoming of-” 

“I do not care.” He laughed. “You are my wife, this is my estate.” 

You raised an eyebrow, finding it difficult not to completely melt from his touch. “What has gotten into you?” 

He grabbed your waist once more, lowering you onto your bed as if you were a fragile doll. “Can a man not take pleasure in the fact that he has two lovely daughters and the most beautiful wife in the seven kingdoms?” 

You felt as if you would combust into flames. “You are too good to me, my love.”

He shook his head, arms on either side of you, as he lowered his frame. “I do not believe I am good enough, for a lady such as yourself deserves all the riches, all the love, all the fame this world has to offer.” 

“Gwayne-” You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck and closing the distance between you, giggling as he tumbled toward you. “Just kiss me.” 

“My lord?” A knock echoed through your chambers, and Gwayne’s head dropped into your neck. 

You frowned, running a hand through his auburn hair. “I believe that is for you, my love.” 

“My lord?” The servant’s voice rang out once more. “I was told this letter was urgent.” 

Gwayne groaned, peeling himself away from you. “Do not move.” 

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yes, my lord.” 

He smirked, muttering under his breath. “You are incorrigable.” Throwing open the door, he fought the intense urge to glare at the young servant before him. “What is it?” 

“I do not know, my lord.” He held the letter out. “It has the Hightower sigil.” 

Gwayne frowned. “Very well. Thank you.” 

“Good night, my lord.” 

You tilted your head as Gwayne walked back over, scanning the contents of the letter. “What does it say?” Your husband’s face dropped, his mischievous nature replaced with something far darker. “Gwayne?” 

“My father.” He crumpled the letter, throwing it into the fire. “My father is to return to Oldtown.” 

“You should be resting.” 

You raised a brow, your youngest cradled in your arms. “I am not inept.” 

“I know-” 

“Besides, I should like to be here to greet your father.” 

“I wish you would take more care.” He whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist, Daenora now settled between you. You understood his concern, his own mother had died from childbirth and its aftereffects. 

“You know I would not do anything to endanger myself or our children.” You reached up, kissing his cheek gently. “Trust me.” 

“You know I do.” He held a finger above Daenora’s face, smiling when she playfully batted it away from her. “May I hold her?” 

“Gwayne.” You sighed. “It is not prop-” 

“I do not care.” He snapped. “You are my wife, she is my daughter. The world will not crumble into ash if a man shows care for his family.” 

You knew this sudden outburst had nothing to do with your family, but entirely about his father’s return and his actions toward Gwayne and Alicent when they were children. Otto was cold, everyone knew this. In some instances, being cold was helpful, necessary even. When it came to raising a family, it was not. The one redeeming feature Otto had was his deep and passionate love for his wife, the late Lady Hightower.

When she died, Gwayne said that the light in his father’s eyes left, that he found it difficult to look at his children, saying that they reminded them too much of her. He left for King's Landing and took Alicent with him, leaving Gwayne behind to deal with his grief alone, at a mere fourteen years of age. Who were you to deny him the joy of holding your daughter during this trying time? 

“Very well.” You nodded, passing your daughter over. “It will be alright, my love.” 

His smile did not match his eyes. “I admire your optimism.” 

Your eldest ran around the courtyard, chasing the chickens that ran amok. You fought the urge to laugh, shaking your head as you called your daughter over. “Fiona, come here, my darling!” 

The little girl, all but five years of age, scurried over, leaving a trail of dust in her wake. “Mama!” 

You spun her around as she collapsed into your arms. “My little wild one.” Setting her down, you brushed your fingers through her hair, trying to make it look somewhat presentable. “Promise me you shall be on your best behavior this weekend.” You whispered. 

“I promise.” She whispered back. “Mama?” 

“Yes, my love?” 

“Is Papa sad?” 

You frowned. “Why do you think Papa is sad?” 

“He is frowning.” She looked up at her father, who was still cooing at her younger sister. “He never frowns, Mama.” 

“Papa is nervous, that is all.” You straightened her dress, dusting off the dirt that clung to the green cloth. “He has not seen his own father in quite some time.” 

“Is he not excited to see him?” 

“He is.” You smiled, finding some solace in the fact that your children do not hate their father as much as he despises his own. Your daughter, who had been brought up in a home full of love and warmth, would never come to know the cold, harsh nature Gwayne himself had been brought up in. “He is both excited and nervous.” 

“Ah.” She stared at the ground, kicking the pebble in front of her, obviously becoming bored with this conversation. 

Gwayne cleared his throat, shoulders tensing as the ornate carriage pulled through the gates. “He is here.” You kissed Fiona’s temple quickly, taking Daenora from your husband’s hold, babbling back at the newborn. “He is here, and I wish he were not.” 

“Try your hardest to be civil, for all our sakes.” You muttered, straightening your posture. 

The carriage came to a stop before you, the valet hopping off the back and opening the door. “Ser Otto Hightower, hand to the King.” 

Daenora began to whine, and you frowned, bouncing her gently on your hip. “It’s alright, my darling, it’s alright.” 

Gwyane leaned toward you, whispering so quietly that even his father, who had now stepped out of the carriage, could not hear him. “He has upset Daenora without uttering a word.” 

Your eyes widened, elbowing him in the side. “Quiet.” 

Gwayne winced, stepping forward. “Father. Welcome home.” 

“Gwayne.” He nodded, not even bothering to hug his own son. He stood in front of you, eyeing the babe in your arms with curiosity. “Is a wet nurse not available?” 

You could feel the anger radiating off your husband in waves. “I thought you would be eager to meet your granddaughter, my lord.” 

“Another girl?” He looked over at Gwayne, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence. He had been highly against your union, even going so far as to ask the King to reject his son’s request. Viserys had grown angry, shocked at how harsh a father could be to his own son. Otto eventually saw the advantage to this marriage; the fact that you were rumored to be a Targaryen bastard could be helpful for his family’s status. “Are you not concerned?” 

“Concerned?” Gwayne feigned innocence. “Concerned with my two healthy daughters? No, Father, I am not.” 

Otto huffed. “Very well.” He turned back to you, looking closer at Daenora. Her eyes were now wide open, staring back at her grandfather. “She has violet eyes.” 

You nodded, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and hide from his harsh gaze. “She does.” 

“Interesting.” He muttered. Gwayne, sensing your discomfort, settled a hand on your lower back. You looked over, smiling gratefully.

Otto settled in front of Fiona, kneeling before her with a slight smile. “And you are Fiona.” 

“I am.” Her voice was confident, unbothered by the man before her. 

“I have a present for you.” Snapping his fingers, his valet ran over, a small rectangular box in his hands. “Do you like dolls?” 

She nodded, eager excitement brewing in her tiny body. “I love them.” 

“Well, that is good news.” Otto’s smile was bright, kind, even. You smiled at the sight, much to Gwayne’s displeasure. Placing the box before her, he pulled the bow loose, removing the lid. “I chose one based on your father’s description of you.” 

Fiona giggled, cradling the porcelain doll the very same way you held Daenora. “I love her.” 

“What do you say?” You whispered, gesturing to her grandfather. 

“Thank you.” She spoke shyly, hugging the doll tightly. “Thank you very much.” 

“Could you at the very least pretend to be happy your father is here?” You sighed, trying to reason with the man now pacing around your room. “Your daughter is noticing.” 

“I highly doubt Daenora has noticed how I look at her grandfather.” 

You crossed your arms, growing increasingly annoyed with his stubborn nature. “Do not feign ignorance, Gwayne Hightower.” You sat in front of your vanity, removing your jewelry. “He is trying.” 

“Is he?” Gwayne raised a brow. “In one fell swoop, he managed to not only insult you, but ignore and belittle you.” He practically growled, watching in fascination as you undid your hair. “I will not stand for it.” 

“Well then, by all means-” You smirked. “Take a seat.” He stuck his tongue out, remaining standing. “It is in his nature. Would you be entirely happy if Fiona brought home a suitor whose parentage was in question?” 

“That is different.” 

You laughed, turning around to face him. “How so?” 

His face was gentle, warm. “He is not you.” 

You shook your head. “There is no getting through to you, is there?”

“I’m afraid not, my love. Not when it comes to you.” He took the brush from your hand. “Turn around.” 

You smiled as he carefully brushed your hair, leaning into his touch. “You must not get upset at what I am about to say.” 

“Why would I be upset?” He scoffed. “I am not upset.”

“You are much too protective of me.” 

“If that is the worst thing I have done in our marriage, I would consider our union a success.” You sighed, smiling gratefully when he extended his hand. “You are entirely too forgiving.” 

You removed your robe, settling underneath your bedding. “I am trying to ensure that our daughters do not experience the same Otto you did.” Gwayne wrapped a hand around your waist, pulling you into his side. “They deserve better than what you endured.” 

“On that much,” He kissed your temple before blowing out the candle on his bedside table. “We can agree.” 

Your day had been the very picture of peace, deciding to escape to your favorite picnic spot with your daughters, away from the bustle of Oldtown. Unfortunately, Gwayne could not accompany you, so you and your guard made the trip yourself. 

‘Trip’ was an exaggeration. For Fiona, it was a trip; for you, it was a mere five-minute horse ride. Daenora had slept soundly while on horseback, something that would never cease to amaze you. When Fiona was a babe, the slightest movement would cause tears to leave her eyes. 

“Fiona!” You yelled out, laughing to yourself as she tripped over herself. “Be careful!” 

“I am, Mama!” She was so much like her father, courageous and headstrong. You told Gwayne countless times that if women were permitted to be knights, Fiona would outrank him in a fortnight. 

Daenora, you knew in your heart as you stared at the peaceful babe, would be more like you, a reader with a wild imagination. More reserved, but fiercely loyal and deeply loving. 

“My lord.” 

So Gwayne had made it out of his day of meetings. You made no effort to turn around, gesturing to the open area beside you. “My love, how was your day?” 

“Gwayne is still otherwise occupied.” You were sure that if you could burst from embarrassment, you would have done so that very moment. 

“My lord. If you would like-” 

“No need.” Otto quickly cut you off. “I will not be staying long.” He looked wistfully at the lake before you, an island in the very center of it all. “Gwayne’s mother would take the children for picnics here as well.” 

You smiled, looking back at your youngest. “It is quite the view.” 

“Quite.” 

A comfortable silence fell over both of you before you spoke again. “He misses her terribly.” 

Otto’s voice was weak, vastly different from his normally stoic, stern tone. “As do I.” 

“I’ve found him-” You waved to Fiona from across the lake, your smile falling as you reminisced. “I’ve found him admiring her portrait from time to time. He is the spitting image of her.” 

He cleared his throat, bowing quickly. “Excuse me.” 

You nodded, watching as he practically ran away, too overwhelmed with emotions to continue. “My lord.” 

“Father is requesting a private dinner.” Gwayne groaned, shoving his face further into your neck. “Tonight.” 

You laughed, enjoying the way his voice shook against your skin. “I believe we can fulfill this one request, my love.” 

“I do not wish to.” 

You sighed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “He is your father, your blood. You cannot begrudge him forever.” 

“Oh, but I can.” And you truly believed him. When someone wronged your husband, or Gods forbid, wronged you, it took him ages to forget. Ages. “And I will.” 

“You will not.” You scolded. “We will attend this dinner, whether you want to or not.” 

“Do you truly hate me so?” He whined, peaking out from his hiding place. “You made a vow-” 

“A vow I have not broken.” 

“A vow to love and cherish me.” 

“I have.” You raised an eyebrow. “Rather dutifully, I would say.” 

“And to think…” He sighed, looking wistfully out the window. “I thought you loved me.” 

“You are, without a doubt, the most dramatic man I have ever met.” You shoved him away from you, jumping out of bed and donning your robe. “If you agree to attend, I will wear your favorite gown.” 

His entire demeanor changed, eyes growing dark as he admired you from the comfort of your bed. “Consider it done, my love.”

“Men are simple creatures.” You laughed to yourself. “Rhaenyra was right after all.” 

“What was that?” 

You shook your head. “Nothing, darling.”  Opening your wardrobe doors, you pulled out the very dress Gwayne had mentioned, holding it against your frame. “This is rather ornate for a private dinner.” 

His eyes were dark as he stared. “Have I mentioned how ravishing you are?” 

“Control yourself.” You tutted, hanging the dress against your mirror.

You had yet to eat a single bite of your meal, simply watching in horror as your husband and father-in-law slung skillfully concealed insults at each other. They were now on the topic of Alicent, a touchy subject for both men. 

“Ah, yes. My dear sister.” Gwayne took a sip of his ale. “How does she fare after years of taking care of her dying husband?” 

“That husband you speak of is the King.” Otto glared. “You will do well to remember that.” 

“Perhaps-” Your voice was quiet, testing the waters. “We should retire, my love.” 

Gwayne laughed. “Nonsense. I have barely eaten.” He looked at your plate, frowning. “Neither have you. Is the food not to your liking?” 

“It-” You sighed, trying to signal to your husband that he should cease this intricate game of chess immediately. “It is fine.” The table was silent for a moment, something you found yourself grateful for. 

“Fiona is the spitting image of your sister.” 

Gwayne shrugged. “I like to think she takes after her mother-” 

“Your second daughter, however.” Otto opened his mouth before closing it again. “It is quite curious.”

You took the bait, setting your fork down. “What is curious, my lord?” 

“From whom did she receive her violet eyes?” He looked at you with a false sense of curiosity. “Your mother was known for having violet eyes, yes?” 

