#Extended mission duration

[newsepick]

SpaceX Crew-9, Sunita Williams' new ride home, arrives at space station

The SpaceX Crew Dragon capsule successfully docked at the International Space Station (ISS) to rescue stranded NASA astronauts Sunita Williams and Butch Wilmore, who have been on the ISS since June due to issues with their Boeing Starliner. Launched from Florida, the Crew-9 mission carried NASA’s Nick Hague and Russian cosmonaut Alexander Gorbunov. Williams, now ISS commander, welcomed the new crew. The astronauts adaptively engaged in maintenance and experiments. Wilmore and Williams are now scheduled to return to Earth in late February after an extended mission of over eight months, far exceeding their initial week-long plan.

[nyankochan]

Mating Season: Dragon Slayers x fem!reader

Synopsis: You personally hate when mating season comes around, because you are hopelessly lost to your desires. At least you have your mate to generously take care of you. Pairings: [SEPARATE] Natsu x Reader, Laxus x Reader, Sting x Reader, Rogue x Reader, Gajeel x Reader

Content: MDNI, fem! reader, reader is also a dragon slayer, rough sex, unprotected, bodyworship, breeding, Dacryphilia (Natsu), overstimulation, Slight asphyxiation (Laxus) mates (heat and rut cause it makes sense in my head), oral (male and female receiving), dirty talk (Sting & Gajeel), pet names (Sting calls you Angel and Gajeel calles you doll), slight degradation (Gajeel), shower sex (Rogue), cowgirl (Sting), I hope I didn’t forget anything else but sorry if I did.

Word count: 5.4K (I'm tired of my foolishness)

A/N: hoping I resurrect the Fairy Tail fandom with the upcoming release of Fairy Tail 100 year quest. I was going to add Cobra and Acnologia but this shit just got too long

Like clockwork, when early spring rolls around, around mid March to early April, you begin to notice changes. They're subtle changes, unnoticeable to even your closest friends around you at first. You're more antsy when away from your partner for long periods of time, and you've started nesting in your shared home. Just about every article of clothing that has yours and his scent has been gathered and formed into a little fort that brings you a sense of comfort when he's away for work. Still, it does nothing to quell the desire aching in between your legs, and as the days wear on, you grow increasingly frustrated and thus irritable. While you don't mean to, you end up snapping at your guildmates more frequently during this time, only mellowing down when your partner is around and you're comforted by the smell of their pheromones.

It's soon becomes virtually impossible for you to go on quests for an extended duration, and your partner subtly becomes clingier. He's on edge, without even realizing it, always guarding you from other males who foolishly stray too close and making you wear articles of clothing that smell like him. They begin picking fights with others more often, sometimes over the littlest things. They also always return with a gift of some sorts after completing a quest: jewelry, your favorite candy, useless trinkets that just caught their eye and thought you'd like. Your satisfaction appeases their ego and instinct to court you.

The changes in behavior is subtly picked up on by the rest of the guild and virtually no one questions it when the both of you go missing for a few weeks.

Natsu - 「Heated Passion」

Natsu is easily the densest and most combative during mating season. Although you've been mated for about three years now, he never seems to pick up right away what season it is, and you’re too embarrassed to vocalize your desire for him to fuck you senseless. Therefore, the rest of the guild is unfortunately victim to his pent up anger and overprotectivess. Gray talks to you? A fight. Loke offers you something he collected on one of his missions? A fight AND he’s trying to one up him with something even better.

Nastu is particularly hostile with Laxus and Gajeel, as they are the only other male dragon slayers. Laxus couldn’t be bothered. Gajeel on the other hand, definitely taunts him, but not to the point where he’d go so far as to do anything to you. He just likes pissing Natsu off. He would never disrespect someone else’s mate.

Of course though, Igneel had taught him what mating season is. Natsu’s not that dense. Rather, it just takes a minute for him to realize what time of year it is, and when he does, you’re his for the month.

The air is hot from the scent of Natsu’s pheromones mixing with yours. Your mind is hazy and clouded with lust, so you’re not even sure what day it is anymore. Your body is achy and littered with bite marks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, only wanting more.

“N-Natsu~” your pleas are a weak whimper.

Natsu currently has one of your legs thrown over his shoulder while his mouth’s attached to your weeping cunt. He eats you out like a starved man, greedily slurping down all you have to offer. As his tongue moves in and out of your folds at a rough pace, he holds your thighs tightly, burying his face deeper in between them. It doesn’t matter how many times he tastes you, he will never be satisfied. He gets painfully hard just from eating you out, his cock stiff and leaking pre-cum against his abdomen, and he could cum alone from the way your fingers weave in and tug on his hair.

This unfortunately means you’re left overstimulated from orgasm after orgasm. The bad part is, due to the intense haze caused by the excessive pheromones, Natsu truly doesn’t realize until you’re crying, practically begging for him to stop.

“N-no more.” You writhe against the sheets, turning your body to pull away from the greedy dragon slayer. “C-can’t cum anymore.”

A low growl resonates in the back of Natsu’s throat. He grabs and pulls you by your ankle, an easy feat from the way your legs feel like jello. You’re then pinned under his heavy body, sweat and heat radiating off the close proximity of his chest.

“Mine,” Natsu grumbles. He kisses away the tears trickling your cheeks before nuzzling against your neck. You let out a small whimper feeling the swollen head of his cock press against your hole. As you tense, Natsu intertwines his fingers with yours, a soft, subtle reassurance. “Mine…mine…please don’t leave, y/n”

“I’m yours, Natsu.”

Natsu’s canines graze the side of your neck before biting down harshly to draw blood. His hips snap against yours at quick pace while you keen helplessly against him. You feel so deliciously full, his cock reaching the deepest parts of your inner walls leaving you a moaning mess. Still, you want him closer, deeper. You wrap your legs around Natsu’s waist, your own hips bucking up to meet his. The newfound angle has you both shuddering from pleasure.

“Mine,” Natsu grunts. “Mine. My mate.”

See, when Natsu gets close to cumming, he begins to whine. His thrusts become more frantic and erratic as he desperately chases his release. Not even for his own pleasure, but his dragon instincts are telling him to breed. To fill you up and dripping with his seed.

He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, biting your bottom lip teasingly. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you’re coming undone. Your body shivers and your legs are twitching. Your orgasm releases another wave of pheromones which ultimately pushes Natsu over the edge.

With a low whine, his hips press against yours as his own release hits. He stills completely, ensuring he emptied inside you completely before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment of post-sex clarity and some of the intense pheromones disappear, you groan, “Natsu, you’re heavy.”

But he’s already passed out, and you’re stuck in his hold until he rouses you up for another round.

Laxus- 「Electric Desire」

Laxus tries hard to not show his annoyance when mating season rolls around. After all, you two have been mated for the longest out of any couple, so at this point, he should be used to it by now, right? Wrong. Laxus, despite not showing it, gets jealous easily. He won’t say anything directly, but it’s hard not to notice his intense aura that becomes somewhat suffocating to those around him when a member of the Thunder Legion, or worse, another male dragon slayer gets too close to you.

Laxus is less subtle about whisking you away. In fact, he has no problem with throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you out of the guild to your shared apartment.

“Oi, Laxus!” You squirm in his hold. “Put me down already. I’m capable of walking on my own.” Laxus merely ignores you and the strange stares you both get as he walks through Magnolia. After all, it’s taking everything in him to hold his composure as your scent makes him harder and harder. “Laaxusss~” you whine only to be met with a harsh slap against your ass.

By the time you guys make it home, Laxus has more than enough pent up frustration to release and you’re more than happy to receive. The moment the front door closes, Laxus wastes no time pressing you against it, his large hand around your throat as his lips roughly capture yours. You moan into the kiss, beginning to feel lightheaded. Although you do your best to push Laxus back to breathe, his massive frame overpowers yours. He pins your hands above your head, nudging your legs apart with his knee to get even closer. The overwhelming scent of his pheromones sends blood rushing to your head, a euphoric feeling of the pain, and it felt like you could pass out any moment.

You shamelessly rolled your hips against Laxus’s, groaning at the feeling of his erection straining against his pants. At this, Laxus lets out a throaty growl. Once again, he has you over his shoulder. The relief of air is brief as you’re soon thrown on to the living room couch. You don’t even make it down the hall to your shared bedroom.

Laxus was instantly over you. His hands ran under your shirt, tearing upward at the hem. And you didn't resist when he made short work of your pants. There was already a growing wet stain of your arousal on your lacy panties.

"I'm so wet for you, Laxy," You moaned, grinding your hips against your boyfriend trying to receive some sort of relief from friction. Laxus pinned you down, making you whine more, as he tears your underwear off.

“You like testing my patience, don’t you?” Laxus grunts, through his cheeks are beginning to flush red as the hazy desire begins to chip away at his restraint. He swiftly removes his shirt in one movement and starts to unbuckle his belt, freeing his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.

The thing about Laxus was, he was big. He knew it. You knew it. He was a descent size even before getting erect. But you supposed with the increased testosterone during mating season, he somehow grew even bigger. The swollen, leaky tip is an angry red, and it throbs in Laxus’s hand as he aligns himself at your entrance.

“While I’m still somewhat sane,” Laxus huffed, nudging the tip slowly inside the warmth of your cunt. His body was flushed, muscles tense. “I apologize in advance. I don’t think I can hold back.”

Your raised your hips in anticipation. “Then don’t.”

Laxus glided the last couple of inches, burying his shaft to its hilt inside you. He groaned at the feeling, gripping your hips so tight they'd bruise. He was stretching you so wide that you felt like you would rip apart, your stomach bulging slightly from his size.

With a languid roll of his hips, he experimentally pulled his length out from the clamp of your hole. And with a sharp snap of agility only a dragon slayer could demonstrate, he drove himself back into your, the sheer force of his scorching length shot the first wave of pleasure through the both of you. Laxus's body shuddered slightly anticipation. You dug your nails in Laxus's shoulders trying to keep him close. That first penetration gave way to a succession of increasingly rougher thrusts that threatened to shatter your pelvis with all the force Laxus was propelling into you. Each sharp, shooting pang of pain only amplified your enjoyment and arousal.

Laxus growled, fucking out of pure aggression. You could feel it with every frenzied pump of his hips. Lewd moans and the slapping of flesh resounded through the room. You began feeling light headed all over; your hips ached and your insides burned from Laxus's sharp violent thrusts.

Laxus groans, a telltale sign of him getting close. He hovered over You, leaning down to kiss you. His hands trailed up Your bare chest to your nipples that became erect from pleasure. Lips trailing up the side of your neck, Laxus left several bite marks. He reached the area where he had previously left his dragon slayer mark on You and sucked and bit at it aggressively.

"Ah a-ah t-that feels funny." You squirmed.

“you're mine and mine only," Laxus grunted before he bit down harshly. The mark didn't burn as bad as the first time Laxus had bit you, but it didn't mean that it still didn't hurt. “Mine…”

Laxus fumbled slightly, his aggressive and frantic rutting becoming slower and slightly sloppy, instead. You felt your own orgasm building up, to the point of almost bursting. Your body felt hot and sticky, yet you needed something to tilt you over the edge.

"L-Laxy... I need to cum," you whine. "It hurts. Please!"

"Heh..." Laxus laughed with a pant. "Always such a needy little thing."

Laxus's large hand grazed your clit. You shivered at his touch, crying out as Laxus's thumb traced over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Laxus felt his dick twitch and pressed harder, touching you teasingly slow.

"Mm-ngh- I-I'm g-gonna cum," You whined. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your insides snap. You cried out, your body spasming slightly.

"Fuck," Laxus swore. His cock, unbearably hard, buried itself all the way to the hilt inside you. It pulsated with each subsequent spurt, swelling still as he emptied inside your womb. The stimulation leaves you trembling and out of breath.

You have little time to recover as your mate puts you over his shoulder and takes you back to your bedroom. He’s still painfully erect and hasn’t had his fill of you yet.

Sting- 「Radiant Sin」

Sting is the most cocky and the biggest tease out of all the dragon slayers. It’s almost like a game to him, and he takes great satisfaction in the sight of you begging for him. Still, he is quite the jealous one and like Natsu, picks fights with the males he feels threatened by in the guild. Poor Yukino doesn’t quite understand the change in behavior at first and tries to mediate some of the conflict, but Minerva, for lack of a better word, tells her to just leave it alone and not to get in between the stupid fights of hormonal men.

You on the other hand are rather antsy. You can tell it’s that time of the year, and you’re slowly losing your composure, becoming more flustered due to the pheromones Sting was unintentionally releasing while trying to arm wrestle Orga.

Rogue is the only one to notice your growing discomfort. While he isn’t really affected by your scent in the sense it turns him on, but rather it’s giving him a headache. And since he views you like a little sister, he hates to see you suffer and your dumbass mate neglect to take care of you.

“Y/n, are you ok?” Rogue gently coaxed, brushing your hair out of your face, noticing how warm and flushed you felt.

“It’s just a little…hot, Rogue,” you mumble, trying not to let him pick up on the way you’re practically squirming in your seat. He’s a fellow dragon slayer, so even as embarrassing as it is, he knows what’s going on. And, he knows how to get Sting’s attention.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Rogue said, “as you know I value our friendship and respect your relationship with Sting.”

You’re too dazed to quite understand what he meant until you picked up on a new scent: Rogue’s own pheromones. As compared to Sting’s almost vanilla like scent, Rogue has a more deeper, woody fragrance that definitely stands out against the sweet scent you’re emulating.

It’s almost instantaneous the way Sting’s head snaps over to your direction. One quick look at your flushed expression and he’s abandoning whatever he was previously doing, rushing to your side, not before roughly shoving Rogue to the side. Rogue merely ignores the menacing glare he receives, while Sting quickly scoops you up into his arms bridal style and dashes out the guild in a flash of light.

By the time you both make it back to your shared apartment, Sting himself’s starting to feel the effects of his rut beginning to mess with his head. The whole time he was carrying you, you kept nuzzling your head into his neck, whimpering quietly with need.

“Sorry Angel,” Sting huffs, trying to set you on the bed, but you cling to his shirt, not letting him go.

“Sting, please,” you beg.

