#Hideaway Springs

[sandythereadingcafe]

REVIEW TOUR

THE RUINED (Hideaway Springs 2) by Roxanne Tully at The Reading Cafe:

'a wholesome, spicy summer read'

[practical-hearthcraft]

[aweina]

ᥫ᭡. stay quiet , tomas vrbada ( 17 + )

tags gn reader. slight exhibitionism. quickie in public. heavy petting. submission. blowjob. + 742 words.

“here?”

“here.”

tomas wearily looked down the long hall, echoed grunts and heavy punches became white noise with each soft kiss and dirty whisper that came out of your mouth. he’s completely red in the face, panting rather pathetically — it was embarrassing.

for you to put him in this state was impressive, not even his grueling training with kuai liang or bi-han could make him this vulnerable.

he’s a hunter, lin kuei. this should not make him weak.

but one thing for sure, tomas gives in too easily — for you, only you.

your nimble fingertips brushed against his bicep, dragging toward his racing pulse point. tomas squirmed at your teasing touches, making you grin in victory. with balmy lips, you feverishly kissed along his jawline, mouthing down on his neck that was marked with faint bruises from your past hideaways. flattening your tongue on his skin, the taste of sweat and smoke makes you hazy with lust.

your lewd display and the feeling of your tongue left tomas steadying himself as he clawed at the wooden walls, his quivering lips paralyzed by his teeth. everything around him became blurry, only your touch and delicate voice filled his senses. it felt good, he’ll admit. it’s only until your saliva-coated lips and wandering hands depart from his body that he becomes alert of his surroundings.

bi-han’s rumbling voice repeating demands and in unison, young voices followed by the sound of fading footsteps left tomas even more frightened.

training was over.

as his attention was elsewhere, you completely sunken on your knees — dusting off the grime and smoke particles off his pants. with a swift hand, you tugged down the pleated garment, tracing your lips at the display of his strong thighs — his skin littered with healed cuts and the occasional freckle. immediately, tomas looks down at you and begins to panic even more.

“please– w-wait a minute.” he pushes you away with a firm grip on your shoulders, furrowing his brows at your offended expression.

he never meant to be that rough with you, but he was desperate to not get caught, especially by the grumpy grandmaster.

“if bi-han catches us, we could be–“ his poor attempt to convince you gets caught in his throat when your hand brushes against the painfully obvious tent along his briefs.

you mentally laughed at the feeling of his nails digging deeper along your shoulder as you rubbed agonizingly slow over the imprint for a few seconds, listening intently to his muffled whimper. you then finally released the hot, tight confinements that his cock was subjected to.

springing to life, his hardened cock nudged your cheek as it pulsates — tip flushed with a bright red as it oozes sticky precum. with each involuntary bob, beads of precum drop on the matted floors, staining your clothing in the process.

it was so pretty, you thought.

tomas tries to swallow a groan, but it spills out his lips and echoes through the quiet hall. he presses his sweaty hands between his back and the wall, shutting his eyes out of embarrassment and the fact is he opens them, all the lecherous thoughts he held back could pour out of his mouth from the sight before him.

you gave his cock an experimental pump as you gently pressed your mouth against his leaky, hot tip to test the waters — licking off the arousal that glazed your swollen lips. tomas leans his head back, exhaling a large amount of air through his nose.

“i promise he won’t find out.” you firmly whispered, loud enough for him to hear you from his position — confidence written all over your gleaming eyes.

tomas knew you were telling the truth, he always trusted your judgment.

although he was still shaken by bi-han’s lingering presence across the long hall, tomas nodded with certainty. this isn’t the last time the both of you successfully sneaked off either, why would this be the last?

releasing his hands from the makeshift restraint, he threaded his fingers sweetly through your hair until he tugged at your scalp with gentle force.

“i’ll be quiet then, promise.” tomas whispered back, a hint of teasing in his declaration.

you smirked up at his sudden act of assertiveness and let his firm grip guide your mouth down onto his cock.

© aweina : please do not copy, repost, or modify any of my content.

[violetsiren90]

Beacons Ashore

(A What the Moon Saw Drabble)

Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader (What the Moon Saw universe)

Genre: drabble; non-idol AU; friends to lovers; childhood friends; new friendship; angst and fluff; Yoongi POV

Summary: A few months after first stumbling across you in his favorite spot, Yoongi finds himself at the hideaway ledge on a night in March.

Content Warnings: PG, but ALL my content is off-limits to minors; minor injuries and allusions to domestic violence; allusions to minors smoking cigarettes; sad birthday boy; first aid; sweet beginnings

Author's note: Just a quick birthday drabble in honor of Yoongi and my favorite fic couple. It's exactly 1000 words! Short and sweet. A Yoongi POV. 💕

If no one has told you yet today, you are loved and worthy of love! Yoongi certainly loves you, and I do too! 🧜‍♀️💜

The moon watched Yoongi shift impatiently where he sat.

    He wasn't waiting for you.

    This was his spot, after all - you had stolen it. Intruded. You kept insisting that it was very possible that you had in fact found it first, and that the both of you had simply never retreated to the little nook in the cliffside on the same night until that night, last year, but Yoongi found the notion highly improbably.

    It wasn't that he would ever complain that you were now part of his nightly reprieves more often than not. You weren't noisy or bothersome, and always brought cozy blankets and oatmeal crème cakes you were willing to share. You were easy to talk to, when there were words, and when there were none, your silence was easy as well - a peaceful companion in the darkness like the crash of the waters below.

    It was a Tuesday, and you were always here on Tuesdays. Your mother was gone playing bunco and your father was...working late. Yoongi shifted again where he sat, tossing a pebble over the lip of the ledge. He hadn't been able to lift any cigarettes tonight, not after the incident with the soup. His stomach rumbled. Yoongi held himself around the middle and stared out at the water shimmering under the chilly, pale yellow light of the March moon.

    He wasn't waiting for you.

    He wasn't.

    And then little scuffling noises from above found him springing to his feet and leaning over the railing to see you tottering down the steps wearing a backpack and carrying a flannel blanket in your arms that nearly obscured the front of you with its bundled mass. Yoongi hopped over the rail and trotted up the stairs to take the blanket and the backpack while you clambered over the railing to reach the ledge.

    You were so tiny that you had to drop to the ground after pushing your tummy off the bar. It made Yoongi smile to himself. He wished you weren't so cute, like a tiny little bear in your puffy coat and Ugg boots. If you weren't so endearing he could begrudge you for setting up camp in this little corner of his life.

    Yoongi didn't let people in, it was easier that way. People thought they wanted to get to know him, sure...but people always overestimated themselves. People were soft, ignorant idiots who recoiled when they discovered the ugly, messy truth his life, quietly excusing themselves from his association thereafter.

    That's why when you asked him what had happened to his hands, he lied.

    "I fell."

    It wasn't exactly a lie. He had fallen. When his mother had shoved him out the door and locked it behind him, screaming for him to go, to run, while she took the blows meant for him, he had fallen.

    Your eyes dropped to his scraped knees. Yoongi tucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The innocence of your knitted brow seemed to ask why he was always bleeding. Under his jacket the soft skin of Yoongi's tummy burned from the scalding overturned bowl of seaweed soup. Suddenly, he wanted to run away - but he was already where he'd end up if he did.

    You watched Yoongi's eyes dart over your face. You watched his foot scrape back over the stone of the ledge. You huffed and stuck your legs out in front of you in a little V, pulling your backpack into your lap. It was almost as big as you were.

    Yoongi's heart squeezed in spite of the pulse rushing in his ears.

Cute. Damn it.

You plunged your arm in past the zipper of the bag and pulled out a little white box, setting it between your legs and glancing back up at him to pat the ground beside you. Yoongi raised an eyebrow skeptically, but you tilted your head to the side and raised your own brows in a way he had quickly learned meant he better just cooperate.

    He sat down beside you, his back to the cold rock and his knees drawn up to his chest. You shoved your backpack aside and skootched in next to him, cracking open the plastic lid of the box to reveal the contents of a first-aid kit. Yoongi's heart squeezed again.

    You peeled open an alcohol pad and warned that it would hurt. He scoffed, then clenched his jaw to keep from yelping when you gently patted the cool wet pad over the bloodied knees peeking through the rips in his jeans. Then you pursed your little lips and leaned in to blow on his skin. What on earth that was supposed to do to help Yoongi hadn't the faintest notion, but he did know that your small, gentle touches were taking up enough space in his mind to push away everything else.

    You stretched a bandage over one knee. It was white with bright pink hearts and tiny pictures of Hello Kitty. Absolutely garish, and the sweetest thing he had ever seen.

"It's my birthday," Yoongi blurted out, surprising himself with his own words.

    You drew back and blinked at him.

    "I..." he mumbled, reaching for something to justify the sudden revelation, "I'm thirteen."

    You turned away to rummage in your bag again. Yoongi was kicking himself for being such a weirdo, and he stood again to go, when you turned back with something in your hands. You looked up at him with a silly grin, holding an unwrapped oatmeal crème cake with a Q-tip from the first aid kit stabbed like a candle in its soft center.

    "Got a light?" you asked, teasingly.

    He reached out and gingerly took the little confection in his battered palms, pulling a weathered Zippo from his jacket pocket.

    The moon watched as he lit the the little cotton swab.

    It watched him shush you as you tried to sing to him then mush the snack cake against your face when you wouldn't stop.

    From far up and away in the cold March sky, the moon saw Yoongi begin to glow at your side - long after the make-shift candle had been blown out.                                                                                                                           

-Fin-

[lenavaz]

WHO: Elena & OPEN!