You had made a vow to Viserys before you left, to never speak of her. To never allude to the fact that you were a Targaryen bastard. It seemed, as you stared at the Lord Hand, that you were about to break that solemn vow. “Yes, my lord.” 

“Did you father?” Your gaze dropped to your hands, and Otto’s voice grew sinister. “Ah, I forget. You never knew the man, how could you-” 

“That is enough.” Gwayne cut his father off. “We will not speak of this any longer.” 

“I am simply asking-”

“You will not insult my wife, belittle her because of her mother’s misfortune.” His tone wavered as anger dared to seep through. “I will not sit by and watch as you disrespect her.” 

“Is it disrespectful, my dear son, to point out a woman’s parentage?” Otto scoffed. “Her mother-” 

“Was a princess of the seven kingdoms. I am sure the king would be pleased to hear that his hand so freely shames his late aunt.” He laughed, although there was no humor in his tone. “I believe you have outstayed your welcome.” 

“What-”

“You will leave. On the morrow.” 

“Gwayne-” You whispered, your hand lying over his. “Do not act in anger-” 

“This is an outrage.” Otto scoffed. “A scandal-” 

“No!” Gwayne yelled, the noise echoing through the hall. “The scandal is you insulting my wife, my family. I have let it go on for far too long, but no more.”

“Gwayne!” Your voice was sharp, shocking your husband with its lack of sweetness. “You will wake the entire estate with this nonsense.” 

“Then let me lower my tone.” 

“No.” You shook your head. “I believe it would be best if you retired for the night.” 

“My love…” He whispered. “He has just-” 

“I know what he has done.” You ripped your hand away from his, your voice stern. “I will be right behind you.” 

The older man waited until his son had left to address you. “Thank you for your support-” 

“With all due respect…” You raised your hand. “I believe I have the floor. Your admiration for your granddaughters has not gone unnoticed. It is kind and sweet, the way you have treated them during your time here.” 

He smiled. “Of course-” 

“But I will not stand idly by while you insult me. As you saw, neither can your son. While he has a peculiar way of showing it, Gwayne loves you; he will always love you, just as I love my mother, even though I did not know her. I hold a certain admiration for her bringing me into this world. If you ever-”

You stood up, straightening your dress. “Treat me in such a manner again, and I will not ask my husband to stop his defensive tirade. Furthermore, you will be barred from visiting your granddaughters, and you will be barred from entering the city. I will not reward your disrespectful behavior by allowing your poisonous presence around my sweet girls.” Tucking in your chair, you gave him a half smile, turning on your heels toward the door. “If you will excuse me…”

Gwayne was staring into the fire when you entered your chambers. His hair was unruly, from the many, many times he ran his hands through it in frustration. You smiled, gently shutting the door behind you. “My love-” 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” You frowned. 

“Why must you deny any help?” He turned around, eyes desperate for an answer. “I only want to protect you, my darling. My father was behaving cruelly.” 

You nodded, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “He was indeed.” 

“And I tried to defend you-” 

“Quite valiantly.” 

“And you stopped me.” He wrapped a hand around your waist. “Why?” 

“Some disagreements are better settled through means of persuasion rather than aggression.” 

“I see.” He hummed, leaning his forehead against yours. “And this disagreement was solved through means of-” 

“Persuasion.” Gwayne raised an eyebrow. “Let me reassure you that if your father does ever disrespect me again, you can do as you please.” 

“Ah.” He grinned, voice soft. “I love you.” 

“I love you more.” You smiled, kissing his lips gently. “You are a good husband, Gwayne.” 

“It is not a hard thing to achieve when one has you as a wife.” 

“Must you leave?” Fiona whined, hugging her grandfather tightly. 

“I’m afraid so, my sweet one.” He smiled, setting her back on the ground. “Do not fret, I will be back with more dolls in no time.” 

She giggled, hugging his leg for good measure. “I will miss you, Grandfather.” 

He ruffled her already wild hair, approaching you and the babe. “Thank you for your hospitality.” 

“You are welcome anytime, my lord.” You smiled. “Would you like to hold her?” 

He nodded, carefully taking her into his grasp. “She is quite the perfect babe.” 

Gwayne wrapped an arm loosely around your waist. “I would have to agree.” 

Otto put Daenora back into your arms. “Gwayne.” 

“Father.” They merely looked at each other, but a mutual understanding was there. “I look forward to your return.” You had a sneaking suspicion as you watched your father-in-law’s carriage disappear across the horizon that Gwayne actually meant it. 

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[rauspberries]

Spencer Reid × Fem!Reader

Frinds to lovers

Fluff

Friendship Bracelets | S.R.

summary: you and spencer go shopping for supplies to make friendship bracelets based on each other's eyes. which would be a fun activity -- if you could stop staring at each other. tags/warnings: gn!reader, friends to lovers, slight fluff, crush confession word count: 1.1k notes: this is the best i could come up with, but i had fun writing it <3

Majority of your days off were spent by Spencer’s side. He seemed to be the only person willing to do whatever fun event that you either saw on the Internet or somehow spawned into your brain, always answering with an enthusiastic nod and dropping a fact on anything you offered. 

When you had asked him at work yesterday to make friendship bracelets with you, he had nodded, pulling his bag up higher on his shoulder. Friendship bracelets are said to come from indigenous people of Central and South America, although some knots are dated back to China in 221 BC. They can be used for things such as symbolizing friendship, art or social statements. The modern popularity of them actually started in the 1980s, worn during protests of the disappearances of Mayan Indians and peasants in Guatemala, he had rambled as you had gotten into the elevator, your eyes watching his lips as he spoke. He talked so fast, but it was always at a perfect pace for you. You weren’t known for having the best attention span.

In the early afternoon the next day, you both had taken public transit to a nearby craft store, your fingers trailing over all of the different materials. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what kind of bracelet you wanted to make. Neither one of you took frequent trips to the beach, but you did go through crazy situations with your job, so something strong was needed. But did you want to attempt a threaded pattern, like a candystripe or a chevron, or did you want to go for beads, so you could remake it if it broke?

“What if we made them for each other with beads the same color as our eyes?” You wonder aloud, plucking up a specific shade of brown off of the shelf and holding it up to his face. You watch closely as his brow furrowed, glancing at the beads before back at her. The corner of your lips tilt up as something sparks in your brain, head tilting before you place the beads back, deciding it wasn’t the correct color. “You know, brown eyes symbolize strength, reliability and a connection to nature. They’re said to be grounding. They’re also associated with a warm, nurturing energy.”

You can feel his gaze watching the side of your face as you look through the beads, grabbing another strand off of the shelf and holding it up. “My eyes might be a bit hard to find a color for. There’s, like, seven different colors in there.”

Glancing at him, his lips part into an almost cocky smile before he turns back to the shelf in front of you. Almost immediately, he grabbed a couple sets of beads, holding them up to your face before shrugging. “Think I got it down.”

“What?” You huff, narrowing your eyes as you look at his choice. Admittedly, they’re perfect. If you’d stared at your own self in a mirror long enough, you most likely would’ve chosen the exact same things. “How did you do that?”

A small laugh rumbles in his chest as he runs the beads through his fingers, glancing down. “I have an eidetic memory. I think I’ve stared into your eyes enough to memorize them, actually.” A slight pinkish tint crawls onto his cheekbones, eyes only meeting yours again when you raise another color up to his eyes.

Your bottom lip pushes out in a pout as you return yet another failed color, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the amount of shades of brown in front of you. There were so many options, both of beads and colors in his eyes. If the sun shone on them, they were honey-colored, light and smooth. In the ambient lighting of his dark-paletted apartment, they were darker, deeper, asking you to spill out all of your secrets over the glass of wine he had poured just for you.

“You’re making it seem like I never make eye contact with you.” You huff, rustling through the collection in your hands and plucking out a few different options. Laying them out, you take one final glance at them and him before nodding. “Got it.”

Spencer’s brow quirks in amusement, looking down. “That’s four different colors. My eyes are brown.” 

In response, you shake your head stubbornly. “They’re more than brown, Spence. They’re a different color, all the time.” You turn on your heel, his eyes digging into your back as you lead the way up to the register. “When you’re asking me for something, they get darker, turning into your signature puppy dog eyes. When you cry, they somehow get darker than that. In the sun, they get brighter, like impossibly brighter. Like the color of peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter?” He laughs from behind you, hand skirting along your back as he leans over to place his beads on the counter. Then, he moves in front of you, blocking the way to the card reader as he blocks the way, paying for all of the supplies the two of you had grabbed during your shopping trip as you mewl your complaints from behind his back.

As you’re walking out, his fingers close around your elbow, causing you to turn and immediately catching his eyes. Looking up, you watch as they illuminate in the sunlight now cascading across his features. If you had to put a cheesy palette name to the color, you’d choose sunlit honey pot. If you weren’t so speechless at the feeling of his focus directly on you, you’d jokingly call him Winnie the Pooh. Instead, you’re forced to stare up at him, gaping like a fish out of water.

“You look at my eyes that much?” He asks, his voice impossibly soft. If you had to put another adjective to it, you’d say the tone of his voice was adoring. Instead, you just nod, and then you do the one thing you know to do when it comes to talking to Spencer. You list facts. “Prolonged eye contact with someone you adore can trigger chemicals such as oxytocin and phenylethylamine, making you feel bonded and deeply connected with the person you’re looking at,” you blurt.

It feels like you’ve said the exact right thing with the way his face lights up, lips pulling into an even wider smile as his face flushes. “Did you just say you like me, but with science facts?”

“No, I, uh,” you stutter, shaking your head and running your hands through your hair, “that’s not what I meant.” The whine in your voice gives you away, shattering your lie quickly.

Just as you turn away to hide your shame, his fingers enclose around your elbow, turning you back around. As you stand, starstruck, he brushes a strand of hair out of your face, beaming down at you. “I like you, too. Don’t worry.”

[froggiewrites]

Mating Call

Pairing: Siren!Doflamingo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: The song is beautiful. The man singing it is even more so. So you do not fight the call to climb the rocks and fall into his arms. You do not fight his warm embrace, his touch, his sweet cooing. This is where you’re meant to be, after all. Who are you to fight against the melody calling you home? Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Dubcon, Mind Control, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Biting, Marking, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 2.7k Halloween Special 2024

The melody was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

It was so soft at first you couldn’t understand why your heart had begun to sing, why your chest began to fill with warmth. You just knew you were at peace here, on this beach, sinking into the sand as the sun washed over you. It was only after you closed your eyes that you could finally hear the song clearly. There were no words, just the delicate warble of somebody else’s soul meeting yours. The harmony of it all compels you to move, to pull yourself out of the sand and start marching toward your destiny.

The voice shifts as you move, between pitches, genders, and emotions, before finally landing on a single one. A man’s voice, the mostly lovely baritone you’ve ever heard, calls to you. Not by name, but in spirit. Fate’s strings pull you forward, leaving footprints in the sand until you can feel the salty water of the sea up to your ankles. Your eyes open as the song grows louder, closer and closer, and you know that the man singing it will be ready to receive you.

Your hands find holds in the rocky wall in front of you, and you scale it with a precision you never knew you had. It’s as though someone else is moving your limbs for you, someone who knows the path like the back of their hand. You don’t slip once, not even when you reach sections wet from the sea, or those slick with something warm and red that you don’t pay any mind to. You’re almost there, and he’s ready and waiting for you.

The song reaches its peak right as your head peeks over the top of the ridge, and you can see him in his full glory: there is an angel waiting for you. His mouth is open wide, his eyes closed in concentration as he sings to you. He’s massive, nearly twice your height, covered in beautiful pink and white feathers that glisten in the light. They catch the sun, the rays dancing between them and almost making him sparkle. His torso disappears into a solid mass of feathers, which grow into legs far more similar to a bird’s than that of a human. Behind him are a massive pair of wings, the span of them large enough to blot out the sun if he so chose. As your feet finally rest at the top, he opens his eyes, which seem to pierce straight through you to your very core. At the same time, you see an image in your mind, so strong it nearly feels real: you, wrapped tightly in those feathers, shielded away from the world as he grants you all of the pleasure you could ever want. You can practically already feel him inside of you, feel his tongue inside of your mouth.

The song quiets as he finally speaks to you. “It could be a reality, little bird.” The moment he stops speaking, he immediately starts humming again, reaching his arms out to you invitingly. He gestures for you to approach, and once again your feet move before your mind does. Your hands reach for him, as though they were always meant to do so, and in an instant you’re surrounded by strong arms as his wings surround you both, blocking out the light and cradling you in their warmth. He smiles at you, the song fading, and you could swear his teeth were just a bit sharper than they were before. “Oh, you’re even lovelier up close.”

“Thank you,” you murmur shyly, suddenly aware of how very close the two of you are. He laughs with delight at the blush on your cheeks, holding you tighter and pressing your chests together.

“Oh, are you shy now? That won’t do.” He hums softly as he leans down and brushes his nose against your neck before nipping you, making you jump and inadvertently push yourself closer to him. Your arms move around his neck like they have a mind of their own. He nearly purrs when you do, so pleased with your acceptance. “There we go. That’s more like it, sweet thing.” He slides his fingers down your back, and you shiver as you realize they’re tipped with razor sharp claws, ones that could shred you in an instant if he wanted them to. You tense for just a moment, before he hums softly again, cooing in such a sweet tone that you can’t help but melt beneath his touch. Images of your union fill your mind again, of tender kisses and passionate embraces, of being laid down against these rocks and being taken again and again and again. He wouldn’t hurt you. He wants you. He needs you.

