#but knowing you probably won't feel that again

[cloudedangels]

Dr’s Orders 18+

⋆⁺₊❅。

You (f reader) are ovulating, but you can't bring yourself to request what you really need… Dr. Zayne has a treatment plan for that... luckily! ● ≈4,025 words ughggh ● probably needs proofreading ● adult!!! ● mdni!!!

Tags and cw: ovulation!: the plot device, zayne, dr zayne cures you of your horny disease kinda, piv, oral (f receiving), mostly sex no plot, in the hospital of all places!, creampie, multiple rounds, fingering, established relationship implied, self indulgent smut— you know the drill

a/n: this SUCKED to write omg omg im freee you can probably tell my sauce was running out... this mostly SUCKED to write bc I am on my period a week and a half early (???) & I have 1 endometriosis (,: this is also my first time writing zayne which i hope gets better bc he's my pretty lil baby, I need him [redacted].

Go bunnie.

▪︎ next up:

☆caleb's very late birthday fic

☆extended leave pt six

☆hubby!zayne drabble

vibrator series pt 3 and pt 4

⋆⁺₊❅。

⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。⋆⁺₊❅。

Zayne isn’t blind.

He sees the way your legs cross tighter than usual, the way your hand lingers too long on the hem of your sleeve, picking at threads like you're trying not to crawl out of your skin.

You’d stared at the closed door to his office ten times today. Every time you almost knocked, your throat had closed up. Your fingers fiddle with the edge of your sleeve again, tugging it just a little too hard until it bunches in your palm. The scent of antiseptic clings to the air, mixing with your own faint perfume, and it makes your stomach twist like a knot you can’t undo.

You'll just sit in his office and wait for him to get off as always.

And... when you see him, you're all off.

Zayne however… he knows exactly what day it is. Five days post-period. Right on schedule. He does the math in his head because, well, of course he does. He’s a surgeon. He keeps track of things.

He doesn’t mention it, not aloud. He just watches you try to wrestle yourself into stillness like you're trying to outwit your own body. He can feel it in the air—how needy you are, how tightly wound. You think you're subtle, but Zayne knows tension better than most. He lives in it and operates through it. And you're practically vibrating with it. The sterile, slightly cold office smells faintly of antiseptic and leather. Outside, the dull hum of hospital noises lingers beyond the closed door.

You won’t ask him. Not directly. Maybe you think you’re being polite. Maybe you're afraid he’ll be embarrassed. But he’s not the one squirming in a rolling chair in his office, trying to fight biology and failing.

Still, you don’t ask. You want to ask, but your voice feels small, unsure. You’ve always tried not to be a bother, this relationship is only recently sexual... but now, not asking feels like self-denial. But you can't.

So he shifts his strategy. If you won't ask him, shouldn't he ask you for a favor? That'd work wouldn't it?

He’s quiet for too long. Not in the usual way. In the way that makes your stomach twist. He’s calculating something, staring at your lips like they hold some equation he hasn’t quite solved. You feel it before he speaks—something shifting in him. Something about to snap loose? He flushes as he turns to you, words falling out like dominos.

“I need to finger you.”

His words hang in the air, clinical but sudden... like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. His jaw's tightening briefly, a twitch of the muscle betraying the calm he’s trying to maintain. His eyes flicker down to your lips like he’s memorizing their shape… a calculation paused mid-equation.

You blink. “What?”

Your heart hammers a little faster. You want to protest, but your throat feels dry and thick, and your body answers before your brain can catch up. There's heat pooling low and insistent.

Zayne clears his throat lightly, deadpan as ever. “Desperately. I'm, ah—struggling. It’s been difficult to focus. All I can think about is the sound you make when you come. So.” He tilts his head slightly. “This is for medical reasons. Mine. Urgent.”

You're trying to make sense of this, he's usually so much more put together than this… you're so horny you don't want to deny him but… You’ve never heard him stumble like this—not even when talking you through surgical risks or listing medications. Zayne is precision incarnate. So when his voice falters, it knocks the air out of you.

“I mean… if you want, I could give you—”

“No.” He cuts you off, eyes narrowing slightly. The room seems to shrink around you. The hum of the fluorescent light overhead blurs into a steady drone as your pulse hammers in your ears. His steady gaze pins you in place, and your breath catches.

“I’m not joking. The only thing that's going to help me is your thighs on my shoulders and my fingers inside you. Repeatedly. I need to make you come, and I need to taste you while I do it. That’s the only thing that’s going to help.”

You stare at him, throat dry. “You... need... that.”

“Yes,” he says, perfectly serious. “Badly. Like, clinically.”

A beat passes. Then another.

“You’re—” you try to say something clever, but it falls flat against the heat surging in your gut.

“I’m what?” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Depraved? Professional? Pathetic?”

You whisper, “Perfect.”

Zayne exhales once through his nose, the closest he gets to smiling when he’s trying not to lose composure. There’s a twitch in the corner of his mouth, and his hand comes up—Hesitant and precise, it brushes your cheek.

“So it’s alright, then?” he says, voice softer now. “If I... lose control. Just a little… With you...”

You nod before he even finishes the sentence.

And just like that, your quiet, unbearable need—masked in silence and polite restraint—crashes into his own. His eyes flicker with something unreadable—pain, longing, something deeper. For a moment, neither of you move. Then, slow and deliberate, his fingers curl around your wrist, pulling you closer. The sharp tang of antiseptic mingles with the warm, powdery scent of his cologne, a strange but intoxicating combination that makes your breath hitch.

His lips press into yours soft and patient, and with the easy state you're in, you're already letting out a soft whimper when he kisses you with such gentleness... touches you with such wanting. You're caving into him as he pulls back, begging silently for more of his lips and the powdery scent of his cologne.

He sinks to his knees, not because you asked, but because he did. Thank God.

You’re still blinking down at him, standing with your breath shallowed, as if waiting for him to laugh and walk out. But he doesn’t. He just reaches—fingers confident, deliberate—and taps once against your knee.

“Up,” he says softly. “Come on. Be good for me. Legs over the exam table.”

You obey because you always do. But also because the way he looks at you—precise, studied, patient—makes disobedience feel impossible. Punishable, even. You scoot back on the padded surface, letting your legs fall apart, and you swear his pupils dilate just slightly.

The paper beneath your thighs crinkles loudly—embarrassingly—like it dislikes what you’re doing. The scent of antiseptic cuts through the heat in your blood. Even your shirt feels too tight, too rough. The overhead lights hum, too bright, too sterile. You feel exposed and examined. Everything feels like too much… except him.

He hums. It’s not amusement, not quite. It’s approval.

“Perfect positioning. Should’ve let me do this days ago. You’re—” He clicks his tongue once. “Edging into clinical negligence, keeping me from a treatment this vital.”

His hands are warm. Sterile. Methodical. He touches you like he’s mapping nerve endings. His thumbs press into the crease of your thighs, spreading you further. He studies you like you’re a case study, a problem he already knows how to solve but enjoys solving again anyway.

You're shaking. “And this… is... for you?” You mutter, a whisper of disbelief mixed with pleasure.

“Yes. Yes, and I want you to know,” he murmurs as he leans in, “that I’m not improvising. I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Thoroughly.”

Then he licks. Just once—slow, flat-tongued, exploratory. You jerk. He doesn’t flinch. Just shifts closer.

“Mhm,” he murmurs clinically, like he’s tasting for acidity in a dish. “As suspected.”

Another swipe. This time more pressure, more purpose. His hands keep you open, one sliding up to rest gently over your abdomen, steadying you. He moans low in his throat—not theatrical, not showy. A slip of sound, as if he forgot he could be heard.

“You’re already so sensitive,” he mutters, kissing you now, more deliberately. “This’ll take a while. Let me work. I will get everything I need from you soon enough.”

His tongue moves in slow, studied patterns. Up. Down. Spiral. Pause. A flick. A suck. He’s collecting data—what makes you twitch, what makes you sigh, what makes you gasp and grab at the table’s edges. Every time you make a sound, he shifts technique slightly. Filing it away. Adjusting. Repeating.

He doesn’t speak much. When he does, it’s all under his breath—clinical, praising, a little condescending, always devoted.

“There you go. That’s it.”

“More of that, Yes?”

“Don’t hold your breath so much. Let it happen.”

When you finally whimper out a guttural, cracked open sound, he looks up. His lips and chin glisten as he simply says, “Good. That’s one.”

As if you’re just getting started. (Because you are.) He doesn’t let up. Not even close.

He pushes in slow, deliberate. Controlled. Like he’s watching a monitor for vitals, measuring every reaction, every tremor in your body.

You gasp, nails curling against the padded table. He groans softly—a man adjusting to pressure, to heat, to you.

“God,” you whisper, already clenching. “I needed this. I—fuck, Zayne, I needed this so bad—”

“I can tell,” he murmurs, calm as ever, even as his hips settle flush against yours. “Should’ve said something sooner.”

You moan, full of frustration and want and something dangerously close to tears.

“I couldn’t. I didn’t wanna be—” You break off, panting. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”

He stills inside you. Eyes sharp. Lips parted. And then he exhales—long and quiet, like he’s biting back some deeper emotion. Maybe regret. Maybe guilt.

“You’re not a bother,” he says, low. “You never are.”

His hips roll just slightly, testing, coaxing, sending heat racing up your spine.

“If anything...” His hand slides up your side, over your ribs, soothing, grounding. “I should’ve made time for this earlier. This…” he thrusts a little deeper, “...this seems like an urgent need.”

You whimper under him. “Zayne, I—fuck, I want—”

“What do you want?”

Your face burns. Your voice shakes. But you can’t keep it in anymore.

“I want you… you to breed me... please.”

The silence after is thick.

He’s still.

Something unravels in his expression then. It’s not just arousal—it’s longing. A wish he hadn’t let himself form until you gave it voice, like he almost wants your regret. But he nods, like that need—raw, hormonal, messy—isn’t foreign to him. Like it’s the same one clawing up his own spine.

Then, slowly—gently—he fucks into you harder. Once. Twice.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “That’s what this is about...”

You’re babbling now, eyes glassy, breath hitching.

“I—I want it. I want to feel full, I want you to come inside, I want to know it’s yours—even if it’s stupid, even if it’s just my body wanting—I don’t care, I need it, please—”

Zayne brushes a hand over your cheek, thumb catching your tears before they can fall.

“It’s not stupid.”

His voice is calm. Assured. Loving in a way that makes your chest ache.

“You’re ovulating. Your hormones are spiking. Your body’s wired for this. And you’re safe with me.”

He leans over you, mouth brushing your ear.

“Anything you ever need,” he murmurs, voice rough now, strained with emotion and restraint, “you can ask me for it. Anything.”

He pulls almost all the way out, then pushes in deep—slow, worshipping.

“Especially this.”

You cry out for him again, voice cracking, and he just keeps moving, steady and full, fucking you like it’s a promise. His body warm, his voice steady, his heart loud in your ear.

“You feel so good… you wanna be bred, my love?” he whispers. “I’ll give you everything. Fill you up so deep your body won’t know anything else but mine. I like being the only one… who can fix this… problem for you.”

That's spins you undone, and when you come again—hard, sobbing his name, clenching around him like your body’s trying to keep him inside—he follows: gasping once, then going silent as he spills into you, deep and long, trembling.

Helping.

Fixing the problem.

He stays inside you for a while. Long enough that the tremble in your thighs evens out, that the ache in your belly softens from frantic to full. His hand is on your hip, steady, his breath slowing against your neck. You feel him soften inside you, but he doesn’t move to pull out, he just wraps his hand around your thigh, thumb tracing light circles. It’s as if he is still measuring your pulse through your skin.

You’re dazed. Fucked open and flushed and barely remembering where you are. He presses a kiss just below your ear. Quiet and close.

“Still with me?” he murmurs, one hand stroking your thigh like he’s grounding both of you. “Let me know if you’re dizzy. I got you.”

You nod, finally feeling like you can think with more than that warm beat between your thighs.

“…Fixed it,” he murmurs after a moment.

You let out a small, breathless laugh. “That was your treatment plan?”

“Highly effective,” he says, deadpan. “Minimal side effects. Patient satisfaction… presumed high.”

You hum and blink up at him, lips still parted. He’s looking at you, really looking, and not in the way doctors are trained to. There’s nothing detached about it now.

Then, with that surgeon’s steadiness, he pulls out slowly—so careful it makes you ache all over again—and reaches for the drawer on the wall behind you. Pulls out a warm towel like this is just another cleanup post-op.

You twitch when he touches you. Sensitive. Spent. He murmurs a soft apology, even as his hands stay precise, wiping you clean with unhurried tenderness.

“You didn’t have to do all that,” you whisper.

He glances at you. “You didn’t ask. So I had to improvise.”

You smile faintly. “You’re not mad I didn’t say anything?”

He tosses the towel aside. “I’m not mad.”

Then, more softly:

“However…I just wish you trusted me to help you. Even with this. Especially with this.”

His hand brushes your thigh again, this time more to comfort than assess. “You never have to handle it alone.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly thick.

“I didn’t know how,” you say.

“I’ll teach you,” Zayne murmurs. “Next time, say what you need. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you. Maybe not of everything but… what I can.”

You nod, quiet.

Then he leans in again, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. A prescription written into the touch of your skin.

And beneath it all, his voice—calm, knowing, clinical as ever:

“This appointment is incomplete, but before I continue, let's plan? Follow-up appointment… same time next cycle?”

He’s hardening again, the heat of him pressing against you, but his lips stay impossibly soft where they meet your skin. His fingers glide over you with such careful tenderness it almost aches, like he’s afraid to break something fragile inside you. His breath stutters in his throat, and when he finally looks up at you, his eyes are full of something quiet, something desperate.

“What do you want?” he asks, voice low and steady, his fingers curling around yours as if to anchor your body to him.

You swallow, heart pounding in your chest, the moment making your voice shaky. “Please… don’t stop. Not yet. Let me have this—let me have you—while you’re here, before you go back to work... before the surgeries take you away again.”

He nods slowly, swallowing hard, as if hearing that pulls something out of him. You’re full of his cum, in his office, and yet still... you want more.

“I want to care for you,” he says softly, almost like a prayer. “Let me take care of you—let me make you feel okay…”

Your breath catches, your eyes stinging. There's something in his voice—something soft, like you're worshipped. It undoes you. You nod, too overcome to speak, and he leans in to kiss you again, slower this time. A worshipful kind of kiss, one that tells you that he means it. All of it.

His hand slides between your legs, gentle, deliberate. He murmurs something you don’t catch against your cheek, and then his fingers are inside you—slow, coaxing, curling just right—and the stretch pulls a gasp from your throat.

“You’re still so wet,” he whispers, half in awe. “Still so full of my seed… and you want more?”

You whimper, your head tipping back against the couch. The way he touches you now feels different—like it’s not just about pleasure anymore, but about memory. Preservation.

“I don’t wanna forget how you feel,” he says, thumb brushing over your clit in slow, hypnotic circles. Your hips twitch under his hand, overwhelmed by the desire he builds in you. It's all too much—his voice, his touch, the heat of his body wrapped around yours—but you don’t want him to stop. God, you never want him to stop.

“I won’t let you,” you breathe. “I’ll remember for both of us.”

His mouth is on you again, but not your lips this time—his head drops lower, kissing a trail down your sternum, your stomach, until he’s kneeling between your legs.

“I want to taste you,” he says, voice rough with need. “Let me show you how good you are. How much I want you…You're doing me a favor really…”

He slips his fingers deeper, slow, deliberate, curling gently as he watches your breath hitch. You’re trembling under his touch, the way you’re spread out like a secret made just for him. His mouth moves close, breath hot against your skin.

“You’re the softest, sweetest flower,” he murmurs, voice low and thick with something between awe and need. “And I’m the luckiest man, right here, right now.”

His fingers flex inside you, teasing the spots that make you catch your breath and squeeze your thighs tight. Even after he’s already filled you once, the way he strokes and presses—there’s no doubt his desire is just as alive as yours, hungry and aching. He’s hard beneath you, the heat pressing close as he lets you feel it, a teasing promise of everything he wants.

“I told you it was for me,” he breathes, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “But really... this? It’s for both of us.” His hips shift, grinding slowly against you, the movement sending a new wave of fire through your body.

He leans down, mouth tracing a slow, burning path from your collarbone to your shoulder, lips parting just to whisper, “You make me need you. God, you make me need you so bad.”

His hands tighten around your hips as he pulls you just a little closer, filling the space between you with a quiet, fierce hunger. His fingers don’t stop, circling, curling, coaxing your body to respond again and again.

“Keep still for me,” he commands softly, voice rough like he’s holding back something fierce. “You’re mine right now. Every sigh, every shiver... it’s mine to take… I will be… your medicine…”

You’re gasping by the time he lowers his head again, mouth capturing yours in a deep, consuming kiss, and the taste of him—wanting, claiming—makes you lose the last grip you had on control.

His body is all fire and weight pressing down on you, filling the spaces inside you you didn’t even know were empty until now.

“More,” he whispers between kisses. “Always more.”

And you’re his, completely. The ache inside you answered at last.

His rhythm builds, fingers still buried deep while his other hand cradles your face—thumb brushing slow circles across your cheek, grounding you in the chaos he’s coaxing from your body. Every stroke inside you is purposeful, practiced, but full of reverence, like he’s trying to memorize you from the inside out.

“Look at me,” he says, not quite a whisper, not quite a command. Just enough to send heat licking down your spine. “I want to see you when you come undone.”

And you do—eyes wide and glassy, lashes fluttering as your breath stutters. The sight of you like this makes him groan, low and hoarse, hips jerking just slightly, betraying how close he is to the edge too, even though he hasn’t taken you fully again yet.

His fingers still, just enough to make you whimper. He presses a kiss to your jaw, then your mouth, as if that could quiet the ache.

“I could live here,” he murmurs into your lips. “Right here, inside you, around you... forever.”

Then he shifts, slow and careful, pulling his fingers free with a wet sound that makes your whole body tighten. He holds your gaze as he brings those same fingers to his mouth, tongue curling around them with a filthy sort of tenderness, eyes half-lidded, like tasting you is sacred.

“You, my dear, officially drive me undeniably insane,” he says, voice wrecked with want. “And I don’t wanna be sane again. Not so soon...”

When he finally sinks into you, it’s with a desperate groan that breaks right through you—thick and deep, every inch stretching you open like a promise. The burn is beautiful, the pressure perfect, and your body arches to meet him like it was made to.

He doesn’t rush. He moves—slow, rolling thrusts that keep you trembling, pinned under him and worshiped at once. His forehead presses to yours, sweat-slick and trembling, and for a moment he just stays there—buried inside you, eyes fluttering shut as your pulse thrums between you.

“You feel like heaven,” he breathes, and then again, “Mine.” Like he needs you to hear it more than once.

And when he starts to move in earnest, it’s with the kind of slow devastation that leaves nothing untouched. Every stroke drags a sound from your throat, every grind of his hips makes your legs shake. He’s whispering again, praise and filth mixing on his tongue:

“So tight for me. So fucking good, after this you'll learn to ask, okay? I could stay like this all night. Just you. Just us. I'll spend every break just like this, or with a mind filled with it.”

And maybe that’s exactly what you want too—him, again and again, until the world fades and all that’s left is the rhythm of his body in yours and the fire he keeps stoking, endless and aching.