WHERE: Hideaway Market

WHEN: spring, 2024

The sun was finally showing -- and thank goodness for that. Growing up in Maine meant that you had a certain understanding: it was going to be cold much longer than it had any right to be. But once that sun came out, everything changed. The grass seemed thicker, more lush, the trees were blossoming, and everyone just seemed... happier. Elena, included, as she dropped down to sit on one of the benches in the Hideaway Market center, in front of the fountain they had just got running again. Tilting her head back, she let out a warm, content sigh at the feeling of the sun's rays on her skin, speaking to the person next to her. "Can't tell me that doesn't feel good, hm?"

[demifiendrsa]

FINAL FANTASY XVI DLC Trailer - The Rising Tide

Japanese version (with multi-language captions)

Leviathan abilities gameplay

Leviathan The (Not So) Lost Is Here | FINAL FANTASY XVI PAX East 2024 Panel

“The Rising Tide” DLC for Final Fantasy XVI will launch in Spring 2024. An Expansion Pass including both add-ons can also be purchased for $24.99.

Latest details

■ The Rising Tide

Introduction

An unmarked letter arrives at the hideaway containing a request most curious: the Dominant of Leviathan, long lost Eikon of Water, is in need of rescue.

To heed this call, Clive and his companions must journey to Mysidia—a hidden land under a blue sky—where they will uncover the tragic history of a forgotten people.

Ifrit vs. Leviathan

A New Ally: Shula

An invaluable ally on Clive’s journey to rescue Leviathan’s Dominant.

A New Area: Mysidia

Deep within a sea of darkness, sanctuary exists for those who know where to look—a lost oasis untouched by the ever-encroaching Blight. It is beneath her emerald boughs that both man and beast have found their final haven.

What’s Up with the New Tonberries?

New Abilities: Leviathan

Tame the tides and drown your enemies both near and far with the terrible might of the Eikon of Water.

—Leviathan’s Eikonic Feat: Serpent’s Cry

Summon onto Clive’s off arm a sea-spitting serpent capable of attacking enemies at great distances (using Triangle and Square).

New End Game Content: Kairos Gate

Unlock this challenging new mode after completing both “The Rising Tide” and the main game scenarios.

Fight your way through 20 stages, each one growing more difficult.

Earn points during battle and use them to upgrade Clive. Maximize battle performance to earn more points.

Find new materials and weapons at the end of each stage.

Aim for a spot on the global leaderboard.

But That’s Not All…

After obtaining the power of all the Eikons, something happens to Clive…

■ Free Update Version 1.30

Return to a quest giver immediately with a new “Quick Complete” function.

Icons updated for important character quests.

New Skill Set feature allows you to save up to five unique Feat and Ability sets.

Abilities and Accessories adjusted to make easier to use.

New controller type allows for customizable button layouts.

Tone correction, screen effects, and more added to Photo Mode.

Approximately 40 new orchestrion rolls added.

■ Collaborations

Final Fantasy XIV Online

Final Fantasy: Brave Exvius

Final Fantasy XVI is available now for PlayStation 5. A PC version is currently in development.

[divanthesimmer]

The Sims 4: Medieval Save

Hear ye! Hear ye! The Medieval Save is finally here!

This has been an ongoing project which many Simmers from all across the world were apart of and we turned nearly 19 worlds from the game into medieval kingdoms. I've always been a fan of medieval fantasy as well as The Sims Medieval and so this save was born.

A few things to take note of:

* Due to the previous placements of some lots in destination worlds, a bug caused them to became unplayable. It is now fixed (as well as a few other things) and I kindly ask you to re-download the save and delete all previous versions (uploaded before 13 March 2023).

* This is not meant to be a historically accurate save and not all worlds can be considered "medieval". For example Oasis Springs was turned into Ancient Egypt and StrangerVille was turned into a Native-American world and there are many fantasy creatures in the save. Also, The Sims is a very modern game and we had to work with what we have. I guess it would've been more accurate to name it Historical Fantasy Save or something along those lines, but the main theme has always been medieval.

* It requires nearly all the packs and is quite a big file. I didn't want to restrict people's creativity and we don't have many medieval looking items in the game. I recommend lowering your graphics if you have a lower end PC and note that you might have many bald, nude Sims and missing build objects if you're missing packs.

* It doesn't add any new gameplay, though it could change how you play the game. Almost all modern appliances are removed and most lots are off-the-grid. This is not a mod and thus I couldn't add things like swordfighting or things that would make the save more immersive. Luckily there are many mods out there that could help with that.

* Some Sims with royal titles have longer names and editing them in CAS will force you to shorten their name. If you wish to edit them, you can shorten their name in CAS and just re-add their titles with MCCC in live mode.

* NPC Sims/townies will continuously spawn with modern clothing by the game's design. You can either delete them as they spawn, give them medieval makeovers or edit them in CAS and replace them with medieval Sims from the Gallery. There are some tutorials on YouTube which could help with this, like this video by KatsCorner: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPsxmGk92M4

Worlds included in this save:

Fairdells, previously Willow Creek:

A magical kingdom home to elves, gnomes, fairies and several magic-wielding races.  Ruled by the tyrannical King Taranath, the future of this once-peaceful kingdom looms in the air. Architecture includes elven palaces, treehouses, dwarf villages and more.

Egypt, previously Oasis Springs:

The ancient kingdom of Egypt ruled by Queen Cleopatra of the Ptolemaic dynasty. It includes pyramids, palaces, temples and more.

Wood Grove, previously Newcrest:

An extension of Fairdells home to dryads, elves, gnomes, ogres and other races. It's a more "foresty" area than Fairdells and includes swampy ogre homes, mushroom homes and lots more.

Windenburg:

A kingdom ruled by the royal Von Haunt family. After the King's death, his young son took his place on the throne, but has much to learn and is ruled by his mother, the Queen. Includes typical medieval architecture like castles, inns, peasant homes and more

Pirate's Cove, previously Brindleton Bay:

A hideaway for thieving pirates and cutthroat buccaneers. Includes pirate nests, ships, inns and more.

Mermaid Isles, previously Sulani:

This kingdom has always been home to both men and merfolk. Recently pirates have invaded and everyone is at war. Includes pirate ships, a mermaid castle, an inn and more.

Chihuahuan, previously StrangerVille:

A desert home to indigenous Native-American tribes. Includes an adobe village, tipis and the infamous Pit of Judgement!

Mt. Komorebi:

An ancient Japanese kingdom home to Japanese farmers and Samurai warriors. Includes onsens, Samurai training grounds, villages and more.

The Swamp of Terror, previously Evergreen Harbor:

A ruined region home to those shunned by society - beggars, thieves, ogres and more. Includes an orphanage, ruined buildings, ogre swamps and more.

Glimmerbrook:

A magical kingdom home to all spellcasters and is ruled by Lady Ravendancer Goth. Includes a castle, library, inn and more.

Britechester:

Built and ruled by the royal Landegraab family, this kingdom is home to scholars and those who wish to learn about history and dragons among other subjects. Includes a castle, student housing, libraries and more.

Selvadorada:

A lost kingdom which includes several inns, temple ruins and more. Many travelers go here to search for hidden treasures and discover ancient secrets.

Nordhalla, previously Granite Falls:

A Viking settlement home to Vikings as well as werebears. Includes Viking homes, a stave church, werebear hideouts and more.

Forgotten Hollow:

A kingdom home to creatures that dwell in the night. Ruled by Count Vladislaus Straud, it's a haven for all vampires, but vampire hunters have recently arrived and things are about to get messy. Includes vampire castles and temples, vampire hunters headquarters and more.

Henford-on-Bagley:

A rural kingdom home to many farmers and their animals. Ruled by House Llamaryen and a place where fairytales come to life. Includes a castle, farm homes, a village shoppe and more.

Guild Centre, previously Magnolia Promenade:

A small shopping centre which includes an inn, tavern, market and apothecary. Travelers from all kingdoms go here for their shopping needs.

King's Valley, previously Del Sol Valley:

Home to some of the most prominent Sims accross all kingdoms, such as the Emperor, his most trusted advisors and high ranking priests. Includes castles and a sept.

Tartosa:

A kingdom surrounded by the Mediterranean sea. Home to the legendary Princess Cordelia and the royal Thebe family. Includes castles, pirate ship, a peasant village and more.

Moonwood Mill:

A village home to lumberjacks, mooncasters and MOOcasters. Includes a lumber mill, peasant village, cowplant farm and mooncaster hideout.

Credits:

Thank you to josh_se_oh for the amazing cover render and KawaiiFoxita for the beautiful build screenshots. Also thank you to everyone for your support as well as everyone who contributed to the save! All builds and Sims created specifically for the save can be found under #divanmedievalsave on the Gallery.

Please tag me with screenshots and videos if you intend to play the save!

Download on Patreon (100% Free)

[perfectsunlight]

(𝟐𝟑) - 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

“what do you think my stage name should be?” jimin asked as she leaned against the trunk of the tree. the summer air blew a soft breeze through the leaves that rustled against the branches. “hm,” your brows furrowed, deep in thought with your head laying in your girlfriend’s lap. “what about doing a season? minjeong is doing winter.” a snicker left your lips as you grinned up at your lover. “you could be spring.”

the raven haired girl rolled her eyes playfully. “too cringey.” you hummed in agreement before poking at a dandelion growing in the grass. with a small tug from the ground, you brought it in front of your face to admire it. jimin noticed something in the distance had caught your eye, and suddenly your eyes widened in realization.