His head finally leaves your neck, and you get to see his eyes up close. They seem to pull back all of your layers, lay you bare beneath them. They call you forward, and before you realize it, your lips are against his. He makes a quiet noise of surprise, before you’re pulled up closer, your legs wrapping around his torso and his hands resting on your ass. The kiss begins as something almost tender, affectionate, before quickly gaining a heat that shoots straight to your core. His tongue meets yours, and he shifts to allow himself to hold you in only one arm, freeing the other to explore your body as it pleases. He reaches for your chest, letting out a soft noise of pleasure at the feeling of your softness beneath his fingers. He tries to brush against your nipples, before letting out a soft huff at the fabric in the way.

You’re so lost in it all, head fuzzy and warm, the sound of ripping threads doesn’t even startle you. Your bra and shirt are entirely shredded in an instant, falling off of you and drifting to the ground. When you shiver from the cold, his wings press in closer, trapping the heat from both of your bodies together, keeping you warm as his fingers knead at your breasts. His lips break away from yours so he can finally see them fully exposed, and he grins, all teeth. “Lovely little thing,” he murmurs, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

He sucks gently, and you can occasionally feel just a hint of his teeth, slightly too large in his mouth to keep fully away. Every part of him is so terribly sharp, made for ripping and tearing carrion, for breaking bones, for killing small and tender things like you. But he holds back those edges, ever present but never quite threatening. Even as he lavishes your chest with attention, turning rougher, leaving marks that will certainly last, you remain entirely relaxed in his arms, ready to accept anything he’ll give you.

“You’re doing so wonderfully.” He smiles against your skin. “Really, I might have to keep you.” He lets out another quiet trill, and you easily fall back, your weight only supported by his wings. With both his hands free, he easily frees you of your pants and panties, leaving you fully bare. His tongue traces along your torso, down to where you’re dripping and waiting for him. Instead of giving you what you so desperately crave, his attention moves to your thighs, the plush untouched skin just begging to be bitten and marked.

You whine when his teeth make contact. “Please.”

He chuckles. “Please, what?” You moan as his tongue swipes up your thigh, closer to your cunt, but still torturously far. “I’ll get there, little bird. Just be patient.” Despite his scolding words, he seems thrilled at your pleas, preening at every little sob and cry, clearly proud of reducing you to such a state. It is only after you’re near tears that he finally gives in, and he spreads your lips with his fingers, admiring how wet you are.

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a long swipe of his tongue, and you can’t help but throw your head back as you moan. “Delicious. So perfect.”

 He clearly savors your taste, eyes briefly falling closed as he allows it to sink in. You let out a needy little sound despite yourself, and you can see the edge of his lip twitch slightly before he opens his eyes, staring into yours, and diving right in. His tongue laps at you, gathering your juices for him to enjoy. As your pleasure builds, overwhelming you, you desperately try to find something to ground yourself. You settle for his shoulders, the soft downy feathers there tickling your palms as you squeeze, holding onto him for dear life. After he hits a particularly sensitive spot, your nails dig into him and he groans. You let go, afraid you’ve hurt him, and he pulls back to bark at you, “No, no, no. Put them back.”

You place your hands on his shoulders again, gently, and he lets out a frustrated huff. “No. Harder. Leave your marks.” At his instruction, you dig your nails in harder than ever before, and you can feel his skin break beneath your fingertips. He moans. “Yes, perfect. And so obedient. I really will have to keep you.”

He goes back to lapping against you with a revived fervor, something new rising inside of him. You continue to dig into his skin, hard enough to bruise, and he lets out a soft groan as the pressure increases. It drives him wild, sends his tongue deeper than before, causes his claws to press into your hips, not breaking the skin but teasing the idea.

“Delicious. Worth missing a few meals for.” He pulls back to show his face is covered in your slick. He licks his lips, gathering more of it on his fingers just to pop them in his mouth. He hums, pleased with your taste, giving you a grin that’s all teeth. “You really were made for me, little bird. I wonder how you’ll enjoy being mine.”

You shiver at the idea. Of being wanted, needed, cherished. “I’m going to love it,” you mutter.

His smile grows wider. “Of course you will, sweet thing. I’m glad you realize that." He moves up, crashing his lips into yours, your own taste filling your mouth. “My pretty little mate, here waiting for me whenever I want you. What a wonderful thing.”

Your mind fills with images of you curled up in a nest, naked and waiting as he approaches. Your arms are always outstretched, welcoming him home, not minding the blood spattered on his beautiful feathers. You accept what he gives you, no matter what it is. A gift, his touch, his cock, you accept it all, pleased to receive anything from him. You spread your legs before he even asks, knowing what he wants, and you allow him to take you. The pleasure is beyond you imagination, every single time, every nerve in your body alight with every touch. The vision, combined with his current ministrations, brings tears to your eyes, as you nearly drown in your pleasure, both current and future.

He licks a tear off of your cheek, groaning as his aching cock ruts into your thigh. “Oh, you perfect little thing. So willing. So wanting. So ready to be had. Do you want me, sweet thing?”

“Yes!”

“Excellent. Then you’ll have me, again and again. Let’s make the first time count.” He slowly sinks into you, moaning in your ear of the feeling of your wetness around him. You wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his shoulder blades, arms tucked directly under the wings that curl around you both. The softness is contrasted by the sharpness of his claws against your hips, and the stiffness inside of you. His hips twitch as he struggles to hold himself back, but you don’t worry for a moment. He wouldn’t be rougher than you could handle, you know. His melodic moans sound in your ears, relaxing your muscles and mind.

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of fullness, before he begins a harsh pace, hips slapping against yours, feathers brushing against you with every thrust. He places open mouthed kisses against your neck, gentle bites against your neck that grow harsher as he begins to lose himself. You don’t know if the warmth dripping down your front is your blood or his saliva. You don’t know if you care.

His thrusts grow quicker and quicker, sloppier and sloppier, furiously pounding into you. His breaths are ragged, frantic, as he chases his high. Your chests rub together, your nipples rubbing against both skin and feathers, the sensation overwhelming. You cry out as you come undone around him, clenching around his length, your body desperately trying to pull pleasure out of him with its own. He spills into you with a groan, warmth filling you as he wraps his arms around your waist, trapping you against him.

“Don’t waste a single drop, little bird.”

He waits for a few minutes, keeping you against him, cooing sweet nothings, before he finally decides he is done. He walks across the rocks, claws softly clicking against stone, before speaking again.

“You did wonderfully.”

You lay back, chest heaving, and he lets you go for the first time since you stepped foot onto the rocks. Your back is against something soft, which you think may be his nest. You feel his hands brush against you as he checks you over, ensuring not of his bites were too deep. He lets out a soft coo when he finds everything to his satisfaction. “Excellent, little bird.” You can hear him fussing with something before you feel something in your mouth, fishy and wet. You gag, and he pulls it out with a displeased hum. “Not right, hm? I’ll find something else.”

You hear his footsteps leave, off to find something else to feed you, and you shift onto your side. Your entire body is sore, and you can feel the cum leaking out onto your thighs, sticky and warm. When you stretch your legs, you feel your foot hit something, and the soft clatter of something hitting the ground. The sound is strange, unfamiliar, and when you open your eyes, you see it.

Bones.

You seem to have kicked the femur of some large animal. It knocked into a pile of smaller bones, some tiny and square and some longer and thinner. Something about them is sickeningly familiar. You try to push down the nausea, ignore the thought that if you peeled back your skin you would find something nearly identical beneath it. For a moment in your mind, you see your lover’s teeth and claws sinking into your skin for you, ripping you apart so very easily, coming to him far more naturally than tenderness ever could. Bile rises in your throat, and all of your muscles tense, ready to scream, to run, to throw yourself off of this cliff and into the waters below because you might survive and even if you didn’t it would surely be a kinder fate than this poor thing had.

“Darling?” Your head shoots up to see him again, hands filled with berries, nuts, and other various plants he seems to have gathered for you. His eyes drift to your feet, and you see understanding in them. “Ah. I see. I should have tidied up earlier.”

As he approaches, you prepare to launch yourself past him, to get as far as you can, but his smile is so gentle as he quietly begins to hum. The song grows louder, and you feel your muscles relax as he steps closer. His hand rests on your cheek, claws held carefully away. He lifts a berry to your mouth, and you open it with ease, allowing him to place it on your tongue. It’s sweet.

He tenderly brushes his hand over your head, continuing his song, pulling you into his chest. You curl into him easily. He hand feeds you every morsel he gathered, smiling all the while. “Everything’s alright, little bird. Nothing to fear. I plan on keeping you around for a very long time.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl

[explorastro]

RANDOM ASTRO TAKES #3

People born with Neptune in 1H can have heights in their career that not so much people can reaching. That’s because they embodies possibly an ideal at a moment of their life, physically or mentally.

The ban of TikTok during the Venus/Saturn conjunction in Pisces square Jupiter in Gemini is really a return to reality for content creators who scattered the attention span of their followers with a boost of dopamine. It’s a drug abuse that everyone should fight internally. I seriously think that the South Node in Virgo opposite a conjunction North Node/Neptune in Pisces ruler of Saturn makes a lot of people delusional about the responsibilities of each in the destruction of species, the global warming, dumbification of society, that’s terrible for our future.

If you’re lost to interpret outer planets, using their discovery chart can helping you to be more precise on what influence they have, the big three of each :

Uranus, Scorpio Rising/Pisces Sun/Scorpio Moon

Neptune, Cancer Rising/Virgo Sun/Scorpio Moon

Pluto, Leo rising/Aquarius Sun/Scorpio Moon.

The three discovery charts have a Scorpio Moon, that symbolizes the transformation of astrology after each discovery, the emotional depths when conflicts are bringing up to interpreting the planets and all the collective psychology behind them. If you want to knowing better outer planets, start by knowing better Scorpio Moon and her patterns.

Moon and Mars fall in mutual reception bc they’re similar under these signs, reactive and instinctively emotional, intuitively assertive and self destructive patterns. This is our animal spirit, the fuel that feeds your soul. Aquarius (human) has Cancer (instincts) in 6H (animals) where Mars rejoices and Scorpio (depths) in 10H (public image).

The alchemical transmutation is based on the 7 seven planets who are in analogy with 7 metals, like it’s’ so Kali Yuga coded.

Moon and Sun domiciles and exaltation signs follow each others like the light and shadow in the celestial course. It’s a cosmic dance of the duality who makes one in a beautiful artistic cosmos. Aries, Taurus, Cancer and Leo are the brightest of the zodiac, they radiate charisma.

Aries : a pioneer, strong athlete, big brain who learn quickly, the spark who light up the room

Taurus : the warming fireplace who wraps the room in its tender warmth

Cancer/Leo : the midnight sweet summer that gives you memories for life, the beach, vacations, evenings

Mercury makes the link btw the two Moon signs and receive two sextile from the Sun signs, a very alchemist thing.. 😌

It's interesting to note that the golden age of oil began in 1859, when Uranus was in Taurus sextile Neptune in Pisces. 166 years later for theirs returns, resources are running out after numerous crises and the future without them is not yet prepared worldwide. But when oil was starting to be used massively it was in 1920 when Saturn was in Virgo, the health of the Earth had started to be impacted massively by our consumption.

With Pluto angular to his derivative sign, Scorpio. I think we gonna experiments a lot more of natural catastrophes on earth, like hurricanes and tsunamis after seism. Taurus is in derivative 4H of Pluto that is in derivative 4H of his sign, he’s gonna destroying all the capitalism.

Mars dominant people are so aware of themselves that they can expand their awareness to the world and universe like Buddha, but David Chalmers is also a good example. His quotes on the consciousness are untouchable.

[nsharks]

part twenty-four preview

"What do you call a cow with no legs?"

Blue's lips twitch at the broken silence. She slowly raises her head at you, brow knitted. "What?"

"Ground beef."

She snorts, shaking her head, and you think you catch Nereida smile beside her. "That's stupid."

"Do you have a better one?"

"I've got one," Nereida chimes. "What did the ocean say to the beach?"

Blue sighs. "I know this one. Ghost said it before. Nothing—it just waved."

She smiles apologetically. "Sorry, that's all I've got."

You wrack brain for another, but then the quiet fills in again. You lean your forehead against the window and watch the world pass. Moss-tucked cars, sprawling hills. Blue rests her chin back in her hands, then perks up a minute later. "Woah. What is that?"

You crane your neck. A dilapidated theme park erects from the grass on the other side of the road. A small rollercoaster track, dull red carousel, even what looks like a mini golf course. It looks creepy to you, but she seems intrigued.

"Ghost, I have to pee. Can we stop here?"

"None of that stuff works now, and you're not going through any of it."

"I just want to look, that's all."

"I do need to stretch my legs a little," Nereida adds.

Ghost slows down and pulls over. Your legs feel wobbly when you first step out—it's only been two hours but you haven't had to sit in a car for years. The sign spanning the theme park entrance reads Kettering Kastle. That means he will take the interchange towards Cambridge soon. If there are no more stops, you'll be at the coastline by sundown. 

"Ari, did you ever go to one of these?" Blue quips.

Ari fails to answer—he hops down from the truck bed and rushes to the nearest bush, sick to his stomach.

Kyle gets to his feet. "It gets pretty bumpy in the back. He'll be fine."

You wince, feeling guilty you've let a kid get the worst seat. "I'll switch with him."

"You don't have to."

"No, it's fine. He can probably entertain Blue better than I can."