“Please, what, Angel?” Sting coos, prying your hands off of him and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other teasingly traces down the side of your waist. “I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.” You pout, making your mate chuckle at your expression which he honestly finds cute.

“Please, touch me.”

“But I already am.”

You huff in frustration, not in the mood for games. You try hopelessly and fail to break from Sting’s hold. Something about you being so powerless and fragile against him fueled an inner carnal desire within Sting, not one just to protect but in his eyes, you were his prey. And he wanted to dominate you in every way.

“A-ah, fuck,” Sting swore, his composure slowly crumbling away. He tore away your clothes. The sight of you bare and exposed had him brimming with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Angel. And you’re all mine.”

You couldn’t help feel flushed at his words, covering your face in embarrassment when you felt something prod at your cunt. Sting wedges one finger into your core, then a second one, scissoring you to stretch you out. You whimper at the penetration.

“S-Sting…”

“Shh, just relax.” Sting adds in a third finger. Now, the burn is gone and a satisfying stretch is left in its place. You moan. Your hips involuntarily buck against his hand, searching for more relief which makes the blond chuckle. “Eager, are you?”

"Sting, please," you whimper as you chase your high. Sting’s thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You clench around his fingers, signaling your release, but at the last second he pulls away. You whine at his teasing and pout.

“Don��t worry, Angel,” Sting said, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room. He palms himself through his trousers, the low guttural groan he lets out has you shivering in anticipation. His self control has run out. “You’re not going anywhere until I have you cumming around my cock and carrying my child.”

You quickly help Sting remove his pants, eagerly wanting him to fulfill his dirty promise. Sting pulls you into his lap so that you're straddling him. His hardened erection pokes at your core, making your tremble with need. He teasingly rubs against your clit, but never actually enters which makes you whine.

“Please, Sting, don’t tease me.”

“Heh, you’re cute when you beg.” Sting grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock. The sudden penetration and deep angle made your breath hitch. Tears prickled in your eyes. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good.” String groaned.

Desperate for more, you slowly raise yourself up and down the length of his cock, with minor assistance. Letting out a low moan, Sting tilted his head on the back of the headboard. He loved the way you felt around him. You were so tight, which meant he could only stretch you out more, and you equally loved the feeling.

Eventually, Sting retook the control, bucking upwards in tangent with your own movement, making him reach that sweet spot that had your legs trembling. "Ah fuck, Angel, you take my cock so well!" Sting panted.

He felt you tightening around him even more, practically trying to milk him for everything he had. His dick twitched before the first spurt of his cum shot into your womb.

"S-shit."

Sting hugs you into his chest, biting down on your neck to ground himself. You slump against his hold, all your energy gone as your orgasm washes over you. You stomach feels hot and bloated from being filled with Sting’s release.

You don’t even get a full minute of rest before Sting flips you on your backside, his cock poking at your entrance once more.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” A mischievous grin spreads across Sting’s face. “I said I’m not stoping until you’re pregnant with my baby.”

Rogue - 「Shrouded in Lust」

Rogue is the most gentle of the dragon slayers. Your relationship is relatively new as you’ve only been mated for about a year and a half, therefore he often still treats you like porcelain. In fact, he feels guilty when his desires take over, even though neither of you can help it. He often prioritizes your pleasure over his own, so sometimes you have to coax him into letting you take care of him.

In fact, Rogue honestly falls into rut a few days before your heat finally starts, and he’s pretty embarrassed by his lustful urges and tries to somewhat ignore them. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t deny his instincts, and no matter how much he fucks into his hand, it doesn’t replace you.

Rogue grunts as he comes for the nth time, painting the shower wall white with his release. It’s his fourth shower of the day, and the desire only feels more intense, nagging at him and making his head fuzzy. He quite honestly can’t take it anymore.

You’re practically a saint when you arrive home. You immediately notice the thickness of the pheromones clouding your apartment. It catches you somewhat off guard at first and makes you dizzy. After dropping your belongings off at the door, you quickly follow the smell to the source, growing hotter as the pheromones intensify. You’re surprised and immediately worried upon finding Rogue sitting in the running shower, his eyes completely glazed over and out of it.

“Oh my god, Rogue!” You’re instantly at his side. The shower is ice cold but his face is flushed red with fever. “Rogue, love, can you hear me? Come on, let’s get you dry.” Rogue is all but limp as you step into the shower to hoist him up, getting soaked in the process. The water turns your shirt sheer, your nipples poking through your bra as your intoxicating scent fills Rogue’s nose. His breath hitches.

“I-I’m sorry.”

You don’t get the chance to respond when you’re hoisted up and pressed against the shower wall. Rogue’s lips attached to yours in a frantic, desperate manner, and you become acutely aware of his little problem down stairs.

“Mmph, ah! Rogue, w-wait,” you groan.

“I-I’m sorry.” Rogue buries his face into your shoulder, heaving heavily. “I-I can’t control myself. I’m sorry but fuck I need you so bad.”

You cup Rogue’s cheeks, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, making him whimper at your gentleness. “It’s ok. Just let me undress. I don’t like the feeling of wet clothes.”

Rogue has just enough patience to let you remove your clothing. But the minute you unclasp your bra and throw your panties to the side, that restraint breaks and he pins you back against the shower wall, caressing your supple skin. “I’m sorry I’m so impatient, but I want to put it in so bad.” His cheeks are burning red from embarrassment as he grinds shamelessly against you. Despite the shower practically feeling like ice now, the overwhelming arousal has him burning up.

“C-can I put it in?” Rogue peppered kisses against your neck, nipping at the skin. “Please?”

“Always such a gentleman,” you shakily exhale, grabbing Rogue’s leaky cock to align at your entrance. “Fuck me like you mean it, Rogue.”

At your request Rogue bullies his cock in your cunt. As you whimper, he lets out a guttural groan of satisfaction. The feeling of your tight hole finally clamping around him made Rogue want to cum on the spot. Did you always feel this good?

"Ahh f-fuck..." Rogue stammers. His mind slips into a haze of lust, and his body moves on its own, rutting into you rough and fast in desperate search for his release. He hikes your leg up higher around his waist to fuck into your deeper. You gasp at the feeling, the uncomfortable arch in your back made your toes curl and stars dot your eyes.

"T-there! A-again!" You beg, wrapping your arms around Rogue's shoulders to hold him close. "I-I-m close-" Capturing your lips again, Rogue sucked hard on them in order to bruise. With his free hand, he jabbed his thumb against your clit, proving additional stimulation.

You squealed as you came, biting down on Rogue's tongue. The action made him growl. You clit pulsated, feeling like it was still vibrating. Tingles raced through veins, rocking your entire body.

"F-fuck, I'm close!" Rogue pants. Low grunts and moans left his lips. The feeling of You tightening around his dick even more was enough to send him over the edge.

He comes with a low groan. His body rocks and he presses you against the wall, biting into the crook of your neck. You squirm feeling him release into your heat. From the days of pent up frustration, Rogue cums hard and a lot. So much that you feel it trickle down your leg, making you shiver.

There's silence between the two of your for a few moments as you both recover from your orgasms.

“How long have you been hiding it from me?” You gently brush the wet hair out of Rogue's face. His cheeks flush red in embarrassment, which he tries to hide by burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"About four days..." he mumbles shyly.

"You don't need to keep things like this away from me, love. I'm yours as much as you are mine." The gentle kiss you place on his forehead, though endearing, instantly makes him hard again; his body betrays him as his stiff cock aches for your touch once more . You could only giggle at Rogue's embarrassed whine. "Go ahead. I'm all yours."

Gajeel - 「Iron Heart」

Gajeel is another major tease. Your bratty behavior only turns him on and enacts a predatory desire within him. He doesn't particularly care who hears his dirty words in response to any attitude you give him and quite honestly, takes it as a challenge. In fact, it turns him on the way you become instantly shy and bashful when he threatens to "punish your little ass" in public.

"You're so vulgar," you huff angrily. "I can't stand you."

"Gihi," Gajeel merely laughs, following behind into your shared room.

"you have no sense of shame! I won't be able to look at Lucy or Cana the same again."

Gajeel grins. He thinks it's cute how you put on the tough act despite how much he towers over you. "I don't really give a damn. The whole world can know how good I fuck your pussy for all I care."

Your cheeks flush red, the heat burning more as he corners you to the bed. "Y-you asshole!"

"Yeah?" Gajeel groans. You’re appalled when he palms himself through his pants, a noticeable tent forming at his crotch. Was he seriously turned on right now?! "What else?" Gajeel taunts.

"Y-you y-you-" You stammer over your words as Gajeel pins you to the bed.

"What? Where's that attitude of yours now?" Gajeel's devious smile only grows wider at the way you squirm against his hold. "Since you like running your mouth so damn much, why don't you put it to use. On your knees."

Your body obeys before your mind could register. Gajeel sits on the bed while you drop down to your knees before him. After you unbuckle his belt and release his stiff cock from the confines of his boxers, a relieved groan left Gajeel's lips. He was a lot bigger and had a lot more girth than you anticipated. Did your insults really turn him on that much?

"A-ah! Don't tease me, doll," Gejeel moaned. He threw his head back as Your warm mouth fully enveloped the head of his dick. Another moan left his lips as you began harshly sucking on him. You forced yourself to deep throat him. Whatever you couldn't fit, you used your hand to stroke him. Gajeel bucked his hips up, nearly making You gag on him and tears prickle in your eyes. You continued to slurp and grace every inch of his cock with your tongue. The sensations made his mind go blank.

"F-fuck! You suck me so good." Gajeel grabbed You by the hair and pulled you away from him much to your confusion. He then stood from the bed in front of you, holding your head. His dick throbbed, precum oozing from the tip. His release was so close, he could feel it from the way lust hazed his thoughts. "Open up. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours," Gajeel said.

You gladly did. He shoved his entire length in your mouth, making you gag. His grip on your hair tightened as he let out a shaky moan. He pulled back before forcing himself back in again and again. You couldn't breath. Drool dribbled down your face as you damn near choked. Seeing your lewd expression only turned Gajeel on more.

"You like that doll?" He panted. "You like choking on my fat cock don't you? That pretty little mouth of yours feels so good around me. I could cum on the spot." You only whined in response. Your hands gripped Gajeel's thighs as you tried to steady yourself and get used to his rough pace. "You like when I fuck that mouth of yours, don't you? You're such a good girl. Taking all of me like that."

His cheeks flushed red. The pressure of his release finally snapped. "Ugh fuck! I'm coming!"

Gajeel quickly halted his movements. He practically had a death hold on Your hair, emptying into your mouth. He came a lot and suddenly. You coughed, spitting some of the salty seed out once it unexpectedly hit the back of your throat.

You tried to regain your breath after being practically forced to choke on his length. But the sight of you sitting in front of him with his cum all over you was enough to make Gajeel hard again.

"Strip," he commanded. "I'm not done with you yet doll."

You quickly shed your clothing and undergarments, leaving you completely exposed before the male. Gajeel licked his lips hungrily, eyeing you up and down. His stare made you bashful, but to the dark haired man, you were the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Absolutely beautiful," Gajeel mumbled, pressing his lips against Yours. You eagerly let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands groped your breast. You moaned meekly and rubbed your thighs together.

"Gajeel...please..." You whined. The dragon slayer let out a little chuckle.

"So impatient doll~" Lifting you up with ease, Gajeel carried and gently laid you back on the bed without breaking the next kiss. He cupped your cheeks while biting your lip teasingly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't even remember your own name."

With that, Gajeel rammed his cock into Your wet core. You cried out in pain at the sudden penetration. You held on to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your nails dug into his back leaving red marks.

"F-fuck!" He put one hand on the headboard trying to steady himself. "Ahh you're so tight doll," Gajeel groaned, giving his hips an experimental roll. The way you clenched around his cock nearly made him cum on the spot. He captured your lips again before pulling out and hitting again. His pace soon quickened and the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure.

"Ah fuck doll, you take my cock so well!" Gajeel panted. Sweat covered both your bodies as the sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room. "You like it when I fuck you senseless, don't you? You're clenching around me so tight I could just explode."

"G-Gajeel! Please!" You moaned out. Gajeel grabbed both of you legs and placed them over his shoulders. The new angle hit harder and deeper. You cried out, begging for more.

"Such a greedy girl aren't you? You like it when I'm this deep in you?" Gajeel grunted. "No one else can make you feel this way. Got it?" When you couldn't form any words to respond, Gajeel slapped your thigh making your squeal. "I said you got that? Who can fuck you this good?"

"Y-you-" Y/n gasped.

Gajeel grabbed your hair, pulling harshly. "I don't think I heard you properly, doll. Who can make you feel this good?"

"You Gajeel!" You yelled. He smirked letting out a chuckle.

"Damn right." His orgasm quickly approached. His pace faltered just a bit, making his thrusts more sloppy. His low grunts turned into loud moans. "Ah, fuck I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come so deep you're going to be dripping with my seed."

A loud moan left his lips. His hips stilled and his release hit; he bites down on to your shoulder, drawing blood. You shivered feeling yourself be filled. After he was sure he finished, Gajeel pulled out and sat back on his heels. He stared down at you with a satisfied look on his face as some of his seed leaked from your swollen sex.

Gajeel then flips you over, hiking your ass up to the height he wants.

“W-wait-Gajeel-“

"Gihi We're not done. By the end of the night, everyone will know who you belong to."

Round 2?

[moondirti]

animalic (2)

← chapter 1 // series masterlist

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader rating: mature word count: 2.2k summary: a game of cat and mouse warnings: enemies to lovers, canon typical violence, guns, death, blood, angst, no use of y/n (reader is referred to as ‘wraith’) notes: remember when i said part 2 would take a while? i lied. the next chapter is fun as all hell so i wanted to churn this one out as build up. teehee i hope yall like it regardless

He let you go. 

He let you go. 

No matter how Miguel tries to vindicate it, he rounds back to the same conclusion. You weren’t subtle, regardless of what you’d have yourself believe; he’d seen the calculations glaze over your eyes the instant he pinned you to the wall. He knew what was coming, how your heavy breathing was a cover for the clicks of his watch – of which he heard regardless – and your squirming a diversion from the movement of your busy fingers. He had a goddamn plan too, a fail safe in case you decided to attack instead of listening to reason. 