He moves again, deeper this time, more sure. Not fast—not yet. But he rocks into you with the patience of a man obsessed with detail, addicted to the small shifts of your body around him, attuned to every gasp and flutter.

Your eyes roll back as you clench down, and he groans—sharp and breathless, the only crack in his otherwise impenetrable restraint.

“Fuck—tight,” he mutters, head bowing slightly. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me feel it. That’s what I need.”

There’s nothing clinical in his voice now. It’s reverent. Hungry.

His hands are everywhere—on your hip, your thigh, pressed over your chest like he wants to memorize the stutter of your heart. You’ve never seen him like this—undone and focused, devoted. Not just having sex with you, but learning you, like you’re anatomy he wants to master, muscle and nerve and heat.

Your orgasm builds again—second? third? You’ve lost count—rising fast like a tidal wave you can’t hold back.

Zayne notices. Of course he does.

“You’re close.” It’s not a question. “Let it happen. You’re safe. You’re good. You’re mine to take care of.”

That breaks you.

You cry out, raw and sharp, body arching under him as you fall apart with a helpless sob. He takes all of it—every pulse and tremor—and doesn’t stop moving, like your pleasure is the only thing keeping him alive.

He presses his forehead to yours as you shake, still holding you, still inside.

You barely have breath to whisper it: “You really needed this?”

He laughs softly—warm, breathless, wrecked. “No... yes but,” he kisses your knuckles as he admits. “But you did.”

He kisses you—slow, deep, filled with a sweetness that makes your chest ache.

Then he adds, quiet and unshakable: “But I wanted to be the one who gave it to you.”

You blink up at him, throat tight.

“Was that... alright with you?” he asks softly. “Dr’s orders... and all.”

You smile, dazed. “Might need a follow-up appointment.”

His smirk—barely there, tired, pleased—makes your heart flutter.

“I’ll clear my schedule.” ⋆⁺₊❅。

MASTERLIST WITH ALL MY FICS

🐇my bunnies: ((comment or reblog with a 🐇 emoji to get added to the taglist for everything I write)): @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple

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[karikitdemonrp]

Kari sniffled, looking into her papa's eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks as she just sniffled and listened. She looked down for a moment, processing what the hero said and gave a nod while her eyes narrowed a bit in thought. "I... Think I get it." She muttered, voice still slightly trembling as she spoke. She looked back at the projection and sighed. The child slowly backed away from Hawks and went back to look at the journals again, one last time.

There she read a few more journals from her mother. A few from when she was pregnant with her siblings.

"Today is September 29th, I gave birth to my little boy Kitearo a few days ago. It's been exhausting but he's worth it. Lynx has been a huge help in taking care of our son. I looked into Kite's future and I saw he was going to have a lot of siblings. Not my first choice honestly. If you asked me five years ago I would have said two or three kids would be enough, not seven. But it feels right at the same time. While I saw his whole life unravel I couldn't help but feel helpless... But a part of me knows it can't be messed with, even though I want to save my son from an early grave. I'll have to wait until all my kids are born to get the full picture."

Kari frowned, figuring out pretty quick that her mother knew the whole time, or at least had an understanding.

"It's Febuary 23rd. Flo and Fino are a few days old now. I got a bit more of the picture since seeing Kitearo's future. They meet a similar fate. It hurts, but seeing them work hard to protect their youngest sister, a little girl with white hair, something isn't adding up. I know I can't stop it but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt a whole lot."

"It's been a rough few weeks, Shade has been a bit of a handful. Always curious but always quiet which is a bit unnerving. Sure she cries and makes noises but she's more quiet than not. The doctor says she has nothing wrong with her but I still worry. I was able to see into her future. Lynx has his work cut out for him that's for sure. So far I know all my kids and my husband die on the same day, doing the same thing. I can't say for sure where I am but I can make a few guesses. Again that little girl with white hair makes a big appearance. I'll name her Kari. Kari Kana Lee Himura, long name but it looks like it suits her. When she's born I'll hopefully get all the answers and try to write them down."

"Another pair of twins. I'm not super surprised, Lynx had twin younger brothers after all so I think that runs in the family. That and I saw them while looking into their siblings' futures. These two look mirrored, it's kinda cute. I've named them Boom and Beats cuz the symbols on their cheeks are cute music notes. They are the loudest that's for sure, it's funny. I've had so many kids and all of them are so different even though they're under the same roof and have me and Lynx as their parents. I know why they look so different and why their quirks are different, it's a side effect of my quirk after all. But their behaviors and personalities aren't tied to it, I don't think. It's so fascinating to watch them grow and develop... I know I probably only have a few more years to live. I've concluded I die in child birth when giving birth to Kari. I know I'll be leaving behind my family and my friends... But I noted that my nephew is the one responsible for the deaths of everyone, under the control of my sister given his pupils... Something isn't adding up but I'm guessing Kari develops my quirk. If that's the case then she needs to exist. It strengthens our quirk and hopefully she'll be able to help others like I did, in someway. Though that's her choice and I don't want to force it onto her. I'm glad dad talked me into writing that one entry about my quirk, I hope she can read it one day so she can meet me... Well, a snap shot of me. It won't be the same I know but it's better than nothing. I just hope she doesn't hate me or get mad. It's kind of a selfish reason but there's so much going on... I just hope she understands."

Kari sniffled, rubbing her eyes. "I... I don't hate you mom." She whispered after a few moments of silence, hugging herself. "I just wish I knew you." The child gulped and moved to look back at the journal about All of the Above and began taking notes. "But yea, I'm glad grampa talked you into writing about your quirk too... It's gonna help me a lot." She muttered then looked at Hawks. "You think we can go somewhere I can train? I... I wanna try doing this thing mom talks about. I'm not sure if I can get back into that weird mind space thing but... But if I can maybe you can meet my siblings, well a snap shot of them... This is kinda confusing." Kari puffed out her cheeks then went back to writing. "But we don't have to do it today if we can't."

Hawks didn’t speak at first. He just let Kari cry. He didn’t try to hush her or pull her away. He dropped down to one knee so she could lean into him easier, wrapping his arms around her small frame like he could shield her from every painful word she had just read. His wings even curled in slightly, a quiet gesture of shelter.

He held her gently as the sobs came out in waves—her pain wasn’t small, and it didn’t deserve to be treated like it was.

After a long moment, his voice finally came—soft, steady, low enough it didn’t try to overpower her crying but just… sat with it.

“I know, kiddo. I know it hurts. It’s not fair. None of this is. You didn’t get a choice in any of it.”

He tightened the hug slightly, one hand cradling the back of her head.

“But I need you to hear me when I say this next part, okay?” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own golden ones steady and full of something more than just compassion—it was conviction. “She didn’t die because of you. That’s not how this works. She died for you. And that’s something only someone who loves their kid more than anything in the world would do.”

His thumbs gently wiped her tears.

“Your mom knew the risks. She was a top pro. She wasn’t someone who walked into things blind. She fought to bring you into this world anyway, Kari. That means she wanted you here. She made a choice—and that choice was you.”

[freesoul-07-blog]

Pick a Pac: Tarot 💗

Hi lovelies! This was originally suppose to be a four pile reading. However, the cards I got for the final pile lowkey gave vibe of 2nd pile of the last pac I did.

And honestly, I didn't feel like interpreting the cards again. Maybe the the collective needs to hear new messages for a change? 🙆‍♀️ If not, your crush just want us to leave them alone lol. And I respect that.

Your crush's current feelings for you 👀💥💦

How do you choose your pile? Take a deep breathe and meditate on these images. And whichever picture draws your attention the most is your pile. Tho feel free to pick more than one pile, it may have additional messages.

Pile One

Hi everyone, so right now I feel your person is working hard. They are likely focused on making money, learning new skills, & pretty much anything that would help them grow and succeed. Page generally represent new energy / early stages ... so i won't be surprise if they recently started working. Or planning on building a business. Or even trying to ground themself in reality. However, I'm also seeing a little backward energy with image of the card, as in, they are moving ahead, but not completely over the past. So that was the second card i had pulled out, but it gives off very present energy to me forcing me to interpret it first. Now, looking at the first card, I'm definitely sensing some kind of missed opportunity that this person is thinking about. Maybe they were a little heartbroken with the bloodstains. I can see there are three cups that fell and there is a lot of blood spilling. It also gives me a little three of cups energy. Okay, so I'm getting a message here that your crush and you likely did not have a concrete connection. Maybe the feelings were not even expressed here? Whatever your situation is, this person is feeling the loss of this connection. A opportunity that never truly lifted off the ground.

As I said, they're working on something, building a career maybe, but something happened recently that tug a reunion string in their heart. Maybe they ran into you accidentally? Maybe you texted? Maybe someone mentioned you? Either way, that caught them thinking about the missed opportunity. Thinking about what was years back, or months back, or weeks back, take how it resonates. I'm also seeing that with the blood spilling out of the three of cups, I'm seeing it's just fresh, somewhere they did not expect for them to still feel this way. Whatever the feelings are, I guess it resurfaced, and then they realized that, okay, maybe I still feel something, yeah, again, it also giving like a grass is greener on the other side energy, to an extent. What I'm feeling is, they are so caught up in this five of cups, three of cups energy, they're not seeing the two of cups behind them, like they think missed opportunity, they're thinking about their own resurfacing feelings and maybe like crushing on you again, that they're not noticing that maybe this connection is mutual, maybe you also feel this way, maybe you are also experiencing the same emotions.

I think this pile is mine, because tell me why am I channeling the messages that is resonating so much, okay. With the presence of three of swords here, I'm seeing this situation was likely painful for them at first. Maybe when they first liked you, when they first had feelings for you, before this reunion, it was strong & intense. I feel they were really hurt by something.

Maybe they had communicated about it for some of you.

I'm getting right now they are in a place that they are probably thinking about the pain as well, what they had experienced. They are in their mind thinking about how the situation could also go wrong, you know, like if they were to take a step towards you, if they want to, if they are considering that, then it might turn into something really heartbroken for them. And there is potential of despair for them. Regardless, with the communication energy here, they might be thinking about approaching you. There is a lot of thinking here. They're considering their emotions, they're considering their pain, they're considering the potential pain that possibly come if they try to rekindle something or if they try to initiate something. That's what I'm getting.

Another scenario I am getting is maybe they are in a relationship or situation that is no longer serving them. Maybe an ex, maybe a complicated relationship, family, anything that they are struggling with. Maybe they are in a process of letting go. Trying to heal and self reflect. It could be related to you, but it could be related to something else as well. I was going to stop the reading here, but I ended up pulling few more cards to understand what is going on. And those cards did not want to come out, so I feel like they are in a very guarded energy. So let's see what is trying to come now.I am getting that they are thinking about some kind of new beginning with you. They are feeling it, that they are feeling some kind of spark when it comes to you.

And I always associate this card with Universe giving you an opportunity, a new beginning. So I feel that this is fated to an extent for some of you. I feel Universe has some play in it, you know. Season is changing. And I feel this specific connection is probably there for both of you to step up into your better self.

I am getting that maybe some of you are not paying attention to yourself and rotting in bed and just neglecting yourself or your health or general aspects of life. And maybe this connection, oh wait, I'm probably channeling this person's energy as well. So take it however it resonates. For some of you, your crush is likely not doing well. Not paying too much attention to them. Having a bit of a glow down. And maybe this is Universe's way of, you know, pushing them to have their game up, to pay attention to themselves, trying to impress you so that, you know, this connection grows into something more. That's what I'm getting. This is definitely some kind of divine intervention. And the reason I feel this way again is because even I was feeling this way. I'm like, I was very much in my single era, not caring, you know it's been so many months since I last went on a date or had feelings for someone. So I was such in a chill space and suddenly I ran into this person and we had a little K-drama moment and I'm just like, bro, I'm not even feeling my best right now. And suddenly I feel like that Demi Lovato song: But you ... make me wanna act like a girl. Paint my nails and wear high heels. I don't remember, I think Heart Attack is the song's name, so it might be relevant to some of you.

But I feel right now is a moment that it's kind of a shift in your crush's personality, maybe for you as well, where both of you are urged to take care of yourself and be best. And yeah, be attractive, bro, you're attractive. Step into that energy. I'm also getting that one or both of you are not in a place to be in a relationship or start any kind of situation. I saw a meme early in the morning that when I'm enjoying my single era and suddenly I start liking someone. Bro, what the fuck? I don't want to like you. Something like that. And I feel maybe it's one of those energies. One or both of you are feeling that it's a very unrequited situation. That person may think that you don't like them. They also look at your situation with a very watery energy. Maybe they are a water sign, pisces specifically. I feel it's very pure, but at the same time kind of unrealistic. You guys might be similar, you know.

For some of you, you both might have similar traits, similar feelings I'm getting, because this person kind of looks at you in a way that, also maybe you're like smaller than this person and they like that thing about you. I'm seeing this person with a soft smile looking at you and they feel like you are this one true love. But one true love is like a very intense emotion, right? And since this card was in a reverse, I feel they do have this one true love feelings for you but keep it hidden. I also feel for some of you, this is a very back and forth energy, may have been happening for years on end, maybe 10 years, maybe 5 years, take how it resonates, but I feel after all this time, this person looks at you in a very like a soft way. And, matter fact, the Ed Sheeran is also coming through. Like, we were just kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was. Like, maybe this person likes you, or liked you, without knowing why. You know, it's just like how magnets are? They are just drawn towards each other. And I'm not getting opposite energy, I'm getting very similar vibes from both of you. You guys are likely similar to each other, but the way they look at you is very original, you know?

For example, you know how Ariana Grande has so many clones? So, I feel like they look at you as this OG thing, and kind of morphing into you. Like, there is similarity between you both, but at the same time, they are kind of taking on your traits without realising or deliberately for some of you. #1 fan award goes to 🫠🫶

However, irrespective of these feelings, it's very internal.

They're not doing anything about it. They want to. I can feel it. But at the same time, they're not able to understand why they are so drawn to you.I'm also feeling that they might not be in a best emotional state. They might have mood swings. Yeah, a little emotional regulation is out of place here. I also feel like they look at you in a very high light, bro. Like you are this star person (as I mentioned already) and when it comes to you their emotions just runs high and they can't stop thinking. Like they just feel a lot when it comes to you. You quite literally are a celebrity in their eyes maybe. Yeah, and I feel there is some kind of past connection or some kind of forbiddenness to you. Like there is just yearning and yearning and yearning but nothing keeps happening. Nothing happens here.

I'm also sensing they see hope with you oh my god another song is coming through i don't know if you guys know clinton kane but there is a song called i think I'm in love and this specific line i heard "but with you i see hope again" ... i feel they feel that about you oh my gosh this is such a beautiful energy i'm dying. I'm also sensing that they are probably in a healing phase right now. They are experiencing a sense of composure, calmness. Maybe with the Fool card in reverse earlier, I feel they are coming out of it. They're recognizing their traits that are not really serving them. Again, there was some other card that spoke about the same thing. They're realizing the things that cause them pain, things about the relationship that is not good for them. And they're coming like, wow, maybe this is my wish fulfillment.

Maybe this is the reward for all the work I have done so far.They have this internal knowing about you. You know, they just feel drawn to you and they just feel this kind of connection, spiritual even, with you. Deep down they just feel very hopeful with you. And they feel like maybe there is a chance this time. "And darling, this is more than anything I've felt before you're everything." You should listen to that Clinton Kane's song, it's very beautiful. It kind of ties to Perfect by Ed Sheeran also. Similar message I'm getting actually.Yeah, I also feel that they feels nervous around you, but kind of playing it cool at the same time.Your crush likely feels that you're very mysterious. They look at you as their other half. You know, they just feel like you guys fit. They just feel like you guys are... kind of meant to be. In some way or another. They just have this deep feeling about it. Even if it does not work... or it's not working out... or it did not work out. I'm seeing this fruit, pomegranate. I don't know what it means. But I guess it means sweet. It means very... Fruity.

I'm not getting sexual vibes necessarily. But it might resonate with some of you so feel free to take it. They also intuitively feel that there is more you than what's visible. They definitely see you as very spiritual. Very wise. Very intellectual. So at this moment, they are just like waiting and trying to figure out what to do about this situation. They might make subtle moves without making it too obvious. They might create opportunities for you two to run into each other. I feel like there would be subtle moves from this person. Maybe they would message you. Or maybe they would say something on their Instagram, if you guys are connected on social media. There would be some kind of subtle way of showing their feelings.

With this moon energy, they also think that you're very secretive, like they don't understand what you feel, what you think. However, when it comes to intuition, they most certainly pick up some cues about you. I don't know, Vernon from 17 pop up into my mind, so maybe your person's personality is like him. They could be very logical, very practical, I know Vernon is T, so maybe your, crush has very logical, practical side to them. Now, I'm also seeing that this person thinks that you have been through some things. They can look at you somewhere they feel like you have experienced things that have really blindsided you, that really cut you in pieces that you don't talk about, that have had you distancing yourself from people, possibly not taking care of yourself.

Maybe they feel that you are trapped in some way. If that does not resonate, then I feel it's just, there is some kind of trapped, unsure, uncertain energy here that this person feels. Maybe they are going through something in their life that makes them feel this way, but since we are doing a reading in context to how they feel about you, I feel maybe they look at you in this way, to an extent. In respect of these feelings, I feel they crave some kind of security in relationship. So, if you guys want to come together, they might experience some possessiveness, a sense of wanting control over what you are doing, what you are feeling. So, there is a warning here. Another thing I am getting is, I have heard this thing also. You should not date people who has a history of liking you.

For example, if someone has liked you for a while, when you start dating them, they are actually dating you with this image of you in their mind that they like. So, when you don't play the part as how they have imagined you, they might not like it. They might not know how to deal with it. I don't know if this makes sense, but I do feel it's important to date people who like you for who you are and not what they think you are. I feel right now their foundation of how they perceive you is very... past Sense. It keeps giving very this thing did not work out way, lost opportunity, reluctance to getting into something, not mutual, etc. You know it's very one-sided energy and that makes them try to control the narrative in a way. If this is not about control then maybe they think that you're focused on your work, your materialism, your structure. However that resonates with you.

So that's it for your pile. I hope you liked it. Comment down below if it resonated. Your comments really help.

Pile Two

Your crush sees you as someone with a tough exterior. I know the man is holding a globe but it looked like a coconut to me. Maybe at one point you were his whole world too and now you're just ... you. Someone they used to know. Someone they still still hold a space for deep inside them. I also thought of "you used to have a face like a magazine, now you look like anyone" ~ change of heart by 1975

There’s something about you that feels heavy. Maybe you’ve been through a lot? Maybe they know parts of your past, or maybe it’s just the vibe you carry... but regardless, it makes them stop and think if they’re even ready to walk this path with you. (As I am channeling this message I keep thing about my ex love. The person I was hopelessly in love with & experienced immense pain with. So I do feel, this could be twin flame connection too)

For some, you both could’ve had an ending already & currently not on speaking terms. However, even if it wasn’t something between you two directly, there’s this “dark night of the soul” kind of energy hanging in the air. And if I am being honest, they don’t feel super elated when it comes to you. And it’s not because you aren’t special, it’s just... heavy. They might look at you as someone who struggles with self-worth. Like you’ve been feeling lost lately, unsure what direction to go in. And maybe, in that haze, you did something impulsive and that’s part of why things are the way they are now. If not you, then them. They might be in that confused space themselves. Not knowing how to come forward. Not knowing if they even can.

