#but when Violet gets the better one it tends to not be much of a contest (as much as I love Solgaleo and Glastrier)

[fierykitten2]

Decided to once again see if I could locate some Legendaries. Scarlet may be a bit jealous I let Blueberry meet Ho-Oh instead of it (meanwhile Ho-Oh has no idea what happened to its creation and Blueberry doesn’t even realise there’s anything special about Ho-Oh)

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ A Simple Life ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

synopsis: sfw headcannons w/husband!Alucard x reader living in a cottage in a prairie

tags: tooth rotting fluff

a/n: this was a request and i sobbed writing it wow i love alucard

wrd cnt: 1.3k

Cooking Together

With living this way, a lot of your food was homemade and even better for it.

One afternoon, you decide to bake a new buckwheat bread together after he found an entire field of it not too far south of your cottage.

It ends, like you thought, in chaos.

"You added salt instead of sugar!" You accuse him.

"Well…..they look the same?”

Flour ends up on the floor, on your clothes, and definitely on Alucard's nose, that last one wasn’t a mistake though.

"You've got something-" you start, but he flicks more flour onto your cheek.

"Oh, it's war now," you declare.

Flour flies through the air as the both of you duck behind counters, laughing and giggling, both covered in the powder. When it finally ends, you’re breathless and tangled on the floor, clutching each other.

"You're lucky I love you," you whisper.

"I live on that luck," he grins, brushing flour from your lips before kissing them lovingly.

Protectiveness

Though the two of you lived in peace, Alucard's protective instincts never left him, especially towards his darling.

When you walk through the forest, he always positions himself slightly between you and the trees. His eyes always scanning the shadows, though he tries to do it subtly as to not scare you.

"Are you expecting wolves?" you tease.

"Only if they're foolish enough to come near you," he replies smoothly with a smile.

In the kitchen, he always hands you the duller knife, not that he says it out loud.

He wraps scarves around your neck himself when it's cold. He double-checks the windows at night.

"Alucard," you sigh, "you don't have to guard me."

He turns to you, eyes gentle. "I know. But I want to. I know you can do it yourself, but let me do it for you.”

You rest your head against his chest, hands holding his. "Then just guard my heart."

He holds you a little closer than before. "Without question."

Love Notes

Alucard has a habit of leaving handwritten notes tucked into odd places, he doesn’t think it’s odd at all- not when every part of his being belongs to you.

You’d find them in your coat pocket: “Wear something warm. I want to take you star-gazing tonight”

For inside the sugar jar: “You're the only thing sweeter than this.”

Also in the books you read: “You are the chapter I never want to end.”

It’s cheesy, yes, but of course, you can’t stop yourself from writing back, leaving playful replies.

Sometimes, you catch him mid-note.

"Caught you," you grin, peeping into your bedroom when the door is ajar.

He smiles softly, swiftly putting the note behind him. "I like reminding you how much I love you."

"You don't have to write it down."

"I know," he says, pressing a kiss to your hand. "But I want you to find it even when I'm not near."

“What’s that one say?” You ask, referring to the one he’s hiding behind his back.

“You’ll find it soon.” He promises.

Tending to the Garden Together

Due to your lifestyle, it’s only understandable that you’d rather plant your own food than go to the villages and towns far away for your produce.

Your garden is small but lively.

You planted it together with care, each herb and flower chosen with intention.

Alucard tends to the lavender and rosemary with reverence, while you tackle the stubborn wildflowers that bloom freely around the edges.

"You've got dirt on your nose," he says, smirking.

You look up, swiping at it. "Better than being sensitive to sunlight." You get back at him.

He leans down to kiss your dusty forehead. "A small price for your love."

You both love to spend hours under the open sky, hands brushing over basil, tomatoes, and violets.

Sometimes he wraps his arms around ypu from behind, resting his chin on their shoulder.

"Think it'll grow?" you ask, looking at the lemongrass in front of you.

"It already has," he whispers, meaning more than just the plants.

At dusk, you both watch the fireflies blink over the garden. The lake reflects stars, and Alucard holds your hand like it's something sacred.

"Promise me we’ll have this forever," you say, more than ask.

He looks at you with ancient, unshakable devotion. "For as long I breathe, and long after that too.”

Reading Together by the Fireplace

Your location brings you all four seasons and each with its own unique needs, but your favorite is winter. The snow falls thick and quiet across the prairie and visits your home each year.

In the evenings, the two of you sit pressed up in a nest of quilts you knitted with some yarn he bought you from a traveling merchant. The fireplace is crackling and the snow hushed the world outside through the windows.

Alucard reads aloud, his voice low and melodic. Sometimes it's poetry, sometimes ancient texts, sometimes silly fairy tales.

“And the prince turned into a fox,” he reads, amused.

"Sounds familiar," you grin, poking his side.

He arches a brow. "Are you calling me a fox?"

"I'm calling you sneaky."

He chuckles and leans in close. "Well I'm calling you adorable, my princess."

Your soft laughter echoes off the cabin walls.

Later, the book forgotten, you curl up together and talk about everything or nothing at all.

"Do you ever miss the castle?" you ask him, a question that’s been on your mind for many seasons.

"Not when you're here," he murmurs. "This is home, our home."

Morning Routines

Arguably the best part of the day is the very early mornings at the prairie.

Every morning, Alucard wakes before the sun rises. Not out of necessity-just so he can admire the person he loves most before the world stirs.

Before the rays of sunlights seeping into your room wake you, he takes the time to brushe stray hair from their forehead, kisses you softly, and murmuring, "I could watch you for centuries and never tire." You, still wrapped in blankets, usually stir awake with a smile and giggles as he kisses your lips awake.

"You're staring again," you mumble, slowly opening their eyes.

"Always," he replies.

You spend quiet mornings brewing tea in your little kitchen, the same sunlight slanting through the windows as they follow you two throughout your routine, like ritual. Alucard always insists on serving you first, placing the warm mug into your hands with the kind of reverence saved for holy things.

“You act like l'm made of glass."

"No," he says, kissing your temple and placing your plate infront of you. "You're made of stars.”

Stargazing

Speaking of stars, most nights, you two sit out by the lake under a heavy wool blanket, backs against a smooth boulder, watching stars blink awake in the darkening sky.

"Tell me a story," you ask one evening, as you usually do. You know your husband is a walking museum of time, full of anecdotes. But he also loves to make up his own, for your entertainment of course.

Alucard tilts his head, thinking. "Once there was a lonely prince in a castle of shadows, until a light found him and taught him to laugh again, just what he needed and more."

"Was the light pretty?" You say, clearly catching on to his flirting.

"The prettiest. Blinding, really." He mentions, chuckling deeply.

You laugh and rest their head on his shoulder. "You're shameless." You say, poking his side. That bastard, daring to be so sweet it made you dizzy.

"I'm in love," he says simply.

Your fingers intertwine over the blanket.

Alucard's thumb brushes slow circles. The stillness like the lake reflects the same love between you, deep and gentle.

He looks at the stars and then at you. "I used to think quite often, I was too broken for this."

You squeeze his hand. "You were just waiting to be loved right."

He kisses your knuckles. "I was waiting for you. Every day."

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[fireheartpages]

free falling | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader chapter four. series masterist summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. when you catch his attention and bond a conundrum of a dragon, you finally feel like you can catch your breath. word count: 2.9k ish maybe a bit more note: second person pov--reader has she/her pronouns, a nickname stolen from dirty dancing, and a last name for continuity purposes. warning for daddy issues, and not xaden's. use of surfing techniques to ride a dragon. someone tell me to shut up why is this chapter so long. i havent even gotten to the point yet. another one is probably coming if not tonight, tomorrow. warning for my proofreading skills theyre really bad even when im not drunk and tired

This boy was everywhere.

The mess hall at breakfast. Battle Brief. Challenges and gym. The flight field. The courtyard after class.

And every time you saw him, he had that lopsided grin, like he was saving it just for you.

Sometimes you two would talk. Sometimes it was just a fleeting look or glance, stolen in between moments that made your gravity shift until you were orbiting him. Sometimes, when you did interact, it wasn't for very long--there were always people around you. Rhiannon and Sawyer pulling you to the library, Garrick and Imogen pulling him to the gym. Your conversations took the back seat to Xaden and Violet's bickering (you would pick sides and place bets on the conclusions when this happened). But sometimes, in a rare moment when you would catch each other and you were both alone, he would walk you to your next class, or your dorm. Sometimes he would leave his friends to do so. Sometimes it all gave you a fuzzy feeling, right in the center of your chest.

It was one of those rare moments. He had seen you across the courtyard and said a quick goodbye to his friends--who proceeded to laugh and wolf whistle as he jogged over to you.

You weren't blind, and you weren't stupid. You knew what this was, this growing spark between you. Knew a boy didn't just walk someone to their dorm because they wanted a friend. You just weren't sure you were ready to admit it to yourself yet.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"Hi." That had become a game between the two of you. It always made you giggle, and you really liked the way he looked at you when you were laughing.

You wrung your hands together, tightening the gloves you wore, more as a nervous habit than anything. Shocair had insisted you get better gloves, even suggested you take her scales and make some yourself. And when you had pointed out that you wouldn't know how to do that, she had scoffed and given you a mental eye roll. She was really good at that.

"How are your hands?" Bodhi asked. "Is the balm helping?"

The balm he had gotten made for you. To help the cracking and peeling skin of your palms. The one he had noticed you had a need for, gone to a healer to have made, and brought directly to you.

"Yeah," you said. "I think it is. A lot, thank you."

"Yeah," Bodhi said. "How much do you have left?"

You cocked your head. "About half."

He just nodded, and slid you one of those lopsided grins before offering to walk you back to your room.

And a month later, he had shown up at your door with a new tin of it, and you let him walk you to breakfast that morning.

You hadn't really been alone together, though. If you weren't with one of your friend groups--which had melded together by now, considering the way Violet and Xaden tended to revolve around each other--you were walking through crowded courtyard and buildings and hallways. Which was fine. You weren't expecting anything.

"Liar." That was Shocair. She had taken a liking to Bodhi.

It was comments like that that had prompted you to figure out grounding and shielding prematurely. Turns out, you’re a natural, and one of the strongest in your year. Shocair was annoyed by the development, but nonetheless impressed.

“I chose you for your mind,” she had said. “Do you expect me to be surprised when you excel?”

Despite her grumbling and chiding, and pretending like she wasn’t happy with your progress, Shocair was the most supportive relationship you’d ever had. You’d answer a question in a class that no one else had thought of and receive a hum of approval in your chest, and she never chided you for making mistakes during flight maneuvers—and there were a lot of them—just gently corrected you until you figured it out.

When you had succeeded as a child, your father had always acted like you met expectations, and your mom was never around long enough to counteract it. So maybe a mother-henning dragon was nice. Kind of. Just a little.

The flying was your favorite though. When you weren’t sitting in the field with her doing work, or dancing around whatever was going on between you and Bodhi, you were on Shocair’s back, flying over the field. Sometimes for practice, sometimes for fun. You’d see Tairn putting Violet through the wringer with incredibly difficult maneuvers, and Shocair would mimic them with more grace, making a dance out of it. An art.

You’d gotten ballsy with it, much to her dismay, but you had the sneaking suspicion she enjoyed it as well, considering the contentment she radiated after every practice and class. You’d taken to walking around on her back, one of the more enjoyable tricks you would pull.

That had started out slowly, and with a lot of protests from Shocair.

“Slow down!” you’d called. Then, mind to mind, “Slow down just a little. Please.”

You felt a flair of curiosity, edged with confusion, but she did as asked.

Slowly, you released your grip and braced your thighs until you had your balance.

“What are you doing?” Shocair snapped.

“Trying something.”

You placed your hands flat on her hide, moving with the dips of the flight and the wind around you until you were able to push to stand. You slipped one foot under yourself, leaning into it and steadying your center before bringing the other one up so you were in a crouch.

“This isn’t as easy as the third years make it look,” you mumbled, more to yourself than anything.

“They have two and a half years of riding experience over you.” The panic that was taking root in your chest wasn’t yours. You ground your feet into the sand of your mental beach, turning your back to the wind of the choppy waters until you had blocked out the feeling, but still leaving the bond open enough to communicate with her.

Slowly, meticulously, you shifted your weight back until you were able to stand, your feet grounded on Shocair’s scales, and you raised onto your fingertips. And then your hands were up.

“I need to know how to do this,” you said to her. “My hands aren’t always going to work like I want them to.”

“And standing mid-flight is your solution?” she growled.

“Do you have a better one?”

There was no answer down the bond, but you could feel the disapproval—and you didn’t need the bond for that.

You kept a bend in your knees, shifting your weight when there was movement, leaning into it to keep your balance. This was it, this was what you excelled at. This was what you were made for.

“Do something,” you said to her. “Let’s test this.”

“I’m not catching you when you fall.”

“Then, I won’t fall.”

You did fall, and she did catch you, and then you tried it again, until you could get the hang of it.

Your biggest hat trick had turned into barrel rolling while standing. That had impressed the fuck out of Kaori. It had been an accident the first time it had happened. Shocair had banked too hard, and you’d gone tumbling, free falling, but she had caught you on her back when she had been able to straighten out, soaring over you before diving under to catch you.

Your landing had knocked the wind out of you. “Do that again!”

“Do you not value your life?”

“Just try it!”

You stood again, getting quicker each time you were able to do it until you were practically able to hop up. She tilted, and you leaned into it until you were practically sliding off of her, and then you jumped.

You fell as she soared over you, and then she banked, finishing out the barrel underneath you, and you landed in a crouch. Your hands had grappled for purchase on the pommel, almost slipping off, but you’d done it. And then did it twice more until you had it down pat.

You’d landed to a multitude of back pats, high fives, and even a handshake from your professor. And despite her grumbling, Shocair was puffing out her chest with pride.

So, you were the best at flight maneuvers, top of the class at battle brief, and fighting with Violet and Rhiannon for top grades in other classes. But it had been nearly five months, and you still didn’t have a signet.