(One he’d settled on for the duration of your lost consciousness, for knowledge that you would.)

So, there is no dismissing it. You’re obnoxious and lack precision, and he could have had you halfway back home by now, which isn’t the case – because he let you go.  

The frigid air of his office thrums with irritation, weighing down on his shoulders until they collapse inwards, his hands coming up to rub the weariness off his expression. HQ has been unsettlingly quiet as of late – occupied by only a fraction of its regular population – and the peace worries him. History betrays its status as the precursor to havoc; lulls in the past have fooled him into believing his mission was drawing to a close, only for another anomaly, another mess, to spin that naivety on its head. 

You were one such instance. A year ago, you’d popped up on an Earth that wasn’t your own, and didn’t leave until you’d drawn all that you could from it. It’s an empty husk now, lacking land to propagate its agriculture. Thousands – millions – dead, from the flap of a butterfly’s wings.

Parasite. A fucking parasite who just won’t quit. 

The mantra surges through him, festering from the base of his gut to the cap of his tongue. It bursts out with a roar right then, the sudden violence finding monitors thrown across the room, smashed to bits of orange light and static. It does nothing to sate him, though, the heady anger filtering out like molasses. His back hunches as he draws in thin breaths. He doesn’t count, nor does he attempt to. Instead, he looks for his only real decompressor. 

The video of Gabriella flickers at him from a distant floor, the transparent tablet wrecked with four distinct claw marks. He exhales, pulling it back to the platform with an extended web. 

“Boss,” 

His mija smiles toothily down at his digital self, winding her small palms in his hair for balance as he carries her. He recalls helping with hers, tying it back into shabby ponytails the mornings before a big game. How she wouldn’t let anyone fix it afterwards, not until her elastic slipped off the ends and her bangs hindered her playing. And she’d run to him, whenever, to get it fixed again. 

“Boss.” 

Her jokes resonate still, echoing laughter from when she’d poke fun at how bad he’d gotten at it, amused by the sudden decline in ability. To Miguel, it was one more reminder that the life he led wasn’t his own. 

“Oh Miguel!” 

So much for calming down.

“Lyla.” He looks up at the virtual assistant, her corporeal character a little fuzzy around the edges. She chooses to ignore his dissociative episode, rather projecting a map of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse, a point off centre highlighted in red. His heart skips. Placing the tablet down on his desk, he takes a step closer to survey the pin.

“Managed to track the Wraith down using the day pass you’d given her. Currently stationed on Earth-15, no signs of jumping anytime soon.” 

Parasitic, and stupid enough to forgo destroying a potential tracking device.

Lyla snickers, seemingly able to read the sneer pulling at his cheeks. 

“Seems like she’s afraid of glitching more so than she is you, Boss.” 

His glare snaps to meet her heart shaped sunglasses. 

“Funny.” His assistant shrugs at his admonishment. “Pull up the anomaly cam.” 

A second later, your figure blinks into sight. 

You’re crouched atop a tiled floor, the grout darkened to near-black with grime. In front of you lies a sparse spread of medical supplies; gauze, scissors, and miniature packets of disinfectant wipes. Miguel can’t help but wonder what you think you’re doing, treating your wounds in a bathroom as unsanitary as the one that cramps you. Graffiti littered walls, nests of used paper towels in every corner. You spring up to wash your hands after undoing the old bandages that hugged your forearm, but all that comes out is an inconsistent splutter of grey water. 

His chest twinges, a tug of intrinsic sympathy playing against him. It worsens at the sight of your injury, the consequences of his talons’ assault on you, the puncture points brimming yellow and blackening closer to their middles. He can’t tell whether it’s gotten any better, whether you were good and had it treated by a professional, or made the common mistake of relying too much on your enhanced healing. 

“Gave her a harsh gig there. You always that rough?” 

“When I need to be.” Miguel murmurs, skimming over the conspicuous innuendo.

“Right. Until it comes to finishing the job, that is.” And, despite the offence taken to Lyla’s jest, he can hardly disagree. Newfound resolve hardens within him, sympathy fleeting at its failure to deter him. 

“Set coordinates for Earth-15.” He rumbles, gesturing to his wrist as he walks away. The assistant does as she’s told, shrinking back to an icon on his watch. While waiting for the portal to configure, Miguel cocks his head, taking one last look at your oblivious form. 

“I won't let her get away this time.” 

“Put the money in the fucking bag or she gets it!”

Of all the spider-people you’ve met, you don’t believe any have been the hostage in an armed robbery situation. You imagine that they’d come in at the last minute, valiantly swinging through the window, accentuating their arrival in a shower of shattered glass. They’d demand the money be remitted, and all’s well that ends well. But – of course – there’s got to be a first for everything; your record just so happens to be the lamest of the bunch. 

The masked man presses the gun further into your temple, bursting capillaries until the spot starts to ache with a raw tenderness. His body wraps around you, other arm waving wildly outwards, extending a plastic bag to the poor soul behind the register. You take a great gulp of air, staring at the buzzing fluorescents above, and pray. 

Lord, now would be a really good time to phase out. 

“P-Please, leave her be.” The owner throws a potful of crumpled fives into the bag, as if to punctuate her plea. The man is dismissive in face, urging her for more, shaking the receptacle with comedic insistence. You purse your lips, blinking up at the ceiling once more. 

Or make this more exciting, at the very least. 

“And you!” You’re jolted out of being a passive observer, rattled when the man diverts his attention to you. His gun thrusts harder against your forming bruise, adding to the list of damages sustained in the past week alone. You peer at him from the corner of your eye. His roll incredulously, pointing to the bill in your grip. “The twenty!” 

“Is that a real gun?” 

“Wha– Of course it’s a real fucking gun! Put the money–” 

“In the bag. I know.” 

His hold on you slackens, expectant. By contrast, you ball your fist and punch him square in the nose. The hit sends him reeling farther than it should for the amount of space you had in winding back, the feat prompting a deluge of pride to wash over you. It’s bolstered when he drops the spoils in the process, toppling into a rack of chips and cup noodles that consequently cushion his fall. 

Your first save. 

Filled with bravado, you snatch and pass over the bag to the cashier. 

“Here you go, ma’am.” 

But she doesn’t look at you. Rather, her stare remains trained on the man you’d just disabled. Nerves maturating, you join her line of vision, only to be met with the barrel end of his weapon. You catch the vicious conclusion in the way his hand trembles, veins protruding from the pale skin, supplying courage to the finger hovering right over the trigger. You process it all, aware of the ways it can end, at how fast it can sour.  

Before you can so much as act on it, he shoots. 

Your skin prickles. 

You’ve heard stories of people who don’t realise when a bullet strikes them. Their bodies take time to catch up to the pain, cells stuck in paralytic shock, stimulus signals held somewhere between the existential and a will to delay the inevitable. You think you understand what they mean, your mind dragging in a rare bout of silence. Things slow, for a perennial moment, and you wonder how fast the blood loss will kill you.

You can do nothing but follow the man, who scrambles to a stand, letting him take the money – with whatever else – and watching as he runs out onto the street. 

And even still, the pain hasn’t caught up to you. 

Looking down, the case starts piecing itself together. No blood sticks to your shirt, the fabric still as pristine as it had been upon purchase. You check your arms, then your legs, then reach up to smooth over your head. Nothing. You’re okay.

The relief is short-lived when the morbid sound of gurgling meets your ears. Slowly, you turn, bracing for what you knew you’d find.  

The scene unfolds with a distressing intensity as crimson liquid blooms from the cashier’s throat. The torrent is never-ending, every gush of ichor bringing forth a new momentum, splattering its macabre scene over the register. Her eyes gloss over with an unshed panel of tears, and she looks to you for help. 

She looks to you. 

(You don’t admit it to yourself, but it’s the novelty of that fact that pushes you into action.) 

With a swift leap over the counter, you intercept her mid-fall, carefully cradling her weight as you guide her down to the ground. Scanning your surroundings, you search for a means to call for help. A rotary phone catches your recognition, situated a ways off by the back exit. Despite the inconvenient placement, it stands as your sole option at this stage.

In a split second decision, you sling your backpack off, hastily rummaging through its contents. You find solace in your hoodie, gathering its folds to tightly bunch it up, converting it into a makeshift compress.  Knowing she lacks the strength to apply pressure to the wound, you move to wrap it around her neck, hopeful that it’s tight enough to stem the bleeding while leaving enough room for air. 

Urgency fuelling your every step, you leave her side for a fleeting moment, dashing over to call an ambulance. Your medical knowledge only extends so far, and some selfish part of you itches to pass on the responsibility to someone more competent. It’s an impulse that derives from an innate acceptance, that resoundingly insightful voice in your head telling you it's too late. That she’s already dead, had been from the moment the bullet – that was meant for you – missed. 

Perhaps your help isn’t really helpful at all, then. Perhaps it’s your attempt to wash your hands of the sin. You think back to the grey water in the bathroom, how exasperated you had been at your inability to stay clean. 

(You don’t think you’ll ever rid yourself of this.) 

“911, what’s your emergency?” The question crackles through the receiver.

The bell by the entrance jingles, the chime accompanied by heavy footsteps. You press yourself against the wall, the concept of the robber returning filling you with such dread that you feel your stomach tighten and congeal. It’s a heavy lump, icy cold and slippery, and it seems to weigh a hundred pounds.

“Hello?” The operator says. 

But if it was the man, then he'd have to have changed into a navy and red suit. Somehow, your terror worsens. 

“Hijo de la chingada…” The whisper is barely legible, but the deep baritone is discernible enough to validate the assumption pulled from your brief glimpse. You’d recognise him anywhere. 

Shrinking in on yourself, you cup your palm over your mouth. “Hello,” 

“Ma’am? Can you describe your emergency?” 

“There was an armed robbery at the convenience off sixth and Third. Someone’s hurt.” You hardly register the words as they escape you, eyeing Miguel when he crouches over the lady. You’re propelled back to the conclusion of your last meeting; how his claws tore into you, how his persistence didn't falter until you pressed yourself onto him. 

That kiss. 

He runs a finger over your hoodie-turned-compress, wavering, like he can’t quite place where he’d seen it before. 

Or, maybe he can, for he spins to meet your wide-eyed stare. 

You drop the phone, bolting out the back door, charged on a paroxysm of adrenaline and pure, unadulterated panic.

chapter 3 →

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be notified of future updates!

@ashjbu @its-cat-eyes @lavnderluv @22carolina08 @chocolat3pudding @fucknuggets420 @storyteller-le @royalpurplehuskies @vernon-dursley @ohantonia @vngelis @brucewaynesturtleneck @goldstars-to-all @swissy23 @aisyakirmann @kocasoda @starrfragment @@rei-vi @mbapbaesluvr @strangerfromketterdam @reypolaris @reddeaddepressed @@one17 @feyrespaintings @kuinnoa @omeletteattack @the-omnipotent-phlowr @coacaiyne @tis-niki @arcanaaaa @cookiezxx @flourescence

[justabigassnerd]

Summer of Love pt. 1

Pairing - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x reader

Word count - 2,367

Warnings - none

Summary - while in the final stages of recovery after a mission gone wrong, Bradley signs himself up to work at a summer camp just for something to do since Maverick has barred him from Navy work for the time being. meanwhile, you're in between jobs and figure working at a summer camp is some good experience. you meet Bradley and experience a romance you could've never expected (along with some very nosy kids)

Summer of Love masterlist

A/N - here it is y'all! the very first part of 'Summer of Love' I am so excited to be posting this I'm honestly so impressed with myself for writing it as quick as I did and I hope this lives up to expectations. I will say I am open to suggestions on things people may like to see within the series so if you have ideas do feel free to suggest them in my inbox :). anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

After hours upon hours of driving, you finally pulled into the summer camp that was to be your home and workplace for the next couple of months. You parked your car and stepped out of the driver’s seat raising your arms and stretching, sighing as you take in the sights of the camp, amazed at all the beauty that surrounded you.

After stretching and bringing some relief to your tense body, you head in the direction of the buildings you saw, trying to locate the office and soon figuring it out by process of elimination. You approach the building, seeing someone standing just outside who is watching the various soon-to-be counsellors walking around and interacting with each other and they soon notice you approaching them.

“Hello! I’m Kerry!” The woman greets you enthusiastically and you immediately recognise her to be the Camp Director.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You say, holding your hand out to shake hers before she consults her clipboard, eyes scanning the list for your name.

“Ah, there you are. You’ll be in cabin six. We put the counsellors in cabins together for orientation so you guys can get to know each other and near the end of orientation, we give you guys your cabins for the summer.” Kerry explains, gesturing for you to follow her as she leads you towards some wooden carts you could use to put your belongings in to carry them to the cabin easier and she waits patiently for you to unload your stuff into the cart before having you follow her to the cabin you’d be staying in for the duration of orientation. The cabin wasn’t huge, but it didn’t need to be. It sat just along the lake as all the cabins did.

When you enter the cabin, it is empty but there is evidence of other people. Neatly made beds, people’s stuff upon bedside tables and shelves.

“Thank you, Kerry.” You thanked her as you explored the cabin. Kerry bids you goodbye and tells you when meal times are and lets you know that you’re free to explore the camp and get your bearings before leaving you to your own devices. You picked an empty bed and began moving your stuff from the cart outside to the cabin and began unpacking slightly, making your bed and tucking your suitcase under the bed to clear space. You hadn’t packed too much, just following the very basics of the packing list you were sent so thankfully your bag wasn’t too big or heavy.

When you finished unpacking and tidying your stuff away, you decided to leave the cabin and explore the camp a little. Instead of backtracking the way you came when Kerry showed you to your cabin, you went the opposite direction, following the row of cabins until you reached a spot overlooking the lake and you took a moment to take in the sights. The camp was surrounded by woodland as well as the lake and the trees extended all along the lakeside, but you could see small wooden buildings directly opposite you on the lake which was a clear indicator that this camp wasn’t the only camp on the lake. After appreciating the beauty before you, you continue to walk the line of cabins, unsurprised to see that they’re mostly the same size with a small handful being a little smaller for fewer kids. You pass various other members of staff who offer you a smile and a wave which you return. You then soon end up back at the main area of the camp where the dining hall and office are located.