“what about karina?”

your gazes met and the wheels in her head began turning like yours were. a small smile graced her lips as she blew the dandelion that was in your hand. “it sounds pretty. what made you come up with that?” she asked as she watched the dandelion fuzz float off into the distance. 

the morning sun shone a generous amount of light to the bush area you were pointing to as you spoke. “signet marigold karinas.” you motioned to the golden flowers that were in bloom across the green brush. “they’re pretty, and they remind me of you.” a faint blush appeared on your cheeks once your girlfriend’s eyes met yours. comfortable silence settled in between the two of you for a few moments.

even in the shade of the oak tree, the morning sun still seemed to illuminate your eyes in a way that no other force of nature could. jimin’s hair fell over her face as she leaned down and pressed her lips against yours. she could feel your eyelashes fluttering shut as she moved her mouth against yours. the kiss was soft and sweet, almost delicate. and even thought it only lasted a few moments, it always felt like time stopped when she kissed you.

“karina huh?” she whispered once she pulled away. “i love it,” her lips met yours once more in a chaste kiss as you cupped her face and pulled her in again. “and i love you.” 

jimin blinked and pulled herself out of her thoughts as a chilly breeze blew past her. the oak tree in front of her was now barren with no leaves. she couldn’t help herself from remembering the last time she was here with you the summer before debut. now, here she stood in the february cold waiting to see you. even though it was almost march, the lingering winter air was still cold enough to make her bundle up in layers.

she quickly glanced at her watch. 11:55 am. you were going to be here any moment. however, the aespa member had been there for the past hour already. she didn’t want to be late, not even by a mere minute. 

meeting somewhere in public would have been easier, but she didn’t want anyone, not even dispatch, ruining the moment you two were about to have. which was why karina decided to meet up somewhere only you two knew about. there weren’t a lot of places the two of you could go as trainees, but this hidden tree and the flora around it was only a 15 min walk from the dorms. the first time you two found it was when jimin got lost trying to find directions to a nearby park. however, your own secret hideaway was deemed a much better find than some busy park.

your initials were actually carved into the base of the tree. it was a written testament to your relationship, as well as a secret promise to have a strong love; stronger than the massive oak tree that stood before her.

j + y/i

the engraved letters seemed to look into her soul as she stared at them. the aespa member ran her hand across the letters, wiping the bits of dirt that had accumulated in the grooves. 

“they’re still there?” 

her head whipped around in the direction of your voice. there you stood, bundled up just like her, and with both of your fists shoved into your jacket pockets as you motioned towards the letters on the wooden body of the tree. jimin straightened up, nodding slowly before fully turning to face you.

“i figured we’d meet somewhere private.” she explained as she noticed the faint tint of scarlet on your nose and cheeks. the walk up here wasn’t the easiest, especially in this weather.

your head moved up and down in understanding, “i see.” karina exhaled through her nose, the vapor from her breath dancing in the cold wind. she felt nervous. she thought she had it all planned out in her head, everything she was going to say and do, but it was all going out the window at this very moment.

she could tell you were more on the defensive side, despite being the one to suggest meeting up and speaking. however, she couldn’t blame you either. her hands moved in front of her body, folding them across her chest as she looked down at the frozen ground. 

a beat of silence passed between the two of you, however it was not like the comfortable silence that was felt all those years ago. this silence was heavy, cold even. it loomed with uncertainty and she hated that. 

swallowing the lump in her throat, she opened her mouth to say something.

“i’m sorry for-”  “i wanted to talk about music bank.”

the older girl’s chest tightened as you cut her off. oh. you didn’t want to talk about feelings or anything of the past. you were truly here on a business errand.

even though she already assumed it, she didn’t understand why it still hurt her heart.

your stare remained glued to the same spot on your shoes as you kicked at the ground beneath you. 

finally, you looked up at your ex-lover and met her gaze. you took a deep breath before explaining. “i don’t want things to be awkward on screen.” you began, biting the inside of your cheek before continuing. “for our sake, and the sake of our groups, we need to find a way to be professional enough to make this work.”

professional. was that your relationship now? karina couldn’t hide the small disappointment at your choice of words as her own thoughts began brewing. she knew she had no right to feel disappointed, but she couldn’t help it. 

even now, you meant more to her than just some apparent business partner, even if that was all you would see her as.

she nodded slowly, doing her best to mask her ever growing disappointment. “how do you want to do this then?” jimin timidly asked, a bit anxious as she anticipated your response. 

your shoulders slumped forward, a small frown etching onto your face. truth be told, you didn’t have that part figured out as much as you wanted to. unfortunately, this was something the two of you needed to figure out together.

“i haven’t thought that far out yet.” you admitted, sighing as your eyes met hers once again. your breath hitched in your throat once your eyes met her midnight hues. 

they were still just as alluring as the last time you were this close to them. if anything, they looked more mysterious than ever, and you feared that if you took even one more step closer you would fall into her trap.

karina’s gaze softened. she knew this was hard for you especially, but she hoped that resentment no longer lingered in your heart when she looked at you. she hated herself for leaving you, so shouldn’t that amount of self loathing suffice?

“we can just be friends.” the leader suggested, a small half-smile adorning her lips. the idea didn’t seem too bad in her mind. the two of you could make amends better that way.

a chuckle escaped your lips and danced through the air in the form of vapor. your response left your mouth without you even thinking fully.

“we aren’t friends, jimin.”

you even surprised yourself, not expecting that type of reply to come from you. maybe these wounds weren’t as closed as you thought they were. 

karina’s face faltered, an undeniable look of disappointment danced its way onto her features. “i know we aren’t, y/n.” she whispered, masking the hurt in her voice as she cleared her throat. “i was only suggesting we act like it.”

a nod from your head signaled your approval. this was the only way things would work. and even if it hurt, you needed to suck it up and power through. for the sake of your group, as well as yourself.

“on camera and on stage we can act like friends. once that is gone, we don’t need to do anything else.”  your answer made jimin’s heartbeat falter for a moment. as much as it hurt her to now know you truly wanted nothing to do with her, she could only agree to your boundaries.

if you could even call them “boundaries” in the first place anyway.

the SM idol nodded. “okay. acting as friends it is, then.” your hum was the only sign of approval you gave before checking the time on your phone before shoving it back in your pocket. you poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, slowly turning back to go down the small hill. 

“i should get going.” your soft sentence and the way you already wanted to leave so soon made jimin’s heart break in her chest. but she put on a brave face, even if it hurt. she was going to have to feel all of these unwanted emotions if it meant trying to fix things with you. 

“oh,” karina answered quietly. she had hoped to invite you to lunch with the others, but decided against it since you were not open to actually being friends again. with your back turned, you began walking but you looked over your shoulder one last time before continuing your trek down the mountain.

“i’ll see you around, jimin.”

her heart fluttered at the mention of her name, but she also cursed herself for being so weak minded and leaving you all those years ago. jimin was a good idol, a great one even. but it came at the cost of your relationship and friendship. but now? she was going to fix that. she needed to break down the walls you had built up because of her. 

and she was going to start by being the best “friend” she could possibly be.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ┊ ☪︎⋆ ⊹ ┊ . ˚ ✧

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @captivq , @wonyoluvr , @yunalvrrr , @spritin , @babycubchae , @vnschldd , @sserafimez , @chaersly , @rosiehrs , @baldd , @bwljules , @jenaissantesworld , @jennasluma , @dream-chasers-things , @lcv3lies , @elyds , @archerheejin , @vnschldd , @skisk1 , @cfvgbhndun-new-blog , @silantryoo , @phamminji , @bzeus28 , @writingficsblog , @strangegirlcode , @uzumakioden , @noiacha , @sserabey , @archerheejin , @pindoris , @yourstrulytrissmerigold , @jisooftme , @yacii , @ddrummie , @justalittledissociation

[ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 ]

[copper-wasp]

Warm Offer - Cidolfus Telamon/Fem Reader

⮚ (there's no way y'all didn't see this coming)

✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warning Tags: None, but I did choose a random name for Cid's lady to avoid using y/n ✦ Words: 2465

• 🙪 ● AO3 ● 🙪 •

Cid groaned as he slowly made his way back inside the Hideaway, many hours past when he should’ve arrived, the night nearly dark as pitch. He knew everyone had gone to sleep already - well, nearly everyone, seeing a familiar figure as he headed towards the solar. 

Wylla was at the mess, a lone candle lighting the page of the book she was reading as she nursed a mug of something in one hand.

“You’re up late,” Cid said by way of greeting, walking over to join her.

“Can’t sleep,” she explained, taking a drink from her cup. “What’s your excuse?”

“Unplanned…detour-“ he began, but noticed her nose start to wrinkle as she sniffed the air, leaning forward in her chair. She covered her mouth with her hand when she realized the awful smell was coming from him .

“Ungh, Cid, you stink like a bog!” she said with a laugh, trying to fan the air away from her with her unoccupied hand. “Did your detour take you through a sewer?”

“Is it really that bad?” he asked, trying to smell himself, the awkward heat of embarrassment flooding his skin.

“Yes! Please go take a bath before the whole hideaway starts to reek of it.”

“Care to join me, Wyl?” he offered with a smirk, knowing she’d roll her eyes in response. He couldn’t help but tease, she was always so receptive, usually having a prepared quip of her own to fire back at him. He tried to ignore the tug of attraction to her that pulled from behind his navel, but it didn’t always work.

“A kind offer but, no thank you, Cid. You’ll just trick me into washing your back for you.”

“Ah, you’ve found me out,” he replied, pulling out one of his cigars to light on the walk back to the solar. He didn’t miss the wistful little smirk on her lips, nor the way her eyes traced down his body, but he kept it to himself. “G’night, Wyl,” he called with a wave, hearing her bid him goodnight in return.

Cid rarely filled the bath all the way, but thought he’d make an exception this time, piling his clothing as far away from him as he could, deciding to deal with any lingering scent in the morning.