Blue relieves herself behind some dogwood. Ghost and Price go over the map together again. Your attention isn't on the old rides, but rather, a large tree you spot by the road. Hickory. You're pretty sure. Paul once told you it's great for making arrows, a softer hardwood. Pliable but strong. This excites you. Your sheath is only half-filled. You unzip your bag and reach for a knife, the serrated one you found back at the base. 

Gingerly, you saw off a few mid-sized branches that should be easy to whittle into arrows with your smoother knife. 

"Having fun there?" Kyle crosses his arms behind you, brow ticked. "First I'm seeing you smile... and it's while you cut a tree."

"This is good wood," you defend, continuing your ministrations. 

"How are you doing?" he asks idly.

You snap off the fourth stick, feeling satisfied. 

You blow a piece of hair off your face.

How are you doing?

Questions like that annoy you.

"Great. Thrilled. Beautiful scenery," you wave a hand around, "So I can't complain."

A dimple pops. "That's the spirit." His eyes unthinkingly trail over you, landing on the knife in your hand. His stare lingers, narrowing. "That yours?"

"Hm?" You hold it up. "Oh, yeah, I found it."

"May I see it for a sec?"

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #53 - Adorable]

"When Jungkook is so cute by merely exisiting."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff

Warnings: she thinks that he is the cutest, which he is <3, a cute sushi date with a beach walk afterwards, she bites his nose <3, he is also a lil shit because let's be honest he is, and we all love him so much for it <3, one (1) mention of suggestive themes

Wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: this is inspired by this gifset 🧡 i just love his lil pout and pretty eyes so much :( also, please bear with me. you besties are gonna get longer stories again. christmas time at work is just very stressful and time consuming and i rarely have energy to write :(

Jungkook is minding his own business. He is living his own life, enjoying the moment, existing. And you can’t take your eyes off of him. He isn’t even doing anything. He is merely and simply existing and you still think that he is the most adorable and handsome person that ever existed and ever will exist. 

He is wearing a white, oversized long arm shirt today, combining a black bucket hat with it. His bangs cover his forehead and his face carries no makeup. He is entirely comfortable with his look. It is simple, but you think that he is a work of art.  

You and he are currently on a fun and relaxing date to a costal restaurant. The theme of the restaurant is local fish and the chef specializes in sushi. She explains each serving in great detail and Jungkook is really enjoying his time here. You have never witnessed him listen so intently and with such attention for such a long time before. Now, don’t misunderstand, this isn’t supposed to be mean. You love him and you also love how easily his attention span can wander. Something as small and simple as a pretty bug by the side of the road can already pull his attention away. Sometimes, even something as simple as a random thought can completely beam him away. You never saw it as a negative trait, but you also have to admit that seeing him so deeply engrossed in sushi knowledge is surprising and wonderful to witness. He pouts his lips without noticing and his eyes are so big in wonder. You just love him so much.  His reactions to the food are almost better. You haven’t laughed that much during lunch in a long time. He is so cute. 

He would definitely whine if he knew that you are calling him cute. He doesn’t like to be called that way (a lie, he likes to tell you. He definitely likes it, you are sure of it). And the thing is? You can’t blame him.  

Jungkook is a strong and muscular man. He is pierced, tattooed and drives a huge Harley. He also knows how to knock someone out with just one punch and the multiple times he had you in his arms and on his cock at the same time are definitely haunting your mind from time to time. Jungkook is just such a Man and he shouldn’t be this cute in your eyes, but he is. He is so tender and beautiful and full of childlike wonder. When he talks to you, he talks in a soft voice and when he holds your hand, he always draws hearts on your skin. He greets and thanks the staff of whatever places you visit and whenever it is possible, he makes their jobs easier by helping out as best as possible.

He is just so warm. Yes, this is how he is. He is warm like a safe hug, warm like hot cocoa, warm like a blanket after a person laid under it for a long time.

And right now, you think that he is unbearably cute in his little outfit with his pretty eyes and pouty lips.

The sushi chef turns her back to you and him again, preparing the next course. Jungkook glances at you from the corner of his eyes. He has been feeling your eyes on him the entire time the chef explained her process. He is starting to get nervous. 

When you don’t seem to want to stop any time soon, he finally speaks up. 

“Is something the matter, my sweetheart?” he asks, turning his head to you and rubbing your back. You and he are sitting next to each other so it is easy to do. 

“I just think that you’re so cute.”

He furrows his brows and pouts, “don’t call me that.”

“I can’t help it. You’re just so…can I bite your nose?”

“No? Why would you wanna bite my nose?” he says genuinely confused and touches his own nose. 

“Because if I don’t get to munch on something soon, I will riot.” 

He pulls a grimace of judgement. 

“You’re a weirdo”, he says and turns his head away. 

“Please?”

“No. Not here”, he whines and then the chef returns with the new course.

The sushi date continues. Jungkook is mesmerised while you are mesmerised by him. How can such a masculine, strong man be so cute? And how will you survive not munching on him?

You and he take a walk by the pier after lunch, holding hands and enjoying the ocean breeze. You snap some pictures by the beach, some together and some of each other. Afterwards it is time for ice cream, which you enjoy sitting on a bench overlooking the ocean. 

“You are looking at me again”, Jungkook says.

“I can’t help it. You’re so cute today.” 

“You know that I could easily bench press you, don’t you?”

“I am aware. I still think that you’re cute. Gosh Kookie, this shirt fits you so well. You’re looking so snuggly.”

You cuddle into him, hugging his waist and resting your cheek on his shoulder. Jungkook drapes his arm around you, smiling shyly. 

“Can I really not bite your nose?” you mumble.

“Why do you wanna bite my nose?”

“Because.” You poke his nose. “No nose has ever nosed as hard as your nose does.”

He scoffs, “okay? Whatever that may mean.”

“It means that I wanna bite your nose. Please?”

“But why? It’s my nose, I need it to breathe.”

“I’m not gonna do it hard. Just a little nibble. Once. Please?” 

“What’s in it for me?”

“A cute nose bite?”

“Yeah.” He laughs. “That’s not convincing.”

“You get to take two bites of my ice cream?”

He squints his eyes, letting out a long, “hmmmmmm.”

“Three bites?” 

“Okay fine, we have a deal.”

“Yes! Oh my god, I’m so happy”, you exclaim and cup his cheeks to turn his head to you. 

With a racing pulse, you lean closer so you could finally bite his nose. You have wanted to do this ever since this date started. He has such a pretty and biteable nose. You make sure to be as gentle as possible. All you need is for your teeth to feel his nose just once. You don’t want to hurt him. 

Jungkook grumbles in faux annoyance, giving you a pout afterwards.

“Happy?” 

“Very. This was the highlight of my day, seriously.”

He chuckles, “if you say so. Now give me ice cream.”

“There you go.” 

Jungkook practically sucks in your ice cream like a vacuum, leaving you with an empty ice cream cone and an agape mouth.

“Jungkook!” You exclaim, “what the hell?”

He chuckles with a full mouth, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“You’re so annoying”, you whine, nudging his chest.

“You said three bites. Never said how big they can- ow, ah, brain freeze.”

“Serves you right, you ice cream thieving egg.”

[galadrieljones]

Cliff Unger's love for his son was so strong, he created entire battlefields, spanning generations, fighting three historic wars, over and over again, on the beach, just to find him. Only once Sam, himself, feels this connection to his own father can he finally take a leap, and forge that same connection with Lou. To me, that is the most beautiful part of this story.

[simons-simp]

Hook, Line & Sinker | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Fisherman!Ghost, slowburn, afab reader

Part 1 | Next

You had come here to cleanse your mind. The salty air wafted over you as you climbed over the sandy dune, your feet sliding down in the sand. It took you double the effort to climb up the small sandy hill, but when you finally made it, you had to stop in awe. In front of you, the expanse of the ocean: white and blue. It was a deep shade of blue, deeper than usual, and right at the horizon, you could make a thin line of something more azure than blue.

The beach was deserted, spanning on for kilometres, more than your eye could see. A few fishermen here and there, walked with their poles, trying to get lucky. Your eyes counted how many there were, two to your right, and one down the distance, one on your left. You wondered what kind of fish they usually caught around here.

Carefully, you began to make your way down to the beach, trying not to fall. It was high tide and the ocean was already close to the dunes, leaving only maybe a few metres between you and it.

You knew the water would be cold, but you decided to roll your jeans up anyways, and slide your shoes off, wanting to at least feel the water. You approached the ocean cautiously, watching as different sized waves came crashing onto the sand, leaving trails of foam in its wake. Before you knew it, a large wave crashed right next to you and you found yourself squealing as you felt the cold water rush over your calves and almost up to your knees, a lot higher than you had been expecting. You quickly retreated back to the dry sand, dry sand sticking to them. You trudged back up the dunes, looking down at the numerous seashells and stones that kaleidoscoped the beach beneath you. Maybe you could sit here for a while, just watching the ocean. You slowly scrambled your way up, the sand sliding softly under your feet.

You found a comfortable looking spot, amidst the long grass bending over from the cold wind, and looked out at the ocean, satisfied. Your eye was caught by one of the fishermen, not too far away. It was bright, and you couldn't make out many details, but you could tell he was of a considerable size, broad shoulders under a tight fitting black fleece. You watched as he pulled his rod back, and with a strong motion, cast it back into the ocean. The line disappeared over the white waves and your attention stayed on him. You didn't know why, but you couldn't take your eyes off him. You felt a bit weird staring, but the safety of the dunes, height and distance wise, emboldened you as you kept looking. Besides, he was facing the other way.

You watched as he kept moving down the beach, coming closer to you, always focused on casting and recasting his fishing line out. You weren’t sure if he had noticed you or not, but as he was almost directly in front of you, just lower down and a few metres away. His face was turned towards the long expanse of the beach. Blushing, you looked away. You were sure you were in his peripheral now. You didn’t know if he was looking at you or not, but you decided to play it safe by focusing on the waves in the distance to your right. Then, before you knew what happened, a violent gust of wind blew your hat right off your head. A squeal left your mouth as your hands went to your hair but it was too late. Your hat was flying down the dune, and was being whipped around wildly. In one swift movement, you saw him catch it, and a mix of relief and nerves suddenly filled your stomach. He held the hat in his hand, examining it, before looking up at you, up in the dunes. You stared back blankly, a little stupefied, before coming to your senses and standing up from your spot in the damp sand. Carefully, you made your way down the dune, anxiety rolling around inside of you like the turbulent water in the waves. What if he mistook the staring as you being interested in him? You approached him, trying to keep your pace casual and even. He held the hat, unmoving, his eyes trained on you. The bottom half of his face was covered from the wind with a neck gaiter, tucked into the black fleece, which only made his stare more intense.

“Erm, thank you…” you said as you reached out to grab the hat from his gloved hands. He said nothing in response.

“S’alright” he finally said after what felt like too long of a pause. You thought you could hear a British accent. You raked your brain for something to say. Maybe he wanted for you to just leave now, and that could explain the uncomfortable silence.

“Catch anything good?” you asked, looking at the bag on his hip, where you assumed he kept the fish he was catching. He continued to stare at you. In the bright light reflecting on the ocean and sand, you could see his eyes were a deep shade of golden browns.

“Not yet.” You barely heard over the crashing of a wave right behind him. “But I feel like I’m’bout to.” He added at the end, his eyes never leaving your face. You laughed, unsure as to whether he was making a joke or simply talking from fisherman’s instinct. Another gust of wind threatened to steal the hat in your hands and you gripped onto it more tightly. Right then…

With a small nod towards him you took a step backwards and started to turn back. You made your way back to the break in the dunes where a small forest path lay a little further along, to take you back home.

Once you breached the dune you looked back, a weird feeling creeping up your neck. What if he watched where you crossed over and followed you down the little trail home? You nervously watched the top of the dune, half expecting to see a large figure rising up from behind it. But why would he follow you home? And how long would you stand there, waiting for nothing to happen? So you shook your head and turned back to the path, trying to get him out of your mind.

Part 2

[azzibuckets]

For the Love of the Game [Pazzi | Part 6/10]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: when azzi and paige start to fall

a/n: extra long chapter 😁 i was itching to get to the fluff so apologies for the very abrupt transitions

word count: 2.1k

masterlist w/ all parts

Azzi Fudd had had a terrible day, and she was not in the mood to keep up the charade of dating Paige. But the girls had planned a night at the bar, and wouldn’t stop bugging her until she’d finally relented and agreed to stop by for a short time.

She dressed up in low waisted cargo pants and a slim white top that exposed the top of her cleavage and the span of her abdomen. Dark lipstick coated her lips and she’d added just enough blush to make her cheeks a light rosy pink. She looked and felt hot, but she still didn’t feel all too enthusiastic about joining the girls, especially after they’d been there for an hour and she knew they’d already be tipsy and boisterous.

True to her word, most of the girls were already pretty buzzed by the time she’d arrived. Nika and Amari were completely wasted, giggling as they danced on each other.

Azzi heaved a sigh, heading to the blonde head she spotted in the corner of the room.

“Hey!” Paige yelled as soon as she saw her, her eyes glazed over. Azzi barely looked in her direction, instead asking the bartender for a sex on the beach.

“Yo, what the hell?” She felt a wisp of hot breath behind her and hands ghost her waist.

Rolling her eyes, she turned around, shrugging off Paige’s grasp. “Chill out. I’m really not in the mood right now, Paige.”

“I was gonna buy you a drink,” the older girl scoffed.

“I don’t need you to treat me like one of your hookups, Bueckers.” Azzi didn’t know why she was so mad, but she’d had a long day and this was the last place she wanted to be right now.