“Hey, I saw you standing here so I figured I’d come over and say hi. I’m Ella.” A woman approaches you with a smile. She looked to be a little younger than you but regardless you smiled and introduced yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ella. I’m y/n. I’m just getting my bearings. It’s pretty spacious.” You reply, watching as she nods before glancing around the space around you.

“It takes a bit of getting used to. This is my second summer here so I’m more than happy to show you around if you’d like.” Ella offers, looking back at you with a friendly smile.

“If it’s not too much trouble I’d love it if you could show me around.” You say gratefully, following Ella as she gestures for you to follow her. She first leads you to the dining hall, taking you to the top of the stairs and showing you the large room filled with tables.

“This is the dining hall. It will be much more chill with just staff because when the kids arrive it can get noisy, not to mention all the songs at dinner.” Ella explains with a laugh, thinking back to her last year at camp.

“Got it. Make sure I prepare for all the songs.” You reply, chuckling slightly at the image of the dining hall filled with kids singing. You then follow Ella back down the stairs and stick by her side as she gives you a full tour of the camp, even explaining how certain things work around camp as well as giving little anecdotes of her own past experiences. You even find out that she’s staying in the same cabin as you during orientation which makes you relax upon the thought that you now know at least one person in the cabin. When Ella concludes the unofficial tour, you notice a group of male counsellors emerging from the staff lounge all talking over each other as they head towards the dining room just as you hear Ella mentioning that it is almost dinner time. You and Ella make your way to the dining room and join the queue for food, standing behind one of the men who had walked past you just moments prior and he soon turned around to face you and you never could’ve prepared yourself for how attractive this man was.

He was tall, had sandy blond hair and had brown eyes that looked perfect when the sun hit them. He was muscular and sporting a moustache which you thought suited him. When he locked eyes with you, he smiled softly and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hey, you must’ve just arrived today. I’m Bradley.” He introduced himself, his smile never fading nor his eyes leaving yours even as he reached for a paper plate to serve up his meal.

“Yeah, I’ve not been here very long. I’m y/n.” You reply with a smile, grabbing a plate of your own and dishing yourself up some food.

“Nice to meet you, y/n.” You couldn’t lie at that moment. Bradley saying your name felt so right. Your name rolled off his tongue effortlessly and you tried to fight back your emotions because you did not want to be catching feelings this early on, if at all. You soon both reached the end of the food line and headed over to a free table. Some of the guys Bradley was with and Ella sat at your table as well and the eight of you spent the meal getting to know each other a little more.

“So, y/n, what kind of activities are you going to be running at camp?” One of the guys named Cameron asks after taking a sip of his water.

“Just general field sports, mostly hockey, but I am signed up to lead the occasional hikes the kids can do. What about you guys?” You say, listening intently to all the replies you receive. Most of the guys were going to be lifeguards, Ella was teaching sewing and crafts and Bradley had just remained silent.

“What about you, Bradley?” Ella asks with a smile, curious about his job within the camp.

“Same as y/n actually. Except I’ll be mostly teaching soccer. But I am doing the hiking thing as well.” Bradley admits with a sheepish smile, a tone and demeanour you didn’t expect from him.

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re starting to get to know each other already then.” You reply with a smile looking over at Bradley as he relaxes a little, smiling back at you.

The rest of the meal flies by and you soon exit the hall with Bradley, Ella, and the others and you all decide to throw around a tennis ball one of the guys who would be teaching tennis had. You tossed the ball between each other, chatting and attempting to distract each other as you all laughed. Soon enough, the sun began to set and many people began to retreat into the staff lounge to spend the rest of the evening with the rest of the staff and to watch a movie together. However, you chose to remain outside, sat on the porch, gently rocking on one of the rocking chairs that sat on the porch and watched the beautiful golden glow illuminate the camp as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

“Didn’t want to come in?” You turn around to see Bradley poking his head out of the door, having noticed your lack of presence in the staff lounge.

“I don’t really get to see sunsets like this. I wanted to appreciate each one while I get the chance.” You admit as Bradley crosses the porch, easing himself down into the other chair and focusing his attention back on you.

“You should see the sunsets where I live.” Bradley mumbles softly, thinking of the sunsets he had grown accustomed to back in Miramar.

“I take it they’re pretty.” You say in response, your eyes still fixed on the horizon and the fading of the sun.

“They’re gorgeous” Bradley says, watching the corners of your mouth twitch up into a smile before you turn to look at him. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until you spoke up again.

“I must admit I’m very jealous that you get sunsets as pretty as this. You never really got to see the sunsets where I used to live. I can only hope when I move and start my new job I’ll have some places to watch the sunset.” You say, trying your best not to let your sadness and anxieties sneak into your voice. You had lived in the same place almost your whole life and recently realised you weren’t doing what you wanted to be doing so uprooting what you knew and moving someplace entirely new was scary. Not to mention working in a summer camp in the middle of it all.

“What’s your new job? If you don’t mind me asking.” Bradley enquires, eyes watching you with nothing but curiosity.

“Teaching. I always wanted to be a teacher and I finally got the chance, even if it does mean I’ve got to handle a big move. What about you? What do you do?” You admit with a chuckle before asking Bradley what he does for a living.

“I’m a naval aviator. I got a good chunk of time off so figured I’d do something worthwhile with my time.” Bradley says, trying not to sound boastful about his job but still wanting to display his pride in his career. He knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth about why he was granted so much time off but he couldn’t do that to you. You seemed so sweet and he didn’t want to dump any of his trauma on you. Before another word could be spoken, you hear the door swing open once more and this time Ella appears.

“Hey, I was going to head back to the cabin to get ready for bed. Wanna come with?” She asks as you nod, standing up and just then realising how tired you were from travelling.

“I could do with an early night. I’ll see you around Bradley.” You say, at first to Ella before directing your goodbye to Bradley, sending him a soft wave and smile as you follow Ella and Bradley watches as you disappear into the darkness that now covers the camp and soon Cameron and the rest of Bradley’s cabin mates emerge from the staff lounge.

“You’ve been out here then?” John asks, having wondered where Bradley was.

“I bet he was out here with y/n. He’s been smitten since he first saw her.” Freddy then says as Bradley rolls his eyes and gets up from his seat, heading back towards his cabin with his cabin mates on his tail.

“Yes, I was out here with y/n. No, I am not smitten.” Bradley says as the boys catch up to him. He was lying of course. Bradley hadn’t been one to believe in love at first sight no matter how much his mother had told him about it growing up. But now he was starting to believe that she might be right.

Meanwhile, you had gotten ready for bed and had clambered into your bed, listening to the sounds of nature just outside your window as Ella got in the bed opposite yours.

“So, how did you enjoy your first day?” Ella asks as the two of you lay back on your beds, staring up at the ceiling.

“It was great. I can’t wait for tomorrow.” You say with a smile despite knowing Ella couldn’t see it.

“It’s good you get on so well with Bradley already. It really helps to get along with the people you are going to spend the most time with.” Ella then says, making you raise an eyebrow at her intentions.

“He’s easy to get along with. He’s a nice guy.” You reply, glancing in the direction of Ella’s bed.

“I bet your crush on him is helping too.” Ella says and you let out a laugh and roll your eyes.

“And on that note, goodnight, Ella.” You say lightly, rolling over and facing the wall as Ella jokingly groans and laughs at your reaction before quieting down and whispering a goodnight of her own. You watch the wall silently, thinking over Ella’s words for a few moments before letting your tired eyes finally drift close.

You couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@noz4a2 @kim-stark

[wolframtheregulator]

Voidgazer Sagittarum [WIP 1]

Making use of a massive amount of long range small arms fire and artillery they clear a path for their champion to deal a coup de grace. These custodes employ precision strikes, a mastery of manipulating spacial anomalies and traveling through the void, and are equipped for long duration extended missions in which they must be able to operate independently. The Sagittarii are celestial hunters, specializing in spacial anomalies and phenomena, be that Xenos or Warp related and go for what they view as the greatest esoteric threats. They are extremely rare with only a handful existing in the Barbatos Divide. Their armor is a dark blue with silver constellations engraved on them, drab in remembrance of their failure to eradicate the Black Jovian Planet Carcosa after their defeat in the mid M30s at the hands of the Tarnished Crown. The Voidgazers believe their mission protects the Emperor and Holy Terra by terminating these monstrous threats before they reach Terra and that in doing so the Shield Host maintains the cosmic balance with each mission a chance to atone for their historic failure.

[grizzersmamma]

One Surprise, Two Surprise | König x F!Reader

Summary: König has been away for months and is eager to get back home to you, only you have a couple of surprises for him. 

Notes: @lethalchiralium​ and their Happiness AU has me out here acting like a broody hen 😭 I’m also a sucker for the trope of “partner goes away for an extended period and comes back to a whole ass baby having been born”, so this is inspired by that too. Absolutely recommend their fics, so go read them if you haven’t already! My family has the twin gene quite prominently, so König gets two babies for the price of one 👉👉

Pairing: König x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy Implied, Infants.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Next: Here

It’s been almost ten months since König has last been home. His deployment with KorTac had been keeping him constantly on the move, constantly taking mission after mission with little to no reprieve. To make matters worse, there had been a strict no-contact rule in place for the entire duration of his deployment thanks to the sensitivity of the missions.  

Ten months, only two short of a whole year without seeing you. Without holding you in his arms. Without so much as hearing your voice.  

It was agonising, knowing that he could have been curled up in your shared bed together rather than trudging from safe house to safe house. He had never known a true longing for home until he’d met you – normally he couldn’t wait to be sent off to some godforsaken forest or desert in the middle of who-knows-where, enjoying the isolation – but now, his skin had begun to feel like it was crawling, searching out the gentle touch you always offered.  

Sleeping was difficult on a good day, never quite feeling safe enough to lower his guard. After spending so much time with you, however, he found his arms automatically trying to seek out your body in his sleep, needing to know you were there for his brain to calm. Sadly, he was only ever met with cold sheets at best, and at worst he would end up grabbing at poor Horangi when they were forced to share a bunk.  

Fortunately, Horangi didn’t seem to care too much, simply slapping at whatever offending limb had slid into his personal space and going back to sleep again. That didn’t stop König from apologising in the morning, relieved when his squad mate would just lazily wave him off.  

But finally, he’d arrived back on Austrian soil, able to take in a deep breath of frigid air the moment he stepped off the plane. It was early afternoon, the sun hitting the snow at just the right angle for it to sparkle. Within a few weeks the ice would all be gone and spring would be in full swing, bringing with it some much needed warmth.  

König pulls his jacket a little tighter in response to the chill, deciding that he’s admired the view long enough and refocusing on getting home.  

He collects his personal items from the locker where they’re housed during deployment, switching on his phone. It’s an old Nokia, used purely for receiving texts and phone calls while working, while his personal one is kept safe at home with you. It takes a while to finally boot up, clinging on with a measly 3% of its battery, but it’s enough for it to load the few messages he’d missed while abroad.  

There are the usual messages, generally wishing him luck, telling him that he was in your thoughts, simple ‘good morning’s and ‘good night’s scattered throughout randomly. The second to last, however, is different from the rest, a request for König to call you as soon as possible.  

His brain is quick to offer up a handful of the worst-case scenarios – maybe you'd gotten hurt while he was away, or perhaps you’d grown tired of his lack of presence and decided to call it quits – but after glancing at the next message he finds himself calming again. The last text was sent just over two months ago, telling him to disregard the previous message and to meet you at his oma’s home when he returned, that you had some sort of surprise for him.  

Odd that you would choose for him to go there rather than the small home the two of you occupied, but König refused to let his worries spiral. You got on well with his oma, much to König’s delight, and she had been a huge help, considering you had no close family living nearby. The moment he had introduced you to his grandmother, the woman immediately decided you were perfect, taking you under her wing as one of her own. She was absolutely delighted to finally have a granddaughter to dote on and pass all of her family knowledge to.  

König had attempted to stop his grandmother from smothering you completely, lest his girlfriend be scared off after only the first meeting, but to his relief you’d told him you already adored the older woman and looked forward to seeing her again. His heart turns into mush every time he sees his two favourite women spending time together. Even if that time is spent with his oma telling you all sorts of embarrassing stories from König’s youth.  

The drive to his grandmother’s house is fortunately rather short, and within an hour of touching down on the runway he’s already arriving. König ensures to remove the simple balaclava he’d been wearing on base, knowing from experience that his oma doesn’t appreciate him “looking like he’s about the rob the place” when he arrives.  

After gathering up his belongings, König gently raps on the glass of his grandmother’s front door. He could hear soft voices inside, but they quiet the moment his knocking rings out, leaving him stood in silence while he waits for someone to answer.  

It’s his oma who opens the door, gasping out his name joyfully, before wrapping her arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug. It’s impressive, really, that a woman of her stature and age is somehow still strong enough to hold him tight enough that all the wind is driven from his lungs. “Hallo, oma,” he smiles, giving her a gentle squeeze in return.  

“Mien lieber Enkle, wo bist du gewesen?!” She demands, pulling back from König, only to grab his hand and begin dragging him into the warm house.  

“Ich war arbeiten,” he mumbles back, but is ignored as his grandmother deposits him in the living room.  

König’s eyes zero in on you in mere moments, unable to resist the soft look that crosses his face, nor the way his shoulders droop. It’s as though a massive weight has been pulled from his shoulders, even more so when you near enough throw yourself into his arms, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck so you can pull him down toward you.  

He meets you in a tender peck which quickly devolves into a more desperate kiss, eager to make up for lost time. It’s only the awareness of where the two of you are that stops König from escalating from loving smooches and taking you right then and there. “I missed you, mein Vögelchen,” he breathes, nosing at the side of your face.  

“I missed you too, mein König,” the grin you give him is nothing short of playful, but that doesn’t hide the clear signs of exhaustion on your face.  

König’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, gently encouraging you to release your hold on him so he can look at you more closely. “Are you alright?” he asks, his gloved thumbs softly caressing your cheeks as he takes in the large bags under your eyes.  

“Your surprise kept me awake,” you laugh, taking König’s hands into your own.  