Everyone else did. Sawyer could bend metal and Ridoc could wield ice and Rhiannon could make things disappear and reappear at will. And you had nothing. The power from the bond would make your skin itch sometimes with its intensity, and still nothing.

“It’s fine, Baby. I don’t have mine either,” Violet said with a lightness you did not feel, one day when it was particularly weighing on you. The two of you had shared a look that said everything it needed to.

You were pretty sure the excess magic was triggering the dry patches on your skin. Bodhi had taken to getting you more tins of the balm much more frequently. You had offered to fetch it yourself, asking him to put you in contact with the healer that was making it, but he’d waved you off with some sort of excuse, and kept showing up at your door whenever the tin was low to give you a new one and walk you to class. You’d written the healer—Ané, he’d told you—a thank you note anyway and given it to him to deliver.

It was six months now after Threshing. And you still had no signet to account for, not matter how open the bond was, or how much Shocair channelled into it.

“It will develop in time,” she had said, one day when you’d asked, more full of anxiety than anything. “I know you.”

So you waited. You were sitting in the flight field, leaning up against Shocair’s neck as she dozed. You had a book open in front of you, something you’d found in the archives to study up on signets—since it didn’t seem like yours was coming anytime soon. You flipped the page, the sun smoothing your skin and warming you from the inside out as you lounged.

A rustle through the trees drew your attention, and there he was.

Bodhi stands a few feet away from you, and Shocair stirs, blinking open a golden eye before shutting it again.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you say, and like clockwork:

“Hi.”

“Are you coming out for a flight?” you ask, shutting the book in your lap.

“Nah,” Bodhi says, moving closer to you. “Cuir was around here, but I don’t think she’s in the mood. So, I’m just… taking a walk.”

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “I see.”

“What are you reading?”

“A Study on the Magic of a Bond,” you say. “Reading up on signets.”

“Still nothing?” he asks. He sits down in the grass across from you, stretching out his legs, and for a moment, you’re mesmerized by the way the sun reflects the dark strands of his hair, the dark bronze of his skin. He looks like he’s glowing.

He’s beautiful.

“No,” you say after finding your tongue. “No, nothing yet.”

“Has she started channeling?” he asks, glancing to the sleeping dragon behind you.

“Yes.” Your gaze drops.

“It’s okay,” Bodhi says. “It can take a while sometimes.”

“I would just rather not burn up from it if it doesn’t.” You laugh, but it’s a humorless thing.

“You won’t.” His sincerity strikes you straight in the chest, with the surety of it.

You blink. “How long did it take yours?”

“A couple months.” He picks at the grass. “I think it took me a while to figure it out.”

“How so?”

“I had to wait until someone used their signet on me.” He grins, and you get that funny feeling in your chest again. It makes you suck in a breath. “Xaden, actually. He had sent some shadows around me as a joke, and we were all a little surprised when they burned up, basically. Thought light was my signet for a while. Sunlight, or something, but then a fire wielded had thrown something at me, and the flame just kinda sputtered, and even then, it took a few more tries for me to figure it out.”

You nodded slowly. That made sense, countering signets would require a trigger. “Do you have strong shields?”

Bodhi cocks his head. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

You shrug. “I feel like it would come with the territory. Being able to counter any sort of cognitive signet.”

He seems to sit on that for a second. “I don’t think I’ve actually ever tried that. Never needed to, I guess. Or, If I have, I didn't realize I was doing it.”

You hum, and your mind whirls.

“I’ve seen you fly, though,” Bodhi says, surprising you. “You’re amazing up there.”

“You’ve seen me fly?” you repeat, a furrow in your head.

He folds his lips, suppressing a grin, and you’re once again hit with the urge to press your thumbs to them until he smiles again, until he turns those pretty brown eyes on you again. “Yeah. It’s hard not to look. You’re incredible.”

A giggle twists out of you. “Thank you. It’s… fun.”

“Yeah. You enjoy it in a way I’ve never seen before, though.” He’s grinning in earnest again, that invisible string tugging one side of his mouth higher than the other, but his gaze is elsewhere, and you take it as an opportunity to surveil him from head to toe, from his dark curls to the lean muscle to his flight leathers. His very tight flight leathers. Gods above, this guy’s thighs. “You look more comfortable on the back of a dragon, flying at a hundred miles an hour than you do with two feet on the ground.”

You laugh, and his gaze snaps to you. Something in it softens. “I’m serious,” he says. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s nice,” you say. “It reminds me of home. It’s like I can understand how a bird feels now.”

You really hoped Shocair wasn’t privy to that comparison.

“Do you wanna go get dinner?” Bodhi asks, standing, and before you can even answer, he’s extending a hand.

You aren’t wearing your gloves, and you hesitate for a moment before taking his hand anyway. You stand and quickly take yours from his grip, swallowing hard.

“Sorry.” You shake your head.

“For what?” he asks in earnest, and when you meet his eye, you’re suddenly, brutally aware of how close you’re standing.

“I’m not wearing my gloves. I know my hands aren’t very soft.” You laugh it off, but it comes out strained. A mimicry of what it should have been.

A furrow suppresses his dark brows. “Did I hurt—”

“No!” you say quickly. “I just—the skin is scratchy—”

You cut yourself off when he takes your hand in his, cupping the back and facing your palm up. He runs a knuckle along the cracking skin, as if he could smooth it out, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Do you have the balm?” he asks, and it’s quiet. Like he didn’t want to disturb the space between you.

“Yeah.” You use your other hand to pull the small tin out of the pocket of your leathers, and he uncaps it, dipping a finger in and cradling your hand again as he rubs it over the conjunction of your finger and your palm, right where it was beginning to split. He massages it in, and the relief is nearly instantaneous, surpassing the slight sting of the cold. He repeats with your other hand, until he hands the balm back to you. You tuck it away back into your pocket, and finally, finally look up at him.

He’s already looking at you, and being under his scrutiny like this, all close and personal as you’d imagined a million times, sends a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you say, and it’s more of a breath on the breeze floating between you than anything else.

He nods, but his gaze had drifted down, and now he’s looking at your lips. You swallow, he tracks the motion, and you hope he can’t hear how your heart is beating out of your chest.

“Are you finally going to kiss me?” you ask, unsure where you found the courage.

“Please,” he breathes. “Baby, can I?”

Your name is a plea on his lips, but it doesn’t sound like you name—it sounds like the term of endearment. An honorific. You barely even nod before he’s leaning in. His lips hover over yours, and you can feel his breath fanning your face as you tilt—

Shocair chuffs behind you, and you jump apart.

You’re shaking, and you don’t know if it’s in adrenaline or anticipation as his gaze finds yours, and that lopsided grin is tugging at his lips again.

“Dinner?” he asks, and he extends you his arm.

“Yeah, yeah!” You’re a little too eager to take it. And he leads you back to the school.

“That was on purpose,” you send to Shocair.

“Of course, it was,” she says into your mind. “Make him work for it.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do.” She sounds snide in your mind. “But he better be worthy of you.”

You send her an eye roll.

“You’re already falling for him. I can’t catch you if you do,” she says, and you nearly scoff aloud.

“I am not falling for him.”

“Sure.” Good gods, are dragons always this sarcastic?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Random ridiculous thot: Lloyd wearing one of his expensive, too tight polos + a ridiculous banana hammock thong speedo + his favorite pair of loafers, just because 🤣

Likely to try to get a rise, or maybe a laugh, out of you bwahaha.

The Cleaning Crew

Not much darkness, just Lloyd being his damn self.

The house is quiet thought the remnants of a rowdy night remain. You let yourself in through the front door, fingers curled under the hanger hooks that threaten to bend your tendons too far. Your toe meets an errant scotch bottle that rolls and hits the wall. 

Your next sole comes down on a pair of lacy panties. You lift your foot and turn. Odd how your employer insists that you leave your shoes at the door only to make such a mess. You suspect he likes to make you earn your money. 

The scene is akin to the morning after a frat party, though Mr. Hansen is well past those years. So are you. You go into the front room. You tut at the food on the floor and across the tinted glass coffee table.  

You go to the closet and roll out the rack to hang the shirts. You have no doubt he’s still passed out somewhere and you’re not stupid enough to wake him. Especially if he emptied that scotch bottle on his own. 

You leave the closet door open and turn, hands on hips, and sigh at the work ahead of you. He pays you well enough but you often ponder branching out. It’s not just the work, it’s him. 

You start by sweep the food and crumpled napkins, and panties into a pile. Then you work on the furniture. You’ll have to steam out the crushed quiche. Why bother with catering when it just ends up like this? 

Such a waste. You scratch dried soft cheese off the armrest. That’ll stink sooner than later. 

You dust off your hands and go to the window. You need to air this place out. You wrench open the curtain and gasp. You think you found the owner of those panties. 

The woman is passed out on the window seat, no shirt, her skirt barely on her pelvis. Her makeup is smeared and her hair is a jungle. You back up and tut. You go to retrieve the throw blanket from the seat of the velvet chair and over her with it. 

You carefully reach over her and unlatch a pane. You push it out to let in the air. You don’t judge her, you just wish better decisions are in her future. Hansen seems to be a good teacher as you’ve never seen the same lost soul twice. 

You clear away the litter then tend to the steaming of the furniture. In the cracks you find jewelry and a few bills. You leave those on the mantle.  

The vacuum doesn’t rouse the woman. You run it through the front rooms and around the kitchen and halls. You’re thorough as the morning dint shifts through the window. Next, you get out the mop and cleanse away the spilled alcohol and food. 

As you carry the bucket through the front room, your met with an unexpected sight. Hansen stand shamelessly in nothing but a skimpy pair of undergarments and velvet loafers. You’re not sure what you’d term the attire as his cheeks are out and the front is bunched into the fabric. 

His lashes are low as he dozily slips a polo from the hanger, fighting the protective plastic sheath. He growls and dispenses the latter. He swoops up the shirt over his mussed hair and grumbles, running his hand down the violet fabric with the little gold fleur-de-lis. 

You set the bucket down and scoop up the plastic bag. He sniffs and looks at you. 

“Morning,” he croaks through a dry throat. “You missed a spot.” 

He points past you to the window. The woman remains unconscious. You look at him and lift your brows. 

“You were supposed to bring these yesterday,” he poses in the shirt, his naked legs make you think of a chicken, you’re sure he’d claim the title of rooster. “Gotta go see mommy tonight. She’ll be expecting the best of baby boy.” He tugs at the hem, flexing his chest beneath the taut shirt. “Think she’ll approve?” 

You hold back the dry retort and a grimace. 

“Maybe with a pair of slacks,” you suggest. 

He cackles and taps the end of your nose, “that’s why I keep you around, Dusty.” 

You don’t react to the touch or the nickname. That’s the thing about Hansen. He wants a reaction. You’ve found the best tactic is to give none. It’s professional grey rocking. 

“So, do you need a car for tonight--” 

“I’ll be sober as a taint,” he rolls his eyes. “Mummy doesn’t like to see me drink.” 

His derision isn’t surprising. You’ve met his mother. Peripherally. It helped you understand him and the woman on the window seat. 

“Get a car for that one,” he points past you. “And any others you find.” 

“Sir,” you affirm and grab the bucket and mop. 

“Oh, and upstairs... brace yourself for that bathroom. Drysdale didn’t make it past the first course.” 

You nod, “yes, sir.” 

“But first, coffee.” He yawns and clutch his head, “I’ll take cream, whiskey, and two advil in it.” 

You step past him and his soles scuff on the floor. You go to dump the dirty water down the toilet and rinse the bucket and mop. You put it in the cleaning closet at the back of the kitchen and wash your hands. 

You measure and tap out the espresso before shoving the metal cup into the overcomplicated espresso machine. When Hansen got the thing, you asked how to use it. He shrugged and told you to figure it out. A typical command. 

“Ugh,” Hansen straggles in, still without pants. He shameless scratches his crotch. “I feel like a beat dog.” 

You don’t comment. You know better than to chide him for drinking too much. You won’t even point out he did it to himself. He’s an adult, even if he isn’t very mature. 

“The clutter in the window,” he rubs his cheeks and yawns, elbows on the counter as he leans. “It needs to be gone by the time I finish my coffee.” 

“Understood.” 

“Only fucking woman I know that can,” he mutters as he holds his head and groans again. 

You let the comment roll off you. Again, he wants a retort. Wants your hackles up. You can tell as he peeks up between his fingers. He won’t get that from you. 

“I’ll see if I can find the rest of her clothes.” 

“Well, she didn’t take em off with me,” he sits up and stretches his arms. “She passed out before we got that far.” 

“And the upstairs bathroom?” 

“Hugh will sort himself out. He’s like a cat. Leave him some water.” Hansen chuckles. “Guy’s fucked up. More than usual.” 

You turn so your thoughts don’t show. You steam the espresso and brew the cortado with hot water, adding cream, and set it before him. You go to fetch the pain killers and when you return, he’s pouring liquor from a flask into the mug. 

“I’ll deal with the guests now,” you inform him. 

“You know where the taser is,” he kids. You round the counter as he shifts. He reaches back to tug the underwear out of his ass. “These’ll need to go to the cleaner with your next batch.” 

You leave him and shake your head as you get to the front room. The visit with his mother explains a lot. He always acts out before he has to go beg for more of his trust. Nothing you need to worry about. Your work is simple. Mind the manchild’s mess. Just in the house, not beyond that. 

[shiny-kaibernyte]

If you're taking requests, I love Drayton (favorite Dragon boy) and as a Fairy trainer, I'm super curious what the romantic (and friend) dynamics would be with him. So, I guess I'm asking for Drayton x Fairy reader content? 😅🩷

This gives me opposites attract vibes. The sweet Fairy type dynamic compared to Drayton being Drayton is a vibe I can get behind!

Pixie Wings | Drayton x Reader (Fairy specialist)

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

After growing up together traveling the unnova region side by side; when Drayton moved away to blueberry academy, he felt a small part of him was left behind. But fate seemed to have other ideas when a familiar face shows up to brighten his day.