Before I even pulled the cards, I felt freaky energy around this pile. So for some of you, this was a physical thing. A very hot, very strong attraction that fizzled or never fully bloomed. Could be karmic. Could be one of those soulmates who come in just to mess everything up so you learn how to choose yourself. And the crazy part? They might feel that way too. Like you’re here to trigger something in them. That’s why this connection feels so mirrored.

Right now, from where their feelings are for you, everything’s stagnant. And they kind of want to keep it that way. Not because they don’t care, but because they’re not ready to open up emotionally. They do look at you as someone who challenges the norm. Maybe you did something that shocked them. Maybe you stood up for something. Maybe you’re queer. Maybe you live in a way that’s loud and honest and unapologetic. Whatever it is, it made them stop and look. Lowkey, they’re impressed.

Even if they act like they’re not.

You’ve got that “I do what I want, my life my rules, you only live once” kind of vibe and it fascinate(d) them. You might’ve even torn their mask off, seen parts of them that no one else gets to see. I don’t think they were ready for that. Also, since the start of this pile, there’s been this hip-thrusting melody stuck in my head. And I’ve been trying so hard to remember the lyrics but all I see is blurry dance moves with guy. So I feel like... this was very sexual for them. Especially in the beginning. And they’ve tried to suppress it. Maybe it was an entanglement, a one-time thing. But it wasn’t forgettable. It meant something. Even if they pretended it didn’t.

For some of you, this person might’ve been a player. But you? You didn’t feel like just another body. You cracked them open. You shook something loose. You made them rethink things. Cowboy Like Me by Taylor Swift could be relevant here. Pile 2... I don’t know. The energy in this reading felt short. Rushed. Like your person didn’t want to sit in these emotions. Like they wanted to get it over with.

So, I'll end your reading now. Let me know in the comments if it resonated. See you in the next one.

Edit: Okay, so I had completed your reading this evening but woke up in the middle of the night with a jolt of panic. I saw someone. & immediately I started thinking about your pile throughout the time I was half awake. I feel your person is still haunted by your memory. In the waking life, they got nothing much to say but subconsciously they are kinda scared of you & possibly what they feel for you. I can hear hanbin's verse from into the i-land. Another song that's coming through is parents by yungblud. This genuinely giving LGBT connection for some of you. When I turned on my phone to channel this message, I had to put my device on dnd cause they were too many messages. So I do feel they don't like facing the downloads that they get about you. I won't be surprise if you even appear in their dreams cause I was dreaming when I woke up. I don't remember anything about it tho. This is actually a theme of your reading... not remembering shit. Whatever went down between you two, your crush really got you buried deeper in their subconscious & hate reminiscing about you in physical world.

Edit 2: Okay. I finally found the forgotten song. The line that has been stuck in my mind was "pool full of liquor & you're dive in it" ... & as I had got the energy from this reading, this song is about get drunk , smashing, and if I'm being honest I thought of peak Justin Bieber. Whoever your crush is, on surface they are living their life, hitting clubs, meeting important people, smashing it... but lowkey I'm getting a violating energy. Maybe to an extent it's happening consensually & in fun way but there is a dark twist to it as well. Maybe they are spiraling and indulging into anything and everything that would keep them floating on surface. It could be your energy as well, so please take how it resonates. (Song: po up drank Lloyd)

You may resonate with the original track as well:

I double checked into the i-land and the verse I heard was "chingu ya nanun da" & turns out Hanbin's line was actually "you're another me, I'm another you" & that really confirms the mirroring energy of this reading so far. There's also repeating message of "let's run for our life" & honestly, I am genuinely concerned about you my pile two.

Idk if it's relevant to you but when I went back to sleep again, I woke up with a dream again.

Me and this specific person were at a closed room gathering where the organisers were sharing some knowledge, felt like they were teaching some practice. The person I was familiar with had some injury and had to walk with those support sticks. Now, long story short, the organisers that beating the people there ... me, this person & few more were not touched cause we didn't disobey them, but remaining folks got beaten to a point, one of them peed their pants and almost fainted. They asked us to leave, so I left thinking this person would follow me. I forgot about his injury and waited downstairs. After 5-7 mins I went back up to check why he is not coming and then I properly saw he is not able to walk, his leg is injured. Now, the bad guy came out of nowhere and asked us, why are you still here so started making excuses but something shifts as he starts behaving creepy with me. Now, suddenly I have no memory of the injured guy. All I thought in this moment, we have to escape, but he cannot run, but again, the guy is not really near me. Escaping felt next to impossible because the area is their and we can get found in snap of the fingers. So, I was just thinking of the plan. Again blur after that, and suddenly I am on road, with creepy people in car where I thought I'll get help. I passed it and sought help somewhere.

End of the dream.

I am getting very sticky, very dark energy from this pile. I tried to provide as much information I could. Maybe the dream will resonate with some of you. Please take care 🤍 Let me know, if it resonated. I'll possibly to another reading for your specific pile to gain more information if you want.

Pile Three

Right of the bat, I feel your person admires your strength. Do you have anger issues by any chance??? Maybe your crush has been this soft/ nurturing presence in your life who has seen you crashing. Lashing out. And gently hold you through the episode. You have very fiery energy to you (could be a leo) & your person is either a water sign or taurus/ libra placements. Very gentle & intuitive energy I am getting from your person. They do have mother like feelings for you. Naturally protective. They may have witness you having some kinda transformation & maybe you're in a process of breaking some cycle. Maybe a loop that you cannot / couldn't seem to get out of. They look at you with someone who has too much going on. Too many people tugging at your energy. Maybe you're fighting with multiple people all at once. You could be in a bad unfulfilling situation that this person is able to see.

The energy I am getting is "Fighting in only your army. Frontlines, don't you ignore me. I'm the best thing at this part. (You're losin' me by Taylor)" ...I really feel you're experiencing a fall put of a relationship. Could be platonic, could be career wise. Something that got you crumbling and this person has very outsider energy as they are witnessing it. It also giving "And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides" ~ long story short Taylor Swift

& strangely enough the line before this was "Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep" & it's 2.45 am as I doing this reading. I had woken up scared. So maybe for some of you, pile two would resonate with as well. They also see you as someone who super grounded & stable as far as your finances are concerned. But somehow the image on the card is giving lonely energy. So, I don't think they can see through how despite the composure, despite someone who comes across with immense self trust, rooted in practicality & knows how make / sustain abundance ... you are deep down defeated. Like you literally won a battle but at what cost??? It's reminding me of that Taylor's speech where she won too many awards during 1989 era yet at the end of the day she had no one to share that happiness with. On paper you have everything, but you still feel hollow. You are likely burned out too.

Your person can see you as someone who is facing challenges but refusing to learn from the past patterns. You're too stubborn right now. Maybe what you have experienced has made you skeptical of things and you no longer want to rely on anyone. Maybe you lost people, maybe someone closer to you unalive themself too. I see that you have this alternate scenario in your mind where you often think about this person where there is no pain. No pushbacks. Just laughter. Maybe you have experienced people who would enter and leave your life as they please and it got your heart blocked. You no longer want to love anyone. It's giving eight by iu ft suga. Your person wants you to come out of that energy and focus on what's still here. Maybe them? They want you to assess the way you're living life. You seek help (cause they want to help you). They want you to celebrate small moments of victories. And push through the challenges. You're one survivor pile 3. I am so proud of you. Your person can definitely see that your burden by your past that you're letting go of the toxic mindset.

For some of you, you could be traveling to take a break as well. You may have a lot on your mind, & this person wants nothing more than to unload your burden. They want to tend to your injured adult self and pamper your inner child. They want to take you away from all this pain, just like the man on the boat taking the woman & child away. Maybe it's a long journey. But your person wants you to drop the sword now. They want you to stop fighting all alone on battlefield. They are here now. Let them take care of things. They are manifesting a new beginning with you. They want you to stop hesitating & embrace what you have right now. Live in the moment with them, will you? Angel baby is significant here as well ... except you're Troye Siwan.

Having said that, they are acknowledging that you're not in the best emotional situation right now. Your inner world is a mess and you're liking crashing big time, no wonder we started the pile with the same energy. They really want you to work on your emotional regulation. How can they help you if you don't wanna help yourself? So please step up into your authenticity & approach your situation with discernment. If you've been jumping to conclusions without any facts, then please change that. So that's it for your reading my pile three. If this pac resonated with you, please let me know in the comments below.

I am sending you so much love 💞💫 See you.

[justmymindandstuff]

all the miles in between get in your head- Garrick Tavis x Reader

summary: your boyfriend Garrick had to go to Basgiath, he had to leave you behind. One year without any contact. Your heart breaks a little more every day. Even your friends don't offer you any comfort. Until the moment the distance between Garrick and you is not so far anymore.

words: 4.233

titel: Hollywood Hills by Sunrise Awenue

warnings: angst, long-distance relationship, talk about cheating, talk about character death, thinking about cheating, Reader has kind of bad friends (OCs), kissing, fluff

requests are open / main-masterlist/ the empyrean- masterlist/ A03

You open your eyes and stare at your ceiling. Tears gather in your eyes as cold fear grip your entire body. Your nightmare haunts you. You try as best you can to banish the images of a blood-stained, dying Garrick from your mind as you breathe through your panic and blink away your tears.  

You hate these nightmares, but nothing helps. They keep coming back. At night, your imagination paints your worst fears in vivid colors.

The fear slowly leaves your body, retreating until it only wraps itself around your heart. You know it won't get better than this. These feelings, fear and longing never completely go away. They accompanied you since Garrick was forced to enter the Riders Quadrant. Forced to leave you behind. 

You crawl out of your bed, still tired. You pull back the curtains from your window. Outside, the sun shines down on you, reflecting off the soft blanket of snow. Annoyed by the beautiful sight, you turn away. It doesn't match your mood.

You miss Garrick. You miss your boyfriend every day.

You knew the year would be tough until you enter the Healer Quadrant and see each other again.

However you never thought it would be this hard.

You miss him so much. His voice, his laughter, his hugs, his kisses, his humor. Everything about him.

A year without contact, without letters. Your heart aches painfully at this thought, as it does every time.

Today is especially bad. Your nightmare is gnawing at you.

You would love to go back to bed, pull the covers over your head and cry. Wallow in self-pity, and only crawl out from under the warm sheets when it's time for you to head off to Basgiath. But of course, you can't do that. So you turn away from the window, not before glaring angrily at the sun as if it could do something about your bad mood.

Your first stop is the kitchen. You start making your tea. Your gaze goes to the kitchen table, thinking of the countless times you've sat there with Garrick. The death stare he gave his breakfast, Garrick has never been a morning person. The rider Quadrant gets up early. You wonder if Garrick got used to it? Longing tugs at your heart. 

Your mother comes into the kitchen, already dressed for the day and in a great mood. "Good morning," she greets, presses a kiss at the top of your head before she gently ruffles your hair.

"Morning." you don't even try to make your voice cheerful.

"Did you sleep badly?"

"I had a bad dream," you grumble. "About Garr."

Your mother sighs, and that familiar pitying look comes to her face. You hate it when she looks at you like that. She comes over to puts her arm around you. "He's probably fine. He's probably flying through the skies on his dragon." she tries to cheer you up. "Garrick is tough and he has trained for this."

Despite her doubts at the beginning about the marked one boy you introduced to her as your new boyfriend, she warmed up to Garrick over time. Showing genuine interest in him and his life. It's thanks to your mother that Garrick was allowed to come and go from your house as if the place belonged to him.

Tears burn in your eyes again. You blink them away quickly. You feel like you've already cried an entire ocean since he left. You're pathetic. Despite that, there is nothing you can do about the heaviness in your heart.

If only he could write you letters. Then you would know how he's doing. Have his fears come true and most people in the Quadrant want to kill him? Probably! It's not like he can hide who his parents were; the relic on his arm gives him away. Even if he could, Garrick would never hide who he is.

"I miss him so much."

Your mother kisses your forehead. "I know. But it's not forever. You'll see him again."

If he doesn't die first.

You quickly push these thoughts away. No, you can't and don't want to believe that Garrick is dead.

And what if he doesn't want to see you next year?

You sometimes hate your own thoughts. Nevertheless, your mood sinks a little further. Fear tugs at your heart. 

A year without contact is a long time. What if Garrick forgets that he loves you? What if he's already left you long ago?

The front door swings open, tearing you from your thoughts. The next moment your best friend Mara comes into the kitchen.

One look at you makes her cheerful smile slip. The next moment, determination takes over her expression. "No! We're not in a bad mood today. No more heartbreak! We're going to the Festival of Lights!"

You groan in annoyance. In your current mood, you don't have the nerves for the crowded market, loud people, and crowds. "I don't want to."

"No arguments. Hop, hop. Get dressed, the others are already waiting."

You have known Mara your whole life, and that's why you know that arguing with that look on her face is pointless. So you obey.

Obviously, you're too slow. When you get back downstairs Mara is already waiting at the door. "Come on, we have to pick up the others. And I bet Jace is still asleep."

You take your jacket and pull it over your, Garrick's, hoodie before following Mara outside.

She is right. Jace is really still asleep as you arrive. So is Terry. Only Ella is already waiting for you when you show up at her place. Considerably late.

Your mood doesn't improve despite the boys' constant stupid jokes, the new gossip from around town, and Jace's long story about his nephew's first attempts at horse riding.

You barely participate in the conversation. Just trudge along beside your friends while your thoughts jump back and forth between worrying about Garrick and the desire to finally see him again, to hug him, to kiss him.

Only when you hear your name do you look up from the path in front of you. "What?" you ask.

Ella looks at you confused. "What's wrong with you? Are you not feeling well?"

Mara answers for you before you even have a chance to take a breath. "She's just brooding over Garrick again. Broken heart and all."

"Still?" Terry interjects.

"Yeah, still!" you snarl angrily. Your friends have never been Garrick fans.

A marked one, a child of the rebels, his family is responsible for the deaths of so many loyal citizens. Blah blah! None of this is Garrick's fault. And your friends are just too blind to see his big heart, his compassion, his kindness.

They judge him even though they haven't even bothered to get to know him.

"And you think that will do any good?" you know Jace doesn't mean any harm. Still, you have to swallow down your anger.

"He's probably already forgotten about you," Terry interjects.

As if the mean voice in your head that keeps telling you that Garrick is done with you wasn't bad enough. No, now your friends are saying things like this too. 

"Well, my brother said he had never been fucking around again like he did in his first year the Rider Quadrant." Jace leans past Ella to look at you. Ella slaps him hard in the side for his stupid comment.

"You're so stupid," she whispers to him.

"Garrick isn't like that," you say firmly, ignoring the pitying looks from your friends. They think you are naive. A stupid girl who's been lied to and cheated on by Garrick.

"You once said he was acting strangely. Suspicious. You even thought he was cheating on you. Now he has it even easier. No need to sneak away anymore," says Mara.

You suppress an eye roll. That was ages ago. When you first noticed Garrick disappearing for a few days every now and then.

You're angry with yourself for telling Mara about your worries before talking to Garrick about it.

"I wish I could explain it properly, but I can't. You have to trust me. If it were safe for you, I'd tell you everything. Please trust me." And you trust him! He's not cheating on you!

"I told you he was meeting his friends," you defend Garrick. Even though you know it's a hopeless battle.

"Friends none of us have ever met. Neither do you, by the way," Terry points out.

"I know Xaden," you defend yourself immediately. It's an exaggeration, you only saw Xaden once for five minutes. But that's not the point. You don't even want to imagine how your friends would have treated Garrick's childhood friends from Tyrrendor.

Let them think what they want. You know it's not the truth. You know he would never cheat on you. He loves you. Just as much as you love him. One year. You can do this. Your relationship can survive. 

"You don't even know if he's still alive."

"He is!"

The most dangerous thing in the first year is Threshing, and this was months ago. If Garrick survived that, he can survive anything! You wish you could see him for just a brief moment. You wouldn't even have to talk to him. Just seeing him for a brief moment would be enough. His smile, his bright eyes, his dimples.

Your hand goes to your necklace with the small heart pendant. The small package arrived for your birthday a few weeks ago. Garrick left it with Bodhi before his departure, with strict instructions to send it on time.

At least, that's what Bodhi's letter to you said. You only know him from Garrick's stories. But he sent you a birthday greeting and a gift from Garrick. You will be forever grateful for that.

Every time you touch your necklace, the distance to Garrick doesn't feel quite so far. You feel close to him again.

The card that came with the package is in your nightstand drawer.

So you don't forget me.

As if you weren't thinking about him every second. And every second it hurts more.

Does he miss you as much as you miss him? The next moment, your thoughts seem silly. Of course not. He has enough to do just to survive.

You're sure he is still alive. Someone would have told you! You cling to that hope. You repeat it over and over in your head when fear for Garrick keeps you awake at night. He's alive.

You finally arrive at the marketplace, your hands already frozen solid. And Garrick isn't there to warm them between his. 

As you feared, it's crowded, but Ella still digs her arm through yours and pulls you through the crowd. You stroll from stall to stall, buying lottery tickets even though you know none of you will win. You take a long break for food. You warm yourself up with hot cocoa.

The day flies by. Still, even though you really try, the cheerful atmosphere around you doesn't make it into your heart. For the first time in your life you are glad for the short winter days. The sun is slowly setting, and when it's time to gather in the middle of the marketplace, you are almost relieved.

"Three. Two. One." sounds over the place. In the next moment the lamps are lit. All around you, small flames in colorful glasses ignite. The lights illuminate the dark sky above you, casting sparks and shadows across everything and bathing the snow-covered roofs in bright colors.

It's beautiful. Nevertheless tears well up in your eyes again and your heart grows heavy.

Last year you were here with Garrick. Just as the lights came on, he kissed you. His hand on your cheek was warm as he pulled you close. A whole firework of happiness exploded inside you. "I love you," he whispered against your lips and then kissed you again.

Mara nudges you in the side, bringing you back to the moment. When she sees your tears, she sighs, half annoyed, half sympathetic. When she puts her arm around you, you are still grateful and lean against her shoulder.

You manage to get through the rest of the afternoon with a forced smile on your lips, but as you step through the front door, tears stream down your cheeks. Annoyed by everything and yourself, you wipe them away. 

You could have had a nice day with your friends, but your stupid heart had to remind you especially strongly today how much you miss your boyfriend. Probably because you know the day would have been a thousand times better if Garrick had been by your side.

Without really talking to your parents, you go upstairs, take a hot bath, and then retreat to your room. You light a few candles, draw the curtains across your window to shut out the outside world.

Maybe you can sleep away your bad mood and your aching heart. You slip into comfortable clothes and sit in front of your mirror and start brushing your still damp hair. The mirror in front of you shows sad eyes that look back at you tiredly. You take a deep breath. You ask How much longer can you endure all of this?

Maybe it really would have been wiser to break up before Garrick had to go to Basgiath. Then everything would be easier now. You wouldn't worry so much, you wouldn't be so sad.

You shake your head slightly at this lie. You would probably be even sadder, worry even more. Your love for Garrick wouldn't have disappeared just because you broke up.