“Surprise?” He had almost forgotten about the surprise you had mentioned in your text, blinking in confusion, “what kind of surprise would-” He cuts himself off when his oma comes back into the room – he hadn’t even noticed her leaving, too focused on you – his voice flees him at the sight. A tiny little creature is nuzzled into the older woman’s chest. A baby, his brain belatedly supplies for him.  

“Where- Who- Wha-” König blinks once again, unable to process what he was looking at for a long moment. “A baby?” he whispers, breathlessly, his heart racing as he turns to look at you.  

You laugh again at his stunned reaction, gently guiding him closer to the tiny boy. “Say hello to your son,” you smile, watching as he reaches out a hand to caress the infant’s face. His hand is huge compared to the baby and it’s amazing to him that he could ever create something so small and fragile. He’s spilled enough blood in his life that he was certain he’d been stained by it, yet here this child is, completely untainted by the horrors of the world. “His name is Lukas. I remember you saying you thought it would be a cute name,” you add softly, snapping him out of his thoughts.  

He reaches for Lukas, his oma helping him to lift the child from her, showing him exactly how to hold the infant so his head is properly supported. His arms are shaking, despite how light the baby feels, the weight of this new responsibility, this whole new person who is relying on him, leaving him feeling weak at the knees.  

“Hallo, Lukas,” König murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of his son’s forehead. The infant’s little face screws up at the disturbance, eyes blinking open to gaze at his father with the exact same pair of blue eyes. There’s a grumpy pout on the child’s face, but it’s smoothed away with an impressively large yawn only moments later.  

“He’s perfect.” König can feel his throat tightening up, eyes threatening to fill with tears. He supposes that meeting his son for the first time is an understandable reason for crying – there's no need to keep up any appearances here, surrounded only by family – he's more than happy to shed a few tears while he presses feather-light kisses to Lukas’ face.  

Lukas reaches out, placing his tiny hands against König’s cheeks with a curious little coo. He seems to be entirely unphased by his father’s shaking breaths and damp eyes, too focused on the smile he was being offered.  

“I’m glad you liked your surprise,” you say, curling into König’s side and gazing down at your son, “are you ready for your next one?”

König’s head shoots up, staring at you wide-eyed. “My next one?” he chokes out, “y-you don’t mean...”

He sees you biting down on your bottom lip to try and keep the grin from completely taking over your features, unsure if he should be horrified or excited when you turn around and wander into one of the spare bedrooms. “Schatz, no,” he gasps, only able to stand there, gaping like an idiot when you return moments later with a second child in your arms.  

"Keine Chance! There are two of them?!” König’s voice has taken a slightly higher pitch, gripping at the sofa beside him to keep himself from toppling right over. His outburst startles Lukas enough for the baby to whimper, bottom lip poking out and wabbling dangerously. “Ah, sorry, mein leiber,” he quickly shushes, swaying to try and calm his child.  

“Here’s your little girl, Anna,” you coo, bringing the second baby close enough for König to see.  

“Anna...” he repeats, staring down at his daughter in amazement, looking at her pretty eyes, exactly the same as her mother’s. “We have two children, mein Vögelchen,” he wheezes, slowly slipping down to sit on the couch, his legs no longer able to hold him. He knows he told you he hoped to have a family one day, a couple of children and some dogs or cats, but to have two children in one go?  

The realisation hits him like a slap to the face. You had been here alone, carrying not one but two children, and then had to give birth to them. His oma was here for you, of course, but there’s only so much one elderly woman can do to help.  

König should’ve been there to help you throughout the entire process. He should’ve been there when you found out you were pregnant, when you went in for scans, when you found out there would be two of them, and when you found out there would be both a little boy and a little girl entering the world. Instead, he had been overseas, fighting enemies, while you were taking on your own battle by yourself.  

With his free hand, König reaches out to take one of yours, giving it a soft squeeze. “Liebling, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he breathes, pressing your hand to his forehead as he seeks your forgiveness. He would be on his knees, grovelling, if it weren’t for the tiny child currently attempting to reach for his face again.  

“No, none of that,” you shake your head, removing your hand from his grip and instead cupping the side of König’s face, “you didn’t know, there’s no way you could have.” You sit yourself down beside him on the sofa, crowding in nice and close so the two of you can be pressed together.  

He wants to argue, entirely convinced you should be angry at the very least, but now isn’t the time for it, not when this should be a perfect movement between the two of you and your children. So instead, he says, “thank you, mein süßer Vogel,” placing a kiss against Lukas’ head, allowing the boy to hold his finger as he then leans over to kiss Anna. “I love you,” he breathes, finally offering you a kiss.  

“I love you too,” you hum back, staring into his eyes.  

A moment later, Lukas lets out an upset wail, breaking you both from your interlocked gaze. His loud shrieking causes his sister to whimper, awoken from her slumber and most displeased about it.  

“Time for these two to be fed,” you huff, briefly letting the exhaustion catch back up to you.  

König quickly stands, holding out his hand to pull you to your feet. “You can show me how to feed them so I can help, ja?” he asks, eager to take at least some of the work from you. He’s only just returned from months abroad and is tired beyond belief, but this is his responsibility now, and it’s one he is more than happy to take on. He’s already missed almost two months of his children’s lives and he has a lifetime of making it up to you for being away so long.  

No doubt you will disagree with him.  

You walk to the kitchen together, König wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you close.

He needs to discuss what the two of you are going to do going forward, especially regarding his work now that he more important things to concern himself with. There’s no way he’s going to leave for another deployment, not for a good while after this. All he wants to focus on is spending time with his son, his daughter and the love of his life.  

-

Translations

“Mien lieber Enkle, wo bist du gewesen?!” | “My dear grandson, where have you been?!”

“Ich war arbeiten,” | “I was working,”

“I missed you, mein Vögelchen,” | “I missed you, my littlie bird,”

“I missed you too, mein König,” | “I missed you too, my king,”

“Schatz, no,” | “Treasure/Darling, no,”

"Keine Chance! There are two of them?!” | “No way! There are two of them?!”

“Ah, sorry, mein leiber,” | “Ah, sorry, my dear,”

“We have two children, mein Vögelchen,” | We have two children, my little bird,”

“thank you, mein süßer Vogel,” | “thank you, my sweet bird,”  

[the-monkey-ruler]

Alakazam the Great (1960) 西遊記

Director: Yasushita Taiji / Tezuka Osamu / Shirakawa Daisaku Screenwriter: Keinosuke Uekusa Starring: Kiyoshi Kozuyama / Noriko Shindo / Noriko Shindo / Tamachi Kato / Kawakubo House / Wind Festival Ryoichi / Hideo Kinoshita / Setsuo Shinoda / Nobuaki Sekine / Kuniku Takeda / Katsuko Ozaki / Michiko Shirasaka Genre: Animation / Fantasy / Adventure Country/Region of Production: Japan Language: Japanese Date: 1960-08-14 (Japan) Duration: 88 minutes / USA: 84 minutes Also known as: Saiyu-ki / The Enchanted Monkey / The Magic Land of Alakazam / 西游记 IMDb: tt0054265 Type: Retelling

Summary:

One day, an unusual monkey is born from a stone. The stone monkey befriends a fellow monkey named Rin-Rin and is later crowned king of a tribe of monkeys after he proves his courage by diving into a dangerous waterfall. He becomes arrogant as king, much to his subjects' dismay and he grows insecure when he learns about the existence of humans from Rin-Rin, who claims they are the smartest beings around. The stone monkey seeks out a wise hermit and forces him to make him his pupil. The hermit teaches the stone monkey considerable magic abilities and rechristens him Son Goku. Goku shows off his new abilities to Rin-Rin, and to further impress her, goes to heaven to retrieve the sacred fruit the hermit fed him.

In heaven, Goku causes mischief, and overpowers the celestial forces sent after him. He defeats General Kinsei and takes his staff but loses a shape-shifting duel with Jiroshinkun. Goku meets Buddha, who challenges him to fly off his hand, a challenge Goku arrogantly accepts. Goku fails and is imprisoned by Buddha beneath the Five Elements Mountain. Rin-Rin takes care of Goku during his imprisonment as his arrogance gradually fades. When Rin-Rin nearly succumbs to a blizzard, she is saved by Kanon, who heralds the arrival of the monk, Genjo Sanzo, who frees Goku and asks him to accompany him to a pilgrimage to Tianzhu to retrieve a sacred sutra. Goku accepts the mission after Sanzo places an unmovable headband around him that Sanzo can tighten at will.

During their journey, Goku and Sanzo meet a father and daughter. The daughter is pursued by a monster who wants to marry her. Goku disguises himself as the girl and takes her place when the monster, the pig-man Cho Hakkai, arrives that night. Goku reveals the deception, forcing Hakkai to flee for his home, with Goku giving chase. Goku is confronted by Hakkai's half-brothers, Ginkaku and Kinkaku, who trap him in a gourd which melts anyone inside it. Goku escapes, and tries to trap the brothers in their gourd, but he is thrown into a pit with a giant scorpion. Goku narrowly defeats the scorpion and traps the two in their gourd. Goku spares Hakkai when he hears Rin-Rin's voice and allows him to accompany him and Sanzo.

Meanwhile, the imp Shoryu informs his master, Gyū-Maō, about Sanzo’s pilgrimage. Gyū-Maō tasks Shoryu to lure Sanzo and company to his dominion of the Flaming Mountains so he can eat the monk and extend his lifespan. Shoryu attacks the group in the desert, scaring away Sanzo's horse and capturing him. Goku saves Sanzo, though Hakkai accidentally loses their food during the chaos. Later, the group comes across the castle of the man-eating ogre Sa Gojō. Gojō tries to eat Hakkai and Sanzo, but Goku defeats him and convinces him to join their pilgrimage.

When the group reaches the Flaming Mountains, Shoryu turns Sanzo's companions against each other, but Sanzo manages to calm them down. Gyū-Maō causes a volcanic eruption which blocks the group's path. Goku learns about the Basho-Sen, a magical fan owned by Gyū-Maō’s wife, Ratsunyō, which can freeze the lava flow. He and Hakkai disguise themselves as Gyū-Maō to retrieve the fan, but are caught by Ratsunyō, who captures Hakkai while Goku escapes with the fan. Shoryu tricks Goku into giving him the fan by disguising himself as Sanzo, whom Gyū-Maō had earlier captured. Shoryu freezes Goku and pushes him into the lava. Although Goku survives, he is left paralyzed and unable to use his powers.

Gyū-Maō prepares to cook Hakkai and Sanzo for a large feast with his fellow demons. Gyū-Maō betrays Shoryu and traps him in a jar. Goku and Gojō rescue a repentant Shoryu, who gives Goku a healing potion. They rescue the others in time and fight Gyū-Maō and his group. Hakkai freezes Ratsunyō and Goku defeats Gyū-Maō, causing him to fall into lava, which Hakkai freezes with the fan. The group makes peace with Shoryu and travels to Tianzhu, where they meet with Buddha and Kanon. Buddha removes Goku's headband and gives the pilgrims the sutra. They return to China, where Goku reunites with Rin-Rin and his subjects.

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alakazam_the_Great

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydgTTsBixh4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4ytPE0o28Q

[twiyorbase]

Opening a thread to talk about what we'll see in the second season of the animated adaptation of “Spy x Family” about Twiyor, Loid and Yor‼️🕵️‍♂️🌹

Before going into details, let's contextualize a bit. The second season was announced in December, and a teaser was released at the end of the first season. Although its length was not specified, it made it clear that it would cover what is known as the TwiYor Date & Cruise arc.

As of the date of creation of this thread, we haven't received much more information. In May, a couple of posters were released, but that's about it. However, that doesn't stop us from keeping an optimistic attitude.

That said, let's go explore what this second season has in store for us!

TwiYor Date/Twiyor bull-shot date or Misión Extra 2

The first thing we will see is one of the most loved and appreciated chapters within the fandom. It is a chapter that was expected to be adapted in the first season, but it could not be and was left for the second in this chapter, we see that Yor takes a bullet in the butt and due to her annoyed expression, Loid decides to take her on a date. With this premise, a series of events and a rather charming moment between Loid and Yor unfolds. Chapter 40.

Although perhaps considered a transitional chapter and not very relevant, it presents a couple of curious aspects. Although they are immersed in a comic situation, Bond actually contributes a lot to the development of Loid's character, especially because of something that will happen later. Chapter 43.

A chapter that begins with an informative introduction and then develops into a comic situation thanks to Franky and his attempt to win over a girl by retrieving a cat with Yor's involvement, we could consider it a subplot, but it actually lays the groundwork for what would become a full arc.

Cruise arc.

This I believe is the highlight of the second season. It is the first extended arc found in the manga and contains what are considered some highlights. Talking about this arc in relation to each character, especially Yor, would require a separate thread that I could do 👀

A highlight is that this is the first time the family is separated and away from their routine of work, secret missions and Eden. This situation intensifies their feeling of missing each other, which makes for some very tender moments and contributes to the development of each of them.

Special mention to the conclusion: chapter 56. It's another chapter that is beloved by the fandom and encapsulates the heart of the Forger family dynamic ❤️

Chapter 58

This occurs after the closing of the cruise arc. This is a rather extensive chapter starring Loid and Bond where, as mentioned in chapter 40, we can appreciate more sincere moments from Loid both emotionally and in his words. Importantly, the speech includes one of the most touching moments we have had so far from the spy.

For now, that's all. I know that there is a moment missing that is transcendental for Twilight's character; however, we don't know how much it will occupy in the second season nor its duration.

Therefore, I close this commentary based on what I believe will be primarily the plot of the second season.

If anything else needs to be added, I'll be on the lookout to do so!

If you made it to the end, thanks for reading this thread. It would be helpful if you could spread it around or comment to let me know what you think! ❤️

[orangerosebush]

The specific non-reproductive (sterile?) masculinity*** of Butler is something that I find interesting to revisit in the series as an adult. He is the epitome of what a Butler should be -- he even sets a new record for being the youngest graduate from the training program necessary to uphold the family legacy. The relationship that ties the Butlers and Fowls together is at the heart of the primary and sequel series, with Butler (and Juliet) helping Artemis to usher in a new era of prosperity for the Fowl family.