Warnings: Lots of fluff with a little bit of Lacey hate

SPOILER WARNING: Spoilers for The Indigo Disk Ending

Why is Alcremie so cute? Like look at that lil guy, lil buddy so happy to be here 💗

Today was the day, the day you would travel to the blueberry academy. The school upon the sea! For the longest time, you had spent all of your time inside a stupid office building of a school. So when one of your closest friends and yourself both received letters of enrolment to the school; the stars aligned again! Though that didn’t stop the waves of nerves rushing over you. Seems you weren’t the only one feeling them, either.

Sitting on the plane, the nerves settled deeper and deeper in your gut as the mixture of excitement and dread flooded your every thought. Questions rolling around like the ocean tide below you, covering your mind like a cloud does the sun.

“What's got you so quiet?” A voice piped up from your side, “Nerves getting the better of you?”

With a deep sigh, you scrunch your noise, fingers placed on the bridge of it. “Sorry, sorry, I just keep thinking about everything that's going to happen when we arrive. I've never gone to a place like this. Sylveon was acting up all morning too, she isn’t much of a flying fan.”

“I get that, Mimikyu is the same, I can feel his ball shaking in my pocket.” A laugh escaped the both of you as the small talk wafted the clouds away from your mind. “I know you are going to be fine! You're the best damn fairy type trainer I know, and I know a lot of them! I went to a prep school for two years. You don’t get more fairy type than a blonde teen obsessed with make up.”

“That is very true.” The smile on your lips grew bigger as you leaned back into the plane seat, looking out the window to see your destination below. “I wish I could tell Drayton about this…”

“I know…”

Time went by quickly. Upon arriving at the school, a fellow Fairy type user gave you a tour of the building and the terrarium to boot. Teaching you all about the BB League and the other clubs around the school. A nice bonding session as well with your mutual feelings on fairy type Pokémon. She was nice, her outfit was cute too, though there was something you didn't quite get along with about Lacey. “And that about sums it up! To recap, the terrarium is split into four sections, the savannah biome is where the school entrance is! If you are a battler, the BB league is located inside to the right of the stairs. The elite four bases are spread out throughout the terrarium. Be careful when you go for the dragon trial, he, um, tends to get a little full of himself. Nothing new though. Just be advised to not fuel his ego any more than it already is.”

“Will do, thank you again for this. We look forward to seeing you at the trials!” You pipe up, disregarding the comment she made about her ‘friend’. With a small wave, Lacey spun on her heel and headed off for the coastal biome.

“Well, that was something.” Your friend piped up, trying not to laugh about how awkward that last part was. “Considering she calls everyone in the BB league club her friend, the way she speaks about the Dragon elite four members says otherwise. I mean she didn’t even use his name? How can we go off of toothpaste for a name?”

“I don’t know, but I'm sure we’ll meet him. Who knows, maybe it's a sibling rivalry sort of thing between them. Kinda felt like it to me.” You question, attempting to come up with any reason she may have been particularly pokey about one member and not the rest.

The sound of a poke ball stopped your conversation dead in its tracks. Your Archaludon had decided he was bored with the conversation and wanted attention now. Sylveon may have been your first Pokémon, but Archaludon held a special place in your heart; being the only reminder of Drayton you had. It was his Duraladon after all, a parting gift he gave you. It may not have been a fairy type, but that didn’t stop you from putting a fairy tera on it. Just for argument's sake.

Sitting down on a random rock, you quietly feed Archaludon a poffin, keeping him entertained whilst your friend rummages through her bag, finally zipping it back up once she was happy with whatever she did. “Well, I'm a head inside. Lacey describing the science club got me all giddy. Joltik agrees with me.” A small chirp followed your friend's voice as her tiny joltik popped out from her hood. How you didn’t notice it this whole time is beyond you. With a silent wave, you watch her walk into the distance. You weren’t alone for long though

“Two new students in one day and no one told me!?” A voice chimed up from along the beach. A boy, taller than others you had seen during the tour. His hair was spiked up at the front in one big swoop, kind of like, toothpaste. Just like Lacey had said. Though you could only see the back of him. From his outfit, he definitely fits the bill of dragon trainer. 

That's when it hit you. Something about that hair seemed so familiar to you, and it hit you like a tauros. “Do my eyes deceive me!? Drayton? Drayton!! I can’t believe it!”

His neck snapped so fast, it was a surprise he didn’t give himself whiplash. The sound of your voice being music to his ears. Seems his feet began moving on their own; he didn’t even register he was moving till he was already hugging you tighter than a mousehold. “How are you here? What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that!” You respond, wrapping your arms around him tighter, still trying to comprehend the fact he really was there with you. “You moved to the other side of Unova!”

Drayton’s laugh coated your ears, causing your already beaming smile to brighten even more. “Well I didn’t say exactly where, probably should have mentioned the ocean school part huh.”

“Yeah, I've missed you so much, Drayton. Things just haven't been the same without your lively presence.” He had no response to that, only a simple hum as he moved away from you, his hands on your shoulders, a smile on his face. 

That's when your entire team all decided to join Archaludon outside. Sylveon comes out first, running around Drayton’s legs, her blue coat fluffing up with every pass she makes. Your Archaludon was already watching the scene, if it had a tail it would be wagging. The sight of his old trainer and his current trainer looking so happy made the bridge happier than a yamper. Vanilla Alcremi came out not long after Sylveon, doing a little happy dance alongside your Hattereen. Silently your white florges admired the situation, being the newest of the team she simply watched, enjoying the reunion that was unfolding.

“Seems you were not the only one who missed me!” Drayton chuckled, running his hand along Archaludon’s side.

“Would seem that way. When Lacey described you earlier, you were not the person I pictured.” You admitted thinking back to what Lacey said.

Drayton smiled and pulled you into his side to allow the Archaludon to nuzzle into him, his arm around your shoulder. “Ah don’t pay Lacey any mind, she isn’t too fond of my fighting style, she thinks my attitude is unprofessional. Her words, not mine.”

“Well I think your fighting style is great, even if I can beat you no problem.” A cocky grin painted on your face, teasing him.

“Oh is that so!? How about we put that to the test, then?” Drayton offered his signature smirk appearing

[imhereformr]

rivusa: no ones kissed me like that in a long time

This is part 2 of this oneshot

Musa didn’t know why she’d agreed to let Stella set her up on a blind date. Stella hadn’t even told her what the guy's name was, much less shown her a picture. But Stella had assured her that this guy was one hundred percent Musa’s type – tall, strong, as headstrong as she was – and it was nearing eighteen months since the rupture of her four-year marriage had been finalised. She needed to get back out there the girls kept insisting. And soon enough their words were in her head, and she’d convinced herself she was ready.  

She wasn’t so sure anymore.  

The restaurant Stella had chosen was unsurprisingly fancy. Musa would’ve preferred somewhere more lowkey, but Stella didn’t do lowkey. Together they had picked out a tight red and black patterned dress that hit Musa just below the knee and showed off the small waist and nice ass she’d been blessed with, and a tasteful amount of the cleavage she hadn’t.  

“Hi” Musa said to the hostess, who stared at her in shock for a moment before reverting to complete professionalism. While the people of Magix tended not to care much about celebrity sightings, the fact remained that she’d not been spotted out once since the divorce. “I’m here for a reservation under Stella Saule.”  

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest as she followed the hostess through the dimly lit restaurant, past sleek black tables and silver chairs filled with couples and friends who had no idea her stomach was about to summersault out of her body. She hadn’t been on a date in eight, almost nine, years. She had no idea how to act or what to say. Sometimes, especially in the last months of her marriage, she couldn’t even remember who she’d been before she and him became them.  

The hostess stopped at a table in a secluded back corner of the restaurant far from windows and relatively isolated from other tables. Perfect for a celebrity that people tended to flip out over, not so perfect if her date turned out to be a psychopath. “Enjoy” the hostess told them, leaving Musa staring slack jawed at the man at the table. 

Striking violet eyes returned her stare, their owner just as surprised as she was. His magenta hair was slicked back, ends brushing the collar of his suit jacket. His face looked older, more tired. But then, hers did too. But despite the few greys that speckled his hair, the lines on his face and the more polished clothes, he looked the same as the last time she’d seen him almost thirteen years earlier.  

“H-hi” she managed to get out just as her legs failed her and she dropped into the chair.  

Riven said nothing as he closed his mouth and swallowed hard, staring at her like she was a ghost. To the untrained eye, he would seem shocked and speechless, but Musa still knew him better than that. She knew from the way his lips hung open and his occasional swallows that he was trying to force out words that wouldn’t let themselves be spoken.  

“I guess you agreed to an absurdly blind date too, then?” she chuckled awkwardly, hoping to break some of the tension that had surrounded them. 

“Yeah” he choked out, a grateful smile tugging on his lips. “I... I didn’t expect...” 

“No, me neither” she admitted. Of all the men Stella could have unearthed, she could never have imagined her date being the boy she’d let get away over a decade ago.  

They settled into an uneasy silence as they browsed the menu. Musa contemplated between the fish and steak, and what to say next. The part of her that still thought about him as someone she was close to wanted to divulge her heart’s pains and her innermost thought, the things she’d kept to herself because her friends wouldn’t understand. Her more rational side reminded her that there were years between them, and he was no longer her person.  

She chose the fish. 

“How have you been?” he asked after the waitress had walked away. The question was genuine, curious. Years apart hadn’t dulled her ears when it came to his tone.  

“Getting better” she admitted after mulling over how honestly to answer. “I, well, you already know.” 

“Vented to your guitar?” he guessed with a laugh.  

“And my piano.” Riven laughed again. She wondered if he was still as hard to make laugh as he used to be or if he’d loosened up some. When they were younger, she had worn it as a badge of honour that she was one of the few people that could make him laugh easily. It was nice to know that she still could.  

“Flora suggested I try therapy, but really, who needs that when I could just vent all my feelings into chart-toppers. The payout is much better.” 

Riven laughed again. Gods, she still loved his laugh. Surly Riven became a whole new person when he genuinely laughed, more open and approachable.  

“Therapy really helped when I got divorced” he told her, chuckling at the way her eyes opened in surprise. “Well, that and a lot of time in the gym trying to work out any residual frustration. Nabu told me not to say that cause my date might think I’m a gym-rat...” 

“You are. I know you are. You always have been. You’ve been to therapy?”  

Riven told her that his ex-wife had insisted they try couples therapy when things had started going south. During the process, Riven realised that maybe he had more issues to work through than he’d let himself believe, so he asked if the therapist would be willing to take him on as an individual patient and that had been that. He’d been going ever since.  Therapy, he admitted, had probably expedited the divorce process, but in realising that they were no longer romantically suited, they broke up amicably.  

“Lucky you” Musa responded bitterly. Her own divorce had been cemented with arguments, both over the phone and in person the few times they saw each other, and many late nights crying to the girls, her guitar or a glass of wine.  

“Well, in our case, it really is for the best that we be on good terms.” At this, he stiffened and scratched the back of his neck in a habit Musa knew all too well as his nervous tick. “We, uh... I... Well, no, we -” 

“Spit it out, Riven.”  

He had a daughter. She was eight. Her name was Victoria. She was in third grade and played soccer. She had an emotional intelligence that occasionally made him question if she was his daughter, but when he showed Musa a picture of her there was no denying that she was. She shared his strong jawline and violet eyes, and pink hair that was lighter than his but only by a shade or two. 

Musa tried to take in the information as Riven stopped talking, apologizing for rambling on. “Don’t” Musa insisted. “It sounds like you really love her.”  

“I do.”  

He turned the subject over to her, listening to her attentively as she told him about the places she’d been and the things she’d tried. He admitted that he’d followed her career closely, bought every album and, during the earlier years of her career, tried to figure out which songs were about him.  

“You must’ve had a blast with my second album then.”  

“Yeah... It was really sad.” 

“I was really sad” she shrugged. “I missed you and, well, you know what I do when I feel things.”  

The album had come out a mere four months after their breakup. She had spent hours, nights and sometimes entire weekends writing and recording what would end up being her first major award-winning album. Touring that album had been bittersweet, though. Having to relive her greatest heartbreak every night for six straight months had been hell. Still, that album was one of her favourites because of how raw and emotional it was, and because it had made her wildest dreams come true.  

“It actually helped a lot, knowing that you were going through it with me even if we were apart.”  

Musa smiled sadly, reaching across the table to rest her hand on his. He dropped his fork and flipped his hand over to hold hers, gently stroking the top of her hand with his thumb. “Do you ever...” she started, “I don’t know... wonder?” 

“Wonder? What would’ve happened if we hadn’t broken up?” 

“Yeah.” She’d thought of him many times over the years, where he was, where they might be if there was still a them to speak of. They would have broken up eventually, she assumed. The Elite Forces required the utmost secrecy, and they had been Riven’s goal since he’d started working towards Red Fountain. Musa’s goals took her directly into the public eye, along with everyone in her life, especially her partner. Neither was willing to forfeit their dream, nor would they have wanted the other to.  

“Sometimes. But, hey, we’re here now. You have your career, and I’m retired from mine.” 

“You retired from the Elites?” 

“Yeah. I got what I wanted, and it cost me my marriage. Besides, the bureaucracy of it is complete bullshit. I teach combat at Red Fountain now.”  

“So you get to trash talk the students all day.” 

“Yeah, it’s fantastic. If only I’d realised years ago that I could get paid to do what I used to do for free.” 

“If only” she laughed along with him.  

“Too bad we’ll never know what would’ve happened. But, like I said, we’re here now.” 

Musa put down the fork she held and gently pulled away the hand that had been in Riven’s. She looked at him, trying to decipher if he was suggesting what she thought he was. A second chance, a do-over? Did he want that as much as she did? Was she even ready to give her heart again? “Do you mean...” 

“It can be slow, if you need time” he started, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. “I’m okay being friends to start, but I feel like I’d be doing myself a disservice if I denied that I’ve missed you so many times through the years. I don’t think I ever really... got over you. Not entirely anyways.” 

“You are not my Riven. My Riven would never have been so forward about his feelings.” 

“Therapy” he shrugged bashfully. “Is that a no?” 