You put your brush aside, close your eyes and sigh sadly. Today was a shitty day. But tomorrow will surely be better! And soon you willl be able to see Garrick again. This separation, this distance, is not forever. 

A dull thud behind you makes you flinch. You open your eyes and spin around.

Your eyes play a cruel trick on you. Garrick is standing in your room, handsome as ever. Your heart starts beating wildly in your chest. You're surely dreaming. This can only be a dream. Garrick would never just show up in your room like this, hundreds of miles away from Morraine.

"Hey, Honey." his voice is soft and warm, a slight smile dances around his lips. Your heart leaps.

You blink,  stare at him. You can't believe he's really standing in front of you. The next moment you jump up and throw yourself into his arms. Garrick immediately wraps his strong arms around you, pulls you to his chest, buries his nose in your hair. You feel his warmth, his heartbeat, breathe in his pleasant scent deeply. He's real. This isn't a dream. Garrick is really standing in your room, really holding you in his arms. This fact hits you, and you can't suppress a sob.

"No, Honey. Don't cry. Everything's fine." your boyfriend gently strokes the back of your head. You pull away a little, just enough to look at him. His hazel eyes shine warmly at you, flicking over your face as if he wants to memorize every inch of it. He gently wipes the tears from your cheeks. When he smiles, dimples form on his cheek. You take half a step back, reaching for his hand as you study him closely.

He's always been fit, but his muscles are even more pronounced now under his black clothing. A nearly healed wound stands out on his cheekbone, his knuckles are scraped, and there's a new scar on his neck. His black hair is shorter than you have ever seen it.

But he is alive. And he is standing right in front of you.

"How?" you ask, confused. Your mind is having a hard time keeping up with all the feelings swirling around inside you.

The smile on his face widens even a little. "Signet. But shhh." he puts a finger to his lips. "I've been trying to come to you for days. Xaden said it was a bad idea, but I just couldn't resist. Gods. I've missed you so much."

His hand goes to your hip and he pulls you back against him. Your heart begins to flutter as he slowly bends his head and your lips meet. Fireworks explode inside you as his lips gently move against yours. You wrap your arms around him, savoring the feeling of finally being able to kiss Garrick again. You never want to be separated from him again.

"Better than I remember," he whispers against your lips. You giggle, but Garrick's lips capture yours again and he pulls you closer. Only when you both run out of breath do you separate.

"I missed you so much," you say, snuggling up in his arms and burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Garrick's hand finds the back of your head, gently strokes your hair, and he kisses the top of your head. "Me too. I think of you every day, Honey."

You breathe in his scent deeply before looking into his beautiful eyes again. Warmth and love spread through you. For the first time today you are truly, completely and unconditionally happy.

"How are you?" you ask, checking for injuries again.

"It's gotten better since Threshing," he answers. You frown your eyebrows. Garrick places a hand on your cheek again, gently caress it. "Don't worry. They are not seriously trying to kill us anymore."

You have to swallow. You knew it would be hard for him, but real assassination attempts? Rage burns beneath your skin. How dare they! Garrick has done nothing wrong. "I hate them for this," you say, squeezing his hand. You're not a violent person, the sight of blood makes you sick. Still, you want to kill them all just because they're trying to kill your boyfriend. "I wish everyone would leave you alone."

Garrick laughs mirthlessly and shrugs. "I got used to it." you hate that he's gotten used to assassination attempts. You're afraid that one day your kind, cheerful, gentle Garrick won't be there anymore. That they will break him. "But that's not important right now. I want to show you something." Garrick raises his hand, and a few colorful mage lights appear around you, casting soft rays onto the walls. Fascinated, you watch as the colorful lights dance in the air around you. It's a thousand times more beautiful than the Festival of Lights.

"That's damn cool," you say laughing.

"I know," Garrick grins like a little kid. No, noone will ever be able to take your Garrick away from you. "I can do more." another twist of his wrist, and your door lock clicks softly as it locks. You giggle softly at the proud grin on his face.

 "So you use your magic for little party tricks?" you grin at him.

"What else? That's the only positive thing about the whole Rider Quadrant," he grins, and then suddenly flinches. Is he in pain? Before you can ask what's wrong, Garrick speaks again. "Chradh disagrees." he then laughs. A gentle smile now appears on his face. "I wish you could get to know him. He's, after you, the best thing that ever happened to me. As soon as you get to the Healer Quadrant, we'll sneak away and you'll get to know him."

"I would love that," you say, swallowing your fear. As long as Garrick is by your side, nothing will happen to you, even if you were facing a fire-breathing dragon.

Garrick pulls you closer again, kissing your forehead gently. "Enough of this. How are you?"

"I miss you terribly. All the time." you admit.

Garrick sighs softly, resting his chin on your head while his arms wrap around your body. "I miss you all the time too," he says.

You swallow your tears before whispering, "Mara thinks you're cheating on me. And forgot about me."

Garrick snorts derisively. He dislikes Mara as much as Mara dislikes him. He takes a half-step back to look you in the eyes. "You know I would never do that! I love you and only you. The mere idea of ​​being with anyone else is ridiculous."

You beam at him. "I told her that too." you stand on tiptoes to kiss him. "I'm sorry I sometimes doubt."

Garrick sighs again. "It's fine. I know it's hard. I'm sorry you have to go through this. That I can't be by your side."

"You were forced," you say. Then you shake your head. "But you're here now. I don't want to talk about us being apart for so long when you are standing right in front of me."

Garrick smiles again, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips and then to the necklace around your neck. His smile widens even further.

"I see Bodhi did what I asked," he says, gently stroking the piece of jewelry with his finger.

"Yes," you grin. "Thank you. The necklace is beautiful. I was very happy." Garrick tries to suppress it, but a yawn escapes. "Would you like to rest a bit?" you ask immediately.

"No. I want to spend every second we have with you."

Your heart flutters and warmth spreads through your entire body. You take Garrick's hand and pull him over to the bed.

You cuddle up tightly. It's a little tight, especially since Garrick has gained a lot of muscle since the last time you were here. It doesn't bother you, just one more reason to snuggle even closer to him. You breathe in his scent, finally feeling like being home again. Garrick's hand gently strokes your back.

Garrick talks about Basgiath, Xaden, and Sgaeyl, about flying and how good it feels. About his lessons, sparring. He only tells you the good things, and you're glad for that. You don't want any more fuel for your worries. Again and again, he steals a kiss from your lips. The whole night passes like this, and you wish time would stand still.

But at some point, he sighs sadly. Immediately, your body tenses and your heart clenches. You know it is time to say goodbye again.

"I don't want you to leave." you bury your face in the crook of his neck, pressing a quick kiss to the skin of his neck.

Garrick presses a kiss to the top of your head. "I don't want to go either," he says, his voice husky. You feel him swallow before he takes a deep breath and then sits up with you in his arms. You clutch your shirt, wanting to hold on tight. He shouldn't go back to this death factory. He should stay with you. Tears burn in your eyes.

"Hey, Honey. Please don't cry. I'll be back as soon as I can," he says, but his grip on your hip tightens.

"Promise?" you ask, giving in to the urge to lean in and kiss him before he even can answer. Garrick pulls you close, kissing you as if you'd never see each other again. But then he pulls away, quickly swinging himself out of bed.

"Don't look at me like that. How can I leave when you look at me like that?"

"You're not supposed to leave." you grip his hand tighter, as if he wouldn't be able to tear himself away easily. You get out of bed as well. You're slightly tense from lying cuddled up to Garrick for hours. You don't care.

A quiet laugh shakes his chest. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his chest. "I don't want to go. But I have to," he whispers.

"I know," you say. You hold on to him for a moment longer before you manage to pull away.

Garrick twists his wrist, and all the mage lights around you, except for a small, warm, shimmering one, go out. They simply disappear as if they were never there.

"I'll be back. Until then: Whenever you're worried, look at my mage light. As long as it's lit, I'm alive.”

You stare at the soft glow and nod. "Okay," you whisper, tears gathering in your eyes again, but you stay strong. You know it has to go. Iif his absence is noticed, he'll be in big trouble.

Deserters die by dragon fire. The thought makes you shake yourself before you turn your attention back to Garrick.

You look at him closely, trying to memorize him exactly. His smile, the dimples, his warm hazel eyes that look down at you full of love.

He leans forward again, your lips meet. You try to pour all your love and longing for him into this kiss. You let the warmth in your body carry you away as his lips move perfectly against his.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

You blink and he is gone. You're alone again. What's left is just his small mage light. Your heart is a little lighter than before, and you breathe deeply. His scent still lingers in your room. You can't help but smile. Garrick has found a way to make the distance between you less painful until you finally enter the Healer Quadrant.

Confidence spreads through you. When you can see Garrick from time to time, the months of separation don't feel so bad anymore.

[daydaydayrk420]

I'm the one who asked about the story including a sextape but I'm gonna send an ask after this asking if you received this because sometimes my asks won't send although I hope this one will, but here's the plot.

Steve Rogers x Male Reader.

Plot- the male reader is a new avenger and when he first meets Steve he catches him doing squats in the gym and immediately he can't take his eyes off his bubble butt and Steve notices but as soon as she sees the reader he falls head over heels and he sees him just staring at americas ass so over the week Steve does everything to try and tease the reader using his ass but when the reader doesn't take the hint he decides to surprise him. After a workout the male reader goes back to his room and is shocked to see Steve naked on his bed on his hands and knees showing off America's ass, Steve asks if the reader wants to make a sex tape and reader agrees immediately and so he starts recording and then begins the smut. Please include bottom Steve Rogers and top male reader, include reader rimming Steve, Steve twerking for the male reader, the sex, and then the reader blowing his load all over America's ass while Steve twerks for him again then you can include how it ends like if they decide to become a couple or not and if they decide to keep the sextape for themselves or post it for the world to see.

Show off

Steve Rogers X male reader

⚠️ bottom Steve, top reader, sex tape, rimming, cum shot ⚠️

🚨minors and girls do not interact 🚨

📜 synopsis: y/n is a new avenger and he gains an interest in an ass of a certain team member. Little does he know that that team member is planning something dirty .📜

Y/n has joined the avengers about a week ago.

He blended in quite fast. Everyone immediately started talking to him and starting friendships.

But there is one man who has caught y/n's eyes the most.

Or well.... More like an ass has caught his attention.

Y/n was exploring the avengers tower when mostly everyone was on missions.

He memorised every floor.

Now he's down to the last one he'll probably use the most.

The gym / the training room.

Y/n opens the door with low expectations. It's just a gym. How much difference can there be in an avengers gym and a normal one.

But when y/n opens the door. He's not disappointed.

A couple of meters away from him is a man working out.

A man with an ass.

America's perfect ass.

He's shamelessly staring that he doesn't notice the door shut.

The sound of the doors shutting gets the squatting man's attention. He turns around and sees y/n focused on his ass.

He should feel disgusted. Get up and confront the man about his behaviour. But... He likes the attention?

Why?

He looks away as if he didn't catch the man staring and continues his squatting.

Maybe it's because the attention is on his ass? Not his...goody two shoes captain America persona?

Is this how Steve finds his guilty pleasure?

He finishes his set and gets up. He walks over to get his water bottle only to find the stranger still staring.

"Oh hey. Didn't see you there. Are you the new guy?" Steve pretended and walked over with a smile. He offered his hand for a handshake as he waited for a response.

"Oh uh... Yeah that's me. I'm y/n" Y/n cleared his throat and shook the blond man's hand. "Nice to meet you." He said with a smile but his mind is still focused on the ass.

"So what brought you to the gym?" Steve asks as he turns around to put his water bottle on a nearby bench. He makes sure to sway his ass as he walks.

"Oh I was just... exploring. Getting to know the place." Y/n said as he tries to keep his voice calm. His eyes immediately glued to the man's ass.

And Steve is fully aware. He can feel the hungry eyes whenever he moves.

That's how they met.

And this is how it's going.

Steve is currently in the avengers kitchen. Waiting for the one and only to finally wake up and get his coffee.

Speak of the devil. Y/n, messy as ever and drowsy as a sleeping cat, walks in and drags his feet towards the coffee maker.

"Good morning." Steve said with a grin as he watched how y/n barely held his eyes open.

"mmmrnin..." Y/n tried to speak but his voice is too weak and he's too tired to bother to properly use his mouth.

Steve can't help but laugh.

"Here, let me get your mug before you trip over your own foot trying to get it." The captain said as he leaned over the counter and reached for a mug on the top cupboard. Why do all that? So he can show his ass of course.

But, y/n doesn't seem to care as he's too focused on what type of coffee he wants.

Steve Huffs quietly in disappointment and gives him the mug.

It's been like that for a week.

Steve has been trying everything to show off his ass to y/n. To give the new avenger a hit, a hint that says ' please fuck me '. But the new avenger is so god damn clueless.

The captain just has to take matters into his own hands.

It's Friday.

Steve knows y/n's schedule.

Wakes up at 10. Makes breakfast. Goes to explore the tower as he's still getting used to the layout. And at the end of the day he goes to the gym to tire himself.

So Steve waits. He waits for y/n to go to the gym so he can begin his plan.

"hey Steve wanna join me at the gym tonight?" Y/n asked as he walked by the captain.

"Oh I'd love to but I can't right now I have something to do." Steve wasn't technically lying. He does have plans. And they still include y/n.

"Oh...okay well, next time." Y/n tries to hide his disappointment bug goes to the gym anyway.

Once the sight is clear Steve rushed into y/n's room.

"Fucking hell..." Y/n pants as he's finally in front of his room. He reaches for the handle immediately. Y/n can't to just shower and go to-

"Hey handsome," Steve said with a grin.

Y/n stares wide eyed. Is that... Steve on his bed? Naked?

Yes.

Steve is intact naked. On his elbows and knees with his butt as high as possible. He sways his ass invitingly.

Y/n snaps out of it and quickly shuts the door and locks it.

"Steve-" y/n stops talking when the captain wiggles his ass more.

"Come here and fuck me in front of this camera." He offered and reached behind himself to spread his perfectly round cheeks to show that he's already prepped.

"You - you want to film a sex tape?" Y/n's mouth practically watered at the view.

"With your consent of course," Steve lifted himself so he's only on his knees so he can turn at y/n better.

Y/n's eyes darken with greed. "Is it recording?"

Steve nods. The camera is in fact already recording. It was holstered right next to the bed facing the doors that y/n walked through. So it caught his reaction perfectly. Now it'll perfectly record the upcoming.

That's all it takes for y/n to rush to the bed and push Steve forward so he's on his elbows again.

The captain lets out a surprised gasp. Once he recovers he gets comfortable and wiggles his ass again.

Y/n is naked in an instant.

Y/n strokes himself as he leans down to spit at the captain's hole.

"Fuck waiting." He muttered to himself and latched onto the captain's hole.

He ate him out like a starved man. Steve gasps and moans. Who would've known that y/n's tongue would be so skilled?

The captain whines and pushes back against y/n's face. "Fuck...that tongue is perfect. So fucking perfect." Steve's blabbering out loud as if he was narrating for the camera.

Y/n groans but buries his face more in Steve's ass.

"Please Y/N i need your cock." The captain pleaded.

Y/n pulls off and licks his lips

He's so excited he can only mutter words.

"Lube." He orderes. Steve reaches under the pillow and gives the lube to y/n. He himself is impatient.

Y/n is fast. He's already lubed up and lining up. He grips Steve's ass cheek with one hand and pushes in. He gives the camera a side eye as Steve moans. His back arches and his ass pushes back against y/n.

"Oh fuck you feel better than I imagined." Steve whined and gripped the sheets.

Y/n doesn't give Steve any time to adjust and starts moving immediately. He pulls out almost all the way before he snaps his hips to thrust back in.

The rhythm of the hard thrusts cause the bed to rock against the bed. Y/n checks the camera to make sure it's still recording.

Steve's moans only get louder and louder. His hands eventually found the headboard and gripped it do tight his knuckles turned white.

"Please." The captain's plead is practically spelled out as his voice jumps with each bounce that's caused by the thrusts.

"Your ass is so perfect you know that?" Y/n groans and reaches for the camera.

"I'm gonna paint this ass white." He said and pointed the camera at the captain's hole to show how well he's taking y/n's pounding.

The lube has turned white with use. It's collecting itself at Steve's rim. And y/n makes sure to focus the camera on it.

Steve arches his back, pushing his ass more onto y/n. "I'm close." The captain moans. He reaches down to stroke himself.

Y/n holds the camera with one hand so he can smack the captain's ass with the other. He makes sure to catch every important detail. How the cheek turns red. How Steve's hand is moving fast around his own cock to chase his release.

"Me too." Y/n grunts and smacks Steve's ass again.

The camera captures how fast y/n moves inside the captain. The video will be shaky. But that only adds to the passion.

Steve's hand goes still around his cock as he's hit with an intense climax. But y/n doesn't film it. He films how he pulls out and quickly strokes himself with his free hand.

The captain is trying his best to hold himself up. He looks behind his shoulder to watch how y/n films stroking himself. He can tell that the man is close too so he starts to shake his ass a bit. He would shake it more if he wasn't so exhausted already.

But that's all y/n needs to cum and cover Steve's ass with his cum.

Once he finished Steve finally gave in and collapsed onto the bed.

Y/n follows shortly afterwards.

They're both a panting mess.

Steve however, he turns to face y/n with a shit eating grin. "You look satisfied," he teased the other man as he scooted closer to caress his chest.

Y/n smiles tiredly and looks at the captain. He rests his hand on Steve's hand that's caressing his chest.

"You were amazing." He said with a soft smile and leaned in for a kiss.

The captain doesn't hesitate and returns it immediately.

"Are you still recording?" Steve asks with a chuckle and reaches for the camera that still has a red blinking light.

"Maybe." Y/n chuckles too and watches Steve check the recording.

"we should do that again some day." Steve said with a smile after he turned the camera off and placed it on the nightstand.

He turns to y/n again and lays his head on his chest.

Y/n smiles and runs his finger through the soft blond locks. "Yeah we should."

They both fall asleep with smiles on their faces.

In the morning they'll be smothered with questions about why they were so loud last night to the point y/n once suggests to show them the video which Steve of course declines.

But who knows. Maybe one day Steve will want others to see the tape as well.

[iiiknowplaces]

bags van palmer ⋆⭒˚.⋆

"so, i head out to get the wood, right?" the redhead's voice is light and humorous, the sound of it filling your small hut. you nod, signaling to continue. "and as i walk a little farther, you know who i find?" she looks down at you, who's head is currently laying on her lap.

"who?" you ask, humming a bit at the feeling of her hands brushing through your knotted hair. yeah, definitely platonic.

"you won't believe it. it sounds insane." she smiles with that certain glint in her eye, one that means she's trying to keep you on the edge of your seat.

"come on, just tell me." you insist, voice quiet due to your drowsiness.

"melissa." she pauses between her words for a more dramatic affect. "with shauna."

"what?! no way." you're genuinely a bit shocked, but your reaction would probably be bigger if you were more awake. you can barely keep your eyes open, her calloused hands practically luring you to sleep.