Paige’s eyes flashed, dangerous and fiery. “Alright.” She sat down on the edge of one of the barstools. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. First, you’re gonna stop with the fuckin attitude.” Paige grabbed Azzi’s hips and planted her firmly on her lap. “Second, you’re gonna stay here. Our teammates are coming.” Azzi squirmed, but Paige was strong, so she gave up, slumping against Paige as some of the girls managed to push their way through the crowd to reach them.

“Azza-rae!” Aaliyah smushed Azzi’s cheek. “You made it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Azzi glared at her drink. She stayed silent for the entire conversation, letting Paige carry it for the both of them. After a few moments, she was starting to feel the numbing effects of the alcohol, and she relaxed. She was still angry, for God knows what, but at least she was looser now.

Paige still had one arm wrapped around her waist, her hand resting on Azzi’s bare abdomen. Her touch was making Azzi feel slightly light-headed. She suddenly became even more furious, not understanding how or why she was feeling this way from just sitting on Paige’s lap.

“You cooled off yet?” Paige asked roughly from behind her. Azzi turned around as the blonde threw back a shot. A drop of vodka slipped from the corner of her mouth, trailing her way down her jawline.

Azzi licked her lips, and before she knew it, her mouth was on Paige’s jaw, sucking in the part of skin where the drop had rested. Paige’s jaw flexed, and she moaned, just loud enough for her to hear. Azzi smiled in satisfaction before withdrawing. “You had something,” she husked, looking up at a shocked Paige through her lashes. “And yeah, I think I’ve cooled off.”

Paige ran her hands up Azzi’s side. “You’re being a little bitch today, you know that?” Her mouth was turned up into a sneer.

“Yeah, well, who’s fault is that?” Azzi grabbed Paige’s hands, flinging them off her. “We’re not talking about this tomorrow.”

Paige bit her lip as she watched the younger girl storm her way out of the bar.

After that night, the dynamic of their relationship shifted. Azzi hated the sexual tension that always seemed to arise whenever they were in close proximity with each other, so she saw the best way of solving that tension as making out with Paige, kissing until they stopped arguing and all they could think about was each other’s bodies. They both convinced themselves that it was just practice for when the real deal came.

—————————-

“You ready?” Azzi rested a hand on Paige’s leg to stop it from jiggling. She couldn’t help but find it somewhat endearing how nervous the blonde was to meet her parents.

“What if they don’t like me?” Paige stressed. “Wait, what do I call them again?”

“It’s cute how nervous you are,” Azzi laughed. “Considering we aren’t even actually dating.”

Paige pouted, crossing her arms. “I still like to make good impressions on parents!”

“Of course you do.” Azzi unbuckled her seatbelt. “Just pretend that you’re in love with me. It shouldn’t be too hard.” She winked before heading to the front door, leaving Paige to dart after her in a panic.

As Azzi rang the doorbell, Paige adjusted and readjusted the flowers she held in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other. She’d been wary about the idea of meeting Azzi’s parents at first, but the younger girl had insisted, saying there was no way they could pretend to date without her mom finding out about it. So here they were, in DC, on the front step of her childhood home.

“Az!” Tim Fudd opened the door, immediately wrapping Azzi in a hug.

“Hey, Dad,” Azzi chuckled.

“Come in, come in.” Tim ushered them in. Paige suddenly found herself face to face with Azzi’s entire family - Tim, Katie, and her two brothers, Jose and Jon.

“Guys, this is Paige. My girlfriend.” Azzi’s lightly touched Paige’s hip, the other hand gesturing to each of her family members as she introduced them by name.

“Nice to meet you all,” Paige said awkwardly, lifting one hand up in the air. She ignored Azzi’s stifled giggles next to her as she held out the wine. “I brought some white wine,” she said. “And some flowers for you,” she handed the flowers to Kate, who grabbed the girl and folded her into a hug.

“That’s so sweet, hon. You shouldn’t have,” Kate cooed, releasing Paige before delicately taking the flowers.

“Alright, I’m gonna go show Paige my room and we’ll come right back down for dinner,” Azzi told her parents, grabbing Paige by the hand and leading her up the stairs.

Azzi’s room was cozy. A twin bed with a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals was nestled in the corner. Her walls were plastered with posters of basketball greats. Plastic gold trophies and medals from AAU tournaments, USA Basketball, and her high school littered the room. “Nice.” Paige looked around, her hands stuffed in her pockets. “It’s very you.”

“Why are you being so awkward?” Azzi lightly punched her, but Paige grabbed her hand and held it, intertwining their fingers.

For the past couple of weeks, Azzi and Paige had been maintaining their fake dating scheme. They’d been spending so much time together that they seemed to be finally getting along, and now they were in this weird limbo where they had become so accustomed to touching in public, in front of their teammates, that it came naturally when they were alone. Yet neither of them ever addressed it, never wanted to confront that they were becoming more than enemies, even more than friends.

“I’m not,” Paige denied. “It’s just kinda weird being in here. I literally hated your guts a few weeks ago.”

Azzi stopped swinging their hands. “I know.” She seemed tense, so Paige took her hand and massaged it, rubbing Azzi’s palm and fingers between her hands.

“You miss home a lot?” Paige asked, eyes focused on Azzi’s hand.

“Yeah. I know I’m close to my home town compared to other girls on the team, but it’s still hard. I miss them a lot.”

Paige nodded. “Good thing we’re here then,” she said softly, and when she brought Azzi’s hand up to kiss the pad of her fingertips, Azzi felt her heart skip a beat.

———————-

Paige tied her shoelaces, making sure to double knot them. Today was game day, and she needed to be in the right mindset, but all she could think about was Azzi. How moments ago she’d pulled Paige to an empty conference room and kissed her til she couldn’t breathe, her hands slipping up beneath Paige’s shirt, the touch of her fingers burning her skin. How she looked so fucking gorgeous when her hair was in those braids. Even now, she was distracted by Azzi warming up, pure concentration on her face.

Paige tightened her ponytail. Focus, she reminded herself. But when Azzi started walking towards her with a grin on her face, she knew it was a lost cause.

“Might have to close your mouth there, Bueckers,” Azzi smirked. “Or you might start drooling.”

“Shut up. I’m just nervous. I have a bad feeling about this game,” Paige muttered.

“Hey.” Azzi brushed a strand of hair away from Paige’s eyes. Paige had to remind herself that the younger girl was just doing this for the thousands of people watching, that there was no emotion or greater meaning behind her action. “Don’t be nervous. You’re gonna be great.”

Paige managed to muster up a half-hearted smile. Azzi nudged her shoulder with hers. “But don’t let that make you all cocky. Just play your heart out like you always do, yeah?”

The blonde nodded, nudging Azzi’s shoulder back.

——————

When it happened, Azzi was celebrating. She’d just sunk a three from the screen that Aaliyah had set for her. As she ran back to defense, she’d hyped up the crowd, lifting up her arms with a grin on her face. It was only the second quarter and UConn was already up by 12 points.

So Azzi hadn’t even seen it happen. All she’d heard was a thump, a groan of pain, frantic whistles blowing and the chaos of the crowd, until she’d turned around and seen Paige on the floor, clutching her knee, the entire crowd now silent.

“Azzi,” Paige had said, her face twisted in pain as she’d rocked on the ground.

Everything after that was a blur. As soon as Azzi heard her name, she’d had tunnel vision, and she’d ran, faster than she thought her legs could take her, until she was by her side, panting.

She’d crouched, scared to touch her, scared to move her for fear of hurting her more. Until Paige had repeated her name again, Azzi, and she’d lifted Paige’s head and put it in her lap. She looked down at her, and when their eyes met, they both knew. They knew what this meant. They knew Paige hadn’t just twisted or sprained or even fractured her knee. Paige started crying then, and Azzi had cradled her head. “I got you,” she’d whispered. “I got you.”

Her thumbs had brushed against Paige’s temples, attempting to provide any comfort possible, as they waited for the team physician to come. When the physician came, he propped Paige up, wrapping her arm around his shoulders so that he could help her limp off the court.

Azzi had ran up to Geno, stumbling over her own feet. “Geno,” she’d gasped. “Please.”

Geno hadn’t let her at first, forcing her back in the game. But when she kept on missing shots, when she kept letting the person she was supposed to guard slip by, kept on forgetting to move off the ball because all she could think about was Paige, the terrible hurt in her eyes, the way the first thing that she’d said after she went down was her name, Geno had pulled her out. “I don’t need you spreading your anxiety to my bench,” he’d said gruffly, not even sparing her a look. “Go.”

So Azzi had sprinted, off the court and into the hallway. When she’d reached the physician’s room, she’d halted outside. What if Paige didn’t want to see her? Even with the past few weeks, she wouldn’t exactly consider them friends. But she’d straightened her shoulders and pushed the door anyways.

Paige’s head had shot up. The game was playing live on the television in the corner, and she had been watching intently. “What’re you doing?” Paige had said aggressively. “You’re supposed to be out there.”

Azzi had stepped wordlessly in. Had moved closer until she could see the dampness on Paige’s cheeks, until she was touching Paige’s hair and Paige had leaned her forehead against her stomach, had started crying, violent sobs that soaked Azzi’s shirt. Azzi had wrapped her arms around Paige’s shoulders, had held her closer, had let Paige cry until she’d exhausted herself.

She didn’t leave Paige’s side for even a second that night.

[notrealistick]

I wish there were more fics about Ace leaving the wbp or not joining at all. And that they focus on why he won’t join, and everything that influences his decision.

Bc every time i think about it, Ace as a person is so much more dangerous and complicated than people give him credit for.

(Especially people saying he wasn’t "that" important to the story, or that he died for no reason) Do i think the way his death was written, could have been better? Absolutely! But that doesn’t mean his death wasn’t impactful, or important. (But thats a whole other thing.)

But let’s take it from the top. Ace is a person that’s been depressive since he figured out who his father was (age 5-6) even being told to end his life in many gruesome ways, even if not directly. He was dehumanized from the beginning by practically everyone around him, even the bandits and Garp (yes telling a CHILD, that they have to figure out themselves if they deserve to live or not, is fucking insane. The same as being called a demon by dadan)

Then he met Sabo and they started to get along, and stealing things from people/or ravaging thru the grey terminal,for their stash so they could achieve freedom. (This is extremely watered down bc it’s not the focus)

They do that for a few years, til Luffy comes along and the whole 3 months thing starts,. Until ofc bluejam gets luffy and the torture happens. Ace ofc being not only impressed and absolutely baffled at, how someone would do that not only to themselves but for him as well, when there was no reason to, gave Ace the go, at trusting Luffy.

I mean seriously Luffy getting tortured for hours, even tho he didn’t know Ace or Sabo well and him still being a child, must have absolutely terrified Ace, especially bc Luffy didn’t grow up like him, which means his body and mind isn’t adapted to being around crooks, thieves and criminals. Luffy being able to withstand torture like that, gave Ace the ability to welcome him into his life, bc he now knows that Luffy is willing to protect and do what is necessary for his loved ones, and Ace will do the exact same, even if it gets him killed. It’s a pattern he recognizes even if he hasn’t been in that situation yet, Ace always protects.

But coming back to whitebeard, he… did none of that..? It was just kinda weird for me to see him transfer so easily if at all "what do you mean easily" "he spent over hundred days trying to kill him" yeah that is just what happens when you kidnap someone and let them roam freely… like no shit they’re gonna attack..?

Take it into perspective real quick.

Ace wants to know if he’s strong. He wants to fight an emperor, to find out. He could have easily asked shanks for a battle but didn’t, bc he respects the guy and bc Luffy has practically dubbed him Family.

So he goes after whitebeard and says "I’m aiming to go after whitebeard" when he shows up at the beach he simply says "i wanna talk to whitebeard" ofc Jimbei says he won’t let that happen bc of his bloodlust even tho it didn’t look like Ace was emitting anything of the kind (it’s been a long time since i read the manga pls don’t sue me🥲)

But yeah they fight for five days straight almost killing each other, and then both collapsing at the end due to exhaustion. But Ace still got up again after whitebeard showed up and even managed an attack or two while protecting his crewmates.

That’s fucking insane. Ace got his devil fruit. made it thru paradise in the shortest amount of time ever. Was offered the position of warlord and managed to practically beat a warlord, all in the span of (apparently) ONE YEAR!!?! That’s terrifying and that’s definitely a person you should be scared of, if they come knocking at ya door.

But yeah showing up to a Fight that completely exhausted Ace and had him passed out on his feet and saying "i want you to become my son" feels like the biggest slap in the face… idk why but even i felt offended and insulted on Ace’s behalf. Like who the actual fuck says/does something like that??

I don’t even know why it pissed me off so much, maybe i was just annoyed bc Right after Ace literally said no flat out, (no literally means no, in any situation btw) and then passed out. Whitebeard just took him and his crewmates anyway and from then out just told him "he’s part of the family" like excuse you?

That’s not even the worst part. The others were worse, by making comments like "well you’re gonna be family soon enough" "we are your family now" and "you’ll change your mind" Like that sound manipulative and shady as fuck.

Like actually think about that, you said no, still get kidnapped and everyone else tells you you’re not a prisoner but you cannot leave and they tell you, that they’ll change your mind soon enough…

That’s terrifying, that’s scary. Especially for someone like Ace, that saw people die in the grey terminal, he saw what happened when others had more control. Ace went out to sea bc of his vow to Sabo and Luffy, and their core values were always freedom, and that never changed, it’s even said that Ace has more views that align with revolutionary beliefs rather than a pirate.

Whitebeard took away his freedom, his crewmates, that he swore to protect and put him into a situation that was impossible to win or escape from.