He sank into the water, the heat soothing his sore muscles, eyes closing to focus on the heat. He chuckled to himself as he replayed his exchange with Wylla, hoping that she’d manage to get some sleep, regardless if she needed a cask of wine to do so. It was nice seeing her out of her leathers, wearing a soft white nightdress and robe with her feet bare, her normally tightly braided hair gathered in a loose knot at the base of her neck. The two of them were the hideaway’s insomniacs, often meeting in the wee hours of the morning to commiserate about their bodies’ refusal to rest.

Cid heard the door unlatch, his eyes springing open to find the woman haunting his thoughts gently closing it behind her. She turned to face him, and Cid was very aware of how clear the bath water was, trying to quickly cover himself with one hand.

“Wylla? Why..? W-what…are you doing here?” He rarely stumbled over his words, but never in a thousand years did he think she’d actually play into his teasing.

“Joining you in the bath,” she replied nonchalantly, setting the candle she’d brought from the mess down before shrugging her robe from her shoulders to pool on the floor. Cid didn’t reply, he could only stare at her as she walked slowly towards him, trying to moisten his bottom lip with a suddenly very dry tongue. “Unless that was not a serious offer you made to me just now?” 

“It’s serious if you…want it to be,” he said, watching her intently as she re-tied her hair on top of her head to keep it from getting wet.

“I think I do want it to be serious,” she said, barely above a whisper, the promise in her voice hardening his cock.

“H-hurry in then, ‘fore the water gets cold.” His eyes greedily roved over her body, waiting for her nightdress to come off to reveal herself to him.

“Turn around,” she said, twirling her finger at him. He gave her a look, but she only grinned at him, daring him to challenge her. “Turn around so I may take my clothes off, Cid.” With a mighty groan, he did as he was told, shaking his head as he turned his back to her. 

“Bloody tease,” he mumbled, hearing her tut in reply. He focused entirely on the sound of shuffling fabric, having a better time imagining what she might look like than he thought he would. He knew she had a puckered scar above her left hip, he’d been with her when she’d been slashed by the soldier’s blade, but everything else about her was an intriguing surprise. He felt her move into his orbit, her palms soft and warm when she placed them on his shoulders.

“Scoot forward, go on,” Wylla encouraged, giving him a light push.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to wash your back for you,” she replied, squeezing his shoulders.

“Come on Wyl, you know that wasn’t serious,” Cid sighed, but he couldn’t stop a pleasured groan from slipping out as she dug her thumbs in with just a bit more pressure. 

“Scoot, Cid,” she said once more, and he complied, her tender touch welcome on his tired body. He felt the water ripple when she climbed into the basin behind him, her legs moving on either side of him and her chest against his back. She pressed a kiss to the base of his neck as he placed his hands on her calves, caressing as far down as he could reach without needing to move away from her soft lips. He felt her shift, grabbing the soap from the edge of the tub and dunking it beneath the surface. 

A silent moment passed before Cid felt her hands glide across his skin, the light scent of lavender in the air. He sighed, removing the weight of the world from his shoulders for just a little while. Wylla began to hum, nothing he recognized but beautiful all the same, and soon his eyes shut, allowing her to continue with her delicate work. 

She thoroughly washed his back and shoulders, and he let her guide him to lean back against her so she could run her soapy hands across his chest as well. She kissed his neck, feeling his pulse beat heavy against her lips as she trailed her hands down to his abdomen, feeling raised scars and peaks of muscle, an interesting sculpture for her fingers to trace.

“Wyl?” he murmured, almost completely under her spell.

“Yes, Cid?” she replied, pausing her ministrations. 

“…You are far too good to me,” he admitted, not being able to remember the last time he’d felt this cared for; usually it was him doing the caring, but he couldn’t deny how damned good it felt to be on the receiving end. All the little things she did for him came to the forefront of his mind, insignificant at the time but all signs of her generosity and concern.

“Don’t I know it,” she quipped with another kiss to his jaw. He turned his head to look at her, finding her looking unsurprisingly smug.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he replied, covering her hands with his where they rested on his chest.

“The great Cidolfus Telamon paid me a compliment, of course I’m going to let it go to my head. I’ll make sure Gav never hears the end of it, how I’m your new favorite and how you’ll start sending me on all the good missions-”

“Get over here, you,” Cid interrupted, exasperated. He adjusted their positions until she straddled his lap, and not an insignificant amount of water was on the floor. He tried to come up with another remark, but the look on her face robbed him of speech. She reached a hand up to caress his cheek, a smile playing on her lips. She looked happy, and not just the forced mask that she normally wore, the smile reached her eyes and the chuckle that came afterward was sweet as a bell. Perhaps just for the slightest moment she’d forgotten about the torture she’d endured at the hands of her masters; forgotten the nearly worse pain of removing that damned brand from her cheek.

Cid grasped her chin, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss. She melted against him, her eyes closing to fully enjoy it, her hands moving to either side of his neck. He was gentle, yet insistent, one hand sliding around her waist to the dip of her spine, flattening his palm there to draw her nearer. She sighed against his lips, feeling him there between her legs, stiff as he tried not to rut against her.

He moved his mouth to her neck, drawing every tiny noise she held within her to the surface, his palms rounding over her arse while his teeth nipped at her skin.

She whispered his name, maneuvering his face back up to meet hers for a kiss hotter than the bath. She grasped his wrist, dunking his hand beneath the water to rest between her legs. 

“The cheek on you,” Cid teased, gently tracing her slit.

“Oh, you think your constant teasing had nothing to do with this?” 

“Of course it did,” Cid chuckled, circling her entrance. “Took you long enough to realize it.” He slid his thick middle finger inside her, her head falling forward to rest on his shoulder. He waited patiently for her to adjust to the intrusion, adding a second when she began to rock her hips, his thumb rubbing her sensitive nub in tandem.

Her breathing quickened, on the precipice embarrassingly fast, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She was so close, but she didn’t want this here, no, she needed to feel him, feel his weight atop her. 

“Cid, w-wait-“ she stuttered, finding his eyes. He stopped moving his hand, beginning to withdraw at her request.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, just-“ she paused, searching the room for where he slept. “Would you…take me to bed?” He gave her a gentle nod, kissing her again before standing so abruptly that even more water splashed to the floor.

Cid helped her out of the bath, pulling her into an embrace as they stumbled to his bed, a trail of water in their wake. Helping her onto her back, Cid guided his hand back between her legs, watching her expression change as he slid inside her once again, two to the hilt. His lips wrapped around her nipple, and he felt her fingers weave into his hair, a quick scratch at his scalp making him groan. He fucked her open on his hand, so warm and wet she was that his cock was leaking in anticipation.

“Please, Cid-“ she begged, spreading her legs wide enough to accommodate him. 

“Aye… patience , love,” he replied with a sweet kiss, spreading her slick over his length. Cid hooked one hand beneath her thigh, guiding her leg over his hip and supporting it as he pressed himself inside her. 

She moaned softly, her chest heaving to try to quell her increasing heartbeat, her eyes foggy with lust; the most beautiful thing he’d seen in many moons. He caressed her cheek, letting her wrap her arms around him to keep him close when he began to move, ramping up in intensity when she dug her heel into his lower back.

They were being far too loud, the solar filling with the sounds of their coupling, but they didn’t care, feeling relaxed and cared for and loved after so many years without. Cid kissed and nipped at her neck, one of her hands fiercely trying to find his; he chuckled, grasping it and weaving his fingers with hers.

“Oh, Cid- I… I’m… fuck ,” she cursed, biting her lip. He grinned, mumbling filthy things in her ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and biting hard, a moan of absolute pleasure erupting from her throat. Wylla dug her fingernails into his shoulders in reply, her body stilling for just a moment before he felt her clench around him, choking on her cry. He slowed his pace, taking a moment to lightly trail a line of kisses up her jaw.

He didn’t want to pull out of her, but her cunt was about to make the choice for him, so he withdrew, but not before holding out as long as he could. He fell to his side facing her, wrapping his hand around his cock, nearly upon his own climax.

“Let me,” Wylla offered, still catching her breath. Her hand slid down his abdomen, fingers taking the place of his around his girth. He wasn’t expecting her to be quite this willing, and the surprise of it had him cursing. It was her turn to lavish him with attention, turning to face him so she could lick his lips, coming in for a kiss before he felt her teeth nip him gently. She moaned his name, laying it on thick to usher him over the peak, the groan he made something she burned into her memory to revisit.

“Fuck me, Wyl,” he said, thrusting into her hand until he finished on her stomach, her fingers insistently stroking him until he was fully spent. 

The both of them gratefully fucked, they locked eyes, grins spreading across their lips. Cid leaned in to kiss her forehead, softly stroking her hair before rolling to the edge of the bed. 

“Hold on, I’ll clean you up,” he said, gesturing with his head towards her abdomen. She turned onto her back again, Cid returning quickly with a cloth that he used to wipe her stomach clean. He fell back onto the bed with her, drawing her in for a deep kiss, her palms resting on his chest. 

“Well,” Cid began, “Not how I was expecting my night to end, considering how it began.”

“If only we had done this sooner,” Wylla replied, tracing circles on his bicep. 

“No, the timing was…perfect, Wyl,” he assured with a caress down her side. “Think you’ll be able to get some sleep now?”

“Oh, yes, I’m going to sleep like a baby.” Her eyelids were already heavy, Cid’s warm chest a perfect place to lay her head.

“Don’t feel like you need to go back to yours,” he teased, Wylla already snuggled up tightly to his side, one arm draped over his stomach. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

• 🙪 ● 🙪 ● 🙪 • • 🙪 ● 🙪 ● 🙪 • • 🙪 ● 🙪 ● 🙪 •

Thanks so much for reading, reblogging, and/or liking!

You can find me: AO3 Twitter

[grunklejam]

NEW TO NOT S&P APPROVED

The Mystery Shack Eco-Friendly Wooden Pin Badge

A 40mm wooden pin badge made of 4mm thick sustainably sourced wood - with a gold locking pin-back - of Gravity Falls' most iconic location: The Mystery Shack.