“I cried for a whole week when Flora told me you were getting married” she admitted, “I was in a relationship at the time with someone I thought I loved, but when I found out I felt like someone had ripped my heart out and sewn it back in damaged and wrong.” She had broken up with that boyfriend the next time she saw him and met her husband a mere month later. She’d fallen fast and hard. At the time, she felt so much she thought it must have been true love, but in the later years of their mariage she questioned if she’d really fallen that fast or if she’d just been so heartbroken that she convinced herself she’d moved on to try to stop the pain.  

“So, yes?” 

“Slow would be nice. I gave in to this date because I felt pressured into it, and I don’t know if I’m a hundred percent ready to jump into something just quite yet.” 

... 

And it was, in a way, slow. Three months passed and they’d seen each other almost two dozen times. They used any moment to see each other: dinner, lunch, bowling, shopping, walks around the city, not to mention just hanging out or getting a quick coffee when they both had a few minutes to spare. In all the times they’d seen each other, though, they hadn’t once done more than hold hands. A real feat for the couple who had had sex the day they’d become an official couple and had dropped their first I love yous within three months.  

With Riven’s birthday coming up, she had offered to make him dinner. He would come over on the Friday night and spend Saturday – his actual birthday – with his daughter. She spent all day cooking and cleaning. Not that it mattered since Riven knew she wasn’t the spotless home kind of person, but she wanted to make a good impression. 

“How much time did you spend cleaning?” he teased as she led him through her apartment to the kitchen. He stopped at the shelf that stood by her piano, the one that held most of the awards that she’d won throughout her career. “You even dusted” he laughed, picking up the Album of the Year trophy she’d won for her second album.  

She took her award out of his hands and returned it to its place on the shelf, ignoring his commentary that he should be allowed to hold their award. “You know, since I was your muse for it” he argued.  

Musa rolled her eyes and pushed him towards the kitchen. “You can claim ten percent of the award.” 

“Ten percent?!”  

Musa barely contained her laughter at his outraged tone. She pulled a bottle of white wine out of her fridge and poured two glasses. “Yeah, well, I wrote it, composed it and performed it. All you did was exist.” 

“And I was great at that.” 

“You were alright.” 

While she finished making supper, Riven sat at the table, nursing his glass and telling her how one of his students had nearly flipped his classmate through a window earlier that day. He was a strict teacher, she had learned over the weeks. According to the politics professor, he was one of the teachers that students strove to impress in the same way the boys in Riven’s day strove to impress Codatorta.  

Musa plated the food with her heart in her stomach. When they were younger, she would make this for him regularly, especially during their time on Earth when they’d had to cook for themselves. His favourites of the things she knew how to make – fried rice with sauteed veggies and garlic shrimp – and his favourite foods – loaded baked potatoes and strawberry cake. She hoped it was stuff he still liked.  

Riven’s face lit up with the million-watt smile she’d found herself dreaming of more frequently – almost every night – in the last few months. She’d barely taken her seat before he dug in, sighing contentedly with every bite. “You know, I’ve never found garlic shrimp as good as yours. What’s your secret?” 

“I’m not telling you that” she laughed.  

Riven ate with vigor, forcing himself to slow down multiple times. It’d be a shame to get sick the first time I have this in over a decade he’d laughed as he forced himself to put his fork down for the third time. “I can’t believe you remembered all of this” he said as she brought out dessert. “Right down to the four-cheese mix on the baked potato and the candied strawberries on top of the cake.” 

“How could I forget? I made this so many times while we were on Earth. Not to mention that I made this meal for your birthday six years in a row. It was tradition. I could do this with my eyes closed.” 

“...We were only together for five birthdays?” Riven questioned, calculating aloud that they’d been together for his eighteenth to twenty-second birthdays. “Yeah, five” he reaffirmed.  

Musa admitted to him that the year they broke up, she still made the meal for herself on his birthday. It had felt wrong for his birthday to pass without making his favourite foods. She had almost sent leftovers to him via one of their friends, but she had stopped herself. “If I had sent them, they would’ve been accompanied by a message that said something like I love you, I can’t do this and then where would we be?” 

“Probably not here right now.” 

“No, probably not. I’m happy we are, though” she smiled. It felt nice smiling so freely and genuinely again. Most of the times she’d smiled or laughed in the last months of her marriage, and especially in the months following a messy divorce, had been forced or faked. The desire to smile had gotten more frequent while she healed, but it had reached a full peak with Riven. Sometimes, when he smiled at her, she felt like she’d never had her heartbroken at all.  

“Me too” he agreed, returning her smile and sending her heart soaring. “I’m especially happy to be having this fucking cake again. You know, my ex-wife never went all out for my birthday the way you used to.” 

“Oh?” 

Riven caught her expression and shook his head. “That’s not a complaint against her, just a fact. She never had the reason to; by the time I met her, you had already convinced me that my birthday was worth enjoying.” 

Gods, she could have cried tears of joy at that statement. Musa hadn’t even known it was his birthday that first year. What she knew was that he’d aced an exam he had been stressed about, so she had scraped together what little money she had and rented them a room that came with a full kitchen. She made supper, they made love, then they spent the rest of the night watching true crime documentaries and complaining about stupid criminals or stupid cops. It was only as they were getting ready for bed, when she got a text from Stella about Bloom’s birthday (in almost two whole months), that she realised she didn’t know when his was. Today he’d admitted quietly, insisting it wasn’t a big deal when she flipped out because why hadn’t she known that. No one had ever celebrated his birthday she would learn a few months later, so she made a point of going all out for it.  

Musa reached out her hand and took his. He looked at her so softly and lovingly. She had fallen in love with him again, she knew it. She’d been clued off by the fact that she was constantly searching for reasons to text or call him, or finding little things that reminded her of him, or imagining him and his smile and his eyes and his body. The hundred-odd love songs she’d written in the last two months confirmed it for her.   

“Dance with me?” he asked her suddenly, breaking the easy silence that had fallen between them and the string of lyrics that had been forming in her mind. She couldn’t even be mad; they’d come back to her eventually.  

Riven stood up, pulling her forward by their still-interlocked fingers. “There’s no music” she pointed out, ignoring that she was literally the fairy of music.  

“When has that ever stopped you?”  

Musa assented, letting him pull her up and towards the open space in the living room where he spun her around and caught her effortlessly. His ex-wife had made him take dance lessons before the wedding, he’d admitted when pressed about how he’d become so smooth. Riven, who had apologised profusely when he stepped on her toes the first time they’d danced together, pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her waist as they swayed slowly in place. “Despite the dance classes,” he chuckled, “this is still significantly more my speed.” 

“At least you won’t step on my feet this time.” 

“No guarantees” he laughed again.  

Musa leaned into him, placing her head against his chest. They hadn’t hugged at all since they had reconnected, and Musa quickly figured out why. She never wanted to let him go. She wanted to stay here, listening to his heartbeat, warm in his arms. Riven rested his cheek on the top of her head, pulling her in closer – if that was possible – as they continued to sway.  

“Muse?”  

She felt herself melt at the nickname. He hadn’t called her that since they’d broken up – no one had. “Hmm?” 

“I know we said slow – and I’m still okay going slow if that’s what you need – but I’d... I’d really like to kiss you right now if that’s okay.” 

Her heart leaped out of her body, running around in circles screaming at the top of its lungs in excitement at the thought of his lips. She’d found herself (day)dreaming of them lately, wondering if they were still as soft and if his kisses would still be as hungry.  

Musa tilted her head to look at him, locking eyes with him as he watched attentively for her reaction. She nodded mutely, weakly, as she drowned in his eyes, drowned in the look she recognised all too well. Soft and sparkling; he was falling as hard as she was. It was the way he’d looked at her for three years – maybe even before that if Flora was to be believed – when things were good between them. “Y-yeah” she managed.  

Their lips met, soft and sweet. She melted into him – almost literally this time – letting her body drape against his so he had to hold her closer. There was a tenderness that was new to her, a caring and gentility that made her smile into the kiss. Riven pulled away, breaking the kiss when she felt him start to deepen it the way she wanted.  

Her arms around his neck stopped him from getting too far, and he didn’t fight them. Riven smiled sweetly, and, Gods, she couldn’t help herself. She pulled him back to her, kissing him with all the fervor she could muster. His arms tightened around her, lifting her so she had her legs firmly wrapped around his waist, as he deepened the kiss until she felt the desire in her core.  

He was magic, sparking up her entire body, sending her reeling, and making her breathless. Musa thought their kisses had been heaven before, but it turned out she’d never even experienced heaven until now. No matter what happened, she was never letting this go. She was never letting him go. Not again.  

“No one’s kissed me like that in a long time – maybe ever” she whispered as they finally, reluctantly, pulled apart, and she leaned her forehead against his.  

“I’ll make it my life’s mission to make sure you never have to live without being kissed like that again.” 

Musa chuckled, tapping him lightly on the shoulder as he moved to seat her on the back of the couch. “Stop it with the knight in shining armour thing.” 

“You used to get mad at me for not being the knight in shining armour!” he argued half-heartedly. He placed a kiss on her forehead and smiled at her. Musa beamed in return; her heart felt like it was soaring. "Besides” he continued, eyes shining at her in adoration, “it’s already a known fact that I would go to war for you and die for you.” 

“It used to be” she countered, her soaring heart skipping a beat as she remembered the flash of magenta as he jumped in front of her, and the panic she felt when she realised what he’d done. She wondered if the scar on his chest – the one he’d refused to have healed so that anyone who saw it would know how much he loved her, an admission he’d made in the dark of night two years after the scar had healed – was still there.  

“I’m having lunch with our friends Sunday” he told her abruptly.  

“You are?” she questioned with a raised eyebrow. Of course they wouldn’t have invited her. They had had to plan activities separately for years for fear that things would be as awkward between Musa and Riven as they had been during the post-breakup days. Stella – who presumably hadn’t told anyone about her brilliant blind date idea – wouldn't have invited her, not after they had lied to the Solarian queen about Musa standing Riven up.  

“I’d like to surprise them with my new girlfriend.” 

“You mean your old girlfriend?” Musa assumed he meant her. Their friends would be happy they were on speaking terms again.  

“I mean... both, I guess. My old new girlfriend.”  

Musa leaned back slightly, taking in his bashful smile and blushing cheeks. She smiled, leaning into him teasingly as she spoke: “Is this you asking me to be your girlfriend?” 

“Yes” he mumbled, so like teenage Riven who hated acknowledging his feelings. Unlike teenage Riven, though, he met her eyes when he spoke.  

"Yes” she smiled, pulling him back into a kiss so deep it had her tumbling backwards onto the couch. Riven tried to catch her as she fell, but he couldn’t stop laughing at her long enough to make a proper attempt. Musa sat up and pulled him towards her, not caring that he had to climb ungracefully over the back of the couch to join her on the cushions or that she was laughing so hard that her cheeks hurt.  

Safely placed on the couch, he kissed her again.  

She felt like a teenager. Between the love-struck way Riven had her feeling, and the fact that they spent the night alternating between watching true crime documentaries, making out and talking, she swore she was still nineteen. It was nearing midnight when Riven reluctantly told her that he should be heading home.  

“Don’t go just yet...” she begged, wanting to hold him just a little bit longer. She knew that this feeling would last for hours after he was gone, and that he would only be gone for a short while, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to be in his arms, in his presence, for just a few more minutes.  

“We’ll see each other Sunday” he laughed, kissing her on the forehead when she gave him pouty eyes she knew he wouldn’t say no to. “Okay. I’ll stay, but just a little bit longer.” 

Musa smiled and kissed him again, reveling in the smile she felt on his lips when she kissed him.  

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: Random Messages You May Need 🌈🎆⛅

Sup, y'all. I'm finally back for another pick a card reading. I really apologize if folks have not heard from me over the past month, I meant to get this reading (among other things) out a while ago. I have not been able to touch tarot for the past few weeks. Life has been… topsy turvy, to say the least. Heh heh. [sweating profusely]

I meant to have another game out and to have paid readings available by now--that is still part of the plan. What was meant for June will be in July. So this blog might go from 0 to 100 mph real soon, to move along with plans as intended!

I was loosely inspired by the Baker pride flag from 1978 for this group selection. These piles are pretty nondescript: each one contains a random message that may resonate with you. Pick based on whichever color of the Prism Oracle speaks to you most, and feel free to choose more than one. Take only what resonates.

Pile 1 - Strength (Red) Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange) Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow) Pile 4 - Movement (Green) Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise) Pile 6 - Trust (Blue) Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet) Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

Pile 1 - Strength (Red)

10 of Swords, Insight

You've been asked by the universe to put up with a lot, especially recently. You're reaching a finish line of a very long and brutal marathon. There have been too many times where you questioned whether or not to throw in the towel. If you have, you may also have questioned whether or not it was the correct choice. Sometimes, things don't work out, and it's better to move on. It can be difficult to hold everything up when one thing after another seems to fall apart at the seams, but either way you're being reminded of the light at the end of this long and turbulent tunnel.

Collect yourself, pick up what pieces you can. Time has shifted everything, but the essentials still stand. Gather the wisdom you have learned from this ordeal. There is still beauty to be found in the decay, glittering gems in the rough.

Maybe you don't want to get stronger. Healing may feel like a better option than grinding for difficult experience points. Give yourself the rest and repair you need. Let go of only that which is keeping you from starting again, but you don't need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. You've gained so much wisdom and strength, this trial wasn't without gain. Treasure it and begin anew.

Pile 2 - Happiness (Orange)

2 of Swords, Clarity

Whatever answers you seek are coming to you. Or perhaps they've already arrived; open your eyes and see for yourself. You may be wondering which path will satisfy you more. The process of reconciling this could take forever unless you lean on your gut here. This can't be decided based on intellect alone, for you could get stuck mulling it over for days. Imagining all the different possible outcomes could be taxing for your brain, so narrow it down. Eliminate the weakest links and home in on what excites you. It should feel like an "aha, yes!"