We all remember that Ace can’t run away from a fight, we saw it with bluejam in the grey terminal, and that in the Ace didn’t run away, and fought bluejam with Dadan til he passed out, after while Ace left him to die in the fire and working to get back home with dadan.

He explained that he couldn’t run away and that he thinks it’s because he’ll loose something important if he does. And it’s shown to be correct in every single fight, where he doesn’t run.

Grey terminal: Sabo, Luffy and bandits

Beach fight: crewmates

Baranao: innocent’s

Marineford: Luffy again

There’s always someone behind him, that he holds dear. So in the end it’s not pride that keeps him fighting, it’s responsibility and fear of losing something important. He swore to protect, which automatically makes him responsible for the people that stand behind him bc he promised and he’ll be dammed if he fails at protecting someone ever again.

So in the end Whitebeard practically made him live out his worst nightmares in a tame kind of way that absolutely disturbs me, even if he didn’t know. But all that summed up, i just got kinda pissed off about how the entire introduction to whitebeard went.

Ofc there’s the "he calls us sons, which makes us happy" thing but in all honesty, i highly doubt that could’ve been enough to sway a head strong and traumatized person like Ace. And i know they actually fight in his novel but that should have been the end of it, Ace giving up and admitting he can’t beat whitebeard

(which to be fair he already knew that? Like Ace isn’t that stupid and we know it, even if he had the power to kill whitebeard, he probably wouldn’t have done it, bc there’s no way he can fight over 100 members of the strongest yonko crew)

But yeah him taking off after that and maybe even allowing training or advice from the whitebeards would have been the only thing, i could’ve seen coming if Ace actually had, had a fait chance.

This is probably extremely messy, and there are probably many spelling mistakes and shit, but it’s also way longer than i expected, so i apologize (but then again it’s 2AM I’m tired and got slightly irritated that i couldn’t find any good fics where Ace wasn’t a whitebeard pirate, so this thing is probably very biased and mostly plays on my own emotions and trauma experience 👍 so i apologize for this weird character analysis of Ace done by an exhausted and extremely annoyed person) corrections in the text and mistake correction is very welcome

English is my third language, so the good writer thing doesn’t count ok😭

[garbinge]

SO SIMPLE (4/?)

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader // Word Count: 5.4k Summary: After meeting Rooster (and some people in his life), you two walk on the beach and share some things with each other. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Angst re: heavy topics. Mentions of parental loss/grief. Mentions of lifting reader off the ground. A/N: For some reason this was really hard for me to write lol. I feel like it's filler without being filler? If that makes sense lol. I do have a rough plan for these two that'll probably span over a few more fics! Thanks to everyone whose enjoyed this! Appreciate you all <3

📲 Bradley: You busy? 

💬 You: Depends.  

📲 Bradley: What if I told you I’ll be shirtless?

💬 You: I’m free. 

📲 Bradley: I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.

💬 You: I know, you’ve got killer abs too. 

📲 Bradley: I feel objectified. 

💬 You: It’s not objectification if you enjoy the attention. 

📲 Bradley: You got me there. 

💬 You: So what are these plans where you’ll be shirtless?

📲 Bradley: Beach in front of The Hard Deck, 4PM.

💬 You: Do I need tickets? 

📲 Bradley: Tickets?

💬 You: To the gun show.

📲 Bradley: Admission is always free for you. 

Smiling, you put your phone down and looked at the time, there was about an hour until 4. With a sigh, you opened the laptop in front of you, adjusting yourself in the office chair that was large, leather, and brown, not your style at all, until you were comfortable and looked over to your right. The image of your family sat dusty and in the same position it had always been in, right next to the few medals and pen stand. This was the one spot you knew you’d be able to write what you needed to. 

You were right, because before you knew it, the sun was shining golden through the window behind you and you realized it was definitely past 4. 

“Shit.” You shut the laptop closed and pushed your phone in your pocket before grabbing your bag and heading out the door. 

Walking up on the sand, you saw the large group of pilots playing football. They were laughing, tackling, yelling, dancing all while you brought your hand over your eyes to take the scene in. Your eyes scanned over them all, first seeing your brother, pointing at someone with a large grin before the play was called out. Your glance jumped around to see Rooster, sunglasses on–of course, his tongue hanging out as he caught the ball and landed a touchdown, following it up with a dance as he threw the ball to the ground. 

You let out a laugh, which caused someone to turn around to your left. As your eyes caught it in the peripheral, you turned, seeing Penny, the owner of The Hard Deck with a bunch of notebooks out on the table. 

“Sorry.” You moved the back of your hand that was shielding your eyes from the sun to your mouth to muffle the laugh as well as physically show your apology for the startle.

“No need.” She politely spoke, pointing to the table inviting you to sit. “I could use the company.” 

Joining the woman, you sat down so you were facing her, but your head couldn’t help but move to look out at the team having a good time and she was doing the same.

Eventually, she introduced herself, you gave her your name following it up with some pleasantries about the bar so she knew you were well aware of who she was even without the introduction. It was then that she put a finger on who you were. “Your Rooster’s friend, right?” 

That was new for you. Everytime you’d come home, you’d be referred to as Admiral Garcia’s daughter, Lieutenant Mickey Garcia’s sister, but never Rooster’s friend. 

“I am.” You agreed and looked over at the team tackling one another again, your eyes searching for Bradley. “Can I ask you something?” With your head moving back to Penny, she looked up from her paperwork and nodded. “What’s it like being back here?” 

Her confused look held strong for a few seconds which made you elaborate. “I might not have spent time at the bar, but I know the news around here, read that you spent some time here on base when you were younger, your father was an Admiral, then after some time you came back and bought the bar.” 

“Didn’t know my reputation preceded me like that.” Her smile grew and she dropped her pen and her hands intertwined with themselves as she stretched them across the table. 

“I like to read the paper.” You rolled your eyes slightly embarrassed and shrugged. 

“It’s…” Her voice trailed off as she thought of the right word. “It’s different. While having these incredible moments of the same feelings.” 

You nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. But she still took the time to discuss the details on that. 

“I’m different, right? I’m not who I was when I was here all those years ago. I have a kid now, a business, but even more than that, I’ve learned so much and grown so much. But then there’s these moments where I feel like I’m that person again, or something feels exactly like it did back then.” 

“Do you hate it?” 

“Not even for a second.” She smirked, her grin glistening as the sky continued to get golden as he day slipped away. “Is it hard being back?” 

Now it was your turn to be taken aback. 

“I read the paper, too.” Her eyebrows raised and then fell as you could tell she was thinking of something until it finally came to her.  “Life in Brief, I think it was called? Written by the girl who grew up in Fightertown USA.”

Now you understood and let out your own chuckle. “It is. But some things make it easier.” You turned again to watch the pilots lift up one of the guys you knew was Bob up in the air and let your grin grow wider. “But sometimes, being here is hard. The memories you know? Not all of them are the best. It’s easier to get past them when you’re not drowning in them.” 

Penny nodded and let a few minutes of quiet pass before picking her pen back up with a shrug. “Maybe you’re back so you can learn to swim.” 

That was something you never thought of and when you continued to marinate on it, you liked the sound of it. Feeling more in control of something that you thought you really had no control over at all these last years. You were about to answer her, get more in depth about what she meant, but instead another voice was filling the conversation. 

“Didn’t think you’d show.” Rooster was running up to you, sweat glistening all over his body, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as he bent down, leaning his arm on the table to prop him up so he could place a kiss to your lips. 

“I’m sorry I lost track of time.” Your left hand extended up to catch his face as he was pulling it away, bringing it in for another kiss which he happily obliged to. 

“Writing?” His face still twisted in a smile as he pulled away, hopeful he was right. 

You nodded, hiding your excitement behind a muted smile that quickly turned into an open grin as he thrillingly threw you over his shoulder. Letting out a few cheers, he twirled you around as you laughed with a bit of nerves as the twirling continued. 

“Rooster put me down!” It was spoken through your laughs and the occasional grip around his body to make sure he didn’t drop you. He listened, placing you down but it didn’t stop him from whirling you around and bringing you close to him, against his bare chest. 

“This what weekdays as a Top Gun Fighter Pilot look like?” You were now wrapped in his arms, looking up at him dropping your head to the right where the crew continued to play football. 

“Team building.” 

It was all the explanation you needed. “Go team build then, I’ll spend some time with Penny.” You were untangling from his arms until he caught your hand for a brief moment and pulled you closer to him in one swift motion and chuckled as he caught you against his chest. Placing one more kiss to your lips, this time deeper than the first letting his tongue move around your bottom lip, his hand was still grasping yours closer to him not wanting to let you go anywhere. 

You hadn’t known Bradley long, at this point it maybe was a week and a half, but what he said that night of your first real date was true. Things move fast when you’re on base. Days felt like weeks in some cases. It helped that every free moment he had, he’d share it with you. If he wasn’t on base training, he’d be at your place or at The Hard Deck with you. Now, you weren’t a stranger to dating. There was a fair share of relationships in your past. A couple serious ones that ended for one reason or another, a few more shorter ones that didn’t go past a few months, and a few more than that when it came to first dates and one night stands, but nothing felt like this. So simple. 

There was also the fact of the matter that you hadn’t been in any of those situations since your father died. It was probably why Mickey was so hesitant to play any typical protective older brother role once he found out about you two.  But Bradley was different. You just felt different around him. 

“For good luck.” He whispered in your ear after he kissed you. 

You picked back up where you left off with Penny, your conversation continued with little lulls and many laughs. It wasn’t always deep, she would tell you stories about Amelia, then about some of her favorite patrons of the bar. Currently, she was talking about how many people leave their phones on the bar when one of the culprits of just that came up to the table. 

“Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” An older, tall, dark-haired gentleman was approaching from the game as he placed his shirt back on. As he got closer, you realized you recognized him, you couldn’t put your finger on where exactly but you knew it probably had to do with your father. There had been quite literally thousands of naval pilots you had met over the years in passing. As he got closer, Penny introduced you to the man, letting you know he was the instructor for the team at Top Gun School. He leaned over to shake your hand, hearing his name–Pete Mitchell, sparked a little bit of your memory. 

“Captain.” Is how you greeted him back, while you didn’t refer to many of the other pilots by their rank, you were raised to show respect where you felt it was needed and this was one of those moments.  

“Pete, please.” He responded with a warm smile. 

“This is Rooster’s…friend.” Penny trailed off at the end of her sentence, judging by your display of affection before she was well aware you were more than friends but wasn’t going to assume your relationship. Lord knows she wasn’t exactly sure on what hers was at this moment either. 

Pete’s face got a little taken aback, his smile dropped just slightly, something maybe not everyone would notice but you learned to pay attention to little details like that. It’s what made your articles stand out, you’d be able to write a full paragraph based on a sparkle in someone’s eye or in this case sudden drop of a smile. Pocketing that small piece of information, you focused more on the conversation ahead of you with him.

“Where you visiting from?” He was trying to bounce back from his initial reaction all while he sat down next to Penny.

“Kettner Boulevard.” You were waiting for his eyes to widen and they did, you could tell because he lifted his sunglasses up like that was going to make what you said clearer or repeated to him. It was obvious he was searching your face for some familiarity trying to place you like a database running in his mind. Doing him the honor without needing to ask, you laughed and continued to talk. “I grew up here, Mick–Fanboy is my brother.” You pointed over to him. “Ad–”

Pete cut you off, “Admiral Garcia was your father, I’m sorry I didn’t realize. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

“I didn’t realize until you said your name.” You tried to make him feel more comfortable, speaking through a curt smile. “You were stationed on the USS John C. Stennis with my dad, right?”

“USS Ranger, actually. We were both on it when it got decommissioned.”

All it took was that one word to be spoken for it to snap into place. “That’s why you look familiar!” It had finally hit you, and your voice was drenched in satisfaction and excitement as you remembered. “You hacked the powerpoint montage at the decommissioning ceremony to show those hilarious videos from the guys on the ship over the years.” 

“Cujo is the one who actually hacked the slideshow, I’m the one that gathered the footage.” He remembered it like it was yesterday. All the white uniforms in the crowd trying to hold in their laughs while the music played through the speakers and videos of crewmates dancing in their bunks or sneaking into the freezer to eat from the tubs of ice cream filled the screen. 

“My dad loved to tell us that story, kept the photo of your group at the ceremony in his office, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile so much, especially after being put on a new assignment.” It was true, every time your father got put on a new assignment, he wasn’t exactly thrilled. It meant figuring things out like how long he’d be away from his family. It’s what made the jump from Lieutenant to Admiral easy for him. 

“That and he decided to make the jump to Admiral that year.” Pete remembered it well, because he was one of the many that had rallied for him to get the promotion. All of that was so long ago, and as it all came back to him, the memories, the years that passed in between, it was then that he realized it was only a handful of years ago that the Admiral had passed. “I was sad to hear of his passing.” It was his way of offering condolences. 

“Yea.” You nodded in agreement. “Thank you.” Your eyes moved to the water, it was hard to look at Penny or Pete, or anyone really, as you thought of your dad. “The service was nice.” 

Pete shook his head, picking up on your change in mood. Penny as well, and she was about to change the subject but Pete jumped in. 

“Are you Mickey’s older sister?” 

That comment brought you back from your thoughts with the widest grin on your face. “You just made my day, Pete.” 

With a confused smirk, he tilted his head looking for some sort of answer from you. 

“I’m the middle child. Mickey’s the oldest and we have a younger brother.” The noise of the pilots who were currently tackling one another in a dogpile called the attention of the table over. Your brother was jumping on top which made you wonder. “How’s Mickey?”