"Hey, you! Yeah, you! With the phone! Have you visited Gravity Falls and forgot your souvenir? Or do you just want to seem like one of the travelling elite that successfully breached its sacred halls? Don't worry, pal - Not S&P Approved has got you covered with this little beauty, straight from my gift shop. This wooden pin badge is straight from my fine shelves, made of top-quality, sustainably-sourced wood, finished with a bright maple veneer. The full colour print perfectly captures the world's premier shack of curiosities - my very own mansion of mystery. My hideaway of horrors! My definitely-not-a-cover-business-for-a-secret-interdimensional-portal! The Mystery Shack. Coupled up with a secure-locking pin back, which uses a fancy ball and spring mechanism to lock this thing to your jacket, back, or t-shirt, this wooden eco-friendly pin is going nowhere. Unless you take it somewhere, I mean. You get the idea."

4cm x 2.8cm wooden pin badge

Detailed, vibrant matte print

Maple-veneered MDF, sourced from fast-growing, sustainable forests

Gold locking pin-back (no more lost pins!)

Printed backing card with recycled, compostable plastic bag

Manufactured in the UK

[sandythereadingcafe]

#REVIEW TOUR:

THE RUNAWAY (Hideaway Springs) by Roxanne Tully at The Reading Cafe:

'small town hockey, slow burn romance'

https://www.thereadingcafe.com/the-runaway-hideaway-springs-1-by-roxanne-tully-review-tour/

[carlos-in-glasses]

Thank you for the tag @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @whatsintheboxmh @strandnreyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings 🧡💛

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend of Where All This Love Comes From is up on ao3 - so this is some TK and Owen from Chapter 8: Your Heart, As if It Was My Very Own - coming Sunday. Really looking forward to sharing!

“I let you go to Mike’s Superbowl party on one condition,” Owen says, heaving himself out of the chair. “No substances. And you promised.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t.” TK smiles and nudges Owen’s chest. “I’m just tired. I need to go to bed.”

“TK. Look at me.”

“Noooo I’m fine.”

“TK!” Owen grabs TK by his backpack. TK struggles and jerks his arms around until his backpack and coat come away in Owen’s hands. Owen lets both items clatter to the floor – and when the bag smacks the floorboards, there’s a strange buzzing sound.

“What’s that?” Owen asks.

“I don’t know,” TK says quickly, launching for the backpack at the same time as Owen – his blood running cold when he sees the black canvas undulating.

The Oxy has dulled his reaction times. Owen snatches the bag and unzips.

There it all is. A half-eaten Hershey bar. A green tube containing pills (opened). A strip of ribbed condoms (eleven serrated squares out of twelve). And a pink vibrator that is accidentally vibrating and thrusting at its highest setting.

Owen takes the vibrator out of the bag, stares at it moving in his hand like a living thing, and then switches it off with some difficulty.

“I can explain,” TK says once the room falls blessedly quiet but for street noise below.

Owen looks at the vibrator, looks at TK, looks at the vibrator. Looks at TK. “Did you get this the same place you got that?” he nods at the New York University hoodie that TK stole from Mike when Mike wasn’t looking. He put it on over his sweater and under his coat for extra warmth, which he thought was sensible. “Same place you got the pills?”

“And the chocolate bar,” TK admits. “Look–”

“You told me you were going to Mike’s, and you went to fucking New York University and came home with Oxy and a sex toy?”

“Like I said. I can explain,” TK says, even though explaining would mean repeating everything Owen just said. Because that is what happened.

“This is going in the trash. All of it.” Owen stomps away to the kitchen with TK in wobbly pursuit.

“No! I should be allowed to have that,” TK cries, more fussed about the vibrator than the pills at this point, because he had grand plans.

Owen pulls the garbage can out of its hideaway cupboard and dumps the condoms and vibrator into the sack – the vibrator springing to life again among egg shells and scrapped leftovers. Owen stares at TK seriously. Holding eye contact, he shuts the garbage can away while the vibrator carries on singing, slightly muffled. It will keep going until the battery dies.

Open tags and tags below

@lemonlyman-dotcom @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @paperstorm @eclectic-sassycoweyes @liminalmemories21 @heartstringsduet @welcometololaland @fitzherbertssmolder @ladytessa74 @lightningboltreader @bonheur-cafe @chaotictarlos @chicgeekgirl89 @alrightbuckaroo @noxsoulmate @freneticfloetry @herefortarlos @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-tk @redshirt2 @wandering-night19 @inkweedandlizards @inflarescent @jesuisici33 @three-drink-amy @reyesstrand @theghostofashton @rmd-writes @goodways @louis-ii-reyes-strand - if you want to share/haven't already! No pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[vela-pulsars]

Cliffside Retreat

A hideaway for a few forlorn deserters

Fanseason of Passage/Cycles inspired by the celts that I decided to stop working on for now, it was going to be about war deserters in the Golden Wasteland, hiding near the waning peaks of the Valley of Triumph. It would be set near a mountain lake that’s at first muddy and polluted, but as quests are completed, arches would emerge from the gradually clearing waters as the landscapes slightly change to reflect each season of the year. More under the cut !

The questgiver would have been a warrior at the head of a troop who decided to desert the battlefield to save their and their people's life, they got bear themes since they were seen as rulers of the forest in some mythos, and the link to the Ursa minor/major constellations as guides was really cool. They feel like a failure and a coward though, and the fact they they all ended up getting got by darkness anyway doesn't help, so what's left of their troop will try to cheer them up during the season.

Each spirit is inspired by a realm we cross before the Wasteland (with the questgiver themselves being GW) to symbolize how much one has lived through before making it to the middle of their life. So, pretty much, this is a season about reminding yourself of how many cycles you passed through before that kind of hardship, reminding you that you got all the experience you gained so far to do so. I also like to think there could be parallels between deserters feeling guilt because they made a complicated choice, and being into adulthood realizing a lot of complex things also have higher stakes and feeling like you're betraying yourself and what you stand for.

The first few quests have you gathering items to build the hideaway back; The first one has you look for scraps with the Wayfinder, summoning the first arch (spring) and making grass and a few cold-colored flowers appear in the desert. For the second quest, you help the Laborer carry and assemble shelters, after which the second arch of summer emerges and the landscape becomes even more verdant with longer grass and warm-colored flowers blooming alongside the ones from the previous quest. As for the third quest, the Blacksmith asks you to deliver items they crafted to the other spirits, making the third arch of autumn come out of the water as harmless rain falls in the area and all the plant life that grew so far turns various shades of yellow, orange, red and brown.

The last two quests are special: Fourth quest starts off normally with you helping the Performer play a song to cheer everyone up, which works... until the fourth arch of winter emerges. A clap of thunder not unlike Eden's is heard, and it becomes split in two (mirroring the twin elders). Snow falls upon the Cliffside Retreat and covers the grass and flowers as the winds become more violent, making flight more difficult... Finally, the questgiver themselves ask you for help for the last quest: a storm is sending all the work done so far flying, and you have to catch it mid-air. At the end, the guide plays their carnyx (an instrument ultimate gift), summoning an elder bird and its flock to guide the winds into being less chaotic. The clouds part, and underneath starlit skies, you see an aurora borealis. The spirits fix what they can, and after looking over life blooming in the area even more colorful than it was before, they feel at peace and ascend to the stars.

[ohforficsakelibrary]

The Margay: Chapter 5

'That Your Husband?'

prev / series masterlist / main masterlist

Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Sniper!OFC

Word Count: ~4.9K

Rating: Explicit 18+ / masturbation (f & m), dirty talk, Frankie offers guidance, exchanging of naughty pictures and suggestive texts / tw for physical violence (I may have beat Frankie up a bit) / Minors DNI

A/N: Frankie's grounded with an injury. Audrey's good at care packages. They both need each other more than they realize.

Every time I open this file I keep fucking with this chapter so please take it now. Your effort to overlook anything that seems overworked is much appreciated.

Their third job out, Frankie manages to get himself into a bit of a scrape. 

When a hurricane flattened Barbuda’s infrastructure it created opportunity. A perfect little hideaway among the wreckage. 

A waypoint for heroin exporters to rest their weary heads. 

It’s just a seaplane over to St. Thomas and U.S. territory and a stack of bills pressed into a customs officer’s palm before making the jump to mainland soil.

And in the process of surveilling a safe house, Frankie manages to trip a sensor. 

A blow to the back of the head drops him before Audrey or Santi can get to his location.

And so they lie in wait for the right moment to spring him free.

Santi fidgets, buzzing with impatience.

Audrey turns to stone.

Nothing else will contain her rage.

When half the men leave for beers at a local bar, Audrey and Santiago split directions, cutting a quick lap around the house.

“You take the front door, I’ll take the back,” Pope directs their breach in hushed tones. When they’re in position, Audrey counts them down before putting a boot through a rusted lock.

They can hear Frankie scream. And Audrey’s stomach roils. 

In pain.

In sympathy. 

In possession.

“I got him,” she spits into their comms, prowling through shadows between the bare lightbulbs that hang from the ceiling while the incessant buzz from the generator outside covers her tracks.

They’ve only left two men guarding their catch.

Well, one guard who’s slumped in a chair in the corner fucking around on his phone, and a taller man who has Frankie on his knees by the hair, arms zip-tied behind his back. He asks who sent Frankie and when he’s told to go fuck himself he lands a a kick Frankie’s ribs that has him screaming through gritted teeth before briefly losing consciousness. 

The man catches Frankie, holding him up by the roots of his hair, repeating the question with the toe of his boot dangerously close to knocking against Fish’s balls. 