Yet notably we do not see (human) relationships that Butler has that might divert his energy from Artemis/the Fowls -- it is as if the energy that would be directed toward raising an heir is diverted to guarding Artemis. Butler decides to spend some of the last years of his middle age helping Artemis undertake the Mars mission; Butler is unable to create a family outside of the Fowls due to both the constraints of his job and certain tensions created in the narrative. After all, what if Butler were to have a child? What time would Butler have for a family of his own? Who takes precedent -- the heir or Artemis? These are all questions beyond what the books were equipped to confront, so Colfer doesn't try to address them. However, this creates a situation in which Butler is both the platonic ideal of what it means to be a Butler, and the end of the family's legacy by virtue of leaving no heirs. Juliet similarly splits her time between her career and the twins, begging the question of whether the series depicts the end of the Butler family line.

I note also that Butler (and by extension, Juliet) is never mentioned as having a mother or father -- just a deceased uncle. The previous generation is presumably dead, yet of so little import that they get no reference. We have Colfer’s tweets to outline who their parents were, and we have a suggestion of extended family, but these characters never impact Butler or Juliet’s characters or arcs. In the same way that Butler can't be primarily beholden to the next generation of Butlers, there's no previous generation to which Butler has a duty or familial ties.

*** The class dynamics of the Butlers and Fowls -- though the Butlers are technically old money -- make confronting Butler's agency in having desires tricky. Back in the day, a lot of fans assumed (though there isn't a textual basis) that something in Butler's contract required celibacy for the duration of his working years. There is a reason that Colfer really pulls back from the implications of this dynamic after book 1 lol -- the only book (IIRC) where you have Artemis being referred to as "Young Master Artemis" instead of simply "Artemis".

[tactax-art]

Gorgon!Gaz for the #tactax mwii creatures au

Unlike the myths a gorgon can't turn a being to literal stone, but their unprotected gaze will induce a stunned state in most species, though how, effectiveness, and duration vary by species, indivudal susceptibility, and the level of focus a gorgon is putting into freezing their target.

This also applies at reduced effectiveness to recordings and remote viewing. Glasses and mirrors offer no protection. (For example, Humans tend to get stunned by a fear response for minutes to hours. Alb may become hypnotised by the dream-like colorshift of the eyes for as long as they maintain eyecontact.)

To protect those around them specialised glasses and contactlenses have been developed, though minor responses to those easily susceptible are still common.

A gorgon can freely choose the snakes that accompany them which influences their bodies skin, scale pattern and color. These snakes move indepentently from the gorgon, but can be suggested. A gorgon cannot directly access the snakes' senses, but the snakes' observations are intuitively known to the gorgon, giving them a vast amount of information about their surroundings, and a reputation for having 'eyes in the back of their heads'.

Gaz chooses drab, venomous snakes on missions, but prefers snakes with high iridicense otherwise.

Gorgons have exceptional and directional sense of smell (forked tongue + jacobson's organ), sense of vibration, good vision, and hooked teeth or fangs. Gorgons are naturally crepuscular, obligate carnivores (but may snack and supplement as preferred/needed), and cannot thermoregulate for extended amount of times in extreme conditions without assistance. They do not have hair, only skin and scales. Most needs and 'fine tuning' is influenced by the snakes chosen.

[lonestarflight]

Space Shuttle Mission: STS-41-C (formerly STS-13)

The crew assigned to this mission included (left to right) Robert L. Crippen, commander; Terry J. Hart, mission specialist; James D. Van-Hoften, mission specialist; George D. Nelson, mission specialist; and Francis R. (Dick) Scobee, pilot.

Launched aboard the Space Shuttle Challenger on April 6, 1984 at 8:58:00 am (EST). This mission marked the first direct ascent trajectory for the Space Shuttle and used her Orbiter Maneuvering System (OMS) engines only once to get a high orbit, circularize its orbit at 331 miles (533 km). The crew deployed the Long Duration Exposure Facility (LDEF). The crew captured and repaired the malfunctioning Solar Maximum Mission ("Solar Max") satellite. It was extended one day due to problems capturing the Solar Max satellite, and the landing at Edwards Air Force Base, instead of at Kennedy Space Center as had been planned.

The crew filmed their satellite repairs on an IMAX movie camera, and the results appeared in the 1985 IMAX movie The Dream is Alive.

Mission duration: April 6-13, 1984, 6 days, 23 hours, 40 minutes, and 7 seconds

This mission was originally intended to be STS-13.

'The mission's sequence number originally had been STS-13, and it has been rumoured that the entire change in the numbering system for Space Shuttle missions after STS-9 was done to avoid having to fly 'STS-13'. NASA still remembered Apollo-13!! The crew, Robert Crippen, Francis 'Dick' Scobee, George 'Pinky' Nelson, Terry J. Hart and James van Hoften decided to challenge fate and Scobee designed a patch showing symbols of bad luck, such as a black cat, the number 13 and a Shuttle flying from underneath the cat to space. The patch has the crew's nicknames, CRIP, DICK, TJ, OX and PINKY on it."

"Photo taken of the STS-41-C flight crew taken in the aft flight deck of the Challenger while in orbit include (left to right) mission commander Robert Crippen, mission specialists Terry Hart, James van Hoften and George Nelson, and mission pilot Francis (Dick) Scobee. Crew in photos are wearing shirts which read `'ACE SATELLITE REPAIR CO.`'"

In the background on the wall, the crew attached the original patch to a panel.

-Rockwell International's commemorative stamp: link

NASA ID: MSFC-8441775, S84-40925

Patch and info from www.spacepatches.nl: link

NARA: 41C-07-262

[alliddewrites]

A Sweet Welcome Home

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Content disclaimer:

Not proof read lol,

Sexual content,

Likely false military information,

Non-military reader,

Masturbation,

Rough oral (male receiving, basically face fucking),

Cumplay??,

Very needy reader,

Fantasy logic in some places,

Gender neutral reader

Masterlist

Reader discretion advised. You're responsible for your own media consumption.

He's finally coming home tomorrow!

It's been weeks since you've seen him! Simon has been sent off for an important mission he couldn't miss. You didn't know much about it, since it's classified information, other than the time he was going away and coming back.

It was only supposed to be a couple of weeks long, but he managed to get a message to you at the end of the second week. Things went haywire, and the duration of him being away had to be extended.

You were devastated when you received the news. Those two weeks were going to be horrible by themselves, but now it's going to be extended? It sounded absolutely unbearable!

The first few of days you were completely fine. Yes, you missed him. You always do.

Your protective, strong boyfriend who ways took care of you and your needs. How could you not miss him everyday?

After those few days however, you were starting to become needy. You tried focusing on your job more, to take your mind away from him, but it didn't work for long…

All you thought about was him. Everything about him. How he made you laugh with his humor, how loving he is with you, how he takes care of you when he can… how nicely he can pound you into the mattress.

There was a breaking point where you were just constantly thinking about him fucking you. Manhandling you, teasing you, edging you, pleasuring you…

You didn't like getting off without him anymore, but what choice did you have?

You can either ignore your little problem and stay agitated or you can get off all by yourself which won't be as enjoyable as it is with him.

—

Tapping his tip against your lips, smearing more of his precum around on your face. You thought he was leaking gallons of it at this point.

"You won't believe how bad I've been wanting to fill your mouth up. It's been so long…" he said, muttering the last part.

He positioned the head of his cock right in front of your lips. You don't know how, but your arousal just kept growing.

"Open up that pretty mouth for me." he commanded, becoming slightly impatient.

You gladly obliged. Giving a kiss to his dripping tip, opening your mouth slightly right after. When you did open up, you gave it a little lick, then let him take full control.

"There you go, luv…" he said, drawing out the words. When he was past your lips, you encased him with them.

He started slowly easing his cock further into your mouth, holding himself back from absolutely destroying you at the moment. As he went deeper and deeper, you started to struggle due to the lack of activity lately. You tried to let your mouth and throat relax as much as you could, so he could go deeper.

When he pushed about two thirds of the way in, he threw his head back and let out a deep groan, jaw clenching tightly.

Oh how he missed this… Your tight warm mouth wrapper around his throbbing dick, perfectly encasing him…

He started going in deeper after you adjusted to his sheer size. You gagged and teared up a little when he breached the area separating the back of your mouth and throat, but you quickly recovered.

"That's it, baby… You're doing fantastic." he grumbled, his voice becoming strained.

Going even farther, you tried to loosen your throat so he was able slide in easier. The more he pushed, the more tears formed in your eyes. It wasn't painful, just uncomfortable from the lack of use in the past few weeks. Your mouth started to become wetter from all the drool your mouth was making, soon it was slowly dripping out, down your lips, towards your squinted eyes.

When he got as far as he could, he let out a deep moan, stopping and keeping himself there for moment. After weeks of neglect, it felt fantastic for him to finally fill up something tight and warm.

With your eyes rolled back, you waited patiently for him to continue. This was mostly about him this time after all, you had to make this as enjoyable for him as much as you could, and you weren't about to ruin his ecstasy with your impatience.

It felt like you were made for his cock, taking him down your throat so nicely.

After getting used to the long awaited pleasure, Simon started slowly thrusting into you. You could feel the delicate skin and every vein with every motion.

He kept going at this soft and slow pace for a while, holding himself back from overwhelming you immediately. Even with his intense desire to just ravage your throat, he held himself back, for your sake.

After keeping up that pace for a few minutes, he groaned out of frustration. "God damn it…" he panted, full with the urge to go as fast and hard as he can. "You-" he cut himself off, hissing as he pulled himself out of your mouth mostly. "You don't mind if I… speed things up, right, darling?" he basically pleaded, so desperate for that amazing feeling only you were able to give him.

You grabbed onto the back of his thighs, pulling him closer in affirmation, panting for precious air. You let out a sound that's a mix of a hum and a moan, trying to encourage him that you want this just as much as he does.

He lets out a groan cause by both the feeling of your mouth and your eagerness for his cock. "Well… You asked for it." I mumbles out before he continues moving. You could feel his member sliding in and out of your mouth again, his pace steadily increasing.

As he started pounding his cock into you, you let go, letting him take over completely. His pace was absolutely animalistic, now fully focused on himself and his pleasure.

His fat, heavy balls were constantly smacking against your face, smearing the myriad of fluids even more. Thick cock fucking into your mouth and throat at a fast pace.

All you see in front of you through your tears are his hanging, full balls and thick, muscular thighs.

"I haven't gotten off in the past few weeks, so I've got plenty of cum saved up, just for you." he's looking down at your face between thrusts, smirking at you.

Hearing him say that, you were getting even more excited. He's been saving up his semen? The next orgasm is going to be the best of his, and your life.

Your body bouncing back and forth on the bed from the force of his thrusts. He just kept going, chasing his high, impatient to paint your mouth and throat white with his cum. The constant pounding into your face made you dizzy and happy at the same time. You felt prideful for pleasuring him so well, making him so happy and satisfied.

You weren't getting satisfaction in the usual sense, but seeing him so enthralled by your ability to take him, got you off too.

This went on for a while. You kept breathing through your nose every moment you could, while he kept up the rough back and worth motion. His moans only amplified the longer he kept on going.

You felt his hard cock starting to throb even more, saw his balls tighten and you knew he was very close, ready to burst.

Deciding he needed a bit more encouragement, you reached up to his heavy balls and started softly massaging them. The pressure you put on them had him absolutely feral, impatient to finally fill your mouth and throat with his milky, potent seed.

As you started adding a bit more force, you could feel his hard cock throb harder and his fat balls flex more, eager for that mind-blowing release.

With your added ministrations, it didn't take long for him to get there.

He thrusts in completely as he reaches his peak, his heavy, flexing balls squished against your face as he emptied himself into your throat, making you drink down all of his thick, hot seed so you don't choke. The moans and groans coming from him were spectacular, you could tell he's been needing this.

He kept pumping his semen into your mouth and you kept swallowing it. A ridiculous amount came out of his tight, full nuts, he must've been really backed up. He painted your mouth and throat in white, and you enjoyed every second of it.

When he was done emptying his balls, he slowly slid out, shuddering at the last bit of pleasure given by you. Panting, free from your mouth, he rests his now softening cock on the length of your neck, his still heavy nuts resting right in front of your open, drooling mouth.

After you swallowed every last drop, you breathed heavily, mouth hanging open, desperate for that sweet sweet oxygen. As you recovered, you decided to take advantage of this new position.

You stuck your tongue out, giving a light lick to his balls. You heard a gasp of surprise leave his mouth because of your unexpected action.

"You haven't had enough?" he said, voice strained, looking down at you.

You let out an evil snicker, planting a kiss on him. "I appreciate your eagerness, luv, but-" he started, but you interrupted him by starting to suck on his balls and caress the back of his strong thighs.

He shuddered, his cock starting to harden again. "-how about I return the favor, hm?" he hissed out, teeth clenched. He stepped away from you and grabbed your arms, turning you around and sitting you up. You let out a gasp as he laid you down on the bed, now spread out on it properly.

"I think it's about time I gave you a reward…" he lowered his voice, looking at you hungrily.

I started writing this months ago so I'm sorry if it's bad. 😅

[missfrieden]

Tech as a father Chapter 41

Tech thinking he is really logical, infact just an idiot in love. I was thinking if that is typical for him, and in the end with all considered. We all act like total fools when in love.

Masterlist

Chapter 41: Logically subtle

Tech diligently monitored the supplies and ensured everything was organized for the temple's reconstruction. He double-checked his work, meticulous as always, and confirmed that the essential items were readily available for the Jedi and their mission. Before heading back in the Havoc Marauder for a moment.

Afterwards, he took a moment to make himself look more presentable again, adjusting his hair to its usual impeccable state. As he glanced over at Orion, now dressed in warmer clothes, he couldn't resist a soft smile. Tech was keenly aware of the importance of keeping Orion close, and he placed the infant carefully in his carrier, securing him snugly. With the carrier comfortably settled against his chest, Tech moved over to a quiet corner of their makeshift kitchenette and prepared a few formula bottles. His fatherly instincts were as sharp as his technical skills, and he wanted to ensure that Orion would have everything he needed when he woke up. Tech might be a clone, but his dedication to the wellbeing of his son was unwavering.