If you cannot see the answer right away, go within to the realm of imagination. Feel your way through. Visualize not just with sight but with yearning. Does the light of the sun make you feel hopeful? Does the cool rain make you feel relaxed? Would an art class expand your capacity to imagine many things, or would taking a science class?

The X mark in 2 of Swords is like a railroad crossing sign. Redirect that train of thought into brighter and more positive avenues of expression. Say "what if" as if you can't wait for something to happen. "What if I saw a shooting star tonight? What if my cute neighbor asked me out?" Let the future shine its beacon for you. It will all make sense in due time.

Pile 3 - Illumination (Yellow)

Ace of Cups, Reconciliation

Have you been staying up way too late trying to figure everything out? Please give yourself a brain curfew: no problem solving or saving the day after 10 pm! I'm getting that you may tend to ruminate on the same strong emotions. For some I'm getting that there is a crush here. There's inconsistent text messaging. I know it's easy to get too nervous about their reply, but try to wait until at least the next day to hear back. They may need time to formulate their words right. They may not even see your message straight away. Take it all in stride and sleep on it; if they want to reach out to you, then they eventually will.

For others in this pile, you may be going through a rough patch with another person right now and could be wondering how things will pan out. Give them time to respond, they could still be processing it. Stay on the more positive end of things with the idea that things will work themselves out. I feel like if you can manage this in a relaxed and non hurried way, the knot will untangle easily. The coffee in the Ace of Cups is very hot, so give it a chance to cool.

There is opportunity in your near future to make up for something that went awry due to a miscommunication error. You may get a chance to make up for a test, appointment, or an interview. You will receive grace for any mishaps. Remember that tomorrow won't necessarily be the same as today, so cherish both the good you have now along with the good that soon awaits you.

Pile 4 - Movement (Green)

IX Hermit, Devotion

Looks like things are progressing faster than you even thought they would. You may be blinking your eyes in partial disbelief: could this ball really be rolling? Indeed, thanks to your efforts, goals are being met and results are more evident by the day. You eschewed a lot of distractions to make this work, so give yourself a pat on the back for the level of commitment you put into it. Some of you in this pile may have just graduated, if so then congratulations! But try not to get too comfortable with your laurels, for you have a long road ahead of you in whatever you do next. This one completion is the start of many.

Does that thrill you? If so, wonderful! On the other hand, some of you may be feeling uncertain about continuing. You may be reviewing your options to see if this really is worth pursuing. Something that requires a lot of dedication and focus on it to the exclusion of all else… yeah, I can see how that can get tiring after a long time. There are folks who can get their Master's right after their Bachelor's, or have another child right after the first, but people can also happily move on to what feels more right for them instead.

It's okay to stop and assess your tracks if necessary. Taking time off is not the same as quitting. It's not losing motivation, it's recovering it. This is your passion and your discipline, not anyone else's. If you need to give other parts of your life more room to breathe, then do so with the confidence that your great work will wait for you.

Pile 5 - Flow (Turquoise)

4 of Wands, Hospitality

Have you been stuck with something for a while? There's a strong sense of a blockage that is being eroded away over time. This process can be sped up by allowing the ice to thaw a little more. "Break the ice." You may be wanting to open up and spend more quality time with other people but don't know how. Or you could be faced with meeting new people and being nervous about interacting with them. Even more so if they're roommates. A few people in this pile could be moving or have just moved. This is a chance to ease up and get to know new people.

This blockage could be a result of the past and of anxiety. The sound of a turning doorknob just jumpscared me as I typed the last sentence. You may benefit from learning about social anxiety and how to manage it. It's not an overnight job for you to fix this, though, but to just be aware of it and not allow it to get in the way of positive change in your life.

If you're struggling to figure out how to deal with meeting new people, I would suggest looking up videos or how-tos on social interaction, especially if a certain etiquette is required for an event. Learn about conversation starters and fun things you could do together like hosting a game night. Practice makes perfect, and over time the blockage will melt into the stream.

Pile 6 - Trust (Blue)

3 of Swords, Conversion

You have a very soft and tender outlook on life, which makes it all the more painful when reality doesn't conform to such a compassionate vision. It doesn't always try to respond to vulnerability in appropriate ways. Much of the time, this isn't from natural events as much as it stems from the ways in which people can treat one another cruelly. You've had some toxic people in your life who have put you through the wringer and attempted to squeeze every ounce of kindness they could from you. Making light of this pain to them only resulted in further deflection and antagonism on their part. The only outcome was to salvage whatever you could and pray for the best.

It is not your job to change their closed minded perspectives. They're on their own, here. Do not concern yourself with their messy inner world and lose any more of your energy. Also, do not attempt to regain what energy has been lost through bargaining either, as much as it hurts to press onward without looking back. You will recover, but you have to move on first and prioritize what you deeply care about most (you included).

There will come a time when your heart will be healed so you can see the brighter side of human connection again. All the beauty that your gentle soul is seeking is still there, shrouded by layers of protective petals that will one day bloom again and your life will truly flourish. For now, this is a time to give yourself all the comfort you can.

Pile 7 - Intuition (Violet)

XII Hanged Man, Spring

I get the feeling that you've been waiting quite a while for some good results to come in. This could either be from something that you started back in the spring, or are waiting to see results which may come around springtime. It is a season of flowers, so you may be waiting for this thing to blossom--that is, to be fully presentable to the public in some way. To have something to show for the time you put in. Like "hey, this is what I've been working on, this came from the seeds I planted." It could be growing in a direction unlike what you're used to, leaving you wondering how it could succeed in such unusual and burdensome conditions.

Lean on your inner guidance when it comes to the right timing. I don't believe that you're currently in a space where you need to push so hard for the best results. You can let things move at their own pace. Over tending to anything can end up in just as much trouble as neglect. There's only so much you can do before you have to let the flower do the growing and blooming for itself.

It's not always easy to sit in the place of uncertainty with the idea that doing more will provide more. But sometimes less is more. What you're creating is coming to fruition and may even turn out better than you expected. Trust in both the knowledge you've earned over time from learning lessons, as well as your natural intuition, to help you decide when it's time to take action.

Pile 8 - Love (Pink)

7 of Swords, Gossip

Let your heart lead the way here, not your worries over what others will think. Sure, you may end up with some people talking about you, but opportunities will keep passing by if you wait for everyone else to catch up to you. Leaning too much on everyone else's perspectives will only distort the vision you have for your own life journey. We all have unique journeys to go on, but unconditional kindness remains at the center of the Love card, the one thing that brings us together. Following life from a heart centered place may result in having others glance over and whisper, but that shouldn't distract you.

There is a rather delicate message here about dealing with friendships, colleagues, or possibly even family. You may have a tricky situation between several other people right now who have beef not with you but with each other. They may be coming to you to air their grievances and ask for advice.

If you care about both of these people, then it's best to approach this issue as diplomatically and impartially as possible and avoid feeding into the conflict. What would an enlightened mindset do in this situation? How would you want the other person to behave if they were in your shoes? Come from a place of pure compassion. They may choose to make amends or not, it's up to them. If their butting heads is bringing you down, it's always okay to step back and take a break. You are not responsible for what's going on in their heart, only your own, so protect yours well.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

(A little bit of something different today! We wanted to elaborate on some headcanons we have about everyone’s elemental attacks– they all use the same animations in-game, but we really liked the idea that the elements people use would look/behave/manifest in ways that reflect their personalities, just like their Personas do!)

(Some of these headcanons were mentioned briefly during the scene where Shinji watches the battle against the Hanged Man Shadow from his hospital room window, but we thought it would be fun to elaborate on them further!)

Electricity: This is the one that got the most elaboration within the scene we mentioned. Minato’s electric attacks take on the form of ball lightning, also known as St. Elmo’s Fire (although apparently the name St. Elmo’s Fire is also applied to a completely different kind of weird-lightning-phenomenon, which is very confusing lol), and they’re blue-to-violet in color– think of the colors you see in those plasma ball lamps! Ken creates discrete, precise lightning strikes that are bright gold– very much the image that might come to mind when you think of Zeus’ bespoke thunderbolts. Akihiko’s lightning is huge and bombastic, spider-webbing in all different directions and giving off bright, bright white light. .

Ice: Minato manifests ice magic as snow and sleet while Mitsuru creates glacial ice– crystalline and incredibly translucent with a luminous blue color Another big difference between Minato and Mitsuru’s ice magic is that Minato’s tends to freeze a target from the outside-in, while Mitsuru’s freezes outward from the target’s core .

Fire: Minato’s fire magic is blue of course! Think Azula from AtLA Junpei’s fire is bright orange and it’s very big and flashy, but doesn’t burn especially hot– it’s more like a campfire than a wildfire. Part of this is because he’s just not a magic specialist, and part of it is a reflection of the warm and friendly side of his personality. Koromaru’s fire magic has a distinct brimstone smell to it, and sometimes has a greenish tinge around the edges. Jin’s fire attacks create a lot of thick, dark, oily smoke, like an old diesel engine. It smells very strongly of gasoline and hot metal as well. Chidori’s fire attacks look different almost every time she uses one– her magic is as unpredictable and unstable as Medea herself is. She tends to end up a little singed herself when she uses it, but the injury is almost always minor enough that her healing abilities undo it pretty much immediately. .

Wind: Minato’s wind attacks are cold; they smell a little like ozone, like they came from a storm. Yukari’s wind attacks are hot, like the kind of baking wind you’d find in a desert. Her healing magic on the other hand feels like a pleasant spring breeze– the kind that feels just cool enough if you’re overheated or comfortably warm if you were cold. .

Bless: As an aside– yes we continue to refer to Bless and Curse in this fic even though Reload uses Light and Dark– we just like it better lol. Minato’s manifests cool, silvery moonlight in his bless attacks, while Ken’s magic is a warm, buttery gold like sunlight. .

Curse: Minato’s curse magic looks almost like if you took the light from a blacklight and made it into physical matter. Koromaru’s looks like shadows (literal, lower-case s shadows) becoming physical matter as well Takaya’s curse magic works almost like a black hole: the light in the surrounding area seems to get absorbed and devoured .

Bonus healing magic headcanons, since we mentioned Yukari’s: When Minato heals, it feels like taking a long drink of cold water when you were parched Akihiko’s healing feels like getting a shot of adrenaline Ken’s feels like standing in sunlight, aches fading under its warmth Aigis’ feels like applying antiseptic to a wound: a sharp sting that nonetheless feels clean afterwards When Fuuka’s Theurgy manifests as a party-wide heal, it feels like buoyancy– like a lightness on your feet as fatigue is washed away Chidori’s healing feels like the injury reversing itself; the process can feel incredibly unpleasant, but afterwards it’s like you were never hurt at all

[fanaticsnail]

Oh shit the Yandere Doflamingo and that scene from Beauty & the Beast "If she doesn't eat with me, she doesn't eat at all." is so Doffy 🫠

Extra points if he calls her "princesa" which is Spanish (in OP world it would be Dressrosan I guess?) for princess. It has this very nice sound in Spanish.

Extra extra points if he never called any previous royalty by their title bcs why should a Celestial Dragon call anyone royalty? He's the only real royalty! (in his head) But then he calls reader princess (not putting the Reader's name after the title bcs it's still Doffy) It acts as an endearment mostly, but the servants & his crew are like "are we dreaming, did he actually call a princess princess, wtf is happening?"

Would be even better if he sometimes called her "mi princesa" (my princess) he'd be so comforting and such a KIND KING with her.

We need a scene where he gets on a bent knee and takes her hand and kisses her knuckles. Maybe when he saves her from an assassin from the enemy that ruined her country, assuring her nobody will hurt her in Dressrosa? He could cover her eyes with his hand so she doesn't see him decapitate the man after he gets all the information out of him.

Doffy can 100% pretend to be a nice guy the thing is how much patience does he have to endure it ie the time period, cus I think the mask falls of quick if he isn't careful. Though, he was called a charming devil... But yeah, he'll need to tone everything else down around Reader. It'd be so funny.

Not that he'll let his princess escape the gilded cage of strings he spent his time weaving around her even after she sees the reality of the King of Dressrosa...

Maybe she sees him decapitate one of the dukes that got on his nerves? Maybe she hears how he snaps at Violet when she suggests Reader is a "spoiled princess" in an attempt to save her and Doflamingo grabs her by the throat and squeezes her neck and nearly breaks it from absolute rage.

"Yes, but that's how princesses are supposed to be. They can be like that because they have a strong king to protect them. Weak kings can't protect anything."

And then his guards catch his princess trying to flee the next night. How can she be so ungrateful and try to leave? He gave her everything! He wasn't even cruel! He was good with her!

Well, he knows the solution to that little escape attempt...

After all, kings can marry princesses, can't they...

And Dressrosa needs a queen. If she wants to keep his cruelty in check in court, perhaps she should just marry him... having her sit on his lap on his throne as he listens to the rabble of the dukes and whatnot would probably stay his fingers from twitching... His fingers would be too busy cradling her to do anything cruel.

Ugh, and maybe he always brings her pink roses or things she likes just as he always scoured for food for his mom... 😭😭😭 What if he always bends his knees and slouches his spine or sometimes when she is sitting in an armchair he squats to talk to her? What if he gets to finally talk about all the books he reads because Reader is such a great listener and the excitement on her face as she listens to him talk about the recent book he read makes him talk about it more just so he can have her smile all to himself... And then she reads a book she likes to him and he nearly falls asleep on her lap. His mother always read him books in Mariejois while little Doflamingo sat on her lap.

He'd be so protective of her, he wouldn't let her out of the palace unless he is with her or one of his executives. Beause when his mother left Mariejois, she got sick beause his father could not take care of her. His princess and his mother are both flowers that can only survive in the best garden, where they are tended to and spoiled by all the luxuries the world can provide. It's where they bloom the brightest.

Only in the garden of a god can flowers like his mother and Reader be safe and live life.

"Silly little thing... You won't last a day out there in that cruel, ruthless world. Stay here with your king."

Excuse me while I squeal and clutch at my heart. Prior yandere Doffy ask here.