"yup. i mean, they were kind of fighting, but i didn't hear anything once i walked away, so who knows." she laughs a bit, shaking her head. she then looks down at you again, and you're fast asleep. she'd always been amused by the fact that you could sleep anywhere, anytime. it's quite endearing. but the sight of your head in her lap also makes her heart race and her cheeks flush. you're her best friend. she shouldn't feel this way.

your fingers instinctively curl into her flannel as you sleep, and she almost melts. it's so sweet. and when she catches herself smiling at the movement, she realizes something: she's a total goner.

this one's cute. and also very short :( sorry 'bout that😖 see original ask here!

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

Thinking about Bucky being sterile.

((CW: mentions of non-consensual Castration, discussions of infertility, Reader is implied to be AFAB))

Maybe HYDRA forcibly castrated him, maybe it was just an unfortunate side effect of the Serum variant he got, but regardless it does its job.

And to be clear, I don't think kids are something Bucky wants at this point (or even really thinks he deserves). But you have to remember that he’s from a time period where getting married and having kids was the expected thing a person did, whether he wants them or not not being able to have kids the old fashioned way has to be something that weighs on him in some capacity. Also just the idea that, be it intentional or not, HYDRA stripped him of the ability to even have the choice to have kids is something that feels like a way that they'll always have control over him and his sexuality and his ability to perform.

Maybe it's something that doesnt even really cross his mind until he meets you, and he realizes things are going well, and at some point you two are probably going to sleep together and it's going to come up. And he's terrified.

Because he trusts you.

Because he loves you.

You had had been so understanding, so patient. You'd gone at his pace in terms of physical affection, even though it meant that it was weeks into your relationship before you could even touch him. You'd held his hand and kissed his knuckles while he told you of his past as the Soldier, and had held him when it all became to much, wiping his tears with your thumb and whispering that it was okay, that no one was going to hurt him like that again. You were gentle, and patient, and kind, Bucky knew that.

But what if this was it? What if this was the straw that broke the camel's back, and you finally understood that he was no good, that you were better off without him?

He tried to push it from his mind and enjoy whatever time he got with you.

Trying to make as many good memories as possible so that he could hold onto them when you finally wised up and realized that he was ruined.

This comes to a head one night the two of you are getting hotter and heavier than you've ever been before, unable to keep your hands off each other. He gasps when your hands start to find their way to his belt, pulling away instantly with nervous eyes.

'N-no, it's not..." he struggles to find the words, 'there's something you need to know about me, my body..."

"Bucky?" You ask, wanting to both move closer and give him the space he needs all at once, "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Were we moving too fast?"

You hold his hand as he recounts what was done to him to render him sterile, and he tries to hold onto the memory of your warm hand in his, to memorize every detail for when you leave him behind. You're still holding it when he finishes.

"I understand if you want to leave," Bucky stares at the ground, "I won't stop you."

"Bucky..." you feel your throat tightening, "this doesn't change how I feel about you. Why would you think that it would?"

"Because I'm ruined." Every word in his trembling voice is a sledgehammer blow to your heart, "because I'm damaged goods. Because I can't have sex like a normal person, and if kids are something you want in the future I can't give them to you."

His eyes are filled with unshed tears as you take his face in your hands.

"Look at me, love," you can feel tears streaming down your cheeks, "you are not ruined, do you hear me? You're not. What they did to you was horrific, it was inhumane, but it didn't turn you into damaged goods. I don't care that you can't have sex like a ""normal person"". I will make as many adjustments as you need. I would do anything to make sure you feel safe and comfortable. Especially with something so vulnerable. And as far as kids go? If sometime way, way in the future we decide we want kids, there are other ways, Baby. That's not the only way. And even if it was, I wouldn't care. I just want to be with you, do you understand me? I just want you."

He hugs you tight, burying his face in your shoulder and crying softly as you stroke his hair.

"You have me, Bucky," you whisper, pressing soft kisses to his hair, "you have me, no matter what."

Maybe the two of you end up having sex that night, maybe you don't. It doesn't really matter by that point. And obviously, he's not magically healed of his trauma, he still struggles with his self worth, and his body, but you’re there to help him.

You make him feel good, feel safe. Like he's more than the things that were done to him, that he's worth more than what HYDRA took from him.

He loves you more than he can ever say.

Anyways this got long and ramble-y, but I just got thinking about how Bucky being sterilized would effect him and his self worth and his relationships and got thinking.

[radiohao]

yushi swears he has an “obvious” crush on you, but you're in major denial

pairings: tokuno yushi x f!reader

genre: fluff, crack, uni!au, soccerplayer!yushi, bulletpoint fic, oblivious!yn, ft. ive rei, sion, riku, friends-to-lovers

warnings: REDO OF THIS FIC, mentions of reader getting sick, one joke abt kidnapping, a mention of a broken wrist but it's not in detail, mentions of getting drunk, not proofread

wc: 2.7k

—

lately, you've been developing an unHEALTHY obsession with the new transfer student, tokuno yushi

he's in your econ class and came in from japan last semester

you still remember him walking in with a gray sweater, dark washed jeans, and soft, tousled raven black hair

and of course you remember you two locking eyes

u swore you were hearing wedding bells imMEdiately

you looked away so fast your neck probably cracked a little

thank god you sat in the back of the room because then you can just stare at this god-given sPECimen every day for an hour

well... nOw he sits right next to you...

it was... an interesting story, to say the least

— flashback —

you're barely awake and class only begun five minutes ago

wHY did you let rei convince you to play roblox obbies with her at 3AM?? half the world is ASLEEP at that time

and now you're suffering the consequences because your eyelids feel like they weigh 10 pounds

you got an americano since you assumed it'd wake you up, but it's so bitter you can't take another sip without scrunching your face in disgust

u should've gotten a frappe instead

your professor clears her voice before speaking

"good morning everyone! with the new semester starting, i thought it'd be nice if we all compress so it's easier to hear. as you may know, i recently got a surgery done in my throat, therefore i can't speak at loud volumes as it strains it-"

you roll your eyes and softly groan at the announcement

oh lord PLEASE you do not want to be sat with some gUy-

"y/n, may you please sit up here at the front next to yushi? thank you."

wHAT??? oh nonono well now u regret ever thinking that because yushi is not just some GUY!!

you mumble curses as you grab your things and make your way to where yushi is sitting

when you get there, his bag is on the seat next to him, which u assUME is your seat

he looks at you just standing there stupidly and his eyes widen before he takes his bag

"oh, sorry." you wave him off and sit next to him

your professor moves some more people to the front before starting her lecture

ykw this is perfect!! you're in the front so u hear her better and won't... fall.... asleeeeeppp.......

your eyes are drooping and your head jerks forward

crap nO not now

you need to take a sip out of your americano- ZZZzZzZzZzZz

—

so you blacked out.

goddAMNIT

you're woken up when someone lightly squeezes your shoulder

"wake up y/n, lecture is over."

"augpghgnm five more minutes plEAse.."

"okay." oh really? okay period!! that usually doesn't work but hey you'll take it! and whoever this is has a cotton candy-like voice that easily puts you back to sleep again

five minutes pass by and your shoulder is being squeezed again

you FORCE your eyes open before you get drowsy again and once u make eye contact with "cotton candy voice" you nearly fall off your chair

tokuno yushi is sitting next to you with his hand on your shoulder

"i'm sorry, did i startle you?" he says softly

you're like ??? what what what

"no, you're good! thanks for giving me a couple extra minutes to sleep," you say with a laugh

he chuckles and shakes his head, saying "don't worry about it. you seemed tired anyway. i'm gonna head out now- oh, also, make sure to check your notebook."

yushi slings his bag over his shoulder and you just nod as he talks (you're losing focus because of how good he looks rn)

"'m yushi, by the way. see you." he waves goodbye and leaves the room

you open your notebook and see that he wrote down notes for you during the lecture

ur eyes are glued to a little note he put in the corner saying "sorry my handwriting sucks lol" and your first coherent thought is I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN

but then you're also like why did he do that in the first place???

he was probably just being nice since you looked so pathetically tired

yeah that's it

— flashback over —

safe to say you would do anything for tokuno yushi

he tells you to do his homework for him? you'd do it. he says to throw out all your clothes? everything is in the dump already. he asks you to jump off a cliff? you're already falling off the ledge.

well now you and yushi are friends.. sort of

you talk every class and text each other

and when you found out he was on the soccer team he asked you to come to his games, and ever since then you've been going to each one

but it's just that sometimes he does things that make your heart jump and your cheeks warm up

like that one time he gave you his jacket after class because it was raining, saying he "didn't want you to catch a cold"

or that other time when he came to your dorm after his game with snacks beause you said you weren't feeling well

you feel like you should believe that he likes you but it just seems too good to be true!!

and if you're being honest there's so many other girls that line up at his door every day, so it wouldn't make sense for him to choose you!!

this man is making you go clinically insane

and rei keeps telling you HE DOES LIKE U GIRL but ur just like no... i don't tHINk so...

you're torn because there are signs that maybe he does feel the same but when you think about his popularity and how much of a wanted bachelor he is, you feel your confidence start to crumble

maybe you should just give up on your man because there is NO WAY he likes you

—

yushi is going to rip his hair out of his head

WHY is it so difficult to ask a girl out?????

truth is, he's liked you since the day he saw you

it was like wedding bells were ringing in his head and he was like YEP this is the mother of my kids right here

the first time he tried to make a move on you was when you were asked to sit next to him

he silently pumped his fist under the table like Y E S this is my chance

and he thought u looked so pretty while sleeping

yushi secretly moved some of your hair behind your ear because he could see it was bothering you, but he didn't tell you as to not sound creepy

and he's pretty proud of his status with you now, but he really wishes you'd just call him out for all the moves he's made on you because he's SHY

he tried to ask you out two (2) times already!!

the first time when you walked out of the lecture hall together and it started POURING

he lended you his hoodie and he was about to confess but it just so happened that rei called you

"y/n, i have something to tell you."

"what is it?" RRRRIIINGNGNG "oh, hold on. hello, rei? wHAt?! you broke your wrist??? oh my gOD- sorry, yushi i have to go.”

that's fine!!!! there's always next time!!!

the next time he tried asking you out was when you said you came down with a fever on the day of his game

horrible game by the way, he played so bad

(he never plays well when you're not there, yushi swears you're his good luck charm)

he bought all your favorite snacks and a plushie and went to your dorm after the game

you open the door wrapped in a blanket and he just wants to cuddle you-

who said that

"hi, ushi," you say with a croak to your voice, "what are you doing here?"

he smiles softly and holds up a bag

"i got you some snacks. thought you didn't eat yet."

you snicker, "how do you always know?"

"i just do."

you invite him inside and have a little chat

about an hour later, you and yushi are sat on opposite sides of the couch

yushi thinks it's now or never and takes a breath, "y/n, i have feelings for you."

hOOOOOOOnnKK SshhhOOOo

what the hell

he looks to the left and sees you snoring your ass off

and yes u look adorbs but REALLY?? he JUST mustered up the balls to confess and you're sleeping

he sighs.

yushi SWEARS his crush on you is obvious, i mean how is it not??? he lends you his stuff, listens to you talk for hours on end, talks to you more than he talks to his own teammates, and buys you small gifts all the time

LITERALLY EVERYONE KNOWS TOO

like the soccer team, the girls that like him, even his younger brother

he'll just have to give it another shot

third time's the charm, i guess

—

okay, yushi has officially devised a plan

well, technically it's his, riku, and sion's plan

basically what's going to happen is yushi invites you to the upcoming soccer game (to which you always go anyway), and when they win the game, he will offer a ride home to you and confess in the car with flowers and a plushie

sion suggested the car thing so there are no distractions and you can't run away ("that sounds like i'm going to kidnap her," yushi deadpans. "lovingly, of course!" sion exclaims)

riku suggested the flowers and plushie so it's less creepy

so actually this isn't yushi's plan at ALL but he will sAy it's his plan anyway because he's the one confessing!!!

alright, game time. (literally)

—

you walk into the lecture hall and sense bad juju

what's going on, you think. you don't like this!!

as you head to your seat, you notice yushi isn't there in the spot next to you

okay wow so you like him so much your body just knows when he's not there??? got it

but nOO :( he's not here!!!! who are u supposed to stare at now!??!?

you grumble a little as you sit down, but you spot a little post-it note on the chair.

huh, weird

taking it off, you read the writing scratched onto the note, with lettering you recognize all too well

'sorry, skipping class today to rest for tonight's game. it'd be great if u were there, like always. have rei drop u off bc i wanna eat out w/you after. c u :) - yewshee'

you laugh at the stupid spelling of his name

he wants to eat out after??? what do you WEAR????

—

it's almost time for the game and ur STRESSING

HWAT DO YOU WEAR OH MY GOD

you settled on a cute frilly blouse and some shorts

pretty but simple (like yushi, you think)

rei drops you off (her wrist is mostly healed) and you find a seat in the middle of the stands

SMACK in the middle to be more specific

it's not rlly what you wanted but you don't mind because the front stands are full of families cheering on their sons and girls in the back cheering on their bfs

u totally don't wish that was you on the top of the stands haha

oop game is starting

you see yushi warming up and your heart swells

he looks SO good in his uniform because you can see his calves and biceps flexing

amen for soccer uniforms

—

yushi feels like he's going to crap his pants

he's already got the usual pre-game jitters, but it's even worse because he can't SEE you in the stands

where the hell are u???????

he's squinting like an idiot and riku laughs at him

"you look dumb as hell," he says

yushi smacks his back and riku winces in pain

just then he sees you, looking around

wow, you look really pretty

"she can't hear you, by the way." sion laughs

what

OH CRAP DID HE SAY THAT OUT LOUD

he groans and rolls his eyes in embarrassment

their coach tells them that the game is going to start soon

at least yushi knows he'll win now, since you're there

—

they won

is yushi surprised? not at all

he KNEW it from the moment he saw your face

now it's time for the next part of the plan: get you in his car

okay that doesn't sound weird at all

um but it's kind of hard trying to get you when there's a swarm of people around him congratulating him

PLEASE he just needs to get to his (soon-to-be) girl

he practically shoves everyone out of the way and heads to the parking lot

thank god you're already there, leaning against the hood of his car

"sorry, i was held back a bit," he starts

you smile and omg yushi thinks he's gonna faint

"it's okay. but congrats!! you guys did so good, as always."

the two of you open the car and sit inside

"i'm excited! i didn't eat dinner yet since you said we'd be going out- hello why are you not starting the car" you say

"y/n, i have something to tell you." he says cautiously

your head tilts to the side and you gesture for him to continue

he pulls out the flowers and plushie from the backseat and you softly gasp

the bouquet is beautiful, full of your favorite flowers

yushi clears his throat and leans forward a bit

"i have feelings for you. i've liked you for around... 5 months now? but yeah, i thought i'd let you know. if you don't feel the same way, it's okay, we can just move past it. the last thing i want is for you to be uncomfortable, which is now making me realize that i probably shouldn't have done this in the car because it seems weird-"

he's basically rambling at this point but he doesn't cARE he just needs to get it all out before he bails out on himself

"you... like... me??" you question

yushi nods with a small smile on his face

"are you sure? i mean, like, why me?"

"i just feel so comfortable and safe around you. i love how independant, thoughtful and selfless you are, and how you always appreciate the small things in life. i love how genuine you are, because it never makes me feel like i'm being judged or lied to- it just feels real. you always think about others before yourself, and that makes me want to be the person to take care of you."

wow you did not expect that

yushi just kinda stares at u because he didn't expect to say that himself either

haha that's so sweet of him,,, oh god,,,,, this is a LOT to take in

why do you feel lightheaded and why is your vision going black

um what's happeni-

—

so you passed out

maybe it was the shock or the mental stress of the situation but you BLACKED OUT

you wake up to yushi fanning you with some random papers from his backpack that he hurriedly took out

he even has a hand on your wrist to check if you still have a pulse lmao

he freaked OUT when he saw all the color drain from your face

"hey- you okay?" he asks worriedly

you chuckle weakly and sit up, brushing the hair out of ur face

"yeah, sorry i just- i guess i was just surprised."

"did you want me to take you home? or to urgent care?"

"nO- i'm good, i swear, yushi. i just- it was a lot to take in. i didn't think someone like you would like someone like me, but i shouldn't have doubted you. i feel the same way. that was really sweet of you- this whole confession was, to be honest. i don't mind you being the one to take care of me. i want that, actually. i want that with you."

you two are just staring at each other like haha what do we do now

yushi leans forward even more and cups your cheek with his palm gently

"can i kiss you?"

GOD and he asks for consent, how perfect can he get??

"of course."

he presses his lips against yours and they mold together so perfectly it's like he was made to kiss you

when he pulls away you just look at each other fondly

"oh, and y/n?"

"hm?"

"please don't pass out on me like that again, i almost got a heart attack."

you laugh and rub the back of his hand softly

"no promises."

— bonus —

at the diner, you facetime rei and tell her the news

"GOD, FINALLY!!! i nEVer thought this day would come — thank you for having the balls to ask her out, yushi-" she's squealing so much on the other side of the phone she literally starts lagging

riku and sion just laugh at her reaction

"you know," sion starts, "yushi got drunk once and was ranting about you-"

"oh my GOD i remember that!! he was like 'y/n, i looooveeee youuuu...' i think i have a video, actually-" riku adds

"god, please don't." your bf says, massaging his temples

you laugh

he's so cute

—

author's note: hiii!! i loved this banner so much i thought it deserved a better fic to go with it haha so here we go :) have a good day/night everyone!

[hearteyes4logan]

the way he loves in winter — ls¹⁸ lance stroll x fem!reader requested by no one word count: 737 words! fluff

Image from Pinterest!

synopsis: snowed in a canadian winter wonderland, you and lance spend your offseason together

British Columbia, Canada. Off season.

It was the type of cold that nipped your cheeks, leaving them rosy red and making your face bury deeper into the depths of the scarf around your neck. And yet, you didn't mind it. Not here. Not with him.

The mountains stretched endlessly around you — dusted in white and ethereal in the late afternoon. It was a postcard dream, something you could only ever dream yet it was a reality, one with you were currently living. You and Lance were halfway up a hill behind a chalet he rented out for the off-season. Your snowshoes clung loosely to your feet as you dragged them uphill, stomach sore from laughing.

"We're never beating Alonso." You huffed, watching the Spaniard far up the hill, close to the top. "Despite being old, the man does have energy. And spirit." You joke whilst glancing behind you.

Lance looked up at you, face half hidden beneath a beanie, eyes crinkled. "He's probably been training for this, who knows. He does have a home in Switzerland, he probably visits the Swiss Alps without anyone's knowledge."

You laughed, stumbling forward a bit before Lance caught you. Your bundled bodies collided as he wrapped his arms around your waist, steadying you and grounding you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Careful babe." He said, grinning. "Can't have a repeat of face-planting in the snow."

"Again?" You teased. "You forget this happened a year ago.. and you still won't let go?"

"Hey, I'll bring up Lake Louise every time you trip, stumble or fall in the snow."

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't.."

He laughed, nose brushing the crook of your neck as he turned you around, both of your chests rising in sync as the air thinned. He brushed a strand of hair from your face with a snowy finger as he pulled you in for a kiss — gloved hands sliding down to your waist, despite the amount of layers you had on. As you both pulled apart, you both glanced up at Fernando who had just reached the top and flailed his arms about signalling the two of you to hurry up.