You never got the chance to ask anyone but him about him. And while he wouldn’t lie to you, he also wasn’t one to complain much, he’d tell you about his day when you called, any big plans that the future held. In fact that’s what brought you to come home when you did, while things lined up perfectly with your contract at The Washington Post being up, knowing your brother was going to be on base for a bit made it more convincing for you to visit. But when it came to this part of his life, being on mission, in training, being one of the best of the best, you didn’t know much. 

“He’s good, balanced–level headed as hell. Sometimes, you can tell when one of the guys is waiting for the other shoe to drop, you can see their anticipation, but not Mickey. He’s ready for whatever direction the shoe is dropping. Sometimes he’s even able to catch it.” Now it was Pete’s turn to look out at his team of pilots before turning back to you and shrugging. “Plus he knows his stuff.” Pete grinned at that and you did as well. “If I got a question, I know who to ask.” 

“Sounds like Mickey, they don’t call him Fanboy for nothing. Him and my dad were the same way, every detail embedded into their brains.” 

“He’s a good kid.” Pete nodded. “So how do you know Rooster?” That was the question you could tell he was waiting to ask you when it was appropriate. His face had hardened, just slightly, but again enough for you to notice. 

It was what happened next though, where you really picked up on something. 

“You ready to head out?” Rooster’s voice wasn’t in its usual tone. The straight lipped expression he was sporting and his eagerness to leave was enough in itself to show you there was something big in the air that you weren’t privy to. Not to mention that you hadn’t seen Bradley anything less than content in the time you had known him. 

It took you a minute to respond, trying to rack your brain around whatever situation was brewing here. “Yea, sure.” 

As you grabbed your bag and moved it over your shoulder, you offered a glance over at Pete and Penny. “Thanks for keeping me company.” As you climbed out of the bench, you shot a look over at Pete knowing he was going to love what you said next. “Keep Mickey on his toes, he might seem like he knows it all, but he’s got some pockets in that brain of his.” 

“Long walks on the beach, smooth move, Rooster.” Hangman was calling out to Bradley from only a few feet away as he tossed one of the footballs in the air while you two began to stroll on the coastline. He was one of the last pilots on the beach, everyone else had either gone back to their places near base or made their way into The Hard Deck for a drink, but not Hangman. “Don’t let the tide wash away all your ego, already got you sitting on the sidelines enough, don’t think we can take any more.” 

All Rooster did was raise his hand and flip Hangman off as you two continued to walk along the waterline. 

“Bird from a bird.” It was the last muffled thing Hangman said, or the last audible one at least. 

Now it was just the two of you, occasionally bumping shoulders as the water lightly brushed up your feet, rinsing sand off of them while simultaneously bringing more to them. Neither of you had said anything since he asked if you were ready to head out. Sounds of waves, seagulls, and cars were the only thing filling your ears. But your mind? Well that was filled with a lot. Questions mainly. In the short time you knew Bradley, asking him questions never felt as hard as it did in this moment so you spent the silent minutes passing convincing yourself to say it. 

“What’s the deal with you two?”

“Hangman? We’ve been at each other’s necks since The Academy. Just your usual nice guy vs. dickhead story.” That usual smile was on his face as he joked but you knew it wouldn’t stay there long with what you were really looking for an answer for. 

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about Hangman.” You served the comment with a side of a smile, to let him know you weren’t trying to be rude. It was something you said to him the first night you met, and you still meant it. 

It worked because he smirked from the side of his mouth before frowning and asking you what you meant then. 

“Pete.” 

It was one word. Four letters. But you would have thought you spoke a plethora of uncivilized and vulgar comments with how his face tightened, his jaw bones clenched, his chest tensed, all while his eyes did what yours did whenever you remembered anything surrounding the thought of losing your father–danced. They’d dance around looking for something to stare at, something to focus your energy on instead of the thought. 

Without thinking, you moved your hand into his, intertwining your fingers and leaning your body into his. It could have backfired, you had been in this situation plenty of times where you didn’t want to be touched, the feelings of heavy memories weighing you down enough that you didn’t need the weight of anyone else on you. But you’d also had be in the situation where all you needed was someone to grab you, pull you out of the mess that was your mind. You’d hope that this was that sort of moment. 

Rooster looked at you, something that he found extremely hard to do at that moment. It was always hard to look at someone when he was running through each thought about Maverick, about his father. The memories. And the thing was, they weren’t all bad, a lot of them were even good. But that was the thing, not only did those few bad ones sit a little more fresh and a little clearer than the good ones did– but the good ones almost felt like a reminder of them too. It’s why he’d always look away when someone mentioned it. Find his eyes searching around for something that would be on his side. Another reason it was so hard to be looking into your eyes right now, because he knew you would be on his side but your eyes also spoke forgiveness, the one things he was not ready for. But behind that, he saw someone who was just looking for answers to who he really was, which is what allowed him to open up, just a little bit. 

“He pulled my papers at The Academy.” 

You hated to follow it up with another question, but there wasn’t really room for any other words. “Why?” 

There were those dancing eyes again. Why. That was the weighted question. One that was too much Bradley. 

“You seemed to know him, with how you were talking with Penny and him earlier.” He didn’t let go of your hand, which was enough for you to know that while he didn’t want to answer your question, he wasn’t pushing you away either. Despite him not really asking you something specifically, you knew the information he was looking for. 

“Pete knew my dad. They were stationed on the USS Ranger together back in the 90s.” 

Rooster nodded at that, his jaw still clenched tightly again. 

You stopped walking, your hands intertwined is what pulled Rooster’s focus back onto you as his body turned back to see what you had stopped for. His eyes were scanning you up and down for an answer, searching your body for an injury or your face for some information. 

“I have to tell you something–well, want to tell you something.” 

“What’s up?” His jaw had loosened, the look of concern now filling his face as he searched your eyes for any hint to what you meant. 

You could have warmed him up to what you were going to say. Started out slow, explained the story in full, but something in you wouldn’t let you. Maybe it was because the story was hard to tell, with everything you knew now, the weight of all you knew before was heavier, harder to sift through. 

“I’m adopted.” 

His immediate reaction was on his face, a small twitch of his right cheek bone as his eyebrows moved together as the words processed in his brain. 

“That’s–that feels like a big deal.” 

Your lips curved slightly at that and your head barely moved in acknowledgement of it. 

“I just mean–that I’m surprised I didn’t know before.” He wasn’t mad, at all. He was racking his brain around it. 

Being adopted was something you recently felt sat differently with you than before. Now over the last few years as you grieved the loss of your dad, things just were different. There was a disconnect and you hated it. Hated to think of the detachment you felt. It started out as anger, searching for something that kept coming up short. You cried, a lot. Pushed people away. You remember when you showed up at your little brother’s doorstep out in Nevada, you didn’t call, hadn’t reached out in months, but you went there because he was the one that never pushed. Mickey called, alot. He was a problem solver. Griffin, he was an understander. You sobbed to him, told him what you thought, what you felt. How you didn’t feel like a Garcia anymore, you didn’t feel like you were able to keep your father close to you anymore. Then you buried all of it. Because it was too hard to revisit. 

You sat down in the sand, tapping the spot next to you for him to join you. Obliging, he plopped down, his eyes still on you waiting for you to talk while you looked out at the horizon. There were only a few minutes left of golden hour, and you felt the same ticking clock against the words you wanted to share which is why after a large exhale, you spoke before you talked yourself out of it. “I was 5 when I got adopted. Don’t remember too much before that besides jumping from a couple shitty homes for a bit. But that’s never really been the hard part for me–it’s now.” 

This was the most attention you had given these feelings in a while and suddenly it felt so easy to just let them out. 

“I don’t feel as connected to the family anymore–my dad especially. These last few years have just been coasting along this fuckin’ numbness. Mickey– he has,” you pointed to the sky and towards the base, “this.” Shaking your head you continued, “he’s Admiral Garcia’s son, you know? He gets to keep him close with that. Honor him with that.  My little brother, he’s Trainer Garcia’s son, got his own business out in Nevada training dogs. His love for it comes from everything my dad showed us.” Another head shake as you felt the tears starting to swell in your eyes you blinked a couple times and looked away, wiping them clean and free from your face paired with a couple muttered euphemisms as you tried to get out the hardest thought of all. “And me? I thought I had that. When he was alive, I felt so fucking connected. Not a single fucking doubt or anything you hear about kids who were adopted wondering about their biological parents or what their life could have been. I felt like I belonged. Like this was what was meant for me.” You swallowed and it tasted like salt water which meant the tears you wiped away before were letting loose on your face despite your previous efforts. “And then he died. And my whole fucking world crashed.” Those words were spoken at a higher octave as they rushed out in between a subtle cry. “I felt like I had nothing left of him here. Mickey had the Navy, Griffin had his business, and I had nothing.” 

You took a minute to take a deep breath, wiping your tears away and pushing all that feeling back where it came from. Rooster looked like he wanted to swoop in and hold you, like he could take the reason for your tears and strangle them until there was no chance they could come back and haunt you. His eyes though, they looked knowing. Like he knew the profound impact losing someone so close to you could do, and that even though he’d never understand the exact burden you faced, he wished he could take all the pain away from you and keep it for himself instead. 

Bradley was about to open his mouth to say something but in your effort of trying to mask it, you cut him off with a quick laugh. “I know I don’t have nothing, I’m not an idiot.” You smiled at that to let him know you weren’t completely woe is me right now. “I just mean, it’s why it’s hard coming around to writing this book. I’ve realized that I have this story–my story. And I don’t want it to be over.” 

“And if you write it, it’ll be over.” Bradley began to fully grasp the big picture and the gravity of what you were saying. It was honestly the best thing he could have said at that moment. You didn’t want pity, condolences or sorrow, you wanted someone to simply get it. 

“And when it’s over, I’ll be back in this limbo.” A mindless shrug came from your left shoulder because that was the end of it. The end of your unpacking. 

“Will you, though?” 

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe that’s where you always ended it. Feeling like you hit a wall when there was just a few more bricks to tear down before there was more to think about. Rooster questioning you wasn’t something you weren’t expecting. It was proof that you were still learning things about him.

“I hear you–totally hear you, but it doesn’t have to be this whole once you finish the story stops. If anything I think it gives it a place to live, it gives it this bigger purpose.” 

Bigger purpose. Wasn’t that what you were looking for this whole time? Between this and what Penny said earlier, you felt like today opened up a whole different viewpoint for you.

It was then that you were looking at him with this look–a new one for both of you but especially Rooster. It was one he couldn’t read off the bat and was squinting as he tried to search for some hint. 

“Who are you?” It was a joke, clearly you took his words to heart, opening your mind to new thoughts and perspectives. This was the second time in such a short time frame that Rooster managed to do this. He was standing up now, extending his hand out to you in an effort to help you up off the sand. 

“Some call me Bradley.” He tossed his arm over your shoulder once you stood up, bringing you snugged into his embrace, “some call me Bradshaw,” now a quick kiss was being placed on the top of your head as you both started to walk again, “some Rooster,” a modest shrug came from his shoulders as he spoke his call sign, “but all who know me know I am a master of wisdom, an enlightened mind, some might even say philosophical guru.” 

It was impossible not to laugh at his words, tucking your arm around his back as you cuddled in more to him, hearing his voice echo against his chest as he continued to boast about his grand sage. 

The silence eventually grew back over the two of you and you could tell that Rooster’s mind was wandering. Something was still hanging in the air and both of you knew it, but one of you was ruminating on it while the other was letting it go. For one of you the sound of the waves was amplifying the words bouncing around the brain while for the other, it was washing away expectation. The seagulls calls were poking at one of you, begging to speak the words out while for the other, it was a patterned song that drowned out the noise. 

You could tell that for Bradley, it was getting loud in his head because he spoke the words out so urgently. 

“Pete knew my dad, too.” 

Your neck snapped up to look at him. That clenched jaw was back and in action as he continued to talk to you, less urgently now and more just sorting through it all. You remembered when you told Rooster you wanted to know everything. How hard it was for him, and it ended up being what made you fall for him. He was this complex guy, who had been through things so similarly to you and was still figuring it out. So that’s what the two of you did as you walked along the California coast. He told you everything. About losing his mom, growing up without his dad, and then he told you about Maverick. Then the two of you just sat in those emotions that you both harbored for so long, and suddenly they didn’t feel so heavy for once. It felt simple. So simple.

Dividers by: @cafekitsune :3 🛫Top Gun Maverick Taglist:  @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @writing-until-i-drop @jtheteenagewitch @meera10 @winchester-whiskey (let me know if you’d like to be added! I'm using my all writing taglist right now!)

CHAPTER INDEX <- where you can find previous chapters to this fic!

[kifkay]

Jobs the Winx pick after they’re done adventuring [NewGen au]

the Winx, although still friends and partners, had officially disbanded! now they’re off to their solo adventures. this is an AU, where not all of the Winx-Specialists pairs ended up settling down together - because, let’s be honest, high school sweethearts rarely do.

Stella:

In her mid-to-late thirties, Rhodos abdicates and officially passes down the crown of Solaria to Stella.

Stella and Brandon are still dating and very much in love.

Before becoming Queen, Stella tries out a lot of occupations — she owns a fashion boutique, starts in a couple of (failed) movies, runs a couple of charities which help repatriate Domino survivors.

Once, she even directs a documentary about the Winx and the Specialists. It ends up having very… controversial reviews, but the Team thinks it’s fun.