Any time I hear "My princess," in any given context, all I see is this absolutely beautiful scene from The Mummy:

It just needs to be a fic, doesn't it? At the rate I'm falling for Doflamingo, it needs to be its own fic. Your prompt is spectacular, thank you so much for adding to the great simpening for the King of Dressrosa. The head in the lap, the reading to him as he slowly falls asleep: my heart can simply not take such sweetness and softness from the king.

This is so incredibly romantic, thank you for steering me in a direction I need to go in for it. There's so many things I want to write for this lanky man: the marine doctor in impel down, yandere Doffy, his Sapsorrow spinoff with Rosinante, kissing booth kisses, I love him. Send help.

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: MOOOOM VIO BIT MEEEE-

ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉⁿᵗ, ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ˢᵉˡˡ ʰᶦᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶦᵐᵃˡ ˢʰᵉˡᵗᵉʳ

sorry for being so late lol, reblogs and comments appreciated <3 I like hearing y'all's thoughts

Part 1/ Part 2 / Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5

The two boys sit bruised and scratched. They had to remove their shirts to let Green "assess the damage."

Red's returned with their home medical kit. Quickly apologizing for taking so long, Red quickly excuses himself to get some ice to aid the swelling as soon as his bumbling fingers lay out the basic bandages and disinfectant by Greens spot on the coffee table.

Blue feels his heart sink lower. He really just left. Red left. He doesn't blame him. Red hates conflict, especially when its between them. Before Red went upstairs, the boy had shot him one last look, before scurrying up. He was disappointed. Deeply hurt by Blue. That after all the conversations and love and care he'd been given, he'd just callously screwed it up or something. It was stupid and it made Blue want to bash his head into the floor.

Vio starts to stand, seemingly to leave entirely, it carries that same air of being better than everyone else and- Well, as much as Blue has always hated it, it shows self control over the situation. He isn't cowed and he isn't some child that's going to be rightly chastised like Blue is.

Green roughly snatched Vio's arm, so fast it was almost a slap, and yanks him back down. Vio sits.

Red, from his view watching from above the stairs, would have genuinely had a lot more anxiety over the tension and fighting if he didn't want to do the same towards both of them. And it was Green doing it to, not just some school teacher or superior knight. There would be no escape for the broken and the bruised.

Vio can feel Green's eyes searing into him. He refuses to meet them. Green's hands move and turn parts of him to check the worst of it. He tsks at the inflammation at the base of his ear where Blue had yanked it. Grumbles at the long bleeding scratches from glass that's still in his skin. The cleaning alcohol burns. He endures it.

At some point Blue reaches out to the medical kit, likely to start taking care of himself instead of quietly waiting for Green to finish tending to Vio's. Or maybe to save himself from the aggressive cleaning process that even Vio struggles to restrain his winces of pain to.

His hand is smacked just as quickly. Both Blue and Vio know what the other knows. And that is that Green is becoming more tense. Blue hates this. Green's finished up with Vio and grimly begins accessing Blue in the same cold cut manner. Shock colors his face, until its replaced with a dark scowl. A touch of disbelief still resides though. He must've found the bite mark. Because Vio bit him like a fcking animal.

Eventually the hard stings and pressure resides, as the last of the gashes and cuts are firmly bandaged. Green's not the best at this sort of thing, Blue has always been better, the ties and bandages will probably come undone before its ready. Blue doesn't dare mention it.

Green slumps over, so much tension leaving all at once. It almost shocks Blue for a moment, thinking Green had fallen. Green's head hands low, his messy bangs covered his face, ears hanging low. One of his hands covers his face, seemingly too exhausted to know what to do anymore.

"I'm going to give you both one chance to explain."

Green rises, staring at the ceiling as he dips backwards, resting hs body weight on his arms behind him, "I don't know what Vio said or why Blue felt the need to punch in response but-"

OH HE KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN- Blue always gets blamed for everything!

"He's the one who PUNCHED ME?!" Blue can't help it- Clenched first raise to his heart and anger has started up again- He can't just sit there a single moment more he can't he can't he can't-

Green's head snaps up, posture upright once more. With slightly raised shoulders and cautious look he briskly locks eyes with Blue. Red gasps, halfway down the stairs in the distance. Blue can hear the relief, and immediately his heart rests, even if just a bit. Red believed him.

Red shares a growing confused look with Green.

Ever so slowly, Green's eyes trail towards the silently stoic and stubborn blonde that hadn't spoken a single word. Vio stares ahead, drilling a hole into the wall, with that quiet intensity that has always unsettled him.

The moment of uncertainty makes Blue's head buzz, heart pumping full of adrenaline for some unknown reason. The moment before battle, when you wait for your enemy's first move.

"I did."

Green jaw drops. Red squeaks out a strangled noise of shock.

"Vio," Green starts, "Wha- Why? WHY??"

"He deserved it."

The icy phrase spears through his gut, twisting cruelly. The burning nearly doubled within seconds. An icy blast tears through his insides and spreading- If he doesn't move now he'll be consumed before he even processes anything.

"I DIDN'T do anything wrong!" It's nearly spit out, his face in an ugly death stare. Blue forces himself to not say more or burst out in loud yells or punches. That's how he always wins.

A swift uncaring response as Vio begins studying his nails, "Except exist apparently."

OH LISTEN YOU LITTLE FU-"

But before Blue can strangle him, Green grips their shoulders and forces them apart. Blue's chest is heaving and Vio is grimacing as he tries to pry off or at least ease the tight grip Green has them in. It is. Very, very tight.

Two seconds pass and it's clear they've both shut up. Not without giving each other dirty looks of course.

So they're bandaged up. Vio probably doesn't have a concussion. His wrist could use some work though. Blue is probably hopefully not going to get rabies and his nose doesn't seem.. too broken. Neither get a full potion. The deeper cuts become more shallow, but the potion only takes care of the worst. Their bruises are even more inflammed now with the passage of time, red turning to dark purples and blues. Green would love the irony if he wasn't still fuming.

Green tells them both to head to bed.

But before anyone can do anything Red appears, ever the peacemaker, "Hahaha- OKAY, uhm so-."

It's clear Red is trying to make his way into the situation and try to do some damage control. One hand a soft pressure on Green's shoulder, and the other holding his hand as he anxiously looks between all of them.

"No ones even eaten dinner yet! So, you know, we should probably make some food and could we please just take a break and talk about how everyone feels-"

Green cuts him off, softly this time, deflated but not defeated, "We can make something quick for ourselves. They need to go right now."

There's something about the tone, maybe the exhaustion, the pain? But there is a gentleness and understanding with compassion for Red. And a silent plea.

Red is visibly dispirited and disheartened but seems to accept it, nodding mutely.

Green embraces Red.

Green blankly hands them their bloodied tunics and shirts, before tilting his head towards the stairs to gesture they leave.

Vio leaves before Blue does, so before Vio makes it beyond halfway up the stairs, Green calls his attention for a moment.

Why out of all people was Vio the one who started it? Why would he ever do that?

Vio's response is the same. "He deserved it."

Blue somberly mutters something about how he was just saying about how Vio could lift his weight on chores for once.

Vio is gone. Red is conflicted and hurt. Blue only just starts to say sorry, but Green is already telling him to just g o.

Blue does.

Slow heavy steps echo through the house as they head upstairs and to their separate rooms.

Red hates fighting. It was too late, there was nothing to say anymore.

He still cries though.

He tries to be strong.

Green needs him tonight.

[leth-writes]

Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warning: This is 18+ due to discussions of sex

Let’s just say you’re betrothed. Doesn’t really matter what family you’re from.

Your first meeting is definitely awkward. He’s coId and calculating, more focused on the sense of power that the marriage will bring.

Part of this is definitely insecurity due to his appearance. He’s convinced he’s absolutely unattractive, and he deals with that feeling through pushing everyone else away. He’s easy to anger, and might antagonize your family just to get away with it

After the wedding, you spend some time alone, just getting to know each other, on the wishes of Alicent.

It’s tough at first; he has a way of talking that can set you off. You get into a lot of fights, and that feisty personality really forces him to back down; having someone genuinely challenge him, not physically but verbally, boosts his level of respect for you immensely.

Don’t let him talk down to you; call him out on anything he says that’s rude

“Wow, did it take you all day to come up with that line?” just a little sarcastic one-liner will completely disarm him. He isn’t used to people outside of his family standing up to him.

Seeing you hold your own against him really starts to get him enamored with you. He really admires that quick, cool wit and how well you’re able to keep that calm demeanor

He would quickly start to fall for either a really fiery partner, or one who’s got that calm, take-no-shit demeanor

Eventually, what really makes him fall in love is the way you deal with his eye. Not being scared or disgusted by it will really help him get closer to you. It’s his biggest sense of insecurity. It’s best if you either have no strong reaction, finding the scar not a big deal, or if you tell him how beautiful you find the violet hue of his eye.

It’ll bolster his confidence, especially if you tell him how hot you find the scar and his eye, and he might even start leaving the eyepatch off for longer periods of time when the two of you are alone

Loves reading to you, your head cuddled in his lap and staring up at him lovingly.

He lives for those quiet moments where he doesn’t have to be some big, intimidating force, and he can just be.

As his wife, you get a lot of questions. About his eye, about his personality, everything.

He’s fiercely protective. He doesn’t want you to realize how much better you are than him, so he protects you from the harsh realities of court life.

Loves showing off. Please compliment him on his swordwork

He’ll show you some moves in private, easily disarming and pinning you. You can surprise him and win the sparring match by kissing him. The surprise will shock him so bad he’ll forget what he’s doing and you can defeat him 🙂

He LOVES you

Oh my god he thinks you’re incredible. He thinks you’re way out of his league, and he often finds his breath taken away by your beauty and grace.

You’ve absolutely revolutionized the way he views love. He had always viewed relationships as largely transactional; as a way to get what he wants and secure his position and his legacy

You make him believe in unselfish, kind love.

NSFW

Aemond loves giving oral. It’s probably the thing he spends the most time on throughout your time together

Loves eating you out, if you’re interested.

Really sensitive. The eye tends to put people off, so he doesn’t actually have all that much experience. He tries to make up for it through working hard to get you off as many times as possible

Genuinely tends to accidentally overstimulate you. Push his head away if you need a breather, or even better, guide him by his hair.

If you’re the dominant partner, take your time. He’s sensitive from not having much experience.

If he starts getting cocky, pull his hair. Gently or hard, whatever your preference. He’ll surprise himself with the strength of the groan he release, vibrating through his chest like thunder.

Going down on him but not letting him cum is probably the best way to get him thrashing and begging.

Even when he does beg, it’s very lowkey. He makes it seem like it’s for your own good.

“Aren’t you tired of that, little dove? Wouldn’t you prefer to sit on my cock?”

(forgive me for that line)

Speaking of his cock, it’s lean and smooth with a nice curve, though it’s just slightly over average. Still, it hits all those spots just right, and it’s not too hard to fit in your mouth, especially if you use him as practice to train out his gag reflex 🙂

[goddessofroyalty]

I binged read all of your Zaun Family posts (all amazing, btw), and I couldn't get this idea of my head. I work retail, so I often see parents dealing with tantrums from their kids. I wanted to know how Vanco reacted/dealt with temper tantrums with each of their children.

I'd imagine Viktor and Claggor being more tame. They'll beg, pout, and cry, but they'll be more quiet about it if that makes sense. Violet would be in the middle. She would kick and stomp but not cry or scream, just be angry and cross her arms. Milo and Jinx, however, would have the worst. There is no doubt they'd do the whole nine yards.

I think it would be interesting to know their reactions. (Bonus points if you do a version with JayVik and their kid)

When Viktor's younger yeah I think he's more of a sulk and cry kind of a tantrumer. As soon as he gets his own bedroom he's also the one that retreats to his room to sulk but he will also just stand his ground and refuse to move. He's also the one with the most scathing tongue and tends to throw out things his parents didn't know he knew about in his argument for why he should do/get what he wants. It's still a tantrum in that it's an extreme emotional response to not getting his way but it's also very similar to Silco's own way to handling when things aren't going his way. He's actually the one Silco's argued the most with over his childhood because Silco doesn't like letting even his child have the last word. Vander, who has had years of experience dealing with effectively the more mature version of the behaviour because of Silco, is able to more patiently wait for Viktor to calm down and try and/or talk him around.

Claggor goes really quiet and yeah pouts likely with his arms crossed and one really sharp stomp. Which neither Silco nor Vander exactly want him to change because that's kind of the easy temper tantrum to deal with in terms of it's not exactly drawing attention to the situation. And they are probably somewhat guilty of ignoring him as a result. Yes when it's something they deem more 'rational' to be unhappy about they'll try and explain their resoning and compromise with him. But if they've decided it's something he's just being a brat about they will ignore him as he sulks.

So you know how I said Viktor is very similar to Silco in how he tantrums? Yeah Vi is Vander. She's the violent one who stomps her feed and slams her hands against walls but she's not one who yells a lot or really cries. And unfortunately for her because Vander knows where that can lead because he's gone down that path which ended with that night on the bridge, he tends to come down on her like a tonne of bricks when she does it. He does take the time to talk to her again after but in the immediate he is pretty harsh in shutting it down. Silco is much more patronizing in his response (because this is a child trying to Be Threatening) but it isn't Immediate Grounding and he'll more just wait her out.

Mylo is one who takes it out on others. He gets in trouble or is told no and five minutes later Powder is crying because he tore her bunny out of her hands. Or Viktor or Vi are yelling at him to get out of their rooms and stop touching their stuff. Or he'll just break something. Which only makes the situation worse for him until it escalates to him being yelled at to go to his room by either Vander or Silco. And while how they approach the sending him to the bedroom probably could be done better he actually needs it to stop the Cycle he's created and have some time to calm down before he can be talked to rationally (and also give his parents time to calm down and calm any aggrieved siblings). They've learnt that if they try and challenge him while he's still worked up he'll just go to blaming his siblings which probably is just going to start an argument between him and said siblings and continue the Cycle.