“I need those,” Audrey mutters before a bullet finds the taller man between the eyes and the butt of her gun finds the seated man’s temple. “Santi, need you in here,” she fires off into comms before dropping her gun and dropping to her knees to keep a woozy Frankie from slamming teeth-first into the floor. 

She cradles his face and surveys it, peeling each eyelid up in turn to check his reaction to light. She's not sure how hard he was knocked in the head.  

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna save me,” is the first thing out of his mouth when he sees that it’s her and not Pope who has his face in their hands. 

“Yeah, I dunno how to fly a chopper,” she lies with a wink, “so Pope and I are swimming to Antigua without you and I just got my hair done.”

Frankie manages a snort before he spits blood onto tile. His bottom lip is split, left eye swollen shut and blooming a neat shade of purple. Road rash or something akin to it mars one side of his face.

Frankie rests his cheek against her shoulder and she supports his weight as she searches him with her hands, checking for slashed fabric and gaping wounds. For areas of tender heat insulating broken bones.

For bullet wounds.

Frankie yelps when her right hand applies light pressure to his side over his tactical vest.

"Okay, okay, I've got you, Frankie."

"That bit's bad," he groans.

“Can you stand?” She snaps a ceramic knife through the zip ties binding his hands behind his back as they hear two more shots and Santi calling “clear.”

“Yeah. Yeah I think so.”

But he can't right himself from where he's leaned heavy against her.

She shifts to kneel with his arm around her shoulders and her fist gripping his belt, hauling him up with her when she stands.

"Take your time, find your feet," she whispers, a stone under his weight.

“You lovebirds good in here?” Santi pokes his head around the corner.

“Lovebirds is a strong word,” Frankie quips and Pope is glad for his sense of humor, but he can't help the way his mouth presses into a tight line as he winces.

Frankie's so pale.

“Get him to the car,” Audrey pauses to allow Santi to shoulder Frankie’s weight. “Careful of his left side. Find anything other than the stash in the dining room?”

“Nah.”

“Alright get him out of here I’m right behind you.”

She sets charges around the safe house on a delay, pausing when she passes the room Frankie was held in. She grabs his hat off of the floor and slips it on backwards before taking off towards the car.

Santi guns it the moment she slips into the open back of their Range Rover.

“How is he doing?” Pope chances a glance back over his shoulder at where Fish is laid out across the folded back seats.

“Keep driving. Do you know how to fly a chopper?”

“That’s what I have him for.”

“I do,” Frankie whispers.

“You don’t have to do anything but stay awake for me," she demands, sweeping sweat-slick hair off of his forehead.

But it’s becoming increasingly hard, it seems.

“Fuck,” she mutters under her breath. “Santi, do you know how to place an IV?’

“No?” He sounds panicked. “Am I supposed to?”

“No, I’ll do it now then. Just…call out before we hit anything rough.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Keep. Driving.” The urgency in her voice has Santiago’s heart in his throat.

He can hear Audrey shuffling around for med supplies. 

He can hear how Frankie whimpers every time they hit a bump.

“I’m fine, babe,” he tries weakly to brush his knuckles against her stomach. She takes his hand and holds his arm out turning on the flashlight on her phone before slipping it into the front pocket of her tac vest. A tourniquet tightens around his arm Frankie hears the squishy crunch of an IV bag being prepped. 

Mercifully, the vessels in his arm aren’t shy. 

“You’ve got sexy veins, Morales.”

He starts to make an off-color comment but she tells him to keep quiet and hold still. Pope holds the car as even as he can, slowing down just a hair.

Audrey steadies her breathing and lines the needle up like lining up a shot, sinking it perfectly between beats of her own heart.

“We’re good, Santi, step on it,” she hooks the IV bag to the roof and tapes the needle in place on his arm.

Mercifully it’s only five minutes until they hit the helipad. 

Audrey grabs Santiago by the shirt before he can get out. 

Speaking quickly and quietly so Frankie can’t hear.

“He’s gonna need to be helped into that bird, can you walk him? I’ll hold outside until he’s in the back, just keep the IV bag up, try not to dislodge it.”

“Done.”

They have him loaded into the chopper in two minutes and Audrey has the bird in the air in another sixty seconds.

“Thought you said…couldn’t fly?” Frankie mumbles from the back seat.

“Yeah, you know how parents tell their kids that Santa Claus is real?”

They unplug Frankie’s headset after that.

So that he can't hear the worry in their voices.

“He’s not in a good spot, is he?” Santi glances back at the pained expression on Fish’s face.

“I think his ribs are cracked under there and he’s bleeding from places he shouldn’t be.” Her body is calm but there’s urgency to her words.

And anger.

“Can you get a call through to Davis? We need to change our itinerary.”

Santi’s voice crackles over the communications channel after two minutes. “They’re saying he can’t be reached,.

“Tell them it’s me.”

And he's impressed when it works but he doesn’t question it, plugging her headset into the satellite phone when they’re connected before he slips into the back seat to keep an eye on Fish. He only hears half of the conversation from there on out.

“Davis, change of plans, we’re in the helo now, but I’m going to need a charter waiting, Morales needs medical attention.”

“I’m thinking PR, likely fractured ribs with internal bleeding, he’s in and out. He needs his head scanned to rule that out too.”

“How quick can Gordon get down there?”

“Roger.”

“Beautiful. Tell him I owe him one.”

“Fine, then we’ll call it even.”

“Confirmed. Over and out.”

_____

Frankie remembers only the whirr of seaplane engines and red lights flashing through his eyelids before he wakes with a start the next afternoon.

“Easy, hermano, hey,” Santiago soothes with a smile, sitting up in the chair next to Frankie’s hospital bed.

“Where?”

“A hospital in Puerto Rico, hey, take it easy,” Santi tosses a frayed paperback onto a side table and shifts closer to where Frankie is trying to sit up. “Hey, don’t move too much, here,” Santiago puts a remote in Frankie’s hand for him to adjust the bed rather than himself.

“You took a few nasty hits. Four broken ribs, nicked your liver and caused bleeding. Probably got a bad headache too, but no permanent damage as far as we can tell.”

“I feel like shit,” Frankie croaks.

“I would expect that you do. Had us worried for a second there. You want some water?”

“Us. Where’s?”

“Jane Bond is catching some z’s,” Santi holds a paper cup out to Frankie and nods at the floor on the other side of Frankie’s bed. 

He winces when he brings the cup to his split lip, glancing down to where Audrey is curled up on a blanket. He takes a few sips and hands the cup back to Pope.

“You said Puerto Rico?” His voice is thick with disuse.

“Antigua didn’t have the facilities, so she hooked you up,” Santiago continues in hushed tones. “Called in a favor and flew out the best doc that Davis has. Stayed up the whole night until they had you scanned and stabilized. I told her to head out and sleep in a real bed, but she’s fucking stubborn.”

“Mm, thanks, Santi,” Audrey murmurs before she realizes who he’s talking to.

She’s quick to her feet and quicker with a soft smile.

“Francisco.”

“Hi,” he tries to mirror it but his whole face is tight.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pretty fucking sore.”

And Audrey hums a laugh, throaty and warm and not unlike she does when they’re in each other’s arms.

She gently brushes matted hair off of his forehead but stops short of caressing his cheek even though she’s burning with the need to do it.

To touch him.

Feel the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart and everything that assures her he’s still alive. 

To let her skin confirm what her eyes are seeing.

A soft knock sounds on the glass wall of the hospital room and a man motions for Audrey to join him in the hallway. After a few minutes they both step in.

“Frankie, this is Nick Gordon. He’s the best doctor I know, patched me up more times than I can count. We were in the same class and he was gracious enough to fly down. He’s been looking after you.”

“She threatened me,” Gordon quips with a wink and an outstretched palm. “Happy to see you’re awake.”

Frankie manages a shake as best he can with the cannula in his hand.

“I was just telling Aud that we’ll run a few more tests now that you’re up, go through a little bit of basic physical therapy and then have you back in here. We’ll probably keep you another night, possibly two, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever you need,” Frankie tries to sit up straighter and winces.

“Yeah alright, at ease Morales, you don’t have to impress me,” Gordon offers a small smile before turning to Santi and Audrey. “It’ll be a few hours, so if you guys want to grab something to eat now’s the time.”

“Yeah,” Santi runs a hand down his face and scratches at stubble. “Could probably use a shower too.”

Audrey swings around the bed and grabs her phone, pausing to gently squeeze Frankie’s foot, silently reassuring him that she’ll be back.

"C'mon," Santiago still has to coax her to leave.

“We’re booked in across the street, text me when you guys are through. Doesn't matter what time it is.” she says to Nick.

“Yes, ma’am.” Gordon catches her arm when he sees the look in her eyes. "Hey, I've got him, Aud."

“Thank you,” she whispers and slips out the door.

_____

Audrey and Santiago stumble into some tourist trap restaurant on the water because it’s the closest thing they can find with cold beer on the menu. They don’t speak again until there are appetizers in front of them.

“He’s got someone at home, right?” Audrey asks, taking a sip of beer. “To keep an eye on him. Help him out? Might be hard getting around the first few weeks, showering, cooking, all that. The less he does the quicker he’ll heal.”

“He uh,” Santiago pauses but her green eyes are filled with concern. “He can stay at mine for a few weeks. He did the same for me when I had a neck operation, it’s the least I can do.”

“Where’s his girl?” 

Santi angles heavy-lidded eyes up at her across fried plantain, hesitating before he continues. 

But she hasn’t asked it out of a need to move into an empty space in Frankie’s life.

Audrey’s asked it with conviction because she doesn’t want to hear that Frankie’s been abandoned. 

And he hates that he has to tell her the truth.

“She’s not…she left a few months ago. Took the baby with her. Moved out to California to be closer to family. They’re not…"

"There’s no one at home, Aud.”