"God forbid a boyfriend gets to kiss his girlfriend occasionally." You said, earning a laugh from Lance as he held an arm around your waist, the two of you beginning your journey uphill again.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

That night, the chalet glowed golden against the blue dusk. Inside, the fire roared quietly, and Fernando had disappeared upstairs, muttering something about 'muscle recovery' and a suspicious amount of epsom salts.

You were curled up on the couch, a fuzzy blanket over your legs and Lance beside you in grey sweats and a long-sleeve shirt that hung loose over his frame. His hand rested lazily on your thigh, thumb brushing slow and absent circles into your skin.

"Remember when we first did this?" He asked, voice low. "First ski trip, first winter together."

You nodded, smiling into your cup of spiked cocoa. "You got frostbite."

"You made me stop for selfies mid-blizzard."

"You told me it was romantic snow." You teased.

He leaned over and kissed your temple. "Still is. You make everything feel like that."

Your heart melted, warm and slow, as you looked at him—the firelight soft on his face, shadows dancing across his cheekbones. He looked genuinely relaxed, which was rarely seen during the season. There was no team radio, no grid pressure, just Lance — your Lance.

Later, in the quiet of your shared room, the cold stayed outside whilst the sheets grew warm. His arms wrapped around you from behind, your bodies tangled beneath heavy quilts.

"You ever think how weird it is that we found each other in that world?" You murmured into the silence.

"In the world of motorsport? Yes, sometimes." He said, voice groggy with sleep. "It's weird how you were always a presence in the grid yet I only met you only 2 years ago."

"I know. It honestly feels surreal Lance." You paused as you turned in his arms to face him. "I love you."

His eyes softened, fingers reaching up to brush your baby hairs away from your face.

"I love you too." He whispered.

And he kissed you like it was a promise. Slow. Safe. Home.

Outside, the snow kept falling and inside, you were wrapped in warmth and each whilst Fernando bathed in the other room.

© hearteyes4logan

[userm3rc]

customizing my avatar! ★

✎ summary; how would slytherin boys react to you getting a new piercing?!

-including; draco, blaise, theo (a tad bit suggestive, he just loves u so much :[ ), matteo , enzo

an; this totally isn't because I just got an eyebrow piercing :3,

✮⋆˙ draco; flabbergasted, astonished, at a loss for words really.

realizes somethings changed the moment he lays his eyes on you

truly believes this just enhances your already beautiful features, though is a tad bit confused on the method ...

"a needle through your body part..? why....??"

don't take it in a negative way he's just perplexed! he loves it! genuinely believes he has the best bloody partner in this damned school.

boasts. "oi have you seen my partner recently? yeah they're so much tougher than you" insert that damn smirk...

needs to be educated on the healing process and how he needs to be gentle, but is willing to learn and help with your guidance

───────────────

✮⋆˙ blaise; always so stoic stoik, you're praying for even an eyebrow raise.

notices immediately but doesn't make a fuss, its not his style duh

takes a mental note to compliment you about it in private, he likes it! just doesn't feel the need to bring attention to it if you haven't already yourself.

blaise loves to keep things quiet and private (private but not a secret is his motto, probably on a sticky note hanging on the bathroom mirror), this applies to things you do aswell

"looking a tad more decorated than I last saw you" he'll mumble into your temple

his eyes linger on the piercing a bit longer than everything else, admiration shining in his eyes

although he's not always loud lover, he's attentive :,)

───────────────

✮⋆˙ theo; smirking and plotting how to eat your face off without taking the piercing out:

should've known something was up when he's quiter than usual, taking an exaggerated drag of his cig...

eyes glued on the new jewelery embedded into your skin. not looking anywhere else, its like if he looks away it'll leave

you know the day is over when he finally meets your eyes and they're hooded, hot and heavy...

once he's over feeling horny he loves it, though doesn't understand the concept its an open wound and wants to keep fiddling with it

after some scolding he stops picking at it so much, you'll still catch him staring at it for weeks after, he's quite enchanted with it.

───────────────

✮⋆˙ matteo; the first (and only) time you'll see him pause mentally and physically

don't asked if he noticed something new, why else are you in his lap after watching him buffer for 10 seconds straight?!

if you thought he was possessive before, its as if he's on steroids now

can you blame him? his already super sexy amazing attractive partner just UPGRADED (he didn't know it was even possible!!)

loves it so so so much, similar to theo, just keeps his eyes glued on it for as long as he possibly can.

you'll need to tell him IMMEDIATELY to be gentle or else he'll continue to eat your face off and caress it... after the initial warning hes on his best behavior until its healed...

YOUR personal fidget toy? no YALLS.

───────────────

✮⋆˙ enzo; flustered blushing like a school girl as if he's not a minx himself

cheeks are flushed, body is hot, its like he fell inlove all over again.

cutest reaction of the bunch, he's genuinely curious and asks tons of questions.

"why there? where did you go? did it hurt? does it hurt right now?"

please do not be fooled he's just as bad as theo but has a slight idea that its an open wound and won't pounce on you. (yet)

is creating a mental board of all the new jewelry he'll get you so you have options to switch it out with once its healed.

thinks you're super cool, if you push hard enough (asking him once) he'll get a piercing with you as a bonding method :)

───────────────

omigosh hope u guys enjoyed, pls pls pls feel free to send it reqs I love these silly little guys :3

[ssahotchnerr]

okay so I’m on vacation at the beach and I can’t help but wonder what a family beach trip with Aaron would look like? Is he a beach person? I feel like he isn’t, but would probably go if you loved it. If he did go, would Aaron would go shirtless at the beach? Or would he be worried about his Foyet scars? I think it’s safe to say he’s a drill sergeant when it comes to sunscreen hahah! I just wanted to know your thoughts!!

hi my love!! i hope you’re having the best time!!! 🫶🏻💓🥰💗

and omg aaron is not a beach person in the slightest 😭 the main reason - he despises the sand - it just clings to everything and gets everywhere. like once you're all home and unpacking - it's just on everything and it's on the car's carpet and it irks him so bad 😭 AND he's not a huge fan of the heat either, he prefers to stay strictly under the umbrella, but does enjoy a nice sunset walk when it cools down <333 but the beach does make him worry. if jack is in the water, the man in on HIGH alert because he doesn't want a wave to catch jack by surprise and drag him under. so he's either in the water with jack making sure, or if you happen to be accompanying jack, aaron's keeping a keen eye on the both of you 🥺 hey - waves can be strong, they could easily pull you under as well.

but despite all that, you're right!!!! he’ll happily go if you love the beach 🥹 he'll still have a great time too, there's just other places he would rather be 😭 you know?

his scars :((((( i think he wouldn't go shirtless if you were at a public beach. but if the lil cute beach house you happen to be renting is private - the only people there being your family - he won't wear one because there's no one there to see. AND wearing a shirt just makes him feel hotter overall, especially since the temperature is already making him uncomfortable 😭

and omg aaron is SOOOO attentive when it comes to sunscreen!!!!! he makes sure everyone reapplies frequently, takes breaks from the sun, jack keeps a baseball cap on, and stays hydrated!!!! he's adorably annoying with it actually 😭🥹 and naturally aaron chooses to apply the sunscreen onto you himself 🥰 making sure it's as thorough as possible 🤨 and if you start to look a bit pink, he doesn't say anything and immediately is putting more onto you. hehe you whine his name, saying how you're fine and he's just nope 🥰 being careful never hurt anyone

but again, once the heat of the day is gone and everything has cooled down, that's his favorite part. there's a cool breeze as the two of you walk hand in hand on the beach, feet in the water, watching jack run around and get in the water despite being fully dressed 🥹 but you both can't dare to care - you're on vacation and he's having a blast <333 AND getting dinner and walking around the beach town, aaron's a fan of that too <333 (this is my dream life actually)

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

dark lord im haunted

i dont even care about loz, WHY ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT RN IS YOUR GRAVITY FALS LOZ AU

i read the comments and the idea of stan and ford just. Infinitely reincarnating. One doomed to die and other to kill that one.

im feral about this FORD JUST HAVING TO KILL STAN AND THEN BE LEFT ALONE WITH NOTHING BUT A BODY TO HOLD. FIDDLEFORD WHY DID YOU LET THE RUMORS GO ON FOR SO LONG

and like there is no other way this couldve gone, because the way everything was, NO ONE wouldve helped stan. Ford will probably think about ways this couldve been solved in the 10 years but the thing is, no one woulve helped stanley

maybe if he had a support system, maybe then his death wouldve been avoidable. BUT LITERALLY EVERYONE HATED HIM, AND AS FAR AS HE KNEW SO DID THE FORDS (neither did anything about the rumors)

plus 10 years with bill, even as just a voice wouldve been shitty. and adding burn scars and public resentment? he basically was isolated

all of his card were laid out in front of him, and the only way for him to win in any capacity was just that, get killed by his own brother

AAAAAAAAAAAAA FERAL ABOUT THIS. BITTING, CLAWING, SCREAMING (affectionate)

Glad i could spread the worms!

In my mind, the reason the Fords didn't stop the rumors was a combination of being young and traumatized, trying to wrangle the kingdom together, and not knowing how bad it had gotten until Stan was back and they looked around to see the hatred in everyone's eyes. For Fiddleford he was pro Stan enough that nobles trying to curry his favor during the turbulent times would either not mention Stan, or would down play their own feelings so the King wouldn't catch on. So right up until Stan showed up again he knew there were rumors but thought they were just background, not serious grumblings and not what everyone thought actually happened. For Ford the kingdom was just a sound board for his own dark thoughts. He'd grumble about Stan, someone would grumble with him, and then Ford would feel like his feelings were being vindicated and go into grouchy rants about Stan which just fueled the fires, even if in Fords mind he was just venting. Fords not political enough (despite being raised in a castle) to realize what his words were doing to Stan's reputation, he was just bitter and was happy to have willing ears that agreed. Then he saw how Stan was received and on one hand felt it was deserved but he was also horrified by how violent the reaction was. Sort of 'saying things out of anger and not realizing the impact they have' kind of thing. Fiddleford didn't make an official announcement of what happened due to inexperience, trying to manage a kingdom that had just been through a crisis, and not realizing it was something that needed to be done, as he'd told people his side of the story unofficially and thought that was enough.

Here's this for you :)

Stan held his brothers sword to his chest, sure and steady. All his brother has to do is push it forwards, and everything will finally be fixed. Ford will finally do what Stan took from him, all those years ago.

There are two ways this story could go.

In one Ford stares deep into Stan's eyes, searching, looking for a sign that this was a trick, a sick prank. Some unfunny attempt at humor gone wrong.

All he sees is his brothers expecting gaze, waiting for him. Sees the yellow grow and creep, erasing the warm brown of their childhood away. Black making its way across Stan's face, and if he doesn't do something soon this moment will end. Billl will regain control, and he won't be as willing to let Ford drive his sword through his heart as Stan is.

Stan's asking him to do this. For the first time in ten years, Stan is asking Ford to be the hero, and its the worst thing Ford could ever do.

But its Stan. His brother, his twin.

His best friend.

The trembling stops as Ford closes his eyes. Water pools in the corners as he grits his teeth, adjusts his grip, and shoves the sword forwards with all the strength the goddess has blessed him with.

Stan doesn't even scream, just grunts as the sword goes through flesh, digs in deeper and deeper and Ford yells at the top of his lungs and drives a sword through his own brothers chest until he can't do it anymore. Not because of his grip or waning strength, but because he's driven the sword all the way through, and its hilt won't let him go further.

It's a killing blow, no way to have missed.

Ford let's go of the hilt and grabs Stan's collapsing form before he can topple to the ground. He's whispering something as the blackness fades and chips away, eyes brown and light in them fading. Ford guides his brother to the ground, one hand cupping his head and the other clutching his cloak as all signs if Bill disappeared, as the sword went from a demonic nightmare to glowing dull grey. It didn't regain the light of its blessings, and the pommels eye was closed instead of gone.

Fiddlefords master piece would never- could never be used as it was supposed to again. It was a vessel of evil, had been tainted by Bills touch.

Just like Stan.

Ford choked on his tears as he stared down at the still smiling face of his brother. A blow like this- straight through the heart, where Stan had guided it, it was- there was-

Stan was dead before Ford could find a breath to scream.

He could hear Fiddleford say something, but the ringing in his ears drowned out the words as a heaving sob worked its way out of him, face damp and whole body shaking. He couldn't lay Stan flat with the sword sticking out, so in one quick rage filled move he grabbed the hilt, slid it out, and threw it to the side.

"Stanley," Ford whispered, looking into his brothers eyes. No clever spark twinkled there, no mischievous glint or hardened glare.

Just brown. Brown and lifeless.

He didn't know how long he laid there, crouched over his brothers body. He gently closed Stan's eyes, then brushed away any lingering signs of corruption. The blackness was gone, his arms both human, and what teeth poked out of his still smiling mouth were flat.

Like this, it looked exactly as it should. A man grieving over his dead brother.

Eventually arms pulled him away, and he screamed and thrashed as Stan's body was covered and hidden behind a wall of bodies. Fiddleford's voice cut through the noise, and he turned to see his friend, standing tall and face stained with tears. His mouth was moving, but Ford couldn't make out the words.

All he could hear was his own heart, strong and beating like Stan's would never be again.

Time blurred and the world grayed. They laid Stan to rest back at their small home village, on the cliffs overlooking the sea. He had a distant memory of them coming here, long ago when the world made sense.

Stan would like it.

It wasn't long after that the whispers started. Ignorant folk, talking about how evil Stan must have been, how lucky they were no one was hurt.

How thankful they were that the Hero was there to deal with him so swiftly.

It only took Ford overhearing such talk once for them to learn never to speak of Stan in front of him. Not with such poison. Not with such disdain.

Stan was a hero after all.

Ford was just his brothers murderer.

As time went on and Fiddlefords announcement did little to sway public opinion, Ford found that he could no longer find it in him to care for the troubles of Hyrule. Its evil was vanquished, and every forest and town was filled with his brothers ghost.

He needed to leave. To find someplace where people wouldn't look at him with hope and pride. Find somewhere that needed a man who could wield a sword, could face the dangers ahead and never flinch.

So one night, a year after he'd killed the last Hero of Hyrule, he drove the Master Sword into its pedestal for the next Hero to find, turned around, and left, taking what was quickly becoming known as the Blade of Bill with him.

He said no goodbyes and left only a single note to the one person who really needed to know where he was going.

Stan would get lonely while he was away, but it was fine. They'd see each other again sooner or later.

Stanley Pines was born the younger twin of Stanford Pines, in an era of peace. They were as thick as thieves, running through the forests and fields of their home.

Life was perfect, except for the voice in the back of his mind that whispered at him to kill his brother.

Then they grew, and as they did Stanley found he knew things he shouldn't. Knew secrets others hid, knew monsters others hadn't seen.

Knew how to make them bend to his whims.

Knew he had to die.

Knew Stanford had to be the one to do it.

Stanley Pines was born the twin brother of Stanford Pines, and-

Stanley Pines was born the older twin of Stanford Pines and-

Stanley Pines was born the twin of Stanford Pines but-

They were separated-

They drifted apart-

They were pitied against each other-

-in the beachs, darting through the surf-

-over the dunes, feed sure in the sand-

-up and down the mountains, stumbling into each other by chance-

-and one day Stanley Pines realized he needed to die by his brothers hand, or he would unleash a demon that would ravage the land.

Stanley Pines stared once more at the blade in front of him. A screaming voice yelled at him to draw it from its red scabbard, to finally start what he'd been waiting to do since time began. It writhed and clawed for control, urging him to start the slaughter. Stanley shoved it away, picking the dusty blade up and attaching it to his belt.

Stanford wasn't ready to kill him after all. Stanley wouldn't draw the sword until he knew for sure his twin of a thousand lifetimes had the strength to push it through. It was risky grabbing it so soon in the cycle, but circumstances had lead him here, and he knew from experience leaving it behind once he found it always led to worse odds.

"Shut it why don't you," Stanley said, rolling his eyes at the twin screaming from Bill and the blade, "you act like we haven't done this a hundred times."

With that he turned and left the crumbling temple behind. He'd left a good trail for Stanford to follow, and he didn't want to get caught too early. Best to hold off until he'd planted more seeds of his betrayal, get the Hero's blood boiling. Stanford always had an easier time the longer Stanley waited to draw the blade after all.

This time would be no different.

In another Ford does not close his eyes, cannot look away from his brothers accepting face. Cannot stop himself from looking deeper and deeper, from trying to find some evidence that he doesn't have to do this.

Stan watches as Ford's eyes harden, and his smile grows. Its getting hard to focus, hard to hold back the tide of a demon's mind. But now Ford is ready, and this'll all have been worth it.

He's learned his lesson, he's ready to make amends.

Which means the moment Ford reaches forward to pry Stan's human hand off the Master Sword, Stan's smile twitches, and his control starts to slip.

"What- What're you doin'" Stan says, words slurring slightly and stuttering as Bill claws his way back towards the front of their mind, "Ford-"

"I won't." Ford snaps, voice clipped and eyes bright with the light of determination, "I won't kill my own brother. I'll find a way to save you Stanley, I'll rip Bill from your body if its the last thing I do. I'll-"

"We'll." Fiddleford cuts in, stepping forwards, eyes just as determined as Fords, "This is our fault. We shoulda never let this get as bad as it did. I'm sorry Stanley."

And thats the last thing Stan hears, As Bill tears him away and shoves him back. Their body jerks forwards, Ultra Master Sword swinging down where Ford was standing a moment before. His brother and the King have retreated slightly, and Ford is yelling, Hero's Spirit glowing brightly at the words, but Stan- He can't-

He can't hear what his brother's saying.

Stan feels the heavy weight of Bill crushing his mortal spirit, and Stan rages as much as he can. He forces their swings to go wild, slides their feet out of alignment, makes them lose their balance. If Bill thinks Stan was screaming before, then what he's doing now must be the commands of the greater spirits themselves.

It's one thing to let Ford kill him, its another horror entirely to see his body get used to kill his twin. This wasn't supposed to happen, Ford was supposed to drive the sword through, to use the rage Stan had been fanning since their reunion to power through and trample whatever bonds they might have had.

Bill was never supposed to have a chance.

Instead, due to Fords stubbornness, Stan was watching as Bill's corruption spread across his body. Saw glimpses of his transformed body when Bill turned to follow Ford's movement, saw his worn travelers clothes warp and change into the demons preferred black and yellow noble's apparel. Saw pitch black and gleaming pauldrons manifest on his shoulders in the corner of his eyes, sharp and engraved with demonic symbols. Matching greaves kicked at Fords rolling form when his brother got too close, and then Stan's other hand came to grip the Ultra Master Sword, clawed and black, golden lines flickering as Bill completed his takeover.

Ha! Bills voice rang out in their mind, even as he said something else, something taunting based on Fords expression, out loud, Thought you could pull one over on me did you!

BILL! Stan thought snarled, clawing and writhing at the demonic spirit crushing his own, I WON'T LET YOU-

Won't let me what, kill little Fordsy here? Bills laughter rang out in their shared mind, each cackle a stab as Stan's meager control was wrenched out of his nonexistent hands, I'd like to see you try and stop me. Now shoo, your screaming is only entertaining for so long.