Jinx is the full-blown throw-herself-against-the-floor meltdown when she gets fully worked up. As she gets older it gets very performative where she will turn it off as soon as she gets her way but when she was younger it's because she genuinely gets that worked up. Because she is the youngest and her parents more and more busy nearly every day it does actually work a lot of the time because it's easier to just give her what she wants then try and get her to calm down. They can do it when it's something Really Important but a lot of times they can't be bothered.

I've mentioned it before but with Jayvik and Amaranthine, she's the kind of kid who holds her breathe when she's throwing a tantrum. And Jayce freaks every time she does it and will do basically anything to get her to start breathing again. While Viktor will acknowledge it by reminding her that she knows that doesn't work for him and then will continue with what he was telling her that she didn't like enough to start the breathe-hold-tantrum and refuse to engage with her more until she talks back. She has never actually passed out on him.

With Naph I think he's a hider. Which works as effectively on both his parents in that they neither Jayce nor Viktor like it when he does it. And because he's a good hider by the time his parents have found him he's calmed down and they've forgotten about whatever it was he was having the tantrum about in the first place.

[sleepyfireball]

I loved Season 3 so much (Violet Bridgerton Edition)

If you haven't guessed (God help you) Violet is my favourite character and I have a lot of thoughts about her storyline in Part 2.

First her storyline with John and Francesca. Something I really enjoy about Violet is that she is not perfect, and she actively learns from her past mistakes and tries to do better. That being said, she does still make mistakes. While she is significantly better this season at not pushing her children too hard in the marriage mart, she still does push Francesca a bit. I think she recognises that Francesca loves John, but she is not sure if she is in love with John. She is hesitant to speak to the Queen on their behalf, mostly because Agatha point blank tells her that the Queen will sniff out her doubts, even though Violet said her doubts do not matter in the face of Francesca's happiness. However, I do think Violet benefited from hearing that falling in love can look different, it does not always have to sudden and instantaneous and loud. Violet has a habit of expecting her children to experience love the way she did and it is important for her to recognise that her loved experience is not the only experience of true love. Also, Francesca forgave Violet, which I think was really important as well. An important part of growing up is realising that your parents are people too and as such, make mistakes. The scene of the two of them playing the piano together will live happily in my heart forever, as will John's acknowledgement of Violet's role in her children's lives.

I also found it quietly funny that Violet told Francesca she stumbled over her words the first time she met Edmund, then, not 5 minutes later, was stumbling over her words when speaking to Marcus. Not to mention that in part one, Violet had stumbled through her disastrous introduction to Marcus in the first place.

I love love loved seeing Violet and Marcus's story play out. Daniel Francis and Ruth Gemmell have amazing chemistry together and honestly were amazing in their scenes together. The way that he was constantly seeking her out at social events and he came to call on her was so sweet; even if Violet was so horny watching him eat that little dessert. I think Marcus should definitely be the one to tend her garden and I loved seeing them dance together. A romantic dance for the first time in 12 years for Violet. I enjoyed that she looked nervous but also excited to get to dance again. I also enjoyed that they put their relationship on the backburner to sort out their own issues. That's a really healthy outlook and I love that their communication is strong enough that they were comfortably able to talk about it. If I had my way, before season 4 we would get a prequel series about Young Violet and Edmund, paralleled with Violet and Marcus's proper courtship.

Marcus's scenes with Agatha were also top tier. Daniel Francis and Adjoa Andoh blew it out of the water, particularly in the scene where they both want to go after Violet when she's upset at the Mondrich ball. I feel like that scene hit really hard after watching QC:ABS and seeing just how miserable Agatha was in her arranged marriage. Also, seeing Agatha desperately trying to throw widows who are not Violet at her brother in the hopes that he would get distracted was hilarious, but I did appreciate that he did not waver in his feelings for Violet once. That is exactly what Violet deserves, not some wishy washy man who can't commit, like we were worried he would be, due to the rake comments from Part 1. I really appreciated that Marcus went and apologised, to resolve the matter almost as soon as he found out why Agatha was so angry at him. (her holding a grudge against a 10 year old is mildly hilarious, even if it leads to some pretty bad consequences) and that Agatha was willing to accept his apology and looked most pleased seeing him and Violet together after they had made up.

Now, Violet and Agatha's scenes. Oh my god, Ruth Gemmell and Adjoa Andoh give a master-class in acting because the two scenes they share, in Ep7 and Ep8 respectively are truly some of my favourite from across the whole show and spin off. This friendship between Violet and Agatha means so much and it is clear that neither of them want to jeopardise that friendship. The scene is Ep7 where Violet assures Agatha that their friendship is non-transactional is so important because all her life, Agatha has been told that in order to receive love, she has to provide something in return. Violet tells her, in no uncertain terms, that they will remain friends even after there are no more matches to make. For me as someone who struggled to make true friends for the longest time, seeing this relationship onscreen made me cry. And the scene in Ep8 where they finally actually talk about the discoveries made in QC:ABS is amazing as well. The cinematography in particular for this scene, I adored. The moment Agatha acknowledges that she loved Violet's dad, the camera hides away, behind the couch. When looking at Agatha, the camera is hidden away behind Violet's head. It feels like we are barely supposed to see that scene, because the two ladies are barely supposed to be talking about it. The filmography made the scene feel voyeuristic in a way, like the audience was not supposed to see it. This isn't even to mention the insane acting. I genuinely feel like I am just watching a conversation occur naturally between two people, not a scripted scene that is being acted out. The fact that they finally acknowledged everything from QC:ABS is also monumentsl as it means that Violet and Agatha are willing to move past that and continue their friendship, no matter what. Having Agatha say she will choose Violet over Marcus should he handle things wrong felt so wonderful as well, especially when you have the juxtaposition with Penelope and Eloise and Colin. And panning over to the hat at the end of that scene was wonderful. Not to mention the whole rest of that scene focused on Agatha reassuring Violet about Francesca and John as she had been doing all season.

If I could change anything about this I would add in two scenes. 1. Agatha consoling Violet after she runs out of the Mondrich Ball and 2. Getting Violet and Colin talking about the Whistledown reveal, because we were robbed of Ruth Gemmell's wonderful acting for that scene. I also want to know what was in that letter. I also would have liked to see Violet helping out a little more for Colin and Penelope, but I understand why she brought in Kate and Anthony to help him out.i would have loved more bonding scenes between Penelope and Violet and also Penelope and Agatha, but I was just glad we got the small crumbs of those relationships that we did. Three things I loved, when The Queen told everyone who was not a Bridgerton to leave, Agatha stayed right there and the Queen did not dare question her. And Anthony being overprotective over Violet and Kate telling him to chill. I do wanna see his reaction if we get Violet and Marcus seriously courting through. And the rest of her kids reactions to cluing onto Marcus was basically good for her, which I was very happy about and felt really healthy for their family dynamic.

I could talk about these three actors and these plot lines until the sun burns up, but that'll do for now

[yell0wsalt]

Fic: Cross that Line

For @meljaymicrofics Day 14: Cross That Line by Tinashe

Relationship: Jayce Talis/Mel Medarda, background Caitlyn Kiramman/Violet

Rating: G

Summary: To look into her eyes and see all the stars there, Jayce knew he was all in with her. He could never imagine having this feeling with anyone else. 

Bridging fantasy to reality starts one day at a time. One question at a time.

word count: 818

These particular thoughts invading Jayce’s mind were reaching a critical peak. He couldn’t focus on anything else. He had to do something about them. Anything.

Talking them over with Caitlyn only made matters worse as their conversations were often interrupted by delightful babbles of her and Vi’s newborn daughter Cassie.

Jayce had fun playing the uncle role in helping entertain and care for the little one at this stage. Caitlyn was more than willing to pass off the baby for “cuddle times with Uncle Jayce.” Setting Cassie to rest on his chest, his chest fluttered, primed to burst. Holding such a tiny human incredibly soft and smelling of talcum powder was a gift to hold dearly. With one hand supporting Cassie’s bum and the other cradling the back of her head, Jayce found himself swept away just as much as Cassie in his gentle rocks and sways.

Even when the particularly offensive toots yanked him to reality, Jayce didn’t even care to muster to squirm or complain. 

While Caitlyn and Vi were okay to manage that part of their childcare, Jayce allowed himself to consider the part of him to indulge in the thought of: What if? What would it be like to experience the down and dirty of it all? 

While Cassie was being tended to by her parents, Jayce buried his face in his hands, tugging at the thick brown shaggy hair falling over his face. 

Maybe it was time. 

He knew exactly what he wanted to do and how. Even though it would be a risk, there was an inherent risk in everything. This was something he was more than willing to take a chance on. Self-containing such sentiments stretched his chest, threatening it all to burst at the seams. 

It was one thing to talk it out with Caitlyn and Vi, however, the best person and only person that mattered in this conversation was traveling abroad for a work conference.

Mel would be back in a couple of days, though. It was perfect timing for Jayce to get matters in line.

Starting off with question number one: should it be store-bought or artisanal?

It was an obvious answer that the latter would be the best. Browsing through the local shops confirmed such suspicions. The cuts and styles were nice and all but she deserved better than what was out on the market. Something that was from the heart. Something that screamed ‘Mel.’ In any case, at least Jayce had an idea of what was popular and typical design choices. 

With his raw materials assembled, Jayce got to work. He didn’t have much time and he wanted it to be perfect for her. Even born from the fires of the forge, with his years of experience, Jayce still took his time playing with and tweaking different designs, sizes, and cuts. 

Every single element had to be perfect for her. 

Jayce let the depth of his feelings for Mel flow through his fingers in molding his craft. When words got lost on him or weren’t enough, he could turn to this. A gift so specific to capture the feeling of being with someone you saw as the love of your life. Jayce didn’t want to miss this opportunity. He would dive in with everything he had. 

One of the late nights working on his project, Jayce carefully inspected his latest iteration from all angles. Wearing a broad toothy smile, Jayce rushed out of the forgery to assemble the proper package.

It was ready.

****

“Mel!” Jayce called to his girlfriend as she offboarded the airship at Piltover’s HexGate. When she turned to find him, Jayce rushed her in a bracing hug. “Welcome back, love. Glad you made it back okay.”

Feeling Mel relax under his touch, Jayce held onto her words. The first ones he was able to hear in a little over a week. Far too long.

“Jayce… I’m back home,” murmured into his chest.

While returning to their penthouse from the airship boarding dock, the couple’s conversation drifted to catching up on Mel’s business travel. Tiring but fulfilling and all that which it entailed. Jayce couldn’t help but be proud of her and all she’s molded herself into becoming. 

Assisting in carrying her luggage from their car to their home, Jayce found the weight of her suitcase paled in comparison to the weight of the tiny box tucked away in his front pocket. 

Soon. 

He would ask her very soon. 

To look into her eyes and see all the stars there, Jayce knew he was all in with her. he could never imagine having this feeling with anyone else. 

His fantasies and dreams over what they could be did not have to stay that way. The bridge to reality was built one question at a time. This one to kick start it all.

Hand in hand he was ready to cross that line 

With her.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

TWST Cast Food Order Series - Coffee Shop

Idk it seems like fun and I want to do their subway orders eventually so if you have a req drop it. Also, gonna update my tags Eventually, but this will be the first post that refers to Jack T., Che'nya, Najma, Neige, Falena, Rollo as 'twst side characters'

-----------------------------------------------

Heartslaybul

Riddle Typically, Riddle has a lot of rigidity regarding food and drink, and what he will or won't allow himself to have. However, as he starts to work through it all he eventually gets to the point where he feels comfortable ordering a small London Fog (Earl Grey Latte basically, with vanilla syrup) and a cake pop if he's feeling indulgent, though usually he just asks Trey for them. Even farther into the future, he'll indulge in getting himself a small white hot chocolate with 2 pumps of strawberry syrup because then it's basically drinking chocolate-covered strawberries....it just takes him a while to get there. (He always spells his name out when the barista asks, he learned after getting Ridelle on his cup)

Trey Whenever he makes candied violets, he also has violet syrup. He tends to carry a small vial on him when he goes out because if he's going to pay for tea, he's going to make sure it turns out perfectly. He typically gets a medium iced lemon herbal tea and he adds his syrup to it for just the right touch of sweetness. (Always gives a name like. Batman or some shit, especially when his siblings are around)

Cater Coffee connoisseur. You might think he's a basic bitch, but to me a basic bitch still means he's getting some sort of sweetener in his drinks and he is Not. Cater cannot STAND drinking a lot of drinks that go viral because they're so damn sweet. That all being said. Yeah, he's getting a large iced latte with skim milk. He won't have normal milk because of the fat content, but the other milk alternatives tend to have a sweetness to them naturally. He could get an iced black coffee or cappuccino, but he likes the ratio of a latte better. Iced black coffee is reserved for exam week LMAO it keeps him awake in more ways than one. Those spicy drinks that circulated at Starbucks? He definitely tried one. Didn't finish it. (Has had his name spelled as Carter. So. Many. Times.)