And Audrey lets out the breath she was holding and sits back in her chair and stares out at the ocean. 

“Because of this?” 

And she means professional pursuits rather than personal ones.

“A few months before this. Probably why he agreed to take that first job in Nicaragua.” 

He doesn’t tell her about the coke relapse that drove the final nail in.

“But, is he…does he get to see her?” His daughter. Asked like anything less is an injustice to someone she cares for and therefore an injustice done unto herself.

“He tries to fly out there once a month or so. They Facetime a lot.”

It unsticks a corner of the papier-mâché Frankie’s covered in.

The shell around his heart. 

What’s underneath is as battered and bruised the body in that bed.

“Fuck,” she whispers, mouth catching on the “k”.

“Yeah it’s not ideal,” Santi takes a swig of beer.

"My dance card is full over the next few weeks."

“I’ve got him, Aud. You handled the first part. I’ve got the next.”

“You’re a good friend, Santi.”

“How long you think he’ll be down for?” He says around a mouthful of plantain.

“Nick said six to eight weeks, but probably more like ten before Davis un-grounds him," she moves to run a hand through her hair and realizes that she's still wearing Frankie's hat.

“Yeah, he’s gonna fucking hate that.”

“He hasn’t got a choice.”

“He’s gonna hate not seeing you.”

And she looks down at the ice melting in her glass of water. 

“I can’t be that for him, Santi.”

“I know. And I didn’t...didn't mean it like that. Didn’t mean to put it on you. Make it heavy, ‘m sorry.”

“Yeah," she looks down at her plate. "I know,” she sticks grilled shrimp with her fork. “I’ll send him a care package.”

_____

And Santi laughed in the moment.

But she does. 

Every week, like clockwork, first to Santiago’s house and then to Frankie’s apartment when he’s back on his own. 

An infrared heating pad shows up early on and Frankie swears it works better than the one that Santi bought from the drugstore that smells like popcorn and piss after two minutes in the microwave.

Week three she sends the memoirs of famous pilots. Books about Arctic expeditions and alpinists.

You ever climb a mountain, Aud?

He texts her from where he's shirtless on Santiago’s couch after having finished a novel about one of Everest’s most dangerous climbing seasons. He's warm and loose. Soothing heat seeping into his ribs.

Absolutely not, I’m a sea-level girl.

Why not?

Just not my medium, I suppose. Some beautiful things are better admired from afar.

And it’s probably the pain meds contributing to his reply.

You feel like one of those things right now. too beautiful. too far away.

You need to be in good working order to climb mountains, Frankie.

Miss taking you to that peak though.

Corny.

Oh she’s picky.

Discerning.

Where are you?

Uruguay. Me and mini bar gin for the night. Where are you?

Pope’s couch. he made a run to the store before it closes.

Hot. How are you feeling?

Sore. useless. bored. I miss you.

And he takes a calculated risk because he feels sore, useless, and bored.

Miss eating that pretty pussy. just thinking about how wet you get for me.

Are you hard, Frankie?

Getting there.

And he doesn’t expect what she says next.

Show me.

Frankie tongues his bottom lip with a shake of his head. He reaches under his grey sweatpants to take his length in a fist, coaxing it with the memory of her taste on his lips. He palms the base of it over cotton and snaps a picture angled down his stomach where his length rests hard and heavy angled over his left hip bone.

Fuck, you’re so big Frankie.

Miss hearing you say that, baby.

You cleared for this, Morales?

Broke my ribs, not my dick.

That would have been a real shame. Wouldn't be able to enjoy this.

And she sends a photo of her on her stomach, taken just over her left shoulder to shows off her naked back, the exaggerated arch in her spine accentuating the bare curve of her ass.

And he calls her now.

“Hi, Frankie.” She purrs when she picks up.

“I didn’t know nice girls like you sent pictures like that.”

“Who said I’m a nice girl?”

And he hums from low in his chest.

After a moment, “you ever bring toys with you, baby?”

“I was supposed to bring you,” she quips. “Now all I’ve got are my hands.”

“Well then let’s see what I can do.” He puts the phone on speaker and leaves it on his chest, rubbing a palm low over his stomach.

“You gonna listen to me, gatita?”

And she grins on the other end of the line.

“Whatever you say, Frankie.” 

“You serious, Aud?”

“Keep talking, Frankie.”

“Still on your stomach over there?”

“Mhmm.”

“Stay there. Go ahead and slip your hand down. Down to that pretty little clit.” His voice is thick with want.

And he can hear the faint slide of skin against the cotton of the duvet.

“Slowly now. Just soft little circles for me, baby.”

Frankie again reaches under his sweatpants, rubbing that sensitive spot just under the head of his cock with his ring finger before working his foreskin over the tip.

“Fuck, I wish I was behind you right now. You wet, baby?” Frankie growls.

“A little,” she whispers.

“Ohh,” he chuckles darkly. “A little’s not enough, baby. You know better than that. Move those fingers a little faster for me.”

And he mirrors the command before shifting to pull his cock out of his sweatpants entirely, wrapping his whole fist around his length. Pumping his cock in time with her moans.

“Oh, yeah baby.” He grunts and squeezes the base of his dick. Frankie's breathing has picked up to something that’s starting to make his ribs smart from the exertion. He swirls his middle finger through the slick dripping from the head of his cock, using it to ease the slide of his foreskin over his shining, reddened tip. “Louder for me, gatita.”

“Need more, Frankie,” she sighs.

“Mmm, my baby needs something inside, doesn’t she?” He teases.

“I’m gettin’ real close to not following orders, Morales,” her voice is husky when she bites back.

“Okay, baby.” he grins. “Okay. Just two fingers, hermosa. Inside.” She moans as she does it. “Yeahhh,” Frankie answers, pumping himself faster.

“Bet you’re so wet for me right now. So warm. Does it feel good, baby?”

“It’s not enough, Frankie,” she whimpers. Her fingers aren’t long enough—not thick enough—to do what Frankie does.

“I know, baby,” he soothes through his own desperate ache. “I know. You’re gonna move those hips for me, okay?” He’s hissing through teeth now, bucking up into his fist. “Go on. Grind down on your hand—for me.” 

And she rolls her hips to put pressure on her clit with the heel of her palm, her fingers buried in her cunt, pressing against that spot inside that builds a warm wave of pleasure on the verge of breaking. 

And Frankie can tell from five thousand miles away by the way she starts to cry out. 

“Feels so good, baby.” She’s breathless.

“Oh yeah,” his pace speeds up, “fuck yeah, baby. Yes. Let me hear you.” He tugs on his balls with his free hand and imagines each thrust of his hips is a thrust up into her hot, tight cunt.

“So close, Frankie,” she gasps, open-mouthed against the bedspread 

“Yeah, baby. Come for me. Babyyy. Oh—ff—fuck. Let me hear it." His voice is ragged—wild with need. With desperation. "Let me hear you fucking come. As loud as you want, gatita. Come for me. Come, baby, come.”

And she pants his name until her voice breaks on a moan and a choked screech of the last syllable.

“Baby....baby, my sexy little ba—ooh fff—UCK.”

And Frankie grunts and grits his teeth through growls as his hips snap hard against his fist, spilling thick stripes of semen over his bare stomach.

His breathing is hard and pained as he hears Audrey’s soft, answering moans. 

And for a moment they just listen to each other breathe.

“You okay, Frankie?”

“So good,” he murmurs.

After a thick pause, “ribs hurt like a bitch. Possibly…overexerted myself," he pants, lifting his hand up to survey the sticky white that coats his fingers.

“Oh, Frankie,” she sighs.

Sighs like she wishes she was there, fitted against the ache. 

Sighs like she wants to kiss it better.

“It was worth it, ba— fuck.” Frankie hears the garage door open.

“What…”

“Pope’s back.”

“Tell him he can blame me for his living room smelling like come.”

“Fuck. Yeah, I gotta go.”

“Go Frankie.”

“Good night, pretty baby.”

“Night, Frankie. Good luck.”

He hangs up with a smile and pockets his phone, rushing to crack a window with his clean hand as quickly as he can given the sticking pain in his ribs.

Frankie slips into the bathroom seconds before he hears plastic bags being loaded into the kitchen.

“You good, Fish?” Santiago yells out.

“Yeah,” he answers and starts the shower as his phone buzzes with a text.

You’re stunningly good at that by the way, Francisco.

He sends a winking face.

Can’t wait to do it in person, baby.

In time, Francisco.

_____

The next week she sends both sweet and salty snacks because she doesn’t know which he prefers until he texts her that the sour peach rings she sent were amazing. 

The following week a whole case of them arrives at his door.  

Around week six Frankie finds that she tucked a tastefully suggestive polaroid into a particularly salacious chapter of The Delta of Venus and between it and the reading material and how long it’s been—

Frankie completely ruins his copy. 

His ribs don’t quite hurt as much this time.

He briefly considers shipping it back to her, wrinkled cover, pasted-together pages and all, along with a note that reads “enjoyed this one” but he doesn’t know her address.

Frankie figures you can’t ship biohazards anyway and tosses it instead.

The polaroid though, he keeps.

_____

Week eight her phone lights up with a text from Frankie, right around midnight in his time zone.

I miss the way you smell.

Your hair. your skin.

And Audrey’s heart aches with the intimacy of his confession.

Oh, Frankie. I miss you too.

I've been cheating though. I have your hat.

Keep it for now. send me something in exchange?

A few days later, her favorite hat shows up at his door.

"Crossroads Bar and Grill," he reads out loud with a smile. Sure enough, it smells faintly of her hair and he idly holds it to his nose before he notices something else in the package. He lets the strap out an inch and pops the cap on his own head before pulling out a blue linen pillowcase.