The weight of Bill's spirit became unbearable, and Stan yelled out for Ford, his brother's determined face the last thing he saw before the world went dark.

He wasn't asleep, not with the way he was aware of himself. There was a distant feeling of sensation, sounds muffled and far away, flashes of scenes come and gone too fast to make sense of. At one point he was struck with the knowledge that his hand was wrapped around something delicate, and he used what little power he had to loosen his fingers and drop whatever they were holding.

The burning rage that filled Bill was a triumph, even as the demon pushed Stan further into wherever he was. Something sharp and not there dug into his not thereness, like the demon was grabbing his spirit and digging his claws in. It made Stan writhe as much as he could, and he was pretty sure he'd scream if he had a mouth or thoughts to fling at the demon.

Maybe he was. He didn't know.

What he did know was that Bill couldn't crush him. Or wouldn't. He didn't know why, but every time he came close to feeling like he was going to crumble to pieces the demon would ease his crushing grip. Maybe Bill needed his spirit to control his body? Or the magic that had sealed Bill's mind inside his own had linked them in some way Bill couldn't kill Stan without killing himself. Maybe the demon just like torturing him.

Whatever the reason, it meant Stan was sort of alive in the dark not thereness. Any attempts at clawing his way out was brushed aside, any screams he might have made unheard.

There was no way to know what was happening outside. No way to know if Bill had-

No. Ford was a hero. Ford was The Hero. There was no way Bill could have killed him. Ford was out there, and someone would smack some sense into him eventually. Any moment Stan would feel the Master Sword through the chest, and then...

Wait. If he died, would he still be stuck here? Deep in what he suspected might be Bills overwhelming spirit? That sounded awful actually. Everything was dark and flickered yellow, there was a constant feeling of being watched, and the squished feeling wasn't any kind of pleasant.

What was even less pleasant was the sharp pain to their shoulder. It was the first time he'd felt his body so clearly in... months. Maybe.

However long it had been, the pain radiated through the darkness, and Stan sort of not really saw a warm glow cut through the blackness around him. It soothed the ache to his spirit, even as it really, really, hurt his actual body.

Another sharp pain hit his side, and a few minutes later it his his leg.

Then Stan was hit with agony, as Bill's grip on his spirit disappeared. The heavy feeling that had wrapped around him and shoved him deep into the dark was gone, no longer there to block off the feeling from their body.

Bill was growling something, and their chest and limbs throbbed, not just from the sharp warm points of pain, but from several other cuts and injuries. It took Stan a second to orientate himself, so used to the nothingness, but eventually he realized they were no longer in the plains surrounding the castle.

They were in some kind of grand temple, one Stan was amazed to find he didn't recognize. An image of some kind of pink lizard was on several glass stained windows, casting pink and blue light into the large room. The pews were flung into the walls, the giant doors across him shut and sealed with green and blue light.

In front of him was Ford, wearing the stupid Hero outfit Stan had spent their whole lives laughing at. He was covered in dirt and sweat, and that determined look hadn't left his eyes. Behind him, reloading his crossbow, was Fiddleford.

Stan watched, dazed as Bill exchanged blows with Ford, then felt another sharp pain hit his left arm.

He snapped his head down to see a blue, red, and gold glowing bolt sticking out of his bicep, then looked over at Fiddleford in shock.

"You just shot me!" Stan shouted, confused and trying not to collapse from the agony spreading through him, "Why did you shot me?!"

The realization that he just moved and spoke hit him just as Bill snatched control back once more. The demon screamed and swung again, but all Stan could see was Fords face.

It looked triumphant .

"Its working!" His brother shouted, dodging a swing and slashing at Stan's right arm, where he was holding the Ultra Master Sword, "Keep shooting FIddleford!"

NO?! Stan though shouted, DON'T?! JUST STAB ME ALREADY!

Another bolt hit his other leg, and Stan cursed and slammed the Ultra Master Sword into the ground so he wouldn't fall over.

"What is this?!" Stan yelled, looking up to glare at the excited faces of his brother and king, "What even is the plan here! Can't you just-"

"SHUT UP!" Bill finished, standing up and pulling the sword out of the floor. Stan hissed at the demon for interrupting him, then froze as he caught sight of his arm, where the bolt was still lodged.

A glowing light was spreading out from the bolt, turning Bill's yellow sleeve back into Stan's red one. They made a mad swing at Fords head, and Stan forced them to stumble and glance down at their legs.

Just like his arm, light was radiating from where each bolt had hit him, pushing the corruption back and bringing the feeling of control with it.

"What is wrong with you!" Stan yelled as Bill swung the sword at Fords neck, then tried to shoot a bolt of magic at Fiddleford with their sword. Stan smacked it with their other hand, disrupting the spell and wincing at the screech that rattled their mind.

"A bolt!" Stan continued, after Bill parried a blow from Ford and side stepped another bolt, "A Bolt?! Why couldn't it have been anything else! This hurts!"

"SHUTUPSHUTUP!" Bill screeched, and Stan stuck a spirit tongue at him when the demon tried to squish him down again and he bobbed away. The overwhelming power of his spirit was being pushed back with each wave of warm magic that made Stan want to scream.

"We didn't have a lot of options Stanley!" Ford shouted, rolling away from a swing and doing some kind of weird spin move that hit Stan's-

"Is that another arm!?" Stan screamed, staring at the demonic monster arm that looked like it was growing from his back. Ford slashed at it again, and the entire thing exploded, leaving nothing behind.

Thank the goddess. He wasn't sure he wasn't to figure out how to use extra-

Wait no.

"Just stab me already!" Stan yelled, trying to jerk his swings wide and mess up Bill's dodges, "Why are you dragging this out!?"

"I'm not-" Ford grunted as he rolled (and seriously, what was with all the rolling?), "-Not dragging this out!"

"We're going to save you Stanley!" Fiddleford shouted, and Stan screamed as another bolt embedded itself into his right shoulder. The bolts seemed to pulse together as one, sending a wave of comfort through his spirit while it ripped his body to shreds. The contrasting feeling made him want to throw up.

Then Bill was torn from his mind, leaving a gaping void behind. Stan gasped at the feeling, his mind too empty and silent after ten years of constant chatter.

"NO!"

The Ultra Master Sword screamed, and Stan screamed with it as Bill tried to claw his way back inside. He blinked down to see his arm, still demonic and the pommel eye staring at him, full of rage and hunger.

"This is my body now!" Bill screamed, dragging himself up Stan's arm, "You had your chance, and now-"

"I'm sorry Stanley," Ford said softly, just as the Master Sword flashed in front of him, blocking Stan's view of Bill as it separated his arm from his body.

If the bolts had been agony, tearing him to pieces as it pried Bill's spirit from his own, this was excruciating. He barely paid any attention to Ford slamming his sword through Stan's former arm, too focused on the space where it once been attached to him. Blood was already flowing from the wound, soaking his side and creating a puddle on the floor.

Between one blink and the next he was on the ground. Fiddleford was holding his face with one hand while the other held down his- where his-

It hurt.

Searing pain on top of everything else, worse than the feeling of a demon digging his claws into his spirit. No part of him was free of pain, each bolt still a blazing beacon, each scrape stinging, and the- the- his arm- it-

This time the darkness wasn't the result of a demon, and Stan welcomed it as Ford's panicked face came into view.

It was very cold, and- and-

The ceiling was very blurry and fancy. Too fancy. Stan stared at it for a while, before he remembered he wasn't supposed to be staring at anything.

Everything felt fuzzy and far away, hazy like... like...

But Bill was gone, leaving nothing but the nothingness where the demon had carved a space in Stan's mind for himself. He poked at the spot the demon used to occupy, and shuddered at the feeling of loss.

He exhaled slowly as he looked around the room.

It was his room. His old one, the one he'd lived in a lifetime ago. His tapestries were still hanging on the walls, depicting various historical battles, while his drawings and doodles filled the spaces in between. Someone had cleaned up his surprise clothes pile, and a part of him ached at the loss of mystery. Never knew if he'd grab something clean or stained, and now it was gone, tidied away.

There were a few other things that had changed. Someone had replaced the curtains (understandable, they'd been yellow before), had added a weapons rack and armor stand (the armor looked much better than it had in years, and the sword on the rack was a plain guardsman's), and finally a few chairs were next to his bed.

Ford was sitting in one, arms crossed and head back as he snored. Judging by the light spilling in through the window it was probably early morning. Nerd probably fell asleep sitting there.

Weirdo.

"Time to blow this joint." Stan mumbled, forcing himself to sit up. The world went in and out of focus a few times, so he stared at the far wall until it stopped. Getting the blanket off was another battle, one arm clumsy and the other-

Stan stared at the stump, wrapped in crisp white bandages, perplexed. Any attempts at moving his arm sent prickles of pain up his shoulder, and no arm materialized to help him.

Hmm.

"Ford," Stan said, turning to pull at Fords shirt, "Ford."

Ford awoke with a shout at Stan's touch, and he watched as his brother fell out of the chair and slammed into the ground. Ford shot to his feet a second later, eyes wild and on edge, before meeting Stan's own and freezing.

"Ford," Stan said again pointing at his missing arm, "Ford, my arms gone? Where- have you seen it?"

The expression of Fords face went funky, before landing on some kind of sad.

"Stanley," Ford said, stepping forwards to sit on the edge of the bed, "you're... you're awake."

"Arm." Stan said sadly, and he reached forwards to grab Fords sleeve, "m'arm."

"Yes," Ford grabbed Stan's hand, holding it in his own, "I had- I'm sorry Stanley. We were out of bolts, and I- I couldn't."

Stan blinked at Fords crumpling expression. After a moment he nodded, and Ford slumped, pressing Stan's fingers to his forehead. The grip wasn't tight, and Ford let go when Stan tugged.

What was tight was Ford's grip on Stan's shirt when he tried to get up.

"Stanley!" Ford yelled, pulling him back into the bed, "What are you doing?! You need to rest!"

"I needa... gotta go." Stan mumbled back, trying to wiggle out of his shirt, before flopping down and turning to face his brothers' newest funky face, "Gotta- s'was somthin' I have to do."

"What, what is it, I can-"

"Gotta get stabbed." Stan said eyes wandering over to the sword. It wasn't the right one, but maybe it'd do now that Bill was gone, "Gotta- there was- yeah."

He'd get stabbed, then everything would be better. Fords newest funny face tickled the back of his mind. It looked maybe bad, maybe sad.

"Don't be sbad." Stan said, patting his brothers face, "Gonna hero s'mthigyea?"

Ford pulled his hand down with a sigh, "Stanley, I know you're still recovering and probably won't remember this, but I need you to know."

With that he let go of Stan's hand and leaned forwards, twelve finger's cupping his face. Stan wanted to melt into the feeling, but Fords mean eyes helped him focus.

"I'm not going to stab you, and if you do something like this again? I'll tell Fiddleford to add barbs to the bolts."

"Jerks."

"We were short on time, we didn't-"

"Mean to me."

"The situation was-"

Stan didn't catch the rest. The twelve fingers were pressing into his skin, each firm and tingly on his skin. One of them was rubbing his temple, and it was the nicest thing he'd ever felt. The darkness was like a blanket, gently tugging at him and pulling him far, far away.

[werezmastarbucks]

10. stuck on a tree

flowers over boys masterlist

in which you lecture Jungkook about cocks

word count: 3289

it's the beautiful nature of your work: you are always in the gardens. trimming, digging, placing the stones, cleaning, gathering, planting. and, while the days are sunny if a little stuffy, people are drawn to the gardens. walking and speaking probably feels stupid in the empty yard where there's nothing to look at. of course the king won't go outside the gate to the street to chat, either. so, he retreats to his gardens, after all he has a crew of staff working on maintaining them tirelessly. soon, you will have to run back to the market to beg Seokjin for a new jar of fat for your hands. the Garden of South is full of trees that give fruits. unlike the tangerines. majority of these are ready to be plucked, so for once, you're enjoying standing up and stretching, sometimes standing on your tippy toes to reach them which is good for the back. however, there's always some rearrangement to do, something to perfect. the plants and flowers, even the trees, even though they are much slower than people, constantly change. your eye catches their leaves nodding to one side so you may tie them up a little because all flowers should be facing the windows. you don't try to trim them too much or stomp out the natural lush of plants as they grow and form curious shapes; you highlight them, and Jiyoung says you are really good at listening to them. flowers especially; you listen to them as they sing to you how they want to grow, and you help them. you assign your own meanings to plants when you don't remember the conventional symbolism. you think that, of course, Yoongi is a tangerine. he needs peeling to get to the good stuff. Jimin is an oriental lily that grows in the Night Garden, pretty, so pretty that you don't want to touch it. Seokjin is a peach, full and warm, because when he brought you peaches the first time you were in the cell, they saved you from vomiting from hunger. Taehyung is a pomegranate, with hard skin but many, many scattering parts inside. Jungkook turns out to be a papaya, southern sunny fruit that matches his robe in colour. Hoseok is a black pine, traditional, dark, vivid and strict, all soaked in elegance. you wish Namjoon made himself known. you crave to assign a growing thing to him. whether it will be a tree or a flower, or a fruit. you want to see him.

consumed by your thoughts, you stall under a persimmon tree. those are exceptionally stubborn when it comes to shaping, and maybe Yoongi should be a persimmon. you don't know. you hear Jimin's melody for voice first, and only then notice him: he walks into the garden. the afternoon is a little cloudy, although here and there the sunspots fall on the ground. maybe it's a promise of colder weather soon. you raise your head and get back to work, your hands up in the branches, adjusting the straps. persimmons, like tangerines, are barely ripe yet. king and Jungkook step next to Jimin and circle the tiny pond with fishes, and the maknae throws a look at them. comments something about the fish that's floating too fast, in his opinion.

you should make your presence known, probably. what if they have a super secret royal conversation not suitable for your pleb ears. then again, you didn't care before and you don't still. you find out you're still humming under your nose when Jimin, the one with the sharpest ear, warns:

"i think there's a wasp in your garden, Yoongi. i hear the buzzing".

he hums in return. you are covered well by the branches and the other trees.

"are the fishes fed, y/n?" Jungkook asks, raising his voice. at the pace they are strolling through the garden, there's still a good distance between you.

"yes", you yell back.

"yes what?"

"yes, your Royal Monkeyness".

it's quiet for a little bit.

you can hear his chuckle floating through the garden. they walk slowly, taking in the sights, and you wonder if Yoongi is quiet because he is looking for something to pick on. his usual black and golden dragon robe is back on him, contrasting with silky hair. you realize that you never gave it a thought, how he even has this blond hair. fine, this is the Daechwita dimension, but within this world, there must be a reason he is pearl-blond. it's not like anybody else in the whole of Joseon has similar hair. his nephew has his very characteristic curly long black hair. even Jimin's hair looks natural, although there's an unmistakeable glint of dark-purple now that the light shines on his head. face covered with the bluish mask, highlighting the eyes.

"we could clear a spot around here, close to water", Jimin suggests, and you feel your ears turning. even cock your head to see what the fuck they are discussing. the gardens at this point, although it's barely been over a month, feel like your domain. "clearing" spots sounds to you like upturning flower beds or, god forbid, rooting up trees.

"i don't think this garden is big enough. Eastern is better".

"but it might be colder".

"however there's a direct exit inside the corridors with the barn".

Jimin hums in agreement. Yoongi sighs.

"why did you have to bring me anything at all, Jungkook?"

"i haven't sent any presents for your birthday, uncle", Jungkook complains.

"but peacocks?!"

your nostrlis flare slightly. you sigh noisily. the three of them are already relatively close.

"imagine the beautiful birds walking around here when you get up in the morning", Jungkook goes on, "maybe we should put them in the Night Garden".

Jimin produces a protesting whine. you say,

"lilies are poisonous for birds. it's bad enough you treat them as a present, you also want to kill the poor things? use your head a little, i beg you".

they all stand there and look at you, Jungkook munches on your words. and you can swear, he moves his lover lip inwards as if his tongue is searching for a piercing to play with.

"delightful", Yoongi concludes. that warrants and enthusiastic glance from his nephew. Jimin simply tilts his head.

"you know, animals should live in the wild", you continue. one stubborn branch doesn't want to get inside a knot of twine, and you work it with both hands.

"these are just cocks", Jungkook retorts.

"cocks have certain intelligence, feel pain and can experience distress", you hammer. "can't believe i need to explain animal rights in this year of our Chr- , in the middle of nineteenth century".

"peacocks", Jimin inserts, "lack souls for the simple reason of their beauty". you click your tongue, irritated by his willing ignorance, unless he's fucking with you.

“how do you know they’re beautiful?”

“i touched many”

"so, you don't have a soul, either?" maknae replies jokingly. you would've said the same thing if he hadn't outpaced you.

"but you're right", he turns to his uncle. you can see them with your peripheral vision, relaxed, Jimin turning his head to listen to the sounds, and Yoongi stares in front of him. "knowing you, i should've got you a pet cheetah".

"and named him Jason Statham", you advise. Jungkook raises his eyebrows.

"what, you think i can only quote bts songs?" you shake the coil of twine in your hand, finally having tamed the persimmon. "i am a music fan, i'll have you know. i like a lot of different stuff".

"she always speaks so much?"

Jimin sighs, seeing that the king keeps silent.

"you have no idea. when i had to follow her, my head was buzzing at nights".

Jungkook lowers his voice, turns completely to Yoongi and you hear, as you pick up the basket to move it under the cherry tree:

"can i have her as my personal servant while i am here?"

Yoongi chuckles, low:

"no".

your head snaps towards them.

"maknae, you can't handle me".

Yoongi continues, his gaze firm on you, again because he knows that long enough, and you will start fidgeting.

"but you are right about the hands. look how neatly the trees appear this season. and the flowers are still blooming at the beginning of harvest. Jimin, are you seeing it?"

"very funny".

"you should be the royal florist".

your eyes narrow. his stare is a challenge.

"why are you so nice to me?"

he is in such a good mood around his nephew that he grins, squinting one scarred eye:

"scared? it's about to get worse. come to the palace tomorrow morning".

you clutch the basket to yourself, suspicious. Yoongi seemingly loses interest in this conversation, satisfied with the chill order he'd just dropped, and he turns around. Jungkook and Jimin have nothing else to do but follow him back.

"isn't it curious", counselor purrs, his mask turning half-way, "how she constantly names the century we live in?" Yoongi's long earring clicks in response.

next morning, perhaps because you are nervous about what is on king's mind, you oversleep slightly, and Min-ssi oma's stick finds you on your futon. it's not completely late, but usually you prefer to get up before she grasps her treacherous weapon.

you dress up, checking how clean your hanbok is. arms ache because yesterday was the washing day and you are still the courier girl for the washing basket. those who pissed you off, had their dresses dry in the stables again, and are now wandering around, sleepy, confused, around the garden.

you look at yourself in the metal mirror, your face distorted and a bit blurry like you suddenly have a -7 vision. in the palace, mirrors are better and his royal highness definitely knows what he looks like in details. shit, even the swords are better to look into, than these medieval mirrors. a lot of things still feel medieval here, it's another fifty or something years until the fall of Joseon dynasty if you remember correctly; as you assimilate further, surprisingly many facts come up in your head. all thanks to ot7 obsession. speak about how useless it is to be a fan girl.

your hand reaches for the small jar of the crushed berry paste, forgotten by one of the maids here, still open. some of them even do their makeup on a usual working day, hoping to catch a cute royal guard's eye. now you convince yourself that you plunge your finger inside because it's the palace after all. should look formal and all. can't have Hoseok side eye you because you stand out from other staff. uh huh. you pinch and rub your cheeks with the red finger, then add a little to your lips. you make it barely noticeable and leave the mirror without a second look. huh. why do you even have to do it. what is he, the President of America or something.