Deuce He likely won't have gone to a coffeeshop until he's at NRC so he's a little overwhelmed by the menu and what to order. I think he would go for a small frozen hot chocolate because it's familiar enough that he thinks it sounds good, but it's still something new and he doesn't know how to make it himself yet. Once he starts going more regularly though, I think he would really like REALLY sweet frappes. Like large cookie frappuccinos whether it be chocolate crumble or sugar cookie it does not matter lskjdfhlksdjf (has had his name spelled as Doose)

Ace Having a regular latte does not satisfy his sweet tooth, though he'll have one here and there. Ace likes trying lots of different drinks, but the one he always comes back to is a large iced white mocha, no whipped cream. (In relation to my MC, the no whipped cream thing was a change he made because he knows she likes eating the ice and he drinks slower than she does, so by the time she finishes the ice in her drink, he gets to pretend like he didn't time finishing his drink just in time to let her have the ice 'like a fucking weirdo, but okay' but the whipped cream always leaves a weird fatty residue on the ice that she hate). Ace is also a sucker for peppermint hot chocolate when it's in season. (Straight up had his name written as 'ass' on the cup which is the ONLY reason he doesn't tease Deuce about his spelling)

Savannaclaw (just assume pup/cubcups are implied LMAO)

Leona Ugh this pretentious bitch /lh. Flat white is too boring, lattes are the basic bitch drink, this has too much 'coffee flavour', this needs more milk YEAH I'M SURE IT DOES KITTY. Anyways, when he's alone, he gets himself a small cup of just steamed milk, with like a half pump of (sweet) vanilla syrup. When he's around other people he gets a Cafe Cubano, which is an espresso shot prepared with brown sugar. It's a small enough portion that's sweet enough he can get over not having milk in it, but he's not Jazzed about it LMAO he just doesn't want to get the milk in front of other people my poor baby man. He sometimes gets a Cortado, but he can never remember what to call it. (Refuses to give a name, just goes by the name of the order, or he's just called by his title)

Ruggie My man works so hard. He and coffee are best friends. He and Silver bond over coffee sometimes. It's beautiful slkdjfhlksdjfsdf In the mornings, he tends to make himself a large double-double coffee, which for non-Canadians means 2 milk, 2 sugar in drip coffee. In the afternoon, around 2pm, he makes himself a small iced dulce de leche latte. When he goes to coffeeshops, he goes because he wants something he can't make/imitate at home as easily....which would be a vanilla coconut cashew smoothie. (Vanilla ice cream, coconut milk, cashew butter and protein powder). He would have a fresh fruit smoothie, but he can't enjoy fresh fruit without feeling like he should share it with his siblings because it's a hot commodity, it's a luxury for them. Frozen fruit is cheaper and easy to make into smoothies, so he makes them a lot at home. Of course, if he's at a coffeeshop, he's going to get a donut too. (Has never paid attention to the spelling of his name, doesn't care)

Jack He cannot handle caffeine my poor baby, he would be so jittery and anxious. He is a fresh fruit smoothie guy, and also he cannot stand matcha (Vil made him try it at one point). He likes blueberry-acai banana smoothie with greens, yogurt, and protein powder. Otherwise, Jack will just get a small chamomile tea with honey as sweetener. (His name is always right and his tail wags when the barista throws on a happy face next to his name.)

Octavinelle

Azul Azul tends to drink Milky Oolong tea, because of the health benefits. Does he like the flavour. Debateable, I don't know I haven't had this drink I can't tell you if I think he does or not. Probably. I read somewhere it kinda tastes nutty or like Danish cookies. When he goes to an actual shop though, he tends to get an Americano. (Assule, Asul, Azhoole, he tends to spell his name out for people now too)

Jade Not a coffee or sweets guy. We know that he's fascinated by the varie-tea (badum tss and I immediately get hit in the head with a chancla) that tea has to offer. I think Jade has had caffeine once and like. You know how humans. kind of have exposure to caffeine as kids even in small amounts, like in chocolate, or in stuff like certain sodas. Mers don't get that. They don't get that exposure at all. Jade on caffeine was a terrifying experience for any and everyone involved and he is not allowed to have more, nor will he allow himself to have any because dear great seven he swears he saw God and he doesn't even know who that is. That being said, Jade likes Jasmine herbal tea, while he prefers it piping hot and just a touch sweet, he isn't opposed to having it iced. His favourite blend is good either way, as it has rose hips, hibiscus and orange peel. He also enjoys Chaga mushroom tea. (His name is generally spelled correctly)

Floyd Like I said. Mers don't get that exposure to caffeine that other species in TWST do get. However Floyd, to me, has ADHD. And what does my ADHD do to me sometimes when I drink caffeine? I pass the fuck out, orrrr I'm finally able to focus because caffeine is a stimulant and makes everything better!! (This is why I would down an extra large iced vanilla latte right before exams LMAO) Floyd doesn't care so much about the flavour than he does it's effects, so he generally just asks what drink has the most caffeine and gets that, usually a large nitro cold brew, and he tells the barista to surprise him with a flavour just NOT salted caramel flavour. (He gives a random name every time)

Scarabia

Kalim ADHD 2.0 but addiction is just a general worry for his family, so Jamil makes sure he only makes herbal teas, and smoothies. That being said, left unattended Kalim would order whatever tea a barista recommends. Otherwise, he gets a mango lassi. He also often enjoys any flavour of lemonade, carbonated or otherwise.

Jamil Aw man. This guy. Needs so much caffeine, and as much as he enjoys tea, Kalim only serves herbal tea, but Jamil doesn't mind too much how sweet he makes it. When he's in the mood for it, Jamil will make his own chai blend. However, when he wants caffeine, he'll consume it in a way that would make Rollo think he's a demon. He will order a nitro cold brew, and a 2 bags of green tea on the side. He will then microwave the cold brew to make it hot and steep the green tea in it. Using Starbucks as a baseline, a large nitro cold brew has 345 mg of caffeine. One bag of green tea has anywhere between 30-50 mg of caffeine. A 'safe' amount of caffeine to consume in a day is considered 400 mg.

Pomefiore

Vil We already know that Vil's favourite food is homemade smoothies- So when he goes out of his way to go to a coffeeshop, he's not going to pay for a smoothie, unless it's right after a run with Jack. Vil's order fluctuates with the weather and time of day. If he's getting something in the early morning (5:30am-7am) and it's cool outside, he's getting a flat white with soy milk. If it's warm out, he'll get an iced Macchiato with soy milk and cinnamon. If it's mid-late morning (8am-11am) and it's cool out he gets a medium americano, though if he's feeling indulgent he gets a honey vanilla tea latte with skim milk. If it's warm out, he gets a medium vanilla oat milk cold brew or a strawberry acai lemonade if he's again, feeling indulgent. He won't consider drinking anything until about 2pm, which, if he needs something caffeinated he goes for an iced matcha latte with oat milk regardless of the weather. In the evening, (4pm-6pm) he avoids caffeine and will either drink a small decaf iced lavender latte with oat milk or decaf green tea. Once in a while, Vil will try ordering something new. If he ends up liking it, that time of day is associated with that drink, so that would be the time of day he orders it again. the Vil in my head is telling me just how hard he has to mask when a coffeeshop doesn't have the thing he wants to order and how some of these orders. he doesnt even like. but he knows that they won't be out of the ingredients because it's Just the coffee and a milk alternative. So They Can't say they Can't Make it so he doesn't have to worry about needing to mask.his day is ruined if it's a day he wants to be indulgent and they dont have the ingredients but he has to try and hide like he is crying on the inside and he feels stupid about it because its just a drink I cant tell if it's OCD or Autism but there's a little something funky going on/lh

Rook He is well aware of the effects caffeine has on him. They aren't bad per ce, but he doesn't particularly appreciate the gastrointestinal consequences. He also doesn't really find the appeal in super sweet drinks. Most of the time, Rook just wants iced lemon water, though on nights he struggles to wind down enough to go to bed, he'll brew himself or order rooibos tea with a splash of milk. The smell is the most comforting thing about it, he remembers his sister used to make it for him.

Epel He says he's not a snob, yes he is, if you don't have apple cider, you suck, if you do have apple cider but it's a 'bad brand' you still suck, just a little less. That being said, a lot of coffee shops don't have apple flavoured drinks, and he likes making apple cider at home anyways. When Epel is out and about, he likes to order a large iced decaf maple latte. He always whispers the decaf part like it's a bad thing he can't actually have caffeine or else he turns into the squirrel from Hoodwinked. (Get's called Apple a lot, also Elle once or twice)

Ignihyde

Idia Do you seriously think this guy goes to a coffeeshop? No, it's 3am, he's on UberEats/CarriageBites, he's put in an order for a bunch of energy drinks and some of those iced coffee bottles, he throws an energy drink and probably a salted caramel cold brew in one of those SUS slushy cups, makes it slushy and downs it in less than two minutes. Get on his level. Noob. I say this as someone who drinks a near liter of an iced vanilla 'americano' in less than two minutes.

Ortho Is worried about his brother. He also loves the smell of cinnamon coffee cake.

Diasomnia

Malleus He's so lost in a coffee shop. He will spend a moment to read over the menu, realizes he needs to research the different kinds of coffee drinks before he feels comfortable ordering one, only for him to decide on having a coffee frappe. The caffeine has no effect on him so he drinks it purely for the taste.

Lilia Who do you think taught Idia to be a fucking caffeine gremlin. This motherfucker isn't even affected by the caffeine he just likes the taste of his abominable combinations and accidentally got Idia hooked. The only step Lilia doesn't do is the slush, he prefers his energy drink-coffee combo to be room temperature. Freak \lh

Silver He has Lilia as his father. Jamil and Ruggie as his peers. And Cater Diamond as a fellow coffee fanatic. This boy tries so hard to use caffeine to keep him awake, his coffee order scares the barista. (This was based an actual order I got from some guys FRIENDS because this poor dude was studying for engineering finals week, we were told not to worry about the price because they were willing to pay, and we had to give them like. Four warnings about the caffeine content. It ended up being 12 shots of espresso over ice in a 24 oz cup) He wants the biggest cup they can give him. He wants it filled with just straight espresso shots. Let me just iterate - one ounce of liquid espresso typically has about 63mg of caffeine. 12 espresso shots, using 63 mg caffeine as a baseline is 756 mg of caffeine. I don't know where that college student is now but god bless. I hope his friends took away the coffee at some point.

Sebek He doesn't like black coffee, I do think he likes particular types of coffee. Like the coffee that doesn't taste like coffee. However, his go-to order is still just a piping hot cup of hot chocolate. Also pleeeease give him the steamed milk art/latte art, he loves it more than he'll admit.

Others

Jack T. Jack has a running joke on Ace where he only drinks black coffee in front of him, each time claiming some sort of delicious or exotic flavour just for Ace to fall for it every time when he offers it and it's just black coffee...but every once in a while, it's magically cloaked Vietnamese iced coffee, but Jack won't tell Ace the name just to piss him off because Ace really likes it but he can't place what's different about it from normal coffee with sugar and milk.

Che'nya As chaotic as our favourite purple cat is, I think Che'nya is partial to a rich, thick French vanilla. I think he likes the smell more than he likes drinking it, but yeah, it's just a yummmmmmmmy drink. He gives his full name out and just. :3 at the barista.

Falena He has a latte macchiato, much like Leona, he likes his coffee to be milk heavy lmao

Najma She doesn't usually drink anything for caffeine, when she does though, it's usually her brother's chai LMAO, but she'll make it an iced chai latte. Unfortunately, I HC her as iron deficient so this isn't always. The Best Choice. When she wants a coffee flavour, she gets it in the form of ice cream or in a mocha.

Neige Doesn't drink caffeine because it's an addictive substance. Yes Vil has mocked him in his bedroom at some hour in the morning hate listening to an interview with him in it. Fucking. Golden Child. (lh) When Neige goes to a coffeeshop he usually just goes to pick up a pastry and tip the barista. He sometimes has chamomile tea before bed but with enough sugar to rot your teeth.

Rollo Every once in a while he treats himself to a decaf con panna and madeleines on the side.

----------------------------------------------------- Rapid Fire OC Orders Vizzie - Iced white mocha, no whipped cream, or iced vanilla americano/latte

Aspen - matcha latte with lavender foam and honey

Oisin - Bicerin with cinnamon on top

Cory - Romano (weirdo) /lh ----------------------------------------------------- Taglist: *DM or send an ask if you'd like to be added @fluffle-writes

[seeker-of-stories19]

One I thing I have personally really appreciated about Bridgerton is seeing Violet interacting with her children in different ways and being portrayed differently in each season. I don’t mean for this to be a super negative post about her just that I think people tend to ignore the real disparities in how parents treat different children and usually when it is brought up it’s minimized to ‘having a favorite.’

But there’s so much depth in Bridgertons portrayal of Violets relationships with her individual children and how much they are affected deeply by society, trauma, her personal feelings etc. Parents are genuinely influenced by these things and it is unfortunately projected differently onto different kids, whether that is because of outside forces or clashing personalities or something else entirely it’s often glossed over or handled poorly in media.

Coming from a loving family doesn’t necessarily say much about what someone went through growing up and often love is only a small part of the equation. Despite Violet loving all her children they have had very different lives and experiences related to her parenting and you can clearly see that with each one of them.

First you have Daphne who is generally taken with the whole idea of being a debutante and the idea of romance which is very relatable to Violets character and their relationship (from what I remember) paints a generally idyllic picture of the family.

Then you have Anthony who is at the other end of the spectrum entirely, he has gone through extreme trauma and been neglected, abandoned, and parentified to an intense degree. We see him struggle with poor self esteem, anxiety, and imposter syndrome as he tries to step up during the worst time of his life. He has to bear the weight of Violets grief as well as his own and raise his siblings and handle the estate meaning that he has had an incredibly different parental relationship with her.

Benedict and Colin both seem to receive some light chastisement and a bit of meddling from Violet about their choices and finding a match but are generally not bothered by it and both seem to be relatively content in their relationships with her which again is very different to what some of the siblings experience.

Eloise also struggles with her relationship with Violet, albeit in a very different way to Anthony and for very different reasons, but it’s coming from a place of not wanting to disappoint Violet while also not wanting to be someone she’s not. I think Violet generally handles this as well as she’s able within the confines of the time period and despite hurting Eloise she seems to be coming from a place of trying to help her find her place within a framework that already exists but still in a way that’s authentic.

Francesca also seems to have a primarily positive relationship with Violet but there is some pain surrounding their differences and how Violet and her siblings fail to understand her or meet her where she is at, leaving her as the outlier of her family and struggling with loneliness because of it.

I don’t think I’ve seen enough with Gregory and Hyacinth to see get a very good idea of those relationships but they seem happy and content, they also haven’t really gone through the trauma of losing a parent the way their siblings have which was a very pivotal moment for the rest of the family. Whereas Violet and Anthony are the only parents they ever really know.

The point of all of this is just that I think this is so important to the storylines and really lends the Bridgerton family a lot of depth that makes them much more realistic together and individually compared to how families usually work. The siblings are different people who all have very different relationships with their mother and are treated in observably different ways, for better or for worse, and from my personal experience this is much more realistic than the average dynamics portrayed on TV.