Tech meticulously inspected the supplies, even though he knew the chances of theft were slim. Hunter's orders were clear, and Tech was committed to following them. He moved through the rows of materials, his attention divided between the calculations in his datapad and ensuring the supplies were secure. And Tech is aware why Hunter told him to do it, without the time to switch his rhythm. Hunter wanted to keep him and Amanda apart, logically it made sense. But that does not mean Tech likes it.

Orion remained peacefully asleep in his carrier, snuggled comfortably against Tech's chest. Tech had removed the upper part of his armour to make it more comfortable for the infant, a small but meaningful adjustment that demonstrated his devotion as a father. As he crunched the numbers on his datapad, Tech considered various factors that could affect the duration of the temple's reconstruction. He factored in the available resources, the number of workers, and the extent of the damage. His analytical mind was always at work, seeking to optimize the efficiency of their mission and provide the best possible outcome. Tech couldn't help but explore every avenue, even as he meticulously checked the machinery used for the temple's reconstruction. His analytical mind constantly sought to optimize processes and find ways to improve efficiency, but today, his motivations were tinged with a more personal desire.

As he examined the equipment, he pondered the possibility of extending their efforts to spend more time with Amanda. The thought of having a few more precious days with her and Orion filled him with longing. He knew it was a selfish wish, considering their duty, but he couldn't help himself. Tech's commitment to his squad was unwavering, but his heart was divided between his responsibilities and his love for Amanda and Orion. As he continued to tinker with the machinery, he couldn't shake the hope that he might find a way to grant himself just a bit more time with them. And it was simple to tweak the machines, making them a bit slower in general. He can always argue, in his logical way, about to delate the wear and tear.

When the sun breaks through, Tech finally passes his brothers, to get some rest himself. Tech carefully cradled Orion in his arms, waking him gently. The infant stirred and yawned, his bright blue eyes blinking sleepily. Tech knew it was time for him to eat, and he was always diligent about ensuring Orion's needs were met. As he settled down in his bunk, Tech prepared the breastfeeding pillow, creating a cosy spot for Orion to nurse. He removed some of the layers of warm clothing he had dressed Orion in, making sure his son was comfortable during the feeding. Tech cherished these quiet moments with Orion, where it was just the two of them. Orion latched onto the bottle, and Tech watched him with affectionate pride. His mind may have been filled with calculations and strategies, but in these moments, all that mattered was the bond between a father and his son. As Orion ate, Tech couldn't help but smile at the tiny, wiggling fingers that occasionally reached out to touch his face. It was a simple, beautiful connection that he cherished above all else.

Tech expertly guided Orion through the post-feeding routine. After burping him gently, ensuring that Orion was comfortable. Then, he gently scooped his son up and placed him on the changing surface. Tech efficiently changed Orion's diaper, making sure everything was clean and dry. He was meticulous in his care for his son, always ensuring that Orion was comfortable and content. Despite the challenges and uncertainties of their lives, these moments of fatherhood were the ones that brought him the most joy and purpose. Orion's tiny hand grasped at his finger, and Tech couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and protectiveness.

As Tech settled back into his bunk with Orion, he couldn't help but dwell on the delicate balance they were trying to maintain. He knew that Amanda should have the opportunity to experience these tender moments with Orion, just as he did. However, the ever present threat of the Kaminoans' suspicions weighed heavily on his mind. Tech was well aware that the Kaminoans were already suspicious, especially given Amanda's close presence. They seemed to be narrowing in on her as a potential mother. The risk was simply too great. They couldn't afford to expose Amanda or Orion to any more danger.

He looked down at Orion, who was now starting to drift back to sleep, his tiny fingers curled around Tech's. Orion succumbing to a full belly nap. Tech couldn't deny that he yearned for Amanda to share these moments with Orion, but he also knew that keeping them safe was their top priority. For now, he would continue to be the one who cared for and protected their son, even if it meant sacrificing moments that should rightfully belong to both of Orion's parents. Tech carefully hung his datapad on a fixture within arm's reach, ensuring it was secure. He had mixed feelings about using a screen to occupy Orion, but given the circumstances, it was a necessary choice. As he activated a technical show, he chuckled at the irony of it all. He, who was often so absorbed in his datapad, was now using it to keep Orion entertained.

With Orion starting to drift back to sleep, Tech couldn't help but think about the night before. Orion had slept peacefully through his watch duty, which was a relief. Now, as he settled Orion down for another nap, Tech began to pre plan for any possible disruptions during his rest. He knew that if Orion woke up, he needed to be ready to tend to his son's needs. Especially as Orion did sleep through the night.

Tech took a moment to glance at the show on the screen, making sure it was engaging enough to keep Orion occupied. Then, he lay down on his bunk, his senses attuned to any sound or movement from his son. Balancing parenthood with their precarious situation was no easy task, but Tech was determined to protect Orion and keep him as safe as possible. As Tech drifted into sleep, he found himself in a comfortable position on his side, one hand resting gently on Orion's little stomach. It was a soothing gesture, a way for him to stay connected to his son even in slumber. The rise and fall of Orion's breaths beneath his touch provided a sense of reassurance that everything was as it should be.

In this tender moment, Tech's mind began to relax, allowing the weariness of their situation to temporarily fade away. His breathing synchronized with Orion's, and for a while, they shared a peaceful sleep, father and son together in their quiet corner of the bunk area. Despite the challenges and uncertainties they faced, moments like these served as a reminder of the bond between them, a bond that Tech cherished more than anything else in the galaxy.

Chapter 42

Reblogs are very welcome and I am open for feedback, as english is not my first language, so maybe my sentences may be weird sometimes, or I write a word wrong even with google, or I use a wrong word for an item.

Tag: @spectacular-skywalker @aalizazareth @neyswxrld @clonethirstingisreal @sleepycreativewriter @moonwreckd

I wish all readers a happy Bad Batch Eve.

[aubadeatelier]

With my first time in ArtFight coming, I decided to make a newer version of this piece since I will be putting Mellicent Hayes as one of my characters!

As I did with the original, I will include a summary under the spoiler for those who want the information without having to read my handwriting.

Immaculate Thuribulum is an Equipment-Type Anti-Akuma weapon which takes the form of a pomander and a thurible/censer. The innocence's accommodator is Mellicent Hayes. Later in the storyline, this innocence evolves into a Crystal Type at a point in-between the Hearst Orphanage Arc and the Artificial Exorcist Arc.

Pomanders are containers holding herbs, spices, and other items with pleasant fragrances. Old beliefs say that disease and other kinds of misfortune come from 'bad' or foul smells. As a result, it became popular to keep around items to ensure an individual would be surrounded by 'good' smells.

Thuribles/censers are containers used to hold incense. Religious beliefs all around the world believed the smoke of incense purified and blessed the surroundings, people, and items touched by them. Thuribles in specific are swung by a chain.

[COMPARTMENTS] Immaculate Thuribulum starts out with 6 compartments to hold assortments of plants and other pleasant smelling items. When every compartment is filled, this gives Mellicent 6 total special use charges. Once out of charges, Mellicent must reload the compartments and undergo a cooldown period until she can regain the charges. An alternative is for Mellicent to use her energy to make up for the charge. This is costly as it requires substantial energy which can cause the accommodator to pass out.

[SPECIAL USES] There are two special uses of Immaculate Thuribulum. In order to engage any of these uses, a compartment's contents must be burned up.

Purging Pellets [Pomander Form only] A pellet is created from the contents of the compartment. This pellet cures Akuma poison as long as the infected individual ingests the pellet in time. The pellet also gives a 30 minute resistance to reinfection.

Purifying Plume [Thurible Form only] Smoke emerges and flows, fueled by the contents of the compartment. This smoke irritates Akuma and Noah. Akuma weaker than the accommodator suffer from paralysis. The smoke also serves as a counter to Akuma gas, protecting those in the area from its negative effects. Allies (ex. other Exorcists) receive a boost in both stamina and resistance when near or in the smoke. (Extra Note. The radius or the duration of the plume can be extended through the usage of more compartments.)

[CRYSTAL TYPE Immaculate Thuribulum] Eventually, during a mission with Allen Walker, Mellicent manages to reach beyond her limits and her innocence transforms into a Crystal Type. With this change comes new significant additions to her skill set.

Sanctity Veil When activated, Immaculate Thuribulum automatically produces smoke which turn into a veil that crowns Mellicent. This veil stays in place on its own. It is far more potent than the smoke of Purifying Plume. It has the added advantage of distorting the perception of adversaries, making it difficult for them to perceive Mellicent. The veil can also be extended and wrapped around allies to give them the same cloaking, but they must stay close enough to Mellicent and the veil to maintain it.

Rosarium Lacrimosa Aside from smoke, Immaculate Thuribulum can now release crimson beads which emerge from the tear-shaped openings in its form. These beads do not need vocal commands and can be moved through the will of Mellicent. The beads wrap around targets and eventually, constrict and crush enemies caught in them. As an added point of offensive capability, the beads burn Akuma and Noah.

[theofficersacademy]

A lone wooden sign stands in the sand, swaying gently in the breeze. Some of its lettering has fallen away, or maybe hasn't yet been finished: ⠀

⠀ 　　⠀⠀THIS⠀WAY⠀TO :⠀⠀𝒜⠀⠀𝒴𝐿⠀⠀𝒟⠀⠀➜

　 Preliminary sign-ups for the 2024 anniversary lore event are now live! Sign-ups will run until 11:59PM EST on July 29th. 　

Event Sign-up Instructions:

All participating muns are limited to one muse each.

Important! Our signup quiz only allows for 100 submissions per month. Out of fairness to others, please be sure which muse you're sending to the event before taking the quiz to avoid dud submissions.

This event will last the full month of August and will call for daily commitment (if not posting, then at least being present in your group's Discord channel). Those who have experienced previous lore events should expect the same level of activity. Please consider this activity commitment when deciding whether to sign up and with which muse.

We will be mixing things up a little this time compared to the past. This lore event will lean less grave than previous ones, though the focus should still be on engaging with the material and building relationships with others. Other features of this event may be different as well. We hope you enjoy it!

Important! Characters will lose in this event. When this happens, they will be removed from the main events taking place and will no longer be part of the spotlight. There will still be ways to participate and contribute, but at this point players will be expected to take responsibility for their own event experience.

If you missed the signup link above, here it is again. Please also submit your muse's inventory here. You must do both of these. 　

Frequently Asked Questions:

We like to give you the fullest picture of the event that we can without spoilers so that you know what you are agreeing to. Here are some questions we have anticipated.

What will the schedule look like for the month of August?

August 1st - 4th: Getting Situated

August 5th - 11th: Week 1

August 12th - 18th: Week 2

August 19th - 25th: Week 3

August 26th - 31st: Week 4

If I sign up now and circumstances change or I overestimated myself, can I drop?

Yes. We will try to make your muse’s exclusion as smooth as possible where necessary. It is highly encouraged to drop if you feel you can no longer contribute meaningfully to your team, as everyone is expected to contribute equally.

If I don’t sign up now but decide that I have time in August, can I join?

No. Once sign-ups close on July 29th, the event roster has been locked.

Do I have to be in the Discord server for the event?

It is required that you join the server for the duration of the event in order to coordinate with your teammates in your team channel. We will also be requiring all rolls to be made publicly with Dice Maiden. You may leave the server after the event concludes if you wish.

If I don’t sign up, what will my muse(s) do?

The Affluence mission board will be extended until the end of August. Unaffiliated characters being part of the mission task board remains a requirement.

We hope to see many of you there!

- House Leaders

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

One Captain's Daughter (Part 2) - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / OC (Amara Blackwood-Mitchell)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Light Angst, Daddy Issues, Arguing, Complicated Family and Relationship Dynamics; Referenced Past Relationship; Romantic Longing; Female OC from Third Person POV

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: It's the first day of training on base and Amara really needs a glass of wine. Rooster tries to talk to her about the past.

Part 1

Master List

Amara arrived early to base the next morning, wanting to make sure that she made a good impression with Cyclone. Because there was no way in hell that her father was. Amara hadn’t seen him that morning, but she was quite sure that he was lurking and ready to strike like he always was with some kind of ridiculous show.

She walked with Warlock towards the empty hangar for the initial briefing. Amara never really understood why they couldn’t simply clean out one of the extra office spaces or conference rooms in a building so that people didn’t have to yell over the planes, but that wasn’t her department.

“Maverick didn’t inform you of his training plans, did he?” Warlock asked Amara, who shook her head.

“No, sir. He doesn’t tell anyone his plans. That would allow them too much time to think,” Amara replied back as her heels clicked distinctly on the pavement. “Or perhaps, too much time to try and stop him.” She paused briefly, sending Warlock a small, apologetic smile. “I did try to tell him to be on his best behavior.”

“I’m sure that Cyclone would appreciate that.”

“For the three seconds that it will last,” Amara murmured knowingly.

She stood to the side next to Hondo, who offered her a pleasant nod in greeting. As Warlock addressed the naval aviators, Amara glanced over the twelve of them. She silently connected faces to names to stats to reports, running through the possible simulations in her head. But when her gaze fell on Bradley, he was already staring at her.

His soft brown eyes were wide with shock and it took a significant amount of control on Amara’s part to regulate her breathing in that moment. Even though they left things off on a bad note the last time, she was still silently drawn to him. And he appeared to be just as drawn to her, if the subtle part to his lips meant anything.

Warlock’s mention of her callsign caused the two of them to break the eye contact.

“Honda was sent here by the Pentagon to make sure that this mission fits within greater US policy in the region. Although she is a military contractor and not an answer, you owe her your respect, unless you want to be answering to the Pentagon.”

Amara nodded in recognition, but did not move to speak. She could feel a number of the aviators turning to look at her. Some it was a quick glance, just to familiarize themselves with her face and move on to the more important details. Though there appeared to be about two aviators that intended to burn her with their laser focus.

One she knew was warranted. Rooster had every right to look surprised to see her standing there in the same hangar. She’d at least had a heads up that he was going to be there, which was a courtesy that was not extended to him.

The other she knew was trouble. She assumed that Hangman recognized her from the bar yesterday because she wouldn’t exactly categorize his gaze as leering. At least the main adjective, anyways, since he seemed like the type to have lingering eyes. But he was also calculating, analytical. Trying to fit her into the puzzle that was this mission.

And if Rooster didn’t look away soon, Hangman was going to connect the pieces there.