As queen, Stella advocates for friendly relationships between Solaria and many of the other planets - including Domino, Andros, Zenith. Even Eraklyon, although her and Sky don’t get along much these years.

Her and Brandon foster a girl, Mara, whom Brandon had rescued from a branch of a weird cult that settled in Solaria. Despite previously agreeing to at least hold off on having children, they love Mara to bits and are very protective over her.

Bloom:

Previously: Travelling Architect. Her one true calling. Bloom vastly enjoys being able to travel planet to planet, and come up with breathtaking architectural designs. This also gives her an opportunity to visit her girls more often.

As of now: Domino Palace Archivist. Queen Daphne’s mysterious illness has re-surfaced. Furthermore — it is progressing alarmingly fast. The royal family must be prepared for the worst, and so the second-born princess is called back to the castle urgently. For the next five years, Bloom serves as the Archivist of Domino’s records and history, as well as being low-key groomed to take over the realm - at Daphne’s own insistence.

In that period, Bloom finally moves on from her decade long on-and-off again situationship with Sky. She marries a warlock curse-breaker Saffi, with whom she has a daughter — Vanessa Mari.

Bloom also inherits her mother’s seat in the Company of Light and holds quite an important position there. Helia, who inherited Saladin’s seat, becomes her close ally and friend. Their family spend many weekends together, vacationing on beaches and having picnics.

Flora:

Currently: Guardian Fairy of Linphea, focusing on protecting various eco-systems of her home-world.

She is more of an alchemist and a researcher these days, rather than an active combatant. Flora arrives in places that have been de-stabilised by either extreme bouts of magic or human intervention, and seeks to heal them.

On a mission to a particularly messed up place which reeks of dark magic corruption, Flora meets an old friend — Mirta, who has been commissioned as a dark magic consultant! They get dinner afterwards, and well… it just goes great after that.

Flora is loving being a step-mom to Mirta’s daughter <3

Musa:

She becomes a musician and a singer, like she always wanted. Musa doesn’t reach amassing success, but she has a loyal fan base who love her for her amazing lyricism and vocals.

Tecna serves as her manager for quite some time, until she resigns for… reasons.

Musa was so sure she would marry Riven one of those days - but then he starts acting weird. Distancing himself. Holding secrets. Eventually, the specialist makes a huge spectacle of publicly severing all contact with the Team - and her. They break up, because of course they do.

Then, Riven goes off the grid. Completely disappears.

Time goes by, Musa stops touring and becomes a music composer. Her clientage is huge and spans many planets.

She has two daughters, one son, one husband and one ex (not Riven), who succumbs to a horrible, magically corrupting illness which, seemingly, comes out of nowhere.

Aisha:

Her and Nabu are going strong. She is the crown princess to the throne of Andros and he is her consort.

Being back in the palace of Andros — constantly reminded of horrible treatment and stifling loneliness she has been subjected to as a child — is hard on Aisha.

She starts regressing, becoming more withdrawn from her friends and acquaintances. Aisha is still a rebel at her core, willing to stand up and fight for what she thinks is best — but. she is just. so tired.

Nabu is always at her side. They have happy times; times, when the darkness and the apathy retreat to let Aisha breathe.

Aisha acts as Andros’s ambassador. Her, Stella, Sky and Bloom & Helia (who had both inherited seats in the Company of Light from their parents/grandparent) often work together.

They have two children, Manar and Sagar.

In recent years, Nabu had gotten ill. loosing his energy, his strength, his magic. none of the healers can explain the sudden shift in a seemingly healthy man; they only theorise that he might be suffering previously-latent repercussions of his comma and entanglement with the Dark Circle.

Aisha spirals again and distances herself from everybody but her closest family.

Tecna:

like Stella, Tecna alternated many professions.

throughout their years at Alfea, Tecna - thanks to her well-rounded and all encompassing education in Zenith, which included music theory, - has helped Musa in her artistry. Giving feedback, searching for gigs, sharing artists she might learn from online.

when Musa officially starts her music careers, she asks Tecna to be her manager - to which the girl readily agrees.

Tecna also freelances on the side: developing flying software for the Red Fountaine, writing codes and whatever else she finds interesting. Zenith tries desperately to get her to work for them, but she is not really interested.

Tecna is not interested in any romantic relationships, but stays close with almost all of her friends. Even Riven!

After years of working together, Tecna resigns as Musa’s manager. It’s a clean break and neither is terribly upset: Tecna is Musa’s kids’ godmom, for Dragon’s sakes! They stay close, although Tecna is awfully tight-lipped about her “new project with Timmy”.

The project Timmy and her are working on is — well, neither Internet nor any planet has records on it.

Currently: Tecna is working her way up as a Zenithian lab researcher. She doesn’t seem to be making much headway, but Tecna doesn’t lose hope. Eventually, she’ll get where she needs to be…

The Specialists will be up next! hopefully, the text is coherent enough <3 trying out something new

[psychomusic]

meet doctor leptis ferrer, also known as fixer nine!

he collaborated with cipher thirteen on a few crucial missions, but his most important aspect is his research.

his backstory before becoming a fixer + some worldbuilding of his home planet under the cut!

he was born on niamos, that, at the time, was shifting from being a planet with its people inhabiting it to the Space Beach™ we know from andor. amidst this changing environment, little leptis was born.

niamos was divided into three main groups of people. the natives; the tourists, who were growing in number, but only stayed temporarily; and the offworlders who settled down and started to run mainly tourism-centered business. the niamos people, called avile, still ruled over the planet, having their own political organizations that excluded the newcomers. aviles allowed the offworlders to settle down in their certain parts of their lands only because that generated profit through taxes, but they weren't allowed to fully integrate in their society nor leave the permitted areas under any circumstances.

actually, the aviles allowed these settlements rather recently, after a series of revolts in the lower classes. in theory, their system was a democracy - in practice, only rich enough people could afford to become politicians, because there was no retribution for it. so, they decided to allow newcomers to settle in, with a tax, that would be used for the retribution of political positions. the more people started moving to niamos, the more new positions could get paid.

(quick colored sketch of a part of their territory - pardon the ugly af buildings but i hate drawing them)

when the initial wave of new politicians from the lower classes got into the system, they started turning the system into a full, direct democracy, reform by reform. most roles were assigned by casual drawing from a list of volunteers, and no one could keep their chair longer than a year in every position. but, after the initial wave of openness and inclusion, things changed.

initially, there weren't any laws on citizenship or access to politics. it wasn't explicitly said that offworlders couldn't partake in politics, so when they began taking interest in it, with political programs that addressed their needs and problems, the natives started to fear that their flourishing tourism business would change the political balance they had reached. many feared that, in the span of a few generations, the niamos would be governed by the interests of the tourist business, that attracted visitors (and their money) from many star systems.

so, they started to legislate. to be a niamos citizen, one had to be born in a family of niamos people, quite obviously. at first, children born of mixed parents weren't allowed citizenship, and weren't even really a thing. but as the offworlders areas grew larger, and more offworlders settled on niamos, some protests arose.

then, they had to change the legislation. they were a people with a strong and deeply felt culture - they decided to use it as a base to legislate further. the niamos had many rites and trials, and a complex language, called caile. one would become citizen only by successfully passing all the trials, partaking in all the rites, and fully learning the language.

the first trial was a long pilgrimage with a wooden boat (and an animal) to an island. this allowed the child (around 6-7 y.o.) to go to school, where they could learn the language. this first trial was easy for any "full" avilec child to pass, as they traveled around the various islands of their world on a daily basis. offworlders, however, were still confined into one section of a bigger island. this allowed only children who spent enough time sailing with their avilec parent to pass the test.

then, they would be allowed into a school that would teach them how to read and write. the school, though, only taught in avilec language - so, the children already had to speak caile at home, to be able to pass the tests at the end of the year. after that, it mostly got easier - one would study the niamos history, and was asked to partake in every smaller rite that tightened the community and better integrated the new members.

around 18, though, to become a legal adult, there was another trial (here, it granted access to vote and independence. then, as one got older, they'd have to pass a trial to be able to volunteer and be elected for each position - the age grew with the importance of the role, but the difficulty of the trials only decreased). it was a relatively simple trial: it was a boat pilgrimage around every island in the archipelago - something anyone could do.

but leptis failed it.

when he was around 14 years old, he went on a boat pilgrimage with his family to reach a sacred island in front of the offworlders' sector. there, a young sea monster who had lost its way attacked him. he clenched his big jaw on his body - the monster's mouth was big enough to cover his entire torso and get a good grip anyway. as his family panicked, from the shore, some tourists saw the scene and called for help, and help arrived in the form of medics on a speeder and an offworlder with a gun, who shot the beast, who immediately lost its grip on leptis.

the offworlders' hospitals, with special legislation, were open to everyone. it was the only thing the niamos paid a tax for, as they recognized that the offworlders' medicine was better than theirs for some things. they did mostly go to their old medics, but when that failed, they relied on those hospitals as well. knowing that no niamos medic could save their son, his parents allowed him to be taken away with the speeder.

in his parents' eyes, his survival was a miracle, and they accepted it without questions. instead, little leptis began wanting to know how he was saved. so he began studying medicine. he devoted himself to the subject. even as he ruined his connection to the rest of the community (he stopped partaking to the rites - he wasn't forced to go, as both his parents were aviles, and nobody thought a niamos would stop partaking in the rites, so there weren't any rules on that) he kept on studying.

when he turned 18, he had to leave his studies to complete the trial. he was doing well, as everyone always did, until he reached the spot where he was attacked. he never went back there since the incident. suddenly, he relived all of it again, and couldn't move anymore. he was paralyzed by the flashback, and trembled heavily as he realized that there was a wound the doctors hadn't healed. unable to continue, he failed the trial.

no avile had ever failed the trial, but the law seemed clear - he couldn't have access to politics, and wouldn't become an adult. he became an outcast - his peers continued their lives while he was forced out of it, forced to depend on his parents, forever. but mostly, he started to have trouble dealing with the incident like he never had. he was distressed and tense, and couldn't sleep properly. he went back to the medics, and they told him he had ptsd - and that they couldn't do much about it. that shocked him - they saved his organs from failing and stitched his broken body back together in ways that would seem impossible to comprehend, but they couldn't do nothing to heal his hurt brain?

so that became his research interest.

[rainbowtransform]

I fear nobody on tiktok reads my captions so I’m just going to start posting them on here for fun

***

“I don’t know why you’re going back there,” Kenjaku says. His nose is in the air and his back is turned, arms crossing like that’s going to stop Suguru from packing.

“You’re not my husband,” Suguru snaps, patience thin after seven years of being trapped with someone who twists and turns his words. Someone who gave him children, just to pull them away, to try and tighten their hold on him so he wouldn’t keep building the raft that took him years.

“Oh I’m sorry, oh great King of Ithaca,” Kenjaku hisses right back. His form shifts rapidly, switching between their real face, Satoru, and Suguru’s own. “I just thought after seven years you’d fucking take the hint.”

Suguru closes his eyes, and counts back from ten. Kenjaku used to love waking Suguru up in Satoru’s form, smile blossoming along his face and crooning a “good morning.”

He used to love watching the joy Suguru drain when he realized that he wasn’t home, and Kenjaku wasn’t his husband.

“I’m taking the kids,” he says. His girls are packing now, their little faces absolutely glowing when Suguru told them that they were coming with him.

Kenjaku laughs bitterly. “Sure,” he says. “Take them away so I can never see them or you again. Oh and don’t forget to tell Satoru how you got them exactly. Don’t leave out any details.”

Suguru clenched his teeth. Nanako and Mimiko will be an amazing addition to their family, at home, he reasons with himself. Satoru and him have no children, nobody to lay claim to the throne. Since his girls are his blood, they have two heirs.

And Suguru doesn’t want to leave them in a place where their parent would be too angry to focus. He doesn’t want to leave them at all, in fact. He taught them to walk in the five years they have been alive, taught them words and where their home is and knows that Satoru would love them.

Suguru sucks another deep breath in, and then bids goodbye to the god that kept him stranded. He packs his boat tight with supplies and packs the girls’ things in while they say goodbye to the beach, and the waves, and the sun and the moon and the trees and the chickens and the orchard.

And then they set sail. Nanako and Mimiko sre are curious children, and they watch Suguru with bated breath and laughs at the water that sprays into their mouths and giggles at the way that Suguru messed with their hair.

It’s so perfect, Suguru doesn’t believe it when Mimiko screams in horror, one of her hands disappearing into dust. He thinks she just got a power from her other parent and laughs before Nanako suddenly misses a leg.

“Daddy?” They cry in unison and Suguru rushes over, almost tips the boat in his hurry. He reaches his arms out for his girls, waits for the warmth of their body to hit him so he can make everything better before—

There is nothing but dandelion tuffs floating in the wind. Winding their way back to Kenjaku’s island. Suguru watches in horror as the dandelions twist and turn to settle on the green grass at someone’s feet.

He raises his eyes to look at Kenjaku, who is smiling smugly at him. One of his hands are raised, one finger crooked as if to call for someone. Or someones.

Suguru holds strong until the God’s island is out of his sight. And then he breaks into sobs, huge wretched things that take his entire lung span.

He wonders if this is what Poseidon felt when he came from the water to view his son blinded.

(In Ithaca, a husband unweaves a shroud and tells a story about a king’s adventure to a black-haired little boy, and a brown-haired little girl. The girl says she’d rather stay home. But there’s a shine in the black-haired boy’s eyes, a hunger for travel and adventure. There is the same look in the husband’s eyes, eyes roaming the sea every day for a glimpse of ships on the horizon.)