Frankie crushes it to his nose and breathes in the scent of her hair, exhaling with a deep moan.

That night he slips it over one of his extra pillows and sucks in breath with his face buried in it until he comes hard into his fist.

Open-mouthed.

Lungs full of her.

_____

Week nine she’s on a plane back to DC when he texts her a picture with the caption:

PT going well. worked out without pain this afternoon. bruises mostly gone.

The text loads before the picture does, and she smiles because he’s on the mend.

Audrey is not, however, prepared for the image taken in his bathroom mirror. 

He’s turned to the side, brushing his teeth with one hand, elbow picked up to display his ribs, phone held in the other hand angled in towards the mirror. 

It’s a thought captured in the moment that it happened. Meant only to display the faint yellow that’s left on his ribcage, a scant suggestion of the symphony of purple and blue that marked it weeks before.

But Frankie is fresh out of the shower. Naked as the day he was born.

And the bathroom countertop is only so high. 

Frankie, I’m on a plane.

That’s fine. 

I just noticed that it looks a lot better. thought I’d share. Where to?

And she realizes it really was a mistake.

I’m happy to hear and happy you shared! Working out without pain is huge progress.

But half your cock is in this shot, Francisco.

Ah fuck.

I sent that to all the boys.

And Audrey has to keep herself from cackling because surely Big Dick Morales’ phone is blowing up with the kind of shit that only good friends can dish out. 

Shame, I thought it was just for me. 

He sends the wild-faced emoji with its tongue out.

Where you off to? 

Back to DC actually.

Nice to be heading home. text me that you got in safe.

And something warm spreads in her chest. 

She chances another glance at the photo, zooming in first on his ribs, then the curve of biceps that seem more heavily-muscled than she remembers.

She scrolls down the image to the suggestion of abs where he was softer before. Frankie, it seems, has been taking physical therapy seriously and then some.

And she scrolls down a little further to the brush of curls at the base of—

“That your husband?” The older lady to Audrey’s right asks and she immediately clicks her screen off.

“Yep,” she lies because you can never be too sure and she doesn’t need a lecture on the premarital sending of accidentally nude pictures. “Yeah, he fell off his motorbike a few weeks ago. Bruised his ribs, but they’re looking way better now.”

“He’s handsome.”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“He makes you smile. Keep him. For now.”

And Audrey laughs with her head thrown back and buys the woman a glass of wine and they fall into easy conversation and the rest of her flight isn’t as dismal as the first half. 

When she steps through the door of her apartment she remembers Frankie's ask.

Made it back home.

Not one minute later, her phone lights up.

A photo from Frankie. Taken just above his hips. The outline of his thick, hard length evident under the rumpled green of his bed sheet, hand closed loosely around the base of it. 

There’s precome smeared on his tanned stomach, catching the light from a bedside lamp.

That one’s just for you.

You sure you didn’t send this to all the boys?

Only you, baby.

This right now?

Ten minutes ago, I’m afraid. fading fast.

I miss you.

I miss you too, Francisco.

_____

Week ten there’s a knock on the door of her hotel room in Trinidad.

And she opens it to big brown eyes peering at her from under the brim of a cap from Crossroads Bar and Grill.

“Audrey,” he smiles.

“Frankie,” she sighs and wraps her arms around his neck as he presses her tight against him.

She feels his ribs expand comfortably as his lungs fill with the scent of her hair. His lips are warm against her neck and she tucks her nose into the tender spot behind his ear.

Feeling the warmth of his skin and the beat of his heart and everything that assures her he’s still alive.

And her skin confirms what her eyes are seeing.

And in some small way.

They each feel a little more whole again.

next

Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted to Ohforficsake - follow me over there for future updates.

Shoot me a message @ohforficsake or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for updates! Thanks so much for reading.

[the-gateway-to-madness]

Jack Frost Headcanons

Jack likes strong flavors, be they spicy, sweet, or savory. He likes mild stuff too- point is he'll try any food, pretty much.

Jack has good coordination and steady hands, and as such is very gentle when he handles most objects (and animals, and people).

Jack is a Ravenclaw with ADHD: he's not ambitious or trying to join the Guardians, who are powerful and well-known. His fighting style is more about maneuvering and strategizing than guts or power (unless you really upset him like when Sandy died). The being-easily-bored and good sense of humor would indicate intelligence as well.

Jack has a great sense of rhythm but dances like a dork on purpose.

Jack is a night owl.

Jack creates a proper hideaway for himself in Burgess after the movie. Something about the forming and confirmation of his identity in the movie makes me think he'd be ready to make a nice little home or even just a safe spot afterwards.

Jack's main love language is quality time, North's is words of affirmation, Bunny's is acts of service, Tooth's is gifts, and Sandy's is physical touch. Yes, I know North seems like he should be the gifts type, and he definitely does gifts like no one else- but he comforts Jack by talking with him, and Tooth tries to comfort Sophie with a (horrendous) gift.

Jack never yells during arguments. He's seen what it does to people who've been abused, watched kids and lovers be hurt and tried to stop it- so he refuses to even risk scaring anyone that way. Even before becoming a Guardian, Jack would never raise his voice in a fight- at the very least, never face-to-face.

Jack has a handful of scars, mostly from dumb accidents or crash-landings. He refuses to tell the stories. Everyone assumes they're horrible and traumatic, but in reality, Jack was just terrible at paying attention to stuff when he first started out as a spirit.

Emotions like anger, embarrassment, or attraction raise Jack's body temperature just enough for his blood to thaw and his heartbeat to get going. It startles him every single time.

Jack is fascinated by folklore and mythology and studied them extensively to try to track down other spirits to befriend, with little success.

Jack played at least one instrument in his past life (his hands would be suited to violin or piano, especially) and instrumental music still calms and focuses him.

Jack was a farmer in his past life and still has lean, strong muscle hidden under his hoodie. He could absolutely win an arm wrestle with Bunny.

Jack is a little insecure about his Adam's apple.

Jack's powers are stronger at night due to the lack of apricity.

Unlike the animosity that a lot of the fandom portrays Jack having with other potential seasonal spirits, I think he's buddies with the other seasons, they just don't see each other much due to minimal domain overlap. The spirit of autumn is his favorite, but he's very protective of spring (mirroring the fact spring relies on winter to nourish the earth). The other seasons all treat him like their baby brother.

Jack dips french fries in Wendy's frosties unironically. He probably dips their chicken nuggets in the frosties too.

Sophie made Jack watch gen 4 My Little Pony with her and he didn't think the songs were half bad. He would never admit this to Jamie or anybody else in a thousand years.

Jack thinks birds are cool.

Cats see Jack more often than dogs. He doesn't know why, but he's willing to pet most things that move.

Stay tuned for what will probably be a lot more of these-

[optiwashere]

Shadowheart/Nocturne, A9? I know i'm giving a fluff prompt and I'm gonna get angst in return but tbh no problem with that lol

Lol, this is a good way to ensure that I don't just angst bomb everyone again. Thanks for requesting this one! Can I even write fluff for them...

You can send a prompt from this list + a ship or platonic pair, and I'll write a ficlet!

--- A9. Celebrating one character's firstmorn (birthday!)

The heavy bag at Shadowheart's hip flopped against her as she ran through the streets of Baldur's Gate. Darkness guided her way as always, the only light in the Lower at this hour the scarce candlelight peeking through windows. Luckily, her darkvision covered the spots where that feeble light failed her. Her face stung a little, but she was too focused on her escape to care all too much.

She turned the last corner to safety and slipped through the hatchway nestled in berry bushes at the rear of the House of Grief. She descended the ladder slowly, making sure the patchwork bag at her side didn't pop open and pour its precious contents down the shaft.

When she pushed past the sentries questioning where she'd gone, Shadowheart made her way to the slats in one corner of the cloister. It was easy for one her size to get through without anyone noticing.

In their spot within the hideaway grotto, Nocturne sat and waited. Waited with her knees tucked under her and her hands clasped together in prayer.

Shadowheart sat behind her without saying a word. She unfastened the flap of the bag and withdrew her prize. It sat on a plate alongside several candles. She settled the candles into the soft surface, whispering a word of power to scatter flames across their short wicks.

The light and sound alerted Nocturne, who turned. Her horns glittered against the flames and her harsh, purple eyes scanned the cake in front of her.

"What's this?" she asked, her voice small.

Shadowheart sat up on her knees. "Happy firstmorn, Nocturne."

"How did you—?" Nocturne lifted her head, her eyes widening when she saw Shadowheart. "Gods, what happened to you?"

"Oh, this?" Shadowheart touched the bruise that bled and stung under her eye. "Could've been worse."

"Could've been...? Shadowheart," Nocturne whispered. She leaned over and touched Shadowheart's face, a smile growing on her own. "Did you steal this cake?"

"Of course."

"For me?"

"Who else?"

Nocturne's palm on her cheek felt better than any healing word, any tincture-soaked sponge. Her thumb graced Shadowheart's face for a moment.

"It's beautiful." Nocturne didn't look away from Shadowheart while she spoke. "If a bit crushed."

Shadowheart smiled. She whispered, "Did you want anything else? Any other gift?"

Nocturne nodded in answer. Her hand didn't leave Shadowheart's face. The sounds of the cavern spring trickled alongside distant murmurs of Sharrans in the cloister.

Hesitating for a moment, Shadowheart tried her best to remember what she'd done for all of Nocturne's other firstmorns. All those days she deserved. There was nothing there, though. All of it given as a gift to Lady Shar, now lost.

So she did what she thought made the most sense.

She leaned over the cake, accidentally smashing it with her knee, and pressed her lips against Nocturne's. Felt Nocturne giggle against her.

She kissed her and Nocturne kissed her back.

This was supposed to be her gift. Not mine.

Yet Shadowheart could not stop kissing her.