“Honda will be here for the duration of our training exercises and will be reporting back to the Pentagon on such matters. So, I would be on your best behavior in front of her for your own sakes,” Warlock added, mostly as a warning to the aviators.

Amara turned when she heard her father’s boots on the ground. She quietly prayed that he managed to not piss off Cyclone or Bradley or anyone for however long the rest of this briefing was supposed to last. But her prayers went unanswered as soon as he dropped the book into the trashcan. Literally. Amara checked her watch.

Two minutes. Maverick lasted two minutes before falling back into old habits.

“And we’re off,” Hondo murmured. 

~~~~~

Amara sat in the ready room and set up her laptop in the corner.

Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy were up first for the dogfight exercise, and something told her that her dad was going to do something . . . well, Maverick-y. She glanced around the room as the other naval aviators lounged about, observing their interactions.

Because her honest job description was naval aviator babysitter/school counselor. 

“Good morning, aviators! This is your captain speaking. Welcome to basic fighting maneuvers,” Maverick’s voice filtered in through the radio. “As briefed, today’s exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5000 feet.”

Oh, how the tables turned, Amara mused to herself. Ice would have something to say about that.

“Working as a team, you have to shoot me down, or else.”

“Or else what, sir?” Payback asked, and Amara swore that she could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Or else I shoot back. If I shoot either one of you down, you both lose.”

“This guy needs an ego check,” Hangman scoffed, causing Amara to glance over at him.

Pot calling the kettle black if she’d ever seen it before.

“Yeah, we’ll see to that!”

Note: cocky naval aviators a few minutes before they get their asses handed to them.

“Sir, what say we put some skin in the game?”

“What do you have in mind?” Maverick questioned, playing along.

“Whoever gets shot down first has to do two hundred pushups,” Payback offered up, causing Amara to shake her head.

Note: naval aviators’ arms at risk of falling off due to running mouths.

“Guys,” Rooster warned over the radio. He was probably the only person aware of what they were getting themselves into with a bet like that.

“That’s a lot of pushups.”

“Well, they don’t call it an exercise for nothing, sir,” Fanboy joked, backing up his pilot.

“You got yourselves a deal, gentlemen. Fight’s on, let’s turn and burn.”

The distressed curses that flew out over the radio a few seconds later had Amara shaking her head. To get to this level, the naval aviators had to be self-assured of their abilities. But sometimes it was nice to see or hear someone bring them back down to earth. Even just for a few seconds. 

The dogfight exercises went on with Amara taking notes, and silently congratulating herself when she correctly guessed who was going to be out first. She tried to simply keep her head down and focus on her work—that was why she was dragged out here in the first place—but she could feel plenty of eyes on her. And the loud scrape of a chair caused her to look up.

And there he was—Mr. Blond, Green-Eyed, Jackass from Texas Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Just her luck.

“Can I help you, Lieutenant?” Amara asked, returning her gaze to her laptop.

“I’m just curious is all,” Hangman drawled, slipping into the seat across from her. “How a lady like you wound up working here for the Pentagon.”

“Is that supposed to be a flattering statement or an insult, Lieutenant?”

“Just making an observation. Like you seem to be,” Hangman continued, leaning forward slightly.

“Making observations is part of my job.”

“Of course, but you seem to be making all the right ones,” Hangman replied, standing up from his seat and walking around the table. Amara followed him with an unimpressed expression before going back to her notes. “Like right here. You wrote that you expected Phoenix and Bob to get shot down first, and you were right.”

“Is there a point to your statement?” Amara asked, sounding bored.

“Simply that you’re very good at what you do, Honda.” He leaned a bit on the table, causing Amara to purse her lips together. “What’s your secret?”

“My secret?” Amara asked, assuming he was referring to her callsign.

“How you’re so good at guessing who’s going to be shot down first,” Hangman translated.

“It’s not a matter of guessing so much as plugging variables into an equation. I do my research, make a hypothesis, which is then tested in the air. Nothing complicated about it, Lieutenant.”  

“And what does your research tell you about me?” Hangman asked her.

He glanced down at the name on one of the files out on the desk—Amara “Honda” Blackwood—and made a mental note of it. He would be checking that later.

“Let’s just say you live up to your callsign, Lieutenant,” Amara stated stiffly.

It wasn’t a compliment, though she knew that he’d take it that way.

“Well, I’m never one to leave a lady disappointed in my performance,” Hangman replied coyly.

“Hangman,” Rooster barked angrily from the couch.

Hangman turned and shot a smirk in Rooster’s direction, who glared straight into his soul. Amara simply rolled her eyes and went back to work, not in the mood for a testosterone display or a measuring contest. That wasn’t her job to deal with that bullshit.

“You’re up.”

“Shame. I was just starting to have a little fun.” Hangman stood up to his full height and turned back to Amara. “I do hope that we have more time to talk later, Honda.”

“Perhaps when you’re done with your two hundred pushups, Lieutenant,” she quipped, not sparing him a glance.

Phoenix and Bob had already headed out while Hangman slowly sauntered away. Amara rolled her eyes and went back to her typing, shaking her head. But when the door shut, she found her eyes meeting Rooster’s again.

The anger and frustration behind his eyes that was directed at Hangman quickly melted away and that same longing and nostalgic look that he sent her back in the hangar returned. And Amara was sure that her gaze wasn’t far off of that one.

They both looked like they wanted to say something but the sound of the door opening again made the eye contact break.

Payback and Fanboy entered the room, talking about tactics for the next run. Rooster quickly got sucked into the conversation and Amara focused on her notes as the radio crackled to life once more. It was a reminder that they were both there to do a job. Not to rehash old shit.

And while Amara did want to talk to Rooster, it was just better for them to stay separate in a professional setting. After all, her very existence was testament to the fact that fraternization between civilian contractors and naval aviators wasn’t without its consequences.

~~~~~

All Amara did was walk up to the control tower for five minutes. That was all she did.

But between the time that she left the ready room and the time that she arrived at the control tower, someone had decided—wrongly, very wrongly—to pair Rooster and Hangman up for the last dogfight exercise of the day. Against Maverick.  

What could possibly go wrong?

She felt like she should have just started the paperwork for an incident report, just in case the inevitable occurred. Especially, because Hangman just had to try and poke the bear. Or rather the rooster, but either way he was looking to get his head bit off about it. But then Maverick was there to interrupt the conversation.

“Just get the exercise done,” Amara silently prayed as she watched the monitors, typing away. “Please just get the exercise done.”

But she knew, in the back of her mind, that would never happen. Because there were three naval aviators in the air with egos bigger than the size of their cockpits and an incessant need to prove a point to the other naval aviators up there with them.

She paused, trying to remember if she bought cheap wine the night before. Either way, she was going to need some when she got home.

“Mitchell and Bradshaw have dropped below the hard deck!” one of the technicians called out.

Cyclone and Warlock turned around, with Cyclone striding across the room like he was ready to send a very strongly worded email to Ice about every little mistake Maverick did today. Warlock approached the monitor slower with a knowing look in his eye.

“How far below the hard deck are they now?” Cyclone demanded gruffly.

“About 500 feet now, sir, but they’re still rapidly dropping.”

“Pull up, dumbasses,” Amara muttered under her breath.

She stood up, watching as two planes—carrying two idiots who, although they were idiots, were still very near and dear to her heart—spiral towards the ground on the monitor.

“Pull up.”

 “They’re still dropping,” Warlock commented grimly.

Amara watched the graphics on the screen with her notes completely forgotten. She didn’t even realize that she had walked up to the bigger monitor with her arms wrapped around herself.

4000 feet.

Her eyes watched the two red dots helix towards the ground in a death spiral, completely ignoring the commands in their ears and warnings that were undoubtedly showing up on their dashes. Her nails dug into her arms as she watched them fall farther towards the ground.

3000 feet.

“Pull up, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered to herself.

2000 feet.

A dip below the hard deck would result in a loss in the exercise and a stern scold and reminder about it before the incident was inevitable pushed aside for the bigger issue.

But Rooster and Maverick were past that point. Death spiraling. At top speed. With no signs of stopping.

“Pull up,” she repeated as a lump forming in her throat.

1000 feet.

“Pull up! Pull up!”

Amara flinched as she heard both Maverick and Rooster gasping for breath through the comms. But a quick glance at the monitor informed her that they luckily hadn’t crashed into the ground and were instead flying along the valley. Rooster was chasing after Maverick, who seemed to have pulled out of the death spiral first.

“Fucking idiots,” she cursed quietly, rubbing the side of her face anxiously.

If anyone else in the room heard her, they didn’t comment on it.

“You got him, now drop down and take a shot!” Hangman shouted over the comms. Amara glanced up to see that Hangman was still hovering above the hard deck, trailing behind Rooster and Maverick from a safer altitude.

“It’s too low!” Rooster argued back.

“Too late, had your chance,” Maverick replied, causing Amara to sigh. And only a few seconds later, the auditory kill noise—Rooster’s—echoed from the comms. “That’s a kill.”

“Dammit!” Rooster snapped.

“Same old Rooster,” Hangman taunted, a chuckle on the edge of his lips.

Amara let out a breath that she wasn’t aware that she was still holding as she returned to her seat. Quietly putting her head down, she went back to work, wanting to avoid Cyclone’s hissy fit as he collected the readings from the last run. No doubt that her father would be getting a scolding about that last maneuver.

Though she didn’t write it down, Amara made a mental note to herself—Don’t put people who can’t talk about their problems in a healthy manner up in flying death traps together.

Fucking hell, she needed a drink.

~~~~~

Amara walked out to her car, eager to get out of her heels and have that drink.

Cyclone, as she expected, was not thrilled about the whole situation, and she assumed that Maverick had an ass-chewing waiting for him in his debrief. But Warlock had assured her that she wasn’t needed for that and dismissed her. He probably took pity on her. And though Amara was typically annoyed with that set up, today she was thankful for it.

But as she turned down another lane of cars in the parking lot, Amara paused when she spotted Rooster walking towards her. She stutter-stepped to a slight halt while Rooster looked like his shoes just spontaneously melted into the ground.

So much for a quick getaway.

“Hey,” Amara called out softly, adjusting her hold on her bag.

“Hey,” Rooster returned in the same tone.

They stood silently in the parking lot, as if they had both spontaneously forgotten how to interact with another human being in the last five seconds.

“How’re your arms?” Amara asked awkwardly.

“My . . . arms?” Rooster repeated, looking confused.

“From all the pushups.”

“Oh . . . right.”

“Right,” Amara echoed, nodding in confirmation.

“I . . .” Rooster began, causing Amara to straighten up a bit. Hope that she would later scold herself for bloomed in her gaze before promptly dying off when Rooster continued with, “I didn’t think that you would be here.”

“Oh . . . yeah.” She looked down at the ground, clearing her throat. “But, uh, I just go where the Pentagon sends me,” Amara replied, shrugging her shoulders as she met his gaze again. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I just . . .” Rooster fumbled for an answer, clearly struggling, “. . . didn’t expect you to be here.”

“You said that already,” Amara reminded him, causing Rooster’s cheeks to go pink.

“Right.”

“Right,” Amara murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her best efforts. Well, at least she wasn’t the only one who seemed a little uneasy in this situation. “I suppose that I probably should have given you a heads up that I was in town.”

“No, no, it’s . . . you don’t owe me anything. And everything with you tends to be classified anyways.”

“. . . Yeah,” Amara agreed, shifting her weight on her feet. “Look, can we . . . I’d rather . . . can we just put all of our personal shit to the side?” Amara sighed, meeting his gaze again. “There’s enough shit going on right now and I’d rather just get the job done and done right. Can we agree on that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Rooster replied immediately.

“Good,” Amara breathed out, nodding slowly. She glanced over at her car before turning back to Rooster. “Have a good afternoon, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

Amara started for her car as Rooster blinked, frowning at her formality and cut and run tactics.

“Lieutenant Bradshaw?” Rooster repeated back, clearly a bit taken aback and even a little hurt.

“Would you prefer me to call you Rooster?” Amara asked, pausing in her quick escape.

Amara did not share a fondness for the use of callsigns outside of work. Sure, it was part of the field and a rite of passage and very important to aviators, but honestly, all it reminded Amara was the fact that naval aviators never took themselves out of the field, out of the cockpit. They were always naval aviators first and everything else second.

Which made her the only person to call Rooster ‘Bradley’ in the last decade or so.

“Are you mad at me?” Rooster asked her, causing Amara to pause.

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?” Rooster questioned, sounding exasperated.

“Bradley,” Amara stressed. She looked around to see if anyone else was lingering in the parking lot. “What do you want me to say?”

“Maybe just answer the question that I already asked you,” Rooster suggested, as if it were obvious. “Are you mad at me?”

“A little, alright?” Amara conceded. “You happy?”

“No, I’m—” Rooster cut himself off with a sigh, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry about how I handled everything back then.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Amara interjected, holding up a hand. “I’m not going to have that kind of conversation here where anyone could hear us and where we’re supposed to be professionals in our shared workplace.”

“I’m trying to apologize.”

“And I don’t want to hear it right now, okay?” Amara replied, sending him a look to stop talking. “If you want to talk about what happened, then we can talk, but not here. I’m not having that kind of conversation in the base parking lot that our coworkers walk through.”

“Are you free tonight then?” Rooster suggested, trying to salvage the conversation.

“I’m meeting up with my dad tonight.”

She watched Rooster go through the five stages of grief before his gaze hardened like it always did when her dad was brought up. It was just another reminder of why her and Bradley were not a good mix, a safe bet, or a winning idea. There was too much history, and not enough happiness to drown out the pain apparently.

“Tomorrow?” she offered him.

“Tomorrow,” he agreed softly.

“Until tomorrow then . . . Bradley.”

Amara turned around again and headed towards her parked car. Rooster watched her go for a moment before his eyes flicked up to see Hangman staring at them with a curious stare. At Hangman’s presence, Rooster suddenly understood why Amara wanted to flee the scene and moved to do the same. 

Tag List:

@xoxabs88xox

If you want to be added to the tag list, reply or reblog with a comment about it. However, you must have a reference to your age in your bio/pinned post/somewhere easily findable that identifies you as an adult to be tagged. Thanks!