Jiyoung notices you when you try to sneak away. she always does, her eagle eye trained on you, for everybody's sake. it narrows now, her voice at normal volume because she doesn't know how delicate the matter is. you don't either.

"where do you think you're going?"

"i need uh..." your finger points in the indefinite direction. it's a bad day to decide to yap less. now four, five, and then six faces are turned to you, looking up.

"you need uh?"

"i need to be somewhere".

"yes, in the Western Garden, fertilizing".

her hands are on her hips.

"you don't get to skip like yesterday".

"hey, i did all the persimmon trees yesterday".

"fine, but today it's work as well".

"oh dear", Yu points her finger at you, "oh dear! her cheeks are red. you have been summoned, haven't you?"

the girls step closer to you, staring you in the face.

"it's the Monkey Prince, isn't it? he is known to take anyone, just about anyone..."

your face wrinkles in indignation.

"i have been promoted, okay? i need to go to the palace and... i guess..."

"sure, you have", they giggle, "that's fine. lucky, lucky".

"eugh", your body shudders, "don't even say that. stop. the baby. no. just..." your hands wave in the air.

"you should put ribbons in your hair if you're going to the palace", Jiyoung gives up, laughing. "come here, i will help you".

it takes her a couple of minutes to weave two silky-lilac ribbons into your braids, and even though they belong to her, they match your face.

"if i see Taetae, i will give him your best".

she hums, trying to stay unaffected, but her cheeks take on a little bit of blood, and she looks fantastic. she closes her eyes, nodding, just like her brother does.

"try not to get yourself into the white dungeon".

your head snaps back to her, horrified mouth opens.

"white? what the hell do they do there?"

Jiyoung covers her mouth with her hand and leans back onto the wooden column, trying not to laugh out.

"sorry. sorry. i had to mess with you".

you sigh with relief, move your head around, as the tips of ribbons bounce on your shoulders.

"you look... admissable", she beams.

you turn around, your eye catching the ribbons flying behind, following your head.

"i look like an idiot. y/n-chan? yes? what do you like? mint fucking chocolate".

Jiyoung lets herself go and roars with laughter, looking at what must be a very alien, very barbaric little dance to her. you realize you're stalling, so you take a breath.

"come on, y/n. it's just little meow meow", you grumble, "you've seen him already. nothing special. just don't lose your cool. fighting".

the storks fly over your head in the bright-blue autumn sky. they drift harmoniosuly aloft, red legs visible from the ground. it smells like spices: the smell comes from the market, opening in the morning. you pass by the gate and keep your back straight, humming a melody as usual. it gets easier as you approach the main doors and climb the stairs to the palace. you actually feel cool doing that. yes, if you were to climb these stairs in the very middle every day like king does, you'd also walk like a gangster. upon entering the hall, you meet a guard's terrified eyes:

"why are you taking the royal entrance?" he whispers. you feel annoyance creep up on you immediately.

"how else am i supposed to enter?"

he looks around and shakes his head quickly.

"move, move. your entrance is at the back".

"should've put up a sign or something".

your steps fall softly on the clean wooden floor as you throw your head back to look around. there are so many rooms in this labyrinth-like place; and you've only been in the back corridors and a couple of places in this month. so there's no chance there's even an approximate map of the palace in your head. especially considering the natural topographical stupidity of someone from the modernity. you picture your loyal and pretty IPhone in your palm and sigh, but think going on without it for a while is very good for your mental health.

it must have taken immense talent to built and decorate this palace: every inch of the wall is encrusted with intricate carvings and gilded, or there's a painting, or a murial, and the blues and greens are so vivid that it catches your eye and startles your mind. the images dedicated to the king's conquests, or whatever he does, maybe the defense of his kingdom; blue mountains covered with black pines like those in the garden. imagery of exotic and fierce animals that have his eyes. there's even a huge, muscular tiger on the tapestry hung in the center of the huge hall, that has a scar over his right eye. handsome. you twirl around yourself to look at every little detail, realizing how fundamental it is, that some two hundred years later people like you will stand on the same spot, seeing the copies of these tapestries, admiring the same carvings, having the same thoughts as you. you have no idea where to go next, because this part of the palace is totally unexplored for you. for now, the hall takes all your attention, and your sloth doesn't go unpunished.

General is again like a shadow; you never hear his steps, like he floats above the ground. ever in his black aura, his eyes still cold, although there's no hatred in them anymore which makes it better.

"you are late and in the wrong section of the palace".

he looks at the entrance, blinks once.

"don't tell me you took the royal steps to come here".

you do a bow, putting one foot behind yourself, covering your face with an arm in the round motion. Hoseok doesn't get the reference, naturally.

"do you need an exorcism?"

you drop the act, seeing that nothing impresses him.

"not very i'm your hope of you".

you make the last attempt at softening Hoseok up, pick up the ribbon on your shoulder and make it jump, but he only gets moodier. he motions with his head.

"you are expected in the throne room at first", he's clearly not happy about it. but doesn't say things like 'how did you even get this far'. of course you suspect there's more to Yoongi's decision to put you right here, than just his admiration of the flowers still blooming. it can't be just that his nephew gave him the idea, and he found it genius. Hoseok is on it whatever the reason is, but it's useless trying to get anything out of him. however, annoying him, as he takes you down the royal corridors, gives you a needed release from the morning nervousness.

"how do i look at least?"

he is silent.

"am i about to cause a wreck?"

"are you?" his voice booms in front of you. you try to catch up with his light but quick steps, all the while spinning your head to see as much of the palace as you can.

"i mean i am probably the worst candidate for the royal florist".

"i wholeheartedly agree".

"you are so mean", you sigh, exasperated, losing energy.

"and you, loud".

he takes you through what looks like an armoury quickly, and you don't get to stare for too long. then, through the small door in the side, to the throne room, now empty. you take a few seconds to look around at first, to check for someone's non-obvious presence, then let your eyes get used to the dimmed light.

"is it always so shaded here?"

"almost", this is the first normal thing Hoseok tells you. "flowers wilted".

"that might be the reason", you look into his face with a helping smile, but his eyes are wandering around the room. he looks a little hesitant, then produces:

"do i need to tell you, do not touch anything. focus on work".

the said work takes your mind pretty quickly. you walk over to the nearest wall with the dried display. the state of the light in here is such that you didn't even notice flowers when you were here before.

"the previous florist did a really lousy job", you conclude, "chrysanthemums? for Yoongi? in autumn?"

General nods.

"the previous florist has been executed".

your head turns to him, amalgamating with the shadows. only his pale face contrasts. your mouth is slightly ajar.

"he reported, happily. you are the arsonist jack in the box, aren't you? blade always thisty for blood?"

his glossy eyes measure you carefully for a moment, then he leaves. good convo.

taglist: @cerulean1riz , @kiki-zb , @mar-lo-pap , @ashyiiy , @enfppuff , @coolpeanutskeletonpersona

[cult-lamb]

What do you think the Evans think of body hair in women?

You know sometimes like in my case we are left natural because of the winter cold

˖ ֹ੭୧ the evan's and body hair ⊹ ࣪

ft. tate langdonㆍkit walkerㆍkyle spencerㆍjames patrick marchㆍkai andersonㆍpeter maximoffㆍcooper day

⸝⸝ ⟢ TATE LANGDON

he wouldn't really care about pubic hair in specific, he'd probably prefer if you trimmed it regular, but he doesn't really care about it being completely clean, he's not dumb he knows hats hard to maintain, however he is a teenage boy and would probably prefer you to have minimal hair on your torso and legs, but he doesn't really mind too much

⸝⸝ ⟢ KIT WALKER

kit wants you to have whatever makes you feel the most beautiful and confident, if you're happy, he's happy, a little hair never hurt anyone, basically perfect husband vibes, he wants you to be happy, but if he really, really had to choose, he'd say neatly trimmed pubic hair and everywhere else he really, really doesn't care

⸝⸝ ⟢ KYLE SPENCER

kyle wouldn't voice his opinions at all, similarly to kit, he wants you to feel beautiful and confident, but he would probably try and gently let you know if it was getting a little bit wild, he'd prefer mostly clean shaven, but again, a little hair never hurt anyone and he'd get used to it pretty quickly, and if you felt beautiful then that's all that matters

⸝⸝ ⟢ JAMES PATRICK MARCH

james, our beloved old fashioned man, he'd want you to be clean shaven, he wouldn't be rude about it, but if he felt that you were getting a little too hairy for his liking, he'd 'gift' you with a shaving kit, actually, he'd probably offer to do it for you so he can gets it how he likes it

⸝⸝ ⟢ KAI ANDERSON

while i'd love to say kai would not care, he would. he'd be loud and proud about it too, he'd expect you to shave pretty much daily, even if you insist it doesn't need doing, he think women aren't supposed to have hair anywhere but on their eye lashes, browns and on their scalp, anywhere else is a big old nope, he'd probably want you to wax as well, to really give it that baby-soft feel

⸝⸝ ⟢ PETER MAXIMOFF

this man could not give one less of a shit about your body hair, he doesn't bother with his own, why shouldn't he expect you to shave, so weather you can plait it or if it's as smooth as a baby's bottom, he doesn't give one singular fuck, he'd go down on you any day of the week, hair or no hair

⸝⸝ ⟢ COOPER DAY

he is the epitome of a clueless virgin, most porn stars are clean shaven so he'd probably actually be a bit surprised to find out that women grow actual body hair, he'd likely be a bit uncomfortable with it for a while before he got used to it, and then he wouldn't mind, unfortunately bad habits die hard, he'd internally prefer you to be clean shaven, but he doesn't mind the hair and would never voice his opinion

notes. massive tmi here so feel free to not read this lmao, anywho, guess who's buying a pregnancy test tomorrow, yours truly, i doubt i'm pregnant considering i haven't slept with anyone in a hot minute but unfortunately my brain won't shut up about it so to the pharmacist i go 😔

TAGS. @anxiousgrungynympho

[httpssturns]

‧₊˚❀ I’d rather pretend ⋆.˚

“I wanna love you, but I'm scared so I'd rather pretend”

cw: angst with a happy ending, questioning, past heartbreak, sad then happy 😊 nick masterlist ○ main masterlist

God, Nick was in heaven.

Right now, he's curled up in his arms. His arms. The man who never fails to make his heart flutter holds him like he's the only thing in the world.

It's so good Nick almost wants to cry, but his brain always has a way of ruining good moments like these.

‘He doesn't want you, he's going to realize how fucked up you are and leave you’

‘you don't deserve love. You don't deserve him.’

A lump forms in his throat, and he feels like he's choking. The tears well, but they aren't from overwhelming joy anymore, but from the cruelty of his mind, the fears that plague his soul.

The flutter in his heart is no more, only the ache, the sadness, the wish that he could push past all of his fears and love him. It's so tempting, so alluring, but he's so scared. He's so scared that this is all a rouse—a dream.

He's going to wake up and this will all be gone. The strong, comforting blanket of his arms will be ripped away from him like a disobedient child gets their favorite stuffed animal taken away, except he didn't do anything wrong.

It feels like everything is closing in, tunnel vision.

‘he'll never love you’

‘you're just a charity case, a good deed’

‘he's going to LEAVE you’

Spiralling. The thoughts in Nick's head only get louder and louder, and the louder they get, the tighter he clutches onto them. He can't stop, he can't stop overthinking this—can't help but think this has to be fake.

“Nick, are you okay?” The boy asks, rubbing his arm softly as he peers into his eyes. Red and watery already.

“I—” Nick starts, before the tears start coming. Like a dam that just erupted, tear after tear after tear. They won't stop coming, and all while Nick starts frantically wiping at his face with his sleeve, every thought pours out of his mouth.

“Do you even like me? Like actually like me? I want you to so bad, I really like you, and you make me feel so safe and comforted and I can't help but think ‘why do you even like me?’ I'm so overdramatic about everything, I'm literally crying right now over something so stupid, I'm so stupid—how could you like someone like me? I'm so broken, and once you see that I'm afraid that you're just going to leave.” Nick rambles, his voice trembling and cracking with almost every word.

The whole rant comes out as word vomit, so fast and so panicked that no one could probably even understand what he was saying, but it didn't matter—not when he felt the soft press of lips against his own.

A soft kiss, something so reassuring it's hard to ever question anything again. It's so light, so small, but even the slightest move of the boy's lips against his own is enough to get Nick to stop panicking, to stop crying, all that's left are the soft hiccups and sniffles, the salty tear tracks on his skin.

“Nick, you're not stupid.” he murmurs softly, gently caressing his cheek with his thumb.

“you aren't dramatic either. You went through such a hard breakup, and I'm so so glad you let me in. That's such a brave thing to do, the way you trusted me enough to be there for you.”

“I'm not goin' anywhere, you know that? Only place I want to be, is where you are, this is my home.” he says firmly, poking Nick's chest where his heart is.

“I don't just like you, Nick. I love you. I've loved you for so long, and all I want is for you to let me love you.”

Those words struck Nick in the heart. So meaningful, how could someone so amazing care for him like this?

“I—” Nick opens his mouth to speak, to protest—to something. But he gets cut off by the gentle peck of the boy's lips and a soft smile.

“just let me love you, baby.” he murmurs into Nick's ear, and by the way he melts into his arms,

He just might.

dividers by @strangergraphics

☆soph's notes: yay! more Nick stuff! this song is actually so great and I love it, anyone who listens to dv4d is a real one fr. I hope you guys enjoyed this fic!!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ @sugarraez @ribbonlovergirl @slvt4subchratt @bernardsbendystraws @oopsiedaisydeer @backwardshatnick @izzylovesmatt @viviansturns @courta13 @coquettechris @matts-wife @matts-babytomatoes @whore4chris @lilssturns @bambi-cloud9 @sturns-mermaid @mattswrinkleton @irlbcmbi @pizzapocketpocketpizza

[dekariosclan]

Hello! I was wondering if you could share your thoughts on this:

So the Party is doing their adventure, as usual, to solve their tadpole problem. Gale has already explained everything to Tav, yet they do not share something for fear of betrayal, especially from Gale. Elminster arrives and gives Gale Mystra's order, however before he leaves he warns him to keep an eye on Tav and to eliminate them the moment they start to be "dangerous" or "suspicious".

The mission goes on, Gale doesn't detonate and the Party reaches Baldur's Gate. Elminster comes again to tell him that he's expected by Mystra in the temple and that she may have found a way to give him forgiveness without the use of the orb.

Long story short: Mystra demands Gale to kill Tav because they too have found something that they shouldn't (not as bad as Gale's one but still enough to piss her off, also in this case Tav is a sorcerer)

Obviously Gale would refuse, even if they were just friends, but do you think that moment would be the drop that breaks the dam to the point that he decides to no longer worship Mystra? Of course Gale loves magic. But to know that the goddess of all magic demands something so important to him after everything she has done? I don't know, if I were him I would probably go "you know what? Fuck you Mystra, I've had enough of your absurdly crazy demands, I won't kill the love of my life/the only person that has helped me get on my feet again. I don't care that you're scared of Tav becoming the next Karsus like you did to me. After I give you the Crown I'll make sure to stay as far away from you as I humanly can and warn everyone of who you really are!"

I don't know.... I think that would be pretty dope of him (especially if he discards his earing after the visit, even more hot in my opinion)

Anon, I feel the need to quote Gale himself:

😂 I have been put on the spot! Not because of your ask about Gale’s response—which I think you and I are of a similar mind on—but because I am rather unfamiliar with the mechanics of DND and the Weave. So I apologize if I mess up or state anything incorrectly regarding the ‘rules’ of magic use!

The thing about Gale is this: He values life and prefers to avoid conflict whenever possible. Yes, he has killed and can kill with magic quite effectively and will do so whenever needed—but he prefers not to. One of the quickest ways to earn his approval early in the game is to avoid unnecessary bloodshed during confrontations. And he gets very angry and upset if, in the Grove, Nettie tries to poison Tav—because if he had been in Tav’s place, it would have resulted in the orb exploding and the devastating loss of many innocent lives.

So let’s start with the friend scenario: I do agree completely that Gale would refuse to kill Tav, and that he would be angry and frankly shocked—moreso than when Mystra demanded his own sacrifice.

Gale’s guilt and shame over his ‘folly’ with the orb, his lack of self-worth, plus his sense of loyalty to Mystra and the Weave, made it so that when he received the order to self-sacrifice he initially responded with sad acceptance, rather than anger. Plus, he knew he would be saving countless lives by doing so.

…but if the order has been that he cause the death of his friend? That he essentially murder his friend? A friend that saved his life? He would 100% outright reject it, and be appalled as well.

I think his anger would be equivalent to how he reacts to Mystra in the Stormshore Tabernacle meeting where he is gunning for the crown: He admonishes her, he raises his voice at her, he is scornful. I don’t think he would have a shred of respect left for her, goddess or no. But I’m not sure if he would give up magic entirely as a result.

From what I’ve seen in the game, if I understand correctly, Gale (or any magic user…?) can be at odds with Mystra and can still achieve magic, as she’s just the ‘conduit’ for the Weave and cannot decide on who does or does not use it. So while he would not ‘worship’ her any longer, he would still allow magic in his life.

But if Tav was his beloved and he was asked to kill them?

I think Gale would be so completely repulsed he might actually give up magic entirely.

This is a man who, in Act 1, explains his relationship to magic as this:

But then, once he knows Tav loves him as much as he loves them, spends the rest of the game

telling them

how much more important

they are to him.

And so I do think, to your point Anon, this could actually be something that would break him and sever his relationship with magic entirely.

Where we differ slightly is that I can’t see Gale going on a verbal rampage and saying “fuck you.” Full disclosure: this definitely veers into my own person hc territory, but I imagine Gale says “fuck you” VERY RARELY, if at all. He does swear a few times in the game, and he absolutely can destroy someone verbally, but I feel that he tends to go the clever/sarcastic route or just straight honest anger without devolving into extremely harsh swearing. Instead, in this instance, I think he would be so repulsed and horrified by Mystra’s request and the thought of betraying Tav that he would actually be at a loss for words.

All I think he would be able to utter in that moment—he, the always talkative, overly-loquacious, extremely chatty wizard—is “Never.”

And I think the absolute revulsion in his eyes would say the rest.

Now, the timing of all this is significant, because it would be in Act 3 and Gale would know that he needs to use his magic abilities to help defeat the Netherbrain. So regarding the earring, if it has no effect on his magic use, I think it would be out of his ear and crushed under his foot immediately.

If, however, it is his ‘magic focus’ (as has been theorized) and he needs it to cast magic, then I think it would stay—even though he would hate it—until the end of the game. And then it would be tossed into the Chionthar along with that goddamn crown, which Gale would deliberately not be returning to Mystra, nor would he be collecting for himself. I believe in this chain of events, Gale would be removing himself completely from all things related to the divine. Because: