#idk what i'll do when i eventually leave this place. i sure do love a good limitless ability to experiment with drinks

[orcelito]

& you may ask. "Fanny, you're just drinking beans in tea?"

To which I will say. "Ya lol"

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[starboye]

pairing: steve rogers x male reader

request: Captain America falls in love with his fellow big bubble butt Twunk male reader avenger. Steve asked him on a date which leads to Steve and male reader losing their virginity on the first date; which eventually has them both in a long term married life full of happiness, love, and hot steamy sex with the super soldier with his big hung 🍆 and a twunk with the big 🍑.

warnings: smut, both of you are virgins, cursing, and fluff

a/n: idk how I feel about this one, it feels a lil iffy

you had just gotten back from your most recent mission where you had to stop some robbers from getting away with some stolen bank money with steve and lets just say it wasn't the easiest thing ever as it seemed like steve was occupied thinking on something else "hey what was that out there you seemed preoccupied" you say playfully nudging him "oh it was nothing just thinking" he stammers trying to avoid eye contact with you "well leave the thinking for off the field" you chuckle "yeah" he smiles.

just before you get out the door steve calls out "hey y/n would you wanna go out to dinner sometimes" he asks nervously "are you asking me on a date rogers" you ask with a grin "yeah i guess i a-" he says before getting cut off by the feeling of you kissing his cheek "well than its a date" you say smiling before walking away as steve stands there as his heart is pounding so hard it feels like it gonna burst out his chest.

you meet steve at a fancy restaurant and you guys find a table "I just wanna say you look amazing" he says "well thank you I'd say you look rather dashing yourself" you chuckle "thanks" steve says, you order your food and it soon comes out "wow this looks amazing, how did you even manage to book a place like this I heard they always have a full house" you inquire "compliments to tony he pulled a couple of strings" he says "I'll be sure to say thanks".

after finishing dinner you both walk down the street talking about the latest drama in the avengers compound "hey do you wanna go back to my place" you ask him "y- yeah I would love to" steve stammers at the sudden question before you grab steves hand and playfully run to your apartment, when you get to your apartment you show a nervous steve around.

"sorry it's a little messy I haven't been here in a while" you laugh throwing away done trash that was on your counter and kicking some clothes out the way "oh dont worry my place doesn't look any better" he says looking for some place to sit "oh yeah you can sit on the couch" you say moving some junk off the couch before sitting down on it with steve.

"I really enjoyed tonight" steve says with the biggest smile on his face "I did too" you say admiring steve, after a few seconds of silence steve leans in and kisses you before jumping back just as quickly "I'm sorry I didn't mean too do that" he tries to quickly apologize "don't be sorry I liked it" you say moving onto steves lap and kissing him deeper than before, his hands move to you back holding it firmly.

"should we" you trail off "I'm okay with it if you are" steve says with a bigger smile than before him now about to sleep with his first and best of all his crush "I am" you say taking your shirt off leaving your torso exposed for steve, he feels up and down your body watching how your nipples perk up with each light touch from his digits "you okay there big boy" you chuckle "y-yeah just new to this whole thing" steve says still amazed by your body.

"don't worry it's my first time too" you reassure "really" steve says, on the outside he seemed calm but on the inside he was freaking out at the feeling knowing he was gonna be your first and you were gonna be his first "you wanna take this off" you ask tugging at the hem of his shirt, he quickly obliges and takes off his shirt his broad body now on full display for you.

you run your fingers along his chest, tracing random shapes and admiring his figure "you wanna maybe do it" steve nervously asks "id be happy to" you say getting up and putting on a mini show for steve, stripping off your pants and underwear in an erotic way, you watch as steve follows every one of your movements with his eyes his cock now begging to be let out of its confines.

"how about we get these off of you" you say pulling steves pants off and watching his dick jump out and stand up straight resembling the american flag "I didn't expect you to have a dick like this" you say stunned by the mans large dick "well the super soldier serum enhanced some other things to" steve chuckles "well either way it still looks delicious" you say licking his tip slowly watching him shudder under your touch.

"how are you so good at that" steve asks trying to avoid your seductive gaze "I don't know maybe I just learned it" you say licking his slit, "I bet your bussy feels better" steve says choking down a moan "what" you say holding back a laugh "what" he says innocently "did you just say bussy" you ask almost laughing "what I heard it off porn" he says shrugging his shoulders "yeah you're in desperate need of some hole it seems" you say straddling his bare lap.

steves breath hitches in his throat at the bare feeling "can I kiss you" steve asks trying to control his breathing "you don't have to ask me steve" you say pulling him into a kiss "I wanna feel you" steve begs "okay okay" you chuckle before smearing some saliva on his dick "okay three, two, one" you cut down before sinking onto his dick slowly with a moan.

steves hands quickly find their way to your hips and tightly hold them in place, you sit there for a couple seconds and get used to his large size before looking at him with a "are you okay" look and he replies with a nod, you lift up and sink back down in a rhythm with steve groaning at each move, "I feel like I'm gonna cum already" he says with tightly shut eyes before throwing his head back.

"me too" you moan, your moan brings steves head back up to watch you moan all over him, a dream he's jerked off to multiple times in one day "never did I think id have this chance with you" steve scoffs "well here I am now" you kiss steve before moaning into his mouth as you sink down again "fuck" you huff before cumming all over steves stomach him watching in full awe.

"nghhh" he moans next as he cums in you, his teeth tightened together and eyes shut as his hips erratically thrust upwards trying to ride out his high, after a few more seconds steve finishes and lets out a long breathy huff "fuck that was good" you say dropping your head on his shoulder "sorry for cumming so fast" steve sweetly apologizes "you're good you felt to good" you say "well thank you" he smiles.

it may have only been the first date but steve already wanted to marry you he thought of this so hard he didn't even realize he was staring at you "earth to steve, you okay" you ask with a chuckle "yeah just thinking" he reassures with a smile "you sure do think a lot" you say laying your head back down on his chest "you have no idea" Steve says.

[sheastri]

Can I Call You Rose? ft. ln4

Pairing: lando norris x fem!black reader

Genre: Social Media AU + Story

Summary: In which the reader grew up in a household where she was never able to express herself properly due to her father. Lando heals her inner child and helps her experience all the things she wasn't able to when she was younger.

Warning(s): None.

A/N: No specific facecast, just the gorgeous black girls of pinterest!!

Also please send requests, whether they're movie based, book based, song based, or even original. Spill your brains and I'll bring the ideas to life the best I can.

Dedicated to all the young girls around the world growing up with immigrant parents who they knew loved them but didn't know how to show it. You will find someone who allows you to express yourself and heals you inside out.

୨୧–------------------------------------------୨୧

Flashback To Y/n's Childhood

13 years ago

Y/n had just turned 10 years old and was excited to celebrate her birthday. Her mother had suggested they all go out and grab dinner at a restaurant of her choice as her birthday treat. They were at home getting ready and just about to leave when her father had said something.

He had insulted her mother and she knew immediately that it would prompt a whole argument so she grabbed the car keys. She made sure to tell her sister, who immediately followed behind her, before she went outside to the car to wait for their parents.

When everyone had gotten in the car it was dead silent. Nobody spoke a word until her father attempted to break the silence with a joke, not an apology, a joke.

Her mother had laughed and went back to speaking to her father like nothing had happened. Y/n and her sister had looked at each other before going back to their phones. Out of nowhere her father begin to go on a rant, well yapping spree, about how this generation was always on their phones and started to talk about how his life growing up in Jamaica was.

Both her and her sister laughed as their mother commented on his very animated story and the atmosphere felt lighter, as though everyone could breathe again. They laughed and conversed until they pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, Olive Garden.

It wasn't giving birthday dinner but Y/n's been craving it for weeks now, the only reason they couldn't go was because of her dad. He didn't like their food and made sure to make it known. He had eaten something before they left so she could hopefully enjoy just eating her food.

They ordered and while they were waiting her dad decided that he needed to complain more. He started with a joke about how she kind of left him to starve and how next time she should be more considerate. Her mother laughed and her sister spoke up about how she didn't like Olive Garden that much either.

Y/n eventually excused herself to the bathroom and went into a stall deciding to just cry. Safe to say her 10th birthday was ruined.

Alexa play "Can I Call You Rose".

୨୧–------------------------------------------୨୧

Current Time

liked by landonorris, whosimani, maxverstappen, and 246,789 others

Tagged: whosimani

y/nsdiary ya'll the view is next level 🤭

view all 13,729 comments

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username Can I call you Rose? 'Cause you're sweet like a flower in bloom…

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, y/nsdiary, and 567,293 others

Tagged: oscarpistri

landonorris the view is just spectacular

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username Can I call you Rose? 'Cause you're fragrance takes over the room...

୨୧–------------------------------------------୨୧

I Wanna Plant You in my Heart, Oh, So Love Can Grow

Y/n and Imani had bought tickets to attend the Miani Grand Prix since they happened to be in town. Y/n wasn't so much as interested in formula one as Imani was so she was pretty much just tagging along for the ride. It was Thursday and they had come in for what was known as "a pit-lane walk" because Imani had wanted an oppurtunity to talk to some of her favorite drivers. Most notable were Oscar Piastri and Lewis Hamilton. Y/n, personally was a Lando girl. She wasn't a hardcore fan but she tuned in every once in a while and used social media to keep up with everything going on within the formula one community. They were walking around when someone bumped right into y/n knocking the cold matcha out of her hand. It had gotten over her and the opposing force. She looked up, feathers a bit ruffled and was jumpscared, mostly because she expected some rando, with the face of Lando Norris. They were both frozen for a bit before he helped her up. After he had helped her though he stared at her for a long time and she just averted her gaze before accidentally getting caught in his eyes. She let out a soft laugh at the situation before apologizing. Lando's eyes momentarily widened before he quickly began to stutter out apologies. Y/n just laughed at his nervousness before he offered to help her find some clean clothes. Y/n looked at Imani who had given her a thumbs up before giving her that look with her eyebrows raised which made Y/n let out a soft sigh. She took Lando up on the offer and they walked off. Many people looked up at them seeing them both giddy and drenched in Matcha. The upcoming weekend Lando had won and joked with Y/n about having her come and visit again along with a cup of matcha in hand.

Can I Call You Rose? 'Cause Your Thorns Won't Let Blood In Too Soon

It had been almost 2 months since the incident and since then Lando and Y/n had kept in contact. At the moment Lando was trying to convince Y/n to go to the beach and have dinner with him but as more than friends. Y/n had turned the idea down due to being scared of the prospect of a romatic relationship. Eventually due to a bit of convincing from Imani and communicating her feelings to Lando directly she had given him a chance. She had dressed up in a cute pink two piece in which she wore her swimsuit under. She had 2 gold necklaces stacked on top of eachother, one shorter than the other along with some lightly colored bangals. Her makeup was pretty light and she had on strawberry sceneted perfume. She heared the doorbell ring and rushed down with her purse before taking a deep breath and fixing up her hair. She opened the door and was met with a giant boquet of pink flowers. Lando angled the flowers in his arms so that he could make himself visable but also be able to take in her look. If the weight of the flowers hadn't kept him grounded he would've thought he had died, had ascended to the heavens, and had seen an angel. He took her in with all his five senses. His eyes had been blessed, his ears had the pleasure of being able to listen to her soft voice, his hands had the ability to caress and hold hers, his nose was able to take in the scent of strawberry that surrounded her, and his mouth was able to taste wonderful cooking. He never wanted to depart from her. She invited him in and had him place the flowers on the dining table until she came home later to figure out where to place them around her house. He held out his hand for her and led her to his car.

"What a gentleman you are tonight Mr. Norris." Y/n teased with a soft smile on her face.

"Only for you Mrs. Norris." Lando teased back earning him a soft slap from Y/n.

They ate at the restaurant first before going to the Beach soon after. It was late evening but the sun still had yet to set. Y/n wore a swimsuit but didn't plan on going in the water. She had brought a book. It was more out of habit since she was stuck watching her siblings play instead of being able to enjoy the trip. Lando had gotten into his swimsuit and wasted no time jumping in the water before coming out a bit after. He gave her a look with his eyebrow raised and she immediately got up, book long forgotten, and began to run. He chased her for a while, letting her think she was getting away before sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her torso.

"Lando, no. Don't do this to me." Y/n had said dramatically while dying of laughter, already out of breath from all the running.

"Sorry love, it had to be done." Lando says laughing as he now moves one his arms under her legs and runs into the ocean.

After they were both soaked and tired but for Lando the most important thing was that Y/n had fun.

୨୧–------------------------------------------୨୧

Current Time

liked by landonorris, whosimani, mclaren, and 524,936 others

Tagged: landonorris

y/nsdiary meet mr. totally in love with me

landonorris and proudly so

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whosimani AND DOES!!

username Can I call you Rose? 'Cause your roots have the power to consume...

liked by y/nsdiary, mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 736,927 others

Tagged: y/nsdiary

landonorris Meet Mrs. Norris. The woman of my hours, my days, my years, and hopefully my forever. There is never a day spent in her arms in which I lack love. I thank my God for you every time I think of you and I hope that you know that you are the pinnicale of my existence.

y/nsdiary nah because you have me over here trying not to sob, you couldn't have waited till I wasn't out?

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username I wanna plant you in my heart, oh, so loving grow

୨୧–------------------------------------------୨୧

And that's all folks, follow for more amazing stories!! Remember to leave suggestions in my box!

Please like and reblog, not necessary but would help out!!

[madameevil]

Gotta love the polarizing reviews of "the story moved me to tears with intense choices that mattered" and "I couldn't be a racist asshole so the writing was boring." (heavy sarcasm)

I just need to stop looking at polarizing reviews for my own mental health at this point. It's exhausting. I just wanna play the game and enjoy it without people on the Internet insulting everyone or calling them "shills" if they do enjoy it. I think I'll just vanish until it releases and enjoy all the fan art on Tumblr instead of venturing outside.

(personal rant below cut)

1. Haven't played the game so I don't know if there will be conflicts between party members but also the world is actively ending.

In Origins it was just Ferelden and a slow moving horde that would EVENTUALLY threaten the whole world.

Dragon Age 2 was an isolated conflict that would grow to have impacts on Andrastian Thedas.

Inquisition has an opponent moving really only in Southern Thedas who was constantly getting out maneuvered.

I think all of those allow some allies to be a bit cross with each other. But not really sure I would pick allies who constantly bicker when the threat is what it's advertised to be in Veilguard. If Inquisition took place in the future timeline where everything had already gone to shit, the last thing I would need are characters having a spat in the kitchen pantry. Like that's great guys but we just lost the whole Eastern continent because you're arguing over petty things that have NO MEANING IF WE DON'T DO SOMETHING.

2. I have to wonder if part of it is also weeding out people Bioware doesn't want in their communities anymore. Maybe they don't want to give you the option to be pro-slavery because IDK it's super fucked up?? And maybe if you're the kind of person who consistently made that choice in DA2 they don't want you in the community anymore. ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ There are less horrific choices that can be presented to the player that are difficult to make for reasons that aren't grounded in "to be a racist, sexist, asshat and to be a human capable of understanding ." If you're mad you can't be the asshat way in this game then, maybe it is best you just leave the series for good.

3. NOT EVERY FANTASY PIECE OF MEDIA HAS TO BE GAME OF THRONES LEVEL DARK. GEEZE PEOPLE. I've recently replayed origin for the umpteenth time and 2 and Inquisition. They're not "dark and serious" games. Even my friend playing through them for the first time is like "People call this dark and serious?" I don't want every media to be dark and gritty. I don't want all fantasy to be Game of Thrones. It's not the end all be all.

Anyway that's all. Just had to rant into the void a bit.

[i0veless]

CELEBRITY CRUSHES :: PABLO GAVI

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ an interview can lead to a lot ]  𖥻 PAIRING ー [ pablo gavi x fem! actress! reader ]  𖥻 GENRE ー [ fluff, slight angst? ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 1.1k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ idk if there are any - let me know if I missed any ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ this fic was inspired by @dachher and this short fic of theirs, and before you ask, I do have permission to use it as inspiration, and I hope you enjoy reading this ]

➛ previous | taglist | masterlist | next

The internet is a strange place. It's funny how a harmless clip can spiral into an imaginary romance in the eyes of the general public, even though the two in question had never met. Y/N L/N had never met Pablo Gavi. Sure, she had heard of him - though nothing beyond the highlights of football aired on sky sports late at night. But she knew of him nonetheless, as his good looks led the Euphoria actress to stalk his instagram for a couple hours on a boring Friday night.

So it was safe to say the actress was surprised when she woke up to her name trending next to Gavi's on Twitter. With thousands of people tweeting and retweeting about their supposed 'relationship', but one thing that repeatedly appeared was a clip from what seemed to be an interview. Clicking on the short video with tired eyes, only to be met with the attractive Spaniard's face plastered across her screen as he answered the question that seemed to cause the social-media uproar.

INTERVIEW CLIP :: GAVI REVILES HIS CELBE CRUSH TO BE NONE OTHER THAN Y/N L/N | A POSSIBLE BEGINNING FOR A NEW BUDDING ROMANCE AND A FUTURE IT COUPLE IN THE MAKING

Y/N was now wide awake as her mouth hung open in shock, having to rewatch times the clip several to confirm its authenticity to make sure it wasn't her brain playing tricks on her barely conscious brain. Safe to say, after ten minutes of digging, she could confidently say the video was real. And that was probably why everyone in her contacts was blowing up her phone. And why her manager had sent the star 87 texts and 123 calls.

Gulping at many missed calls, the young actress deliberated even calling Tyler back. But she knew better than to leave Tyler Markson on read as her manager's rath would be harsher if she ignored him. So she sucked it up and pressed the call button. As the phone rang multiple before eventually connecting, "hello", Y/N said, almost whispering out of fear. Don't get her wrong, she loved Tyler and considered him one of her best friends, but he was intimidating when angry.

"Look, it's not as bad as it looks. I don't know that guy; I don't have a crush on him. Hell, I don't even find him attractive." Telling lies had become second nature to the actress, so it took little to no effort for her to convince Tyler that there was nothing between them. And that was true. There was no relationship between them besides some slight mutual attraction, but no one needed to know it was mutual.

"Don't worry. It's all good. I just got off the phone with the Barca pr team, and they want you to come in a do a couple of interviews and promo for them, so be ready in an hour. I'll come to pick you up for the flight, and we'll have the shoot's tomorrow." With that, the conversation was over, and the call was cut. And with that, Y/N thought long and hard about what she would do as she packed her bags for the flight ahead of her to Barcelona, Spain.

If Gavi wasn't panicking before, he sure was now. News that a particular actress was coming to be a new celeb face in the ranks of Barca alums, the Spanish man knew precisely who they were talking about. And he was panicking, and it was clear as day to everyone that saw him.

"Amigo, calm down," Perdi said, rubbing his forehead as he watched his best friend pace around the changing room. But Pablo didn't listen and continued walking back and forth like a madman until Lewandowski placed a hand on his shoulder. "Sit down, Gavi"; with that, the young Barca star was seated. "Look, you will be fine." Frenkie De Jong chimed in.

"But what if I'm not? She's going to think I'm weird."

"Gavi, go talk to her after. Maybe even ask for her number."

"What are you talking about? I can't just go to her and say hi can I have your number? She's a huge actress."

"And? you are a huge footballer."

But before the duo could argue any further, Xavi said it was time to go and greet the guest. As they filed out of the room, he caught a look from his manager as if to say, 'don't do anything stupid, kid.' as the Barcelona players all walked to the field, they were met with the sight of the actress and her team stood on the grass getting ready to shoot the promos. Gavi was speechless - she looked even more beautiful in person.

But a cough from Lewandowski stopped him from embarrassing himself further, as he completely ignored the girl as she waited for him to introduce himself. "I'm Gavi," he finally muttered awkwardly, making all his teammates want to strangle him or facepalm into the pitch. "I know who you are, Pablo Gavi" with that being said, the Spanish boy turned red as his Spanish national team shirt.

But his response was cut short by the camera crew who wanted to start filming. As they began to shoot a couple of videos, the players were pleasantly surprised that Y/N was immensely talented. Not that they thought she wasn't, but they assumed her talents only extended to acting, and the fact that she knew three languages (English, Spanish and French) and was decent at football impressed them more. And god, did Gavi look like an idiot as he watched her speak Spanish.

He couldn't help it. Something about how his mother tongue sounded on her made him lose it. And when it came time to give the actress her personalised Barcelona jersey, he wondered what she would look like with his number and name on her back. By the end of filming, all the players could sigh relief as they could finally escape the love-drunk Gavi and run to safety.

And to be honest, Pablo did the same, with his tail in between his legs, dying from embarrassment because of how he acted in front of his crush. And as he wallowed in the sorrow of running his seemingly only chance with the girl of his dreams. He felt a rustle of something in his pocket. Dipping his hand in to see what it was, he was met with a small piece of paper. Pulling it out, he was met with a surprising note from the one and only Y/N L/N.

'Let's forget the clip and start from a blank slate. Call me xxx-xxx-xxx - Y/N <3

He was smiling like an idiot for the rest of the week, and everyone knew why.

[lightlycareless]

I was reading your scorned ex husband Naoya and I was wondering how much worse he’d be if him and Y/N had to share custody of a child(How the Zen’ins let Y/N get a divorce AND get joint custody idk. Maybe it was Naoya’s last act of kindness to his wife). Hehehe, I feel like it’d be so messy

Heya anon!!

Couldn't get this idea out of my mind because I needed the angst :> I gotta say, your child here is the true victim. And yes, it would be messy. You'd end up hating Naoya for it—

But I won't say much, I'll let you read it instead :)

warnings: naoya is your ex-husband. you have a daugther named naomi. naoya's a jerk. naomi is a victim of his idiotness. toxic relationships. physical violence.

also, this is the work anon is referring to (can be read independently.)

Happy reading!!

Sharing custody of your beloved daughter Naomi with Naoya is, as expected, the most surprising, frustrating, and difficult (if not borderline impossible) things to do.

And no, it’s not because you must arrange your schedule to fit this new lifestyle—nothing that ever related to Naomi could be that.

Rather, because of the things Naoya was doing to spite you. He might deny it as much as he wanted, but what else could you call these… questionable behaviors?

First, through setting up thousands of excuses as to why the place Naomi was to visit with him was not good enough.

Sure, you could argue that as her father, he was entitled to… voice his opinion and choose an option that would also be of his liking—it’s their time together, after all, which didn’t happen every day; restricted to the weekends, per previous agreement.

But his suggestions were just so stupid, if not inappropriate for a child!

What made him think that spending the weekend over at this office was any good?

Or going to all these fancy restaurants that limit Naomi when it comes to her behavior?! She’s a kid, for god’s sake—the weekends are supposed to be a break from the boring school routine she’s subjected to on the weekdays!

“The amusement park is too noisy.”

“There’s too many germs at the water park.”

“She if wants to see a movie, she can do it at the house.”

Just to state a few.

It was highly infuriating, to say the least, to see how dismissively he behaved towards his own daughter. Angering enough, that the next time he said one of those stupid comments of his, you couldn’t help but lash out, wondering—

“Do you even love Naomi?”

Naoya remains quiet at your accusation, before opting to scoff in response, rolling his eyes, and leaving.

You believed that it wouldn’t get any worse than this. That it couldn’t.

But oh, how wrong you were.

By the next time Naomi returns from spending the weekend with her father, she runs to your arms as soon as she steps through the door, teary eyed and highly distraught, confiding you with words which prove Naoya can indeed be worse.

No, not worse.

Straight up atrocious.

“Naomi, pumpkin, what’s wrong??” you fret, taking the poor child in a tight embrace as she begins to cry.

“I don’t want to go with papa anymore…” is what she confesses, and at the notion of Naoya doing something stupid, yet again, your chest tightens with anger.

«Just what did he do this time?!» Your mind would frantically wonder, going through a long list of possible causes, hating each one more and more as you went past them.

And yet, no amount of preparation would be comparable to what Naomi eventually confessed.

“Papa made me call a… a woman mama.” She begins. “I—I didn’t want to, but he—he told me I couldn’t go back if I—if I didn’t do it…!”

That’s it.

Naoya has done it.

Officially.

You could respect his intolerance when it comes to doing something genuinely fun, or his lack of tact when being a father—hell, even you were accepting of it, outside of what the law said. Because deep inside you, you still believed he deserved to be in Naomi’s life.

And now that this new advancement rose to the occasion, regardless of how much it hurt you, you were also willing to accept the fact he was moving on with someone else.

But this…

This was beyond your limits.

Because if Naoya had any issues. it would be kept between him and you.

Naomi is nothing but an innocent girl that deserves to have parents that love her, and have nothing but her happiness in mind, doing all what it takes to ensure such a thing!

Not a father that immaturely tried to spite the mother of his child for bitter reasons.

And certainly not a mother that allowed this to go on for far too long.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You’d shriek the moment you got a look at him in his office, Naoya freshly out of a meeting, and rightfully taken aback by your sudden, unannounced visit—any other time, you would’ve cared enough to not have caused a scene, but when it came to Naomi, you didn’t care if this was all his employees and family would talk about for the upcoming weeks.

You just bothered to know what was inside his stupid little fucking mind to have demanded such absurdity from your daughter and disrespected you in the process!

“What are you doing here, Y/N—"

“I can respect you seeing other people, really, I do.” You cut through his words; this isn’t his moment to talk, after all. “In fact, I’m glad you have! Great, you’re moving on!

But I will not tolerate disrespect towards my daughter, or my role as her mother! Did you know Naomi came back home crying because you forced her to call a woman she doesn’t even know her mom? What were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking of what was right.” He quickly interjects, a prominent frown on his face. “Do you think it’s acceptable to have this—this arrangement??”

“No, it’s not, because I should’ve gotten full custody of her!” you cry back. “I can’t believe you managed to convince the judge you were actually a good father to her! But let’s be real, that was your family’s money talking, wasn’t it?”

“Y/N—I won’t allow you to—!”

“Oh, but I have to?!” you gasp. “I have to take the way you treat Naomi weekend after weekend? Dismissing her like she was just a random kid, and not your daughter? Which you wanted to have if I need to remind you! And after all this, you still have the nerve to tell me I’m being disrespectful?!”

“Well, now that we’re talking about reminders, you’d do good in remembering you’re the one that filed for divorce! The whole reason this is happening at all is because of you!”

“Fine! I’ll play the villain if you want to—But I won’t stomach you hurting Naomi!” you cry. “She is your daughter, Naoya! At least have a bit of decorum when it comes to her!”

“Ha! I don’t recall having a daughter so insolent against her own fa—”

Naoya doesn’t even finish his words before your hand lands a slap across his face, a movement so harsh that effectively turns his head to the side, with a sound equally resounding in both his mind and office, that left him both speechless and startled as everyone else quickly exited the room, understanding it was best to leave in their own terms while they still could.

While you, on the other hand, frantically tried to wrap your head around the fact that not only was he comfortable insulting you, but your innocent daughter as well.

The one person that did not deserve any of the horrible things he was doing.

The one act you could never forgive.

“Do not, ever, talk about Naomi like that!” you hiss. “Naomi has been nothing but accepting of your irresponsible parenting! Far more than she should be! In fact, she’s—she’s always excited to wait for the moment she’ll get to see you again, since you don’t bother reaching out to her any other way!

And you still dare talk about her like that?! What is wrong with you, Naoya?! Why are you doing all of this?! You literally don’t have anything in your odds to be behaving this way!

You have a good job, no—you have your whole life set, and you’re moving on with someone else too! So, why must you keep hurting me and your daughter? Are you not satisfied with what you have? With your new life without the wife you hated oh so much?!

Or do we—do we have to be miserable just for you to be happy?”

But even then, Naoya doesn’t respond; instead, he just keeps silent, as if deep in his thoughts while placing his hand over his cheek, carefully feeling the marks of your attack underneath his fingers before eventually glancing back at you.

And you don’t know what it was—perhaps the silence following the turmoil allowed the depths of your emotions to finally settle, or maybe it was the disbelief of reaching your breaking point and hurting Naoya, an act you greatly came to regret later on, pushed you to it— but you’d end up revealing far more than what you initially wanted.

Offering a glimpse of your true feelings, a question that erupted the moment divorce crossed your mind, and filed the papers, continuing to torment you to this day, more so when doing what you did…

“Where—where did we go wrong?”

“You did this.” Naoya accuses—there was fury in his eyes, an expected sentiment after all that transpired. And yet, underneath that fire, something inside you was still able to discern that far from pained by the act… he was sorrowful both got there in the first place. “All of this is your fault—”

“What was I supposed to do, Naoya? Stay behind in a household where I was nothing but miserable, where your family wouldn’t bother respect me, or our daughter, and with you—you allowing all of it? Like we were deserving of it?” you breathe. “Did you…. all this time—Hate me?”

“No, I don’t hate you.” Naoya disputed. “I—I don’t—I never did.”

“Do you hate Naomi, then?” you fret. “How—how could you do that, Naoya? She’s your daughter, for fucks sake! A child! What could she have done to you to earn your hatred?! You—you even wanted her!”

“It’s not—It’s not against her—it never was. I couldn’t do anything to hurt—”

“Then what is it?! What is it that has you so—so angry at us!”

“Y/N—I—I don’t know—”

“Just tell me!” you cry. “Tell me!! Why is it always so hard for you to tell the truth?!”

“I never wanted to hurt Naomi! I could never!”

“Don’t lie to me—not after all the horrible things you’ve done to her! Do you really need us to be miserable just to be happy?! You have everything in the world! Why can’t you just let us go—"

“Because I never wanted you to leave!” He suddenly confesses, a shocking truth that hits you across the face, perhaps much sharper than the slape you gave him, leaving you silent all air leaves your lungs. “I never wanted that—that stupid divorce! Or for you to act like I wasn’t even important to you!”

“Naoya—what does that even—”

“You know damn well what I mean!” he hisses, burning tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “I—I could never hurt Naomi, I wouldn’t dream of it—but it was the only way to get you to look at me. The only way to see you again—or even—or even react to me!”

“Wha—what?”

“Ever since you… ever since we got divorced, is like I don’t exist to you anymore.” Naoya continues, lowering his gaze to the floor, the weight of his actions, as well as your hardened gaze, too much for him to take. “I call you, text you, even try looking for you at your house, but you’re nowhere to be found. Or even… interested in seeing me again.”

“And why would I want to do that?” you murmur, frowning. “With the way you treated me—the way you’re treating our daughter, why would you even think I want to do that?”

“Can you say with certainty, that you don’t feel anything for me anymore, then?” Your ex-husband adds. “That in your heart, there’s nothing—nothing left for me?”

“That’s… that’s not what matters.” You pause. “Not anymore.”

“So that’s it? That’s what you’re going with? You’re just going to abandon this marriage, like it didn’t mean anything?” Naoya takes a step closer to you, and while you move away from him, you don’t do the same at the second attempt, less when he placed his hand over your cheek, gently touching you the same way he’d done many, many years ago—when the two were, perhaps, still in love.

“It meant the world to me, Naoya.” You say, voice trembling, doing your best to not let the tears in your eyes slide down your cheeks—to no avail, caught by his gentle thumb. “There was nothing more than I wanted than to make this marriage work. But… it wasn’t meant to be, no matter how much I tried, or how many children we had—”

“We can still do it—we can still go back and make it better—right this time."

But deep inside you, you knew that wouldn’t be possible.

Because what you hoped Naomi would represent, the one last chance to save this marriage… simply became its doom, a tool for him to use against it as well—a declaration that truly, not even a blessing, like was meant to be for you and him, could do the now impossible task.

After all, if it didn’t happen during the marriage… what security did you have it would happen after? More so with the things he selfishly did to grab your attention?

It was unjust for Naomi. The one person you’ve long accepted to shift your whole existence for, and would willingly continue to do so, even if it meant letting go of what once made you happy.

Or wished that one day would.

Your work was carved out for you, you just… needed to stop being the delusional mother that wished for a happy, healthy marriage with the man you considered the love of your life…

And walk away from the father that is still unwilling to let go. the father from not letting go.

“I hope you enjoyed your weekend with Naomi.” You begin, moving away from his hand and getting a glimpse of his shocked, if not confused, eyes, which gave you the impression he knew what you were to say—

Or perhaps, the reluctance to accept this was to happen.

“Because it’ll be the last.”

Ex-husband was too merciful of a title to give him.

With at that happened, and all you needed to do…

No one was more fitting.

Oof, that was angsty :s well, it's safe to say Y/N and Naoya are not happening again.

I honestly always liked the idea that if Y/N and Naoya break up/divorce, they wouldn't date again. Sure, they'd try, specially with Naoya's family, but they would never move on. They can't—their fates were destined to be with one another, and if not possible, then that's it—no other person can come into their life.

Gee, how... dramatic of me lol. But, well, I like tragic stories :)

Anyways, I hope it was to your liking! Thank you so much for this angsty ask heheh. Take care, and hope to see you soon!! ❤️❤️

[reyreadersblog]

OKAY OKAY so like the idea was like an AveryJameson fic where they're watching stars, right? And Jamie points to the brightest star in the sky or smt (i think it's the north star), and he's like "that's our star" and Avery takes his hands and moves it to where the sun should rise and says somehting along the lines of, :That's our star bc i will ily u night or day or smt idk im not poetic w mushy mushy love things BC THE SUN IS ALSO A STAR YK YK???

Okay okay pookie, i'll try my best💟

Hope you'll like it.

Pairings: Avery Kylie Grambs x Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.

warnings: mention of death, grief.

A/n: i hope this is what you wanted, it's a bit corny but..

Taglist: @reminiscentreader @jkriordanverse @sophiesonlinediary @lxvebelle @f4iry-bell @s-rosie @his-littlefox @cocomowgy @mariamluv

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's our star.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••••••••••••~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Avery's pov:

"Heiress!!" Jameson's voice is like a nice breeze to my ear.

I am laying on the roof, watching stars.

"Hey, heiress why are you here?" Jameson looked down at me. He seemed worried, for me.

"Am i here? Am i not?" This was Jameson Hawthorne tasting his own medicine.

"Coping personalities now, aren't we heiress?" He asked me, well it was more of a rithorical question.

"Mabye we are, mabye we aren't" he didn't say anything but layed next to me, both of us on the roof top, staring at the skye full with stars.

He knew something was wrong, i didn't admit it, i didn't wanted to, but he knew. Just one word Jameson..just one single word...

"Tahiti" he said clamly, like it was just some meaningless word, like it wouldn't make me tell him everything i kept in my heart.

"Yesterday me and Libby went to see a house..where my mother and i lived, i found my old things, photos of my childhood..and i guess i'm a bit nostalgic, that's all"

"Tahiti" he said again.

"Wha-"

"You aren't telling the whole story heiress, are you? What else did you find?"

I sighed and took the drawing out of my coat's pocket.

Stars, little yellow colored stars.

"This is what i found, and it's very dear to me. When i was little I used to be so caught up with astronomy that i'd take my blanket with me and tried to watch stars the whole night. I liked to draw them as well and my mother kept them, like this one. She used to come up to on the roof hug and tell me stories.."

I inhealed heavily and continued. While Jameson's hand made it to mine and held it so hard, like holding my hand would decide his destiny.

"She'd tell me, eventually everyone's time would come to leave this place and when it did for her, i could lay on the rooftop and look at stars, she'd tell me one of them would be her....that's why i'm here in the first place...but they are just..stupid stars.."

Jameson was quiet for a minute or less, but then he moved his other hand to tug my hear behind my ear and rested it on my face.

"You're more beautiful on moonlight then anything i've ever seen"

He was cruel for this, he cruel for making me feel this way.

I took his hand and kissed it.

"Come here" he had said, but that's all he needed to say for me to move closer to him and lay on his chest.

He started running his hand throught my hair very gently.

His heart was beating unlikley, i knew his heart beat..every sound of it, slow, loud, fast..but now it was different.

There was few moments left until sunrise.

"Do you think she's watching at us?" I asked.

"I'm sure of heiress, but do you think she likes me?" I chuckled. Jameson Hawthorne always knew ways to make me laugh.

"I'm sure she thinks you're my soulmate. Mabye a bit too much of a risk-taker, but overall you're great."

He smiled. If you'd make me choose between watching Jameson's smile or watching stars every night, i'd chose his smile. Whenever he smiled my breathing stopped. Just a curve of his lips could make me forget my every worry.

He held his hand out and pointed at one star, the brightest one. The north star.

"That's our star"he said.

One..two..three, i counted to myself.

Then i took his hand and pointed it where sun would rise in few seconds.

"No, Jameson, that's our star.. because i'll love you day and night"

We stayed quiet for a few moments, i even though what i had said was too much, but he spoke.

"You never fail to make me think of how lucky i am to have a girl like you fall in love with me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.2}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) – (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

A/N: Gonna cross-post this to AO3 eventually once I have more of an idea of how the plots gonna go cause you all have convinced me to full-send it and make it a longform thing. just adding it to the list of wip.... a sincere apology to my tcm fics.... anyways! i love my little depressed magic-cancer nerd and im glad im not the only one. here's more of him :) [it wont all be angst, but i gotta set the scene and the stakes, yanno...?] ALSO 'a found flame' is just the working title, idk what the official one is gonna be but i'll let yall know when i figure that out

Word Count: 3.1k

Stepping outside grants you an opportunity to taste the last flavors of the fading winter, only feeling the quick spikes of a chill every few minutes, and even then, it’s only thanks to the setting sun. You still wear a purple velvet shawl, as per the request – well, demand – of Gale. He insisted many moons ago that you shouldn’t ever risk getting sick when you can take measures to avoid such a fate, and you’d decided it was much simpler to go along with it than to argue your safety. That plan was cemented when he purchased you a finely tailored purple shawl, the edges of the hood and cloak lined with lynx fur, dyed a dark pink to complement the thick purple velvet that made up the majority of the shawl. A gift that nothing short of surprised you, even had you fooled into believing you’d been dreaming when he presented it to you. Why he was so particularly fearful of the cold, you weren’t sure, but you deeply appreciated the gift, and even if you did enjoy winter’s nip, the shawl was both gorgeous and comfortable, and you’d be insane to leave it behind.

Gale was also particularly sensitive to cold weather, from what you could tell, which likely had a role in his passionate bias against the chilliness of post-snow air. Frankly, you were fine with the occasional runny nose in exchange for a chance to wander down a snow-dusted forest trail, and you didn’t mind a shiver here and there while you caught free-falling flakes that Waterdeep was ever so rarely granted. 

The garden, however, was much like Gale – hardly a fan of the cold. Gale did not have a green thumb, but he still shared similarities with the plants you tended. Those plants that, currently, were dead and buried. While you’d managed to convince him to try his hand at herbalism and gardening, he had more of Bhaal’s touch with the sprouts than the ‘magic’ touch he so often joked about. It was amusing, and a little pitiful; the exasperated sigh and the troubled frown that followed your breaking of the news, that his poorly packed and overwatered plants had passed. He was dramatic, and managed to find the humor in the situation, though vowed to let you handle anything to do with seedlings and crops from that point onwards.

It was unfortunate, as you appreciated his entertaining company (even if it came mostly in the form of griping, displeased that he had to get so up close and personal with dirt and worms) around the garden beds, but it allowed for moments like these. Truth be told, you had no intention of gardening. You would have to wait another twelve dawns until any useful plants would be back in season, so planting anything this late in winter would be a waste of both time and resources. 

Instead, you aimed to explore a small forest trail that you’d just recently discovered, not far from the tower you stayed at. To say you lived there felt like too strong, too certain, of a term. It was the only place you slept, and nearly all of your time was spent there, but you knew it wasn’t home. It was Gale’s home, and you were a mere guest. A sixteen-month-and-counting guest, but a guest nonetheless. You worked, your apprenticeship laboursome and sometimes really quite demanding, and Gale repaid your loyalty and assistance by giving you a place to stay. You’d just never planned to stay so long. 

In all honesty, you expected it to be a very temporary arrangement. You suspected Gale felt the same way. But circumstances changed, and so did minds, and you didn’t see yourself leaving anytime soon. It helped that you got along quite well with your boss-slash-roommate, despite the differences in personality and age. You were comfortable with the way things were, and Gale had just recently begun to sprout ideas of passing his own spell-casting knowledge on to you, with today’s lesson being a prime example. When you weren’t helping out around his home, or running errands for him, or tending to the garden, you were most usually subjected to reading long passages from books that were once very far above your understanding. 

If Gale was a master of anything, it was surely knowledge. You’d found it odd, at first. Spending all of his days wasting away in his tower, just reading, rotting into a hermit, you’d assumed. But you’d soon gained an appreciation for his boundless mind, and felt almost honored that he’d decided you worthy of learning from him. Being a wizard’s apprentice had never been in the plans, not even as a fleeting hypothetical, and yet you found yourself in that exact scenario – and enjoying it nonetheless! 

Glancing down at the small woven basket hanging from your arm, you frowned, lost in thought. Gale taught you a lot, and he still had plenty left to teach, but by no means did that translate over to you really knowing the man you shared a house with. He taught from books and scrolls, and on a few spare good days from his own vast experience. Even with all of the lectures he gave, you found that any details about him that weren’t related to magic, or your lessons, were all quite lacking. What you did know about his personal life was almost purely from observation. 

Well, a few times when Tara had made a passing comment about some personal detail and surely was later scolded for it, but those were few and far between. If anyone were to blame for your curiosity, it was most certainly the man himself. He loved preaching the importance of curiosity, exploration (despite rarely leaving the confines of his study), and seeking knowledge, and you’d be a rather poor apprentice to disregard such lessons. Or, arguably worse, cherry pick when you applied those lessons to real world scenarios. 

Most recently, your nose for curiosity had picked up on the notably pungent scent of Gale’s behavior. It was unusual, slightly withdrawn, perhaps a little panicked if you truly squinted between the lines. Gale was predictable, for the most part – it was one of his traits that had earned him your trust in the first place. Though as of recent, he’d been rather strange. And not the typical Gale kind of strange – an unsettling, uncharacteristic strange. One that you knew better than to ask questions about, but one that certainly sprouted confusion. 

You neared the edge of the forest, giving the pale trees a smile as if to promise your peace. Pausing just before the tree line, you peered into the woods, interested as to what you might discover. You proceeded, following a very faint trail into the woods. You had a pretty solid confidence in your navigational skills – otherwise you most definitely would’ve gotten completely trapped in the maze of a city that was Waterdeep every time you ran any sort of errand – so you weren’t particularly concerned with getting lost. 

Allowing your thoughts to return to Gale, you reminded yourself that you weren’t really lying to him. You definitely weren’t going to the garden, but you still planned on harvesting plants. You’d known him for almost a year and a half, and you knew the gist of what he’d been through, what with his mentorship from Mystra herself – which was so cool, and he was way too casual about it – and his strange appetite thanks to the Netherese orb that had become one with him. All that aside, however, you didn’t know many details about his past. For as chatty and sarcastic as he was, you couldn’t shake the feeling he had a good number of secrets he withheld from you, and big ones at that. 

Of course, Gale was entitled to his privacy, and you didn’t want to intrude or push his boundaries, but it was impossible to ignore the signs of unease. His constantly drifted mind, his long breaks between lessons, his increasingly frequent requests. Or the way that he’d direct you to read a passage from some folktale or other, only to remain silent for several moments after you finish, gazing longingly past his balcony. He’d been consuming more artifacts than usual recently, and gained a sudden eagerness to push real world practice into your schedules. Not that you minded the inflow of new information, but it didn’t seem to come from a place of excitement. Instead, you figured anxiety; judging based off of the common rapid bouncing of his leg, the messy-and-messier spread of his books and trinkets – especially when compared to how well-kept the place always was whenever you’d started working under him – or his new tendency to forget what he had and hadn’t asked of you, or which lessons he’d already covered, or hell, where he had last placed his staff. 

Well, what better way to get someone to open up and relax than with a hand-picked bouquet and some herbal tea? 

Even if he didn’t spill his guts to you, he certainly needed a pick-me-up. Sure, you already did a lot for him, but he did a lot for you, too. Maybe even more than he realized. He deserved a treat. 

–   –   –

“Though it may be bold of me to say, I estimate they’ll be a fine caster someday.”

“Bold indeed, Mr. Dekarios. Awfully bold. They quite nearly began trembling at the idea of a mere fire bolt!” The small beast chirped back, seated firmly atop his desk, pawing at a small fuzzy ball that swung from a thin string, easily entertained by the simple contraption. 

“Even I stumbled; all beginners do. Time is all they need. ‘Time heals all wounds’, is that not how the scriptures read?” He asked, sticking his tongue out and running the tip of a long harpy feather over it. 

As he dipped that same tip in a vial half-filled with a thick, clear liquid, Tara quickly outstretched a wing, the end of it not-so-accidentally hitting her companion in the face. The startle nearly caused him to knock over the bottle of magic ink, his torso leaning forward as he just barely managed to steady it with both hands, and he glared at his familiar out of the corner of his eye. She merely stretched out her other wing, feigning obliviousness before eventually looking back at him. “You are still the same fool who summoned me all those years ago. You are a prodigy, Mr. Dekarios! You were half their age then; to compare your ‘stumbles’ to the incompetence of a commoner such as them is exhaustively inconceivable.” 

“Tara, I implore you to exercise patience. They are a fine apprentice, and they certainly have the potential for brilliance. Am I not a competent mentor?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, intending the question to be at least somewhat thought-provoking, but the only reaction he received was Tara turning her head away and murmuring something too quiet for Gale to hear. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he knew her well enough to predict it was something snarky, and he didn’t bother investigating. He dipped the large quill again, unable to recall if he’d already wet the tool, and the liquid dripped off of the tip, shimmering in the glint of the fading sun as it rejoined the rest contained in the bottle. “Why is it that you repudiate all of their attempts to bond with you? Surely you don’t think them ill-mannered?”

“‘Ill-mannered’, he says,” she mocks, her tail flicking in irritation. “It is not their civilities that I have quarrels with. It is the expectations I deplore.”

“Expectations?” Gale repeats, his palm flattening against his desk, pressing out the sides of a contorted scroll, the tip of the feather hovering over the yellowed paper. 

After solving her own deliberation, the tressym turns around, her wings folding against her sides, her tail curling around her paws. “Have you no fear that your confidence is misplaced? Mr. Dekarios, do you not worry that they may fall short in your plans for them? That they are not up to the task you have decided to burden them with?”

Gale’s irritated gaze softens, his hand relaxing, coming to join his other hand in resting on the desk. The clear liquid on the quill drips onto the parchment, becoming a black dot in an instant, the weave-infused iridescent ink soaking seamlessly into the paper. “I fear nobody could ever truly be capable. But my options are limited, and my few select choices are each disheartening in their own cruel ways.”

“Evidently, you have already made up your mind. Why is it that you allow them to remain oblivious? You know better than anyone how dire the circumstances are.” Tara’s paws slide forward, her belly laying flat on the desk, and she plants her head atop of her mitts. 

Gale moves his hand, letting the paper curl up without the weight, to gently scratch Tara’s head, her pitying purr drawing a sigh from his own chest. “I am but a ticking time bomb. Hardly much of a man these days,” he chuckles dryly, looking around the dust-riddled mess that he still called a study. It would be nothing short of anarchy if it weren’t for his apprentice, and he’s seen it in far worse shape, but it doesn’t quite shake the quiet guilt that rocks in his stomach at just how far he’s fallen. Gale is usually quick to excuse his carelessness as an incurable consequence of his age, but he’s well-aware that his energy is not merely being lost alongside his youth. 

The artifacts he consumes have only ever satiated a part of the orb’s appetite. Never quite satisfied – a commonly reoccurring trait of those Gale finds himself engaging with – the sortilege feeds off of him as well. The incantations he recites and the thaumaturgy he practices only grows stronger – more powerful than Gale could have ever predicted or wished for – while his body withers away as though his very anatomy is actively being shredded, and relentlessly so, to make room for spells that he now dreads casting. 

It doesn’t help that his learned reliance was only ripped away from him when he truly needed assistance. When the man who once considered himself the smartest in all of Faerun was clueless about his own condition, the only person who could possibly have the answers disappeared. 

Now, Gale was left to clean up the pieces. He understands this is his own doing – that he was, and still is, a fool. Once blinded by greed, a greed that led him to being blinded by love, a love that led him to being blinded by desperation, a desperation that led to him being trapped by fear. A fear that now has settled, more or less. Present as ever, but no longer unfamiliar, no longer a new addition to Gale’s emotions.

His hand returns to the paper, and Tara steadies her sights on the bottom of the quill, watching as it twirls, imprinting promises and bittersweet apologies onto the scroll. Words he couldn’t possibly utter aloud, but words that couldn’t be more genuine. The recipient deserves more than a written explanation and cursive laments, and he’s aware of the injustice he’s manufacturing, but he is a terribly faded man who is cursed by a deficiency in time and yet finds himself with so much left to do. He decides it is better a raven on her doorstep than his ghost, lacking any explanation. 

Each day, he wakes to find his chest a little warmer, his hands a little shakier, his hair a little thinner. And each day feels like his last. He is entirely helpless to the foe that resides inside of him, of all places. Incapable of defending against something that has already breached his castle walls, and even more useless as it has latched under his skin, reducing him to nothing more than a habitat. He hosts an aberration that has grown far, far too large for its enclosure, and who threatens to rupture its cage with every breath that he dares to draw. 

He’s held out for long enough. He’s lived longer than he ever imagined possible, but he knows his limits. The truth stings in places untouched by the Netherese’s reaches; his forced composure starts an ache in his face, but he knows better. With a sharp inhale, Gale rolls up the paper, setting down the large brown feather as he retrieves a thin, fraying string, tightly wrapping the letter up. He even finishes it off with a neat bow, a force of habit, and he sets it aside, leaning back in his chair. 

The moon is just barely visible now, approaching the stars and creeping over the mild coverage of the stone railings on his balcony, and the wizard watches the white giant rise. Some unburied, deep sense of longing reflects in his eyes, where the moon also resides, though she is much smaller and much dimmer. There’s movement on the desk, but Gale’s eyes aren’t yet drawn away from the beauty of the night. Then there’s a weight in his lap, and a purring against his stomach, and he lowers his hand to rest on Tara’s back, gently stroking, enjoying the silent tranquility. 

‘Mystra’s moon’ he used to call it. He’d tell her he could see her in the shadowed curves, but he isn’t sure if he ever really did. Maybe in a dream, long lost to him now. The moon that watched over him tonight was certainly not Mystra’s. It was bright, encasing the room in a beautiful blue, and the gaze it returned was a soft one. Free of judgment, free of stress, free of difficulty. 

“I reckon I’ll be up there soon,” he exhales, feeling his familiar curl up in his lap. “Ruling my own section of sky. Perhaps I’ll even have purpose. I can’t help but wonder what it’s like.”

“Peaceful, I suspect. An eternity of peace, at that. What a prospect.”

“You’ll join me some day?” 

The feline purrs out a quiet chuckle, her tail curling around her body so the tip rests on her nose, bundled perfectly atop his thighs. “Of course. I can only go so long without a self-warming bed.”

Gale smiles, his hand falling still on her back, though his thumb continues to run up and down her fur. “Give them a chance, will you? They can’t do it without guidance.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Tara reassures, her tone much softer now than when she spoke of his apprentice earlier. “Do wait for me up there. I’ll be by your side before long, Mr. Dekarios.” 

“I set out tomorrow night. I’ll inform them of what they need to know.”

[honey-on-your-tongue]

Back in my Arms

You can find part one here

Ps. I'm so sorry about part one 😭😭😭 idk what took over me, but I'm sorry sorry sorry. And this is my apology:

It's been years. You wouldn't be able to tell how many. Ever since Jake left, time has been a blur, a long trail of melancholy that eventually turned into numbness.

Your day starts like so many others: dreaming of Jake. Of the look in his eyes that last time. The way you'd felt as you fell asleep in his arms. The sensation of his skin and the comfort of his voice.

And then you wake up. And just like the morning after that time, Jake's not by your side. He's gone.

As you go about your chores, you busy yourself with thinking of anything but Jake. It's a tough task, but after so many years of practice, it's become a little easier. Still excruciating, but easier.

You grab a berry and drop it in the basket.

You think, Maybe I'll go hunting later...

You take another berry.

With my bow. And take the knife—

Your thoughts quickly turn away as you realize that your knife is actually Jake's. One he gave you...

Or maybe I'll stay home. Help prepare dinner.

That thought doesn't lead you to Jake. So you indulge it.

You're deep in your thoughts, lost in a painless world far away when you hear something rustling in the bushes behind you.

You turn around, ready for whatever creature might be hunting you. Palulukan? Ikran? Sky People? You're prepared.

You expected everything but what you find.

At first, you're not sure you haven't lost your mind. And then you don't care if you have. Nothing else matters.

You're rooted to your spot, the basket slipping from your suddenly numb fingers, berries spilling everywhere.

He looks good. A little older, a pain settled deep in his expression. But his eyes are the same. He's the same man you've loved for all this time.

His breathing is labored, eyes roaming over you as if he can't see you enough.

On wobbly legs you stand, heart racing, terror spreading in your chest at the thought that this might be another of your dreams. Another trick. Another morning when you'll wake up without him.

He breathes your name and you're knocked back into reality. For the first time in years, your soul is actually in your body, living in the moment and not in your thoughts.

You run to Jake and jump into his arms. He hugs you, holding you to him, burying his face in your shoulder. Your legs wrap around his waist and you rest your head on his.

You only realize you're crying when you hear yourself sob. He holds you tighter, squeezing you softly.

“I love you,” he says against your skin. “I love you. I'm so sorry. I love you.”

You shake your head, grabbing his face in your hands as he places you on the floor. “Don't apologize. Don't apologize.” You kiss his lips, almost melting from the feeling. The missing piece of you is back. That crater in your chest finally filled. “You're back,” you state the obvious, your eyes studying his, still unable to believe this is real.

He kisses your forehead softly, gently, his hands holding onto your waist. “I am,” he sighs. “I am. I should've come back much sooner. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, it's okay, Jake,” you tell him gently. “It's alright. I understand why you had to leave. I do—”

“No, I shouldn't have,” he says. “I should've stayed. My place is here. My family is here. My home is here.” He kisses you again, pulling you against him, resting his chin on the top of your head. “You're here. And I should've never left. I don't know why I thought I could manage without you.”

You kiss his shoulder softly, his neck. You take in his scent. Your hands caress his bare torso and suddenly you feel a familiar, aching warmth pool in your womb.

You glance up at Jake, your eyes meeting his amber gaze, and you can tell he feels the heat too.

His hands softly caress your hips and he pulls you closer. He smiles, one of his hands sliding all the way up to your face, and he can't glance away. “My baby...”

You break. All those emotions you've buried deep down inside of you bursting apart. You cry, sobs starting to escape your lips.

Jake just gently wipes your tears away. “My beautiful, gorgeous baby,” he says softly. “I love you.” He kisses your forehead carefully. His lips are warm and familiar, and a sensation of home that you haven't felt in a long time takes over you. Suddenly you're filled with aching desire.

The way you kiss Jake lets him know what you want, and he wants just the same.

He kisses your lips, his hands moving to hold onto your hips. He leads you to the floor, hands gentle, holding you close. He slides a thigh between yours, rubbing against your clit.

You whine softly. You missed this. Not only the pleasure, that's the least. You missed feeling him with you, his skin to yours, his hands over your body.

Jake's mouth falls to your neck, licking and nipping at the skin. “Angel,” he says quietly, his voice deep and husky.

You hum in response. “Jake...”

He bites your shoulder. “Angel, I...I have something I want to do...”

You nod softly, your eyes meeting his as he pauses his attack on your neck and shoulders. “Yeah?”

He swallows hard, his tail flicking from side to side, obviously nervous. “I...I want to be yours. Truly yours.”

Your eyes widen. “Mine?” you echo, voice breathy, mouth going dry.

He nods, grabbing his braid and holding it up to you. “Baby...if you'll have me, I want to be your mate.”

You can't look away from him. You're ecstatic, your heart leaving your chest. And you just can't believe this is happening.

But it's happening. It's happening and Jake's awaiting your answer.

“Are you—Really? I...On Eywa's name...I would love that, Jake,” you stutter, tripping over your words, trembling from excitement.

He breathes a sigh of relief, his eyes lighting up, a smile spreading on his face.

You timidly reach for your braid, holding it to his. Your eyes are on the tendrils as they lock together. You gasp as you feel a shock of love and desire surge through you.

“Goddamn,” Jake grunts, his pupils going wide until only a thin lining of amber is left of his eye.

Carefully, Jake climbs on top of you. His eyes are warm and loving, and there's a soft shine of predatory desire in them.

“Oh, love. I've missed you,” he groans, one of his hands teasing your pussy through your loincloth. “So much...I've needed you all this time.”

You whine softly. “Me too...I've missed your everything.”

He chuckles softly. “You're so fucking adorable, baby. So sweet...so cute. I love it.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I missed your everything too.”

Jake removes your loincloth, his hand gently tracing up your slit. He then pulls his own loincloth off, letting his thick cock rest against your soaked cunt.

You spread your legs some more, breathing heavily. He takes the hint and slides into you slowly, stretching your velvet walls, filling you to the brim.

You have the sudden image of Jake smiling, chasing after a few little kids of your own. Neteyam and Loak and Tuk and Kiri playing with your kids...Your body soft and swollen with his baby...

Your heart flutters, quietly yearning for that future...

“Jake,” you whisper through a small moan. “Jake, I want...” You blush, shy, unsure of whether or not you should tell him.

He kisses your lips softly. “Tell me, baby. You can tell me anything.”

You blush more, closing your eyes and quietly saying, “I want to have your babies...” You grimace at the way it sounds, embarrassed about the mere thought of it.

Jake's heart is in his throat. “You...you do?” he asks you, breathless.

You nod. “Yes.” Your voice is small and quiet, a little squeak.

He kisses your lips hungrily, lovingly. “Love, nothing would make me happier than givin' you my babies...Having you be the mother of my children...” He smiles at you, holding your gaze. “I would give anything for you to mother my babies. Nothing would make me happier.” He gently pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

His thrusts start out slow and soft, fucking you with care. He ensures you enjoy each little movement he makes. Through tsaheylu, he measures your pleasure, softly working your ecstasy into a steady buzz of satisfaction.

You whine softly, legs wrapping around his waist, pushing him deeper. Your cunt flutters around him, making him groan.

You can feel his own pleasure through the bond. It only adds to your own bliss, making your body tremble slightly with a soft warmth.

“Jake,” you whine, eyes rolling back into your head, your sharp canines digging into your soft bottom lip.

Jake can't look away from you. He just keeps his eyes on your face, watching all of your gorgeous expressions, his cock twitching within you. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice thick and clouded with lust. “God-fuckin'-damn.”

Your nails scrape over his shoulders, your heels dig into his lower back. Your body arches, pushing you further against him. He takes the opportunity to softly kiss your neck, licking it and biting it, ensuring he leaves his mark.

You murmur something unintelligible, a moan slicing through your sentence and breaking your words apart. Jake chuckles. “What was that, baby?” he asks softly, placing open-mouthed kisses all over your jaw.

You blush slightly, both from the exertion and from the effect Jake's voice has on you. “I want you t'fill me up,” you beg. “Wanna be so full of you. Please!”

He grunts. You feel the arousal your words send through him and it makes you gasp softly.

“Goddamn,” he moans lowly. He grabs one of your thighs and pushes it over his shoulder, allowing him to fuck deeper into you.

You cry out at the new angle, each thrust sending a coil of unbearable pleasure that tightens in your womb. Your eyes fall shut, eyebrows furrowed as you fight your growing orgasm.

You can feel Jake's not close, know he's got a while longer to go before he comes.

But your ecstasy is growing too much, too fast. You can't keep it down, no matter how much you silently beg, not yet not yet not yet!

Jake laughs when he realizes what you're doing. “Come for me, girl,” he says softly, his voice rolling right into your ear. “Come on my cock, sweetheart. And then I'll give you what you want, hm?”

You whimper quietly. “Jake! Jake!”

He smiles, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I know, love. I know...you're doing so well, girl. Being so good...” He gently nips at the shell of your ear. “Think you can come for me? Just that last little favor, baby...”

You whine, nodding. You allow your body a second to just enjoy the moment, and immediately your bliss crashes over you, sending you into a toe-curling orgasm. You moan and then your mouth falls open in a silent oh! that never gets to leave your lips. You tremble under Jake, soft body shuddering as your pleasure wrecks through you.

And Jake had been prepared to last longer, to fuck you again and again, but the sensation of your orgasm through tsaheylu sends him into a dizzying spiral, and suddenly he finds himself coming, spurting his seed deep inside of you.

You gasp at the sudden sensation of his cum filling you, eyes fluttering shut. “Jake,” you whine softly.

He grunts into your ear, still sending rope after rope of his load deep into your womb. His hips still their rough movements and he gently grinds against you.

“Mmm...” you hum, content. “Thank you.”

He nuzzles into your neck, kissing you there. His breathing is heavy, his entire body trembling and limp, exhausted from the force of his release and the relief of having you back.

He wants to tell you that you don't have to thank him. He wants to tell you he loves you. He wants to tell you that you're everything to him, that the best thing he's done so far is come back for you. That he's complete with you in his arms.

He just can't find the words.

But you don't need him to say it. You already know; you can feel his ardent love for you, and that's more than enough.

-----

A few years later

You're lying on your back by the riverbed, blue skin warm from the shining sun, breathing soft and steady.

You hear them before you see them.

Tuk runs out of the bushes behind you, laughing and gigging, and after her your twins. Giggling and squealing, chasing her, feet still a little clumsy but not enough that you can't send them to play on their own.

And far behind them, Jake. He has an enormous smile on his face, his eyes glowing as he watches the kids play around.

He sees you on the riverbed and his heart skips a beat. He's absolutely certain that it's never going to stop. You will always cause that reaction within him. And he loves it.

He lays down beside you, leaning on his elbow.

“How you holdin' up, love?” he asks, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You hum gently. “Good, actually.”

“I'm glad,” he says. He places a huge hand on your swollen tummy, already big from a few months with another of his children. “And the little one?”

You smile, placing your hand on top of his as he caresses your stomach. “Kicking all morning, fell asleep just now.”

Jake chuckles and kisses your cheek fondly. “Have you gotten any sleep?”

You laugh gently. “Some, yeah.”

He sighs softly. “Baby, you know you should sleep more. It's good for you.”

“I know,” you reply.

My reality is so much better than any dreams my mind can come up with, and I can't bear to close my eyes for too long.

-----

A/N: I apologized already but OMG I AM SO SORRY STILL :((( I hope this part made up for the first one!!!

Also, I was gonna publish the time skip happy ending as a separate epilogue, but since I made you suffer in part one, you absolutely deserved to get the happy ending now.

-----

@jakescumdump @verymuch777 @mrs-sullys-blog @crazy4books1 @ellabellabus07 @neteyamyawne @innercreationflower @butter-cuppp

-----

Blog masterlist

[elle4228]

Look how cute he is; anyway, I've got a Kylo Ren x reader fic I'm working on that I wrote the first chapter for in December and then got super busy. But! I'm back now and chapter 2 should be done by tomorrow. I have massive, very self-indulgent plans for this fic🤞

That being said a little bit about it under the cut.

• Reader is from Earth and chose to join a First Order doctor she helped who had crash landed.

• She decided to leave her life behind mainly to get away from a crazy ex-boyfriend who wouldn't leave her alone, but also because she wanted that experience for herself (who wouldn't??)

• Either way, she ends up working under this doctor for 3 years before the story takes place. Puts reader in her mid-20s or so.

• Cliche, I'm sure you know where this is going, she's tasked with helping Kylo after Rey rocks his shit in TFA.

• Reader pulls no punches; I pull no punches. She's bitchy, she's cunty, she's delusional, she's dramatic, and she's a major man hater because what's the point of fanfiction if it's not self-indulgent?

• Best friends with Hux, she waltzes in unannounced to complain or gossip or talk about Taylor Swift (love of my life😔😔)

• Hux will 100% be a Swifty

• He thinks Reader is annoying at first but they end up 🤞 and he starts talking to her too

• I'm gonna give him a cute little boyfriend that Reader instigates

• On that note Bisexual!Reader

• Slowest slow burn EVER it will be agonizing but don't worry I'll add all the little scenes that everyone eats up in a slow burn, the tension will be unmatched

• Kylo? mean at first, for sure, but so is the reader. He'll warm up to her, start asking questions when she won't shut up instead of telling her to be quiet and do her job

• His puppy dog eyes will be entirely unreasonable but who doesn't love a tortured soul

• Reader will eventually be assigned as his personal medic and will go on missions with him which leads to a lot of chapters based around planet exploration, I have a LOT of ideas for that

• Might get raunchy, might get philosophical, maybe a little personal idk I just went through a breakup and had just been through a different breakup when I planned this fic and both guys were EVIL‼️‼️ beware Reader will be working through it and so will I

• on that note self indulgent Protective!Kylo 🤭

• Reader's mother is wonderful, ride or die bitch

• Reader's father is mostly absent

• Expect lots of cute scenes, character development, and angst because I LOVE angst.

• You thought the planet exploration would be safe? 😬 you would be wrong

• It'll verrrry loosely follow TLJ and will be a spread-out timeframe

• Jealous!Reader who is crazy and out of pocket but only because I am

I'll be posting on AO3, you can read it here if you're interested!

[ge0rg1ewaa]

"They set it up!" - Neymar jr

A/n : this is so confusing and idk if it makes sense. I just wanted to post something, anything. hope u still enjoy it :)

[Third person pov]

The smell of freshly prepared pasta wafted through the corridors of the apartment. The atmosphere was soothing with a blanket on the couch & a favorite movie on the TV. The setting sun and its last rays were the only thing that could be seen through the window.

Today was Y/n's day off and she decided not to bother going out, to be honest, she wasn't in the mood either. Yesterday, she broke up with her boyfriend of a year and a half because she found out he was cheating on her. She didn't do anything all day. In the morning she went out to do the shopping, but since then she has been at her place, reading the unfinished book and finishing watching the last few episodes of the series she has been bingeing on lately.

After pouring herself a portion of the pasta, she headed to the sofa, taking her phone from the charger. The girl had not yet checked her social media, her phone flooded with messages from Instagram, Twitter and Messenger. There was nothing interesting in the internet world. There were no dramas at the moment, or at least Y/n hadn't run into them. One of the messages was from her boyfriend well ex now, Neymar jr, and read 'I'm really sorry. I promise you, I haven't done anything. You know I would never touch anyone else expect you. I love you. Baby please answer me. ' and stuff like that, but Y/n just blocked him. Less than a minute later, her phone rang. As soon as she saw that it was Neymar, she let him ring, but as soon as she realized that he was not going to give up so easily, she picked up the phone, but remained silent, letting him speak.

"Hi meu amor. I know you are there, but you are silent because you want me to speak, so I will speak and tell you everything. The other night after we won the game we went out for a treat but we got drunk and I don't even know how I got home. I swear to god I don't know the girl who was next to me. They set it up! We haven't done anything, I promise you. I know the pictures you saw don't do justice to my words, but I have a video where she is paid to lie next to me half naked. I'll send it to you so you can make sure too. Eu te amo muito. Eu nunca faria algo assim para te machucar. Você significa muito para mim. [ I love you so much. I would never do anything like that to hurt you. You mean so much to me.]" After he explained everything to her in one breath, Y/n unblocked him to send her the video. And he was right. The girl could be clearly seen haggling for the amount of money and eventually getting it, before taking off her dress and laying down next to the sleeping Neymar. But how did she get into his room?

"You can see for yourself what it's all about. I still don't know how she managed to get into my room and who helped her and why they took pictures, but at least I can rest assured that you know the truth." Neymar sighed, his red eyes filled with tears once again. He doesn't know how he let things get here. Only a day since the love of his life left him, but he doesn't know what is happening around him. At least now that Y/n had let him explain the ugly situation, he hoped she would return to his arms. He missed her, her touch, her kisses, her voice, her laugh, her presence in general. He was so deeply madly in love with her that he was ready to leave his family and end his career for her, and we all know how important family & football are to him.

He was just about to hang up the phone when her soft breaking voice called. "Ney, im so sorry. I should have let you explain earlier, but because of my stubborn head, I didn't and hurt both of us. I wish I could hug and kiss you. I miss you." Y/n said, her voice quiet but understandable. She knows that's not possible because of the miles that separate them every day.

" Se você descer e sair, seu desejo pode se tornar realidade. Se você descer e sair, seu desejo pode se tornar realidade. " [If you go downstairs and go outside, your wish may come true.]" Neymar replied with a small smile that could be heard in his voice.

He was here. He was finally here. Her smile shot across her face. Y/n would finally see him. She was so excited that she didn't even bother to get a jacket and flew down the stairs, opening the front door as quickly as possible. And here in front of her stood Neymar. With his classic smile and different hairstyle. He opened his arms and Y/n ran up and jumped on top of him. Her legs wrapped around his hips, his arms around her back and under her thigh to keep her from dropping to the ground. She nuzzled her face into his neck, smelling his fresh scent & he buried his face in her hair, inhaling her shampoo, which smelled of vanilla and cinnamon.

They pulled back and smashed their lips into each other's. Their lips seemed to be made for each other and fit together like a puzzle. Ney couldn't seem to enjoy Y/n's cherry lip balm & her hands were tangled in his curls.

"I missed you and I'm so sorry I didn't believe you at first." Y/n whispered, forehead pressed against Neymar's.

" Tudo está bem agora. Eu te amo." [ Everything is good now. I love you.]

" Te amo mais." [I love you more.]

[beepersteeper]

I Will Always Find You -- Astarion x Tav - - The Night is Young | part 4

Astarion and F!Tav live happily together for the remaining years she has, she refuses to be turned into a vampire because her faith says that her soul isn’t finished with its work yet. Tav dies of old age and leaves Astarion to put together the pieces of his broken heart. AN: Lord of Light lore taken and changed to fit the story's means. Not canonically accurate. TLDR story line stuff. This is an AU where Astarion ascends but isn't a power hungry bastard and Tav is able to help him continue healing. Wyll is immortal and the Duke. Karlach in my mind, if given a new engine would be able to live a lot longer than the usual tiefling. Another AN: idk if anyone wants tagged in this WIP but let me know. 

Astarion shuffles the books onto a shelf quickly and straightens them out. “If the offer to visit stays I'm sure I'll be around.” He unwraps his sandwich and enjoys a bite. After a few more hours, the customer stream becomes stagnant. “Why don't you kids take the rest of the day to yourselves. I can close up shop today.” Her dad says, looking from the clock on the wall to his daughter.

Ta’vira smiles wide and kisses him on his cheek thanking him and walking quickly to the curtained room. When she was out of sight her dad walked up to Astarion and put a couple silver into his palm “Buy her something nice" he winked.

Astarion smiles and returns the coins “I will sir." Patting the back of the man's hand.

Her father raises his eyebrows and nods approval and watches Astarion offer his arm to Ta’vira to take after reaching for his pack. “You kids have fun.” He waves “but not too much fun, you hear me Little Star?"

Astarion blushes, his ears burning and laughs holding up both of his hands showing innocence. “Only modest wholesome fun sir."  He chuckles while being practically pulled through the door.

"Well daddy sure seems to like you.” She laughs, slowing her pace to a walk after they are out of view of the bookstore.

"What's not to like?” He says running his fingers of his free hand through his hair. “He did say I was impressive." He jokes earning a soft swat to his arm “I'm nearly 350 years old, I have to admit being called ‘son’ and ‘you kids’ is a bit novel.” He laughs and offers his arm to her to take. She does and he pulls her arm closer to his body. They both laugh and walk through the town stopping by every little shop they pass to see the wares. Not finding anything to buy but appreciating them nonetheless. 

Ta’vira found a silk shawl in the clothing shop that she could not take her eyes or hands off of. She would go to set it down and then wrap it back around her shoulders looking in the mirror turning from side to side. Eventually she frowned and sighed under her breath and folded it neatly to return it to the shelf. Astarion watched from a few steps behind her as she fell in love with the garment. He stepped forward sliding his hand under the soft fabric, stopping it from being placed back where it came from. He takes the shawl in his hand and quietly carries it to the teller while Ta’vira watches with her jaw slack. “No! Don’t! You don't have to do that." She protests. Reaching in vain for the shawl. 

“I'm aware." He says playfully with a half smile on his lips “have to and want to are different things entirely, Ta’vira." He laughs, handing the woman at the counter enough coins. And nods a thank you to her. He turns to Ta’vira and wraps it around her shoulders through her useless protest and threads the button through an opening securing it around her shoulders. “It suits you." He states with a soft smile while smoothing the fabric on her frame. He holds the crook of his arm out again.

She rolls her eyes and takes his offer. “Thank you." She sighs “it is beautiful."

“Like I said. It suits you." He smiles, turning his eyes to meet hers, watching her turn away to hide her smile and blush filling her cheeks and ears.

The duo walk through the town again finding a crowd forming around several sorcerers putting on a light show with their magic. The two weave through the crowd to get a better view. He moves her to stand in front of him making sure she can see, but also making sure that she is safe, and that she wouldn't have to worry about pickpockets or people with bad intentions. Letting her be completely in the moment while he half watched the show and half took stock of their surroundings, old habits that he is mostly glad he had. As the show continued she kept making impressed sounds and he watched her face light up from the lights but also from her pure excitement. As the show winds to an end, he feels her lean her weight into his body watching the grand finale, he instinctively places his hands on her slender waist to help support her. He sighs a smile, feeling that knot in his chest loosen. After scanning the crowd again his eyes fall to her. Admiring the way her hair falls over her shoulders smoothly and effortlessly.

“That's always amazing," She says excitedly. Turning her body to face him “don't you think?”

"Yeah~” he smiles. The street performers have always been enchanting to watch but he has become hyper aware of his hands at that moment. Somehow the touch was way too intimate and comfortable at the same time. “Where to now?" He flashes a crooked smile. 

“Are you getting hungry at all?" Ta’vira asks, still facing him as the crowd dissipates, her hands gently placed on his chest from the other people bumping around and into them she had lost her balance and caught herself there.

“I could eat." He shrugs and looks down the line of food vendors.

“Do you need… " she trails off and mouths blood “or like dinner?"

He chuckles “Dinner.” He puts his arm around her torso, leading her through the crowd to find lines of food vendors “What are you feeling?”

“I don't know, I don't come out here at this time almost ever. Let's just see what looks good.” She shrugs and scans the vendors she can see. Settling on a vendor touting “The best meat pies.” 

Astarion orders two and pays and tips the vendor before being handed two chicken and gravy pies. They find their way to a bench near the water away from the other patrons. They sit quiet enjoying their dinner enough to forgo conversation. “The sign didn't lie” Ta’vira laughs wiping her face with a balled up napkin. She looked go Astarion who was finishing his pie and had crumbs scattered across his face. She giggles before she reaches over and brushes them off “More a messy eater than I assumed.” 

He rolls his eyes, wiping his own face, putting his hand out to gather her trash with his. “That was delicious, I couldn't help myself.” He laughs, “I usually have more tact than that.” He walks a few steps away from her to throw away the garbage, careful to not let her out of his sight. He returns to the bench and leans into the back looking onto the water, watching the lights from passing ships and the moon reflect off the calm water. 

“Vira, by the way." She breaks the silence pulling her knees to her chest covering her legs with her new shawl.

“What?" Astarion asks, confused by her statement.

“You can call me Vira." She smiles into her knees. “You asked what you should call me.”

"I thought your friends called you Vira.” He jokes, nudging his shoulder into hers gently toying with her.

“Are we not friends?” She feigns being hurt, putting her hand playfully to her chest.

“I suppose we are.” He smiles, putting his arms on the back of the wooden bench, returning his gaze to the horizon.

“Can I ask you a few questions? If they're too much you can just say no." She asks as she turns to face him.

He nods, putting his arm around her gently “Why not."

“How old are- were you when you became a vampire?"

"39.” He sighs, forcing his shoulders to relax. Fix your shoulders darling. He heard Tav's reminders. You always carry your stress there.

“Wow, so young." She sighs a small frown on her face “was it willingly?"

“Not quite, but that's a story for another day darling." He doesn't lie, but doesn't want to talk about that right now, the night has been perfect. No need to dirty it with talks of him.

“That's okay.” She shrugs happily taking his response, not trying to force any conversation “How are you able to be out in the sun? I've heard of a city of vampires in the Underdark but never like you.” Her eyes meet his.

“That’s… that is a very long story.” he draws a shallow breath. Steeling himself to answer the question he is least proud of. “But  the short version is I've been given an opportunity that no other has ever been afforded. Had to do some terrible things for a greater good, and ended up with a handsome reward for the effort. I have all of the strengths a vampire has while still being able to enjoy the luxuries of the living.” he states plainly moving his eyes to the horizon again.

“One more and I promise to be done for now. Where have you been for the last 30 years?” she shyly asks, readjusting herself on the bench.

“Now that's a question" he tuts “I've been to so many places. I needed to get away from the Gate to clear my head. Everywhere I looked here was Tav. I couldn't tell you where I was exactly but nowhere felt right so I was constantly moving, looking for something I couldn't find. I guess I was looking for Tav like I promised I would.” He shrugs “But I never felt whole like I did when I returned to the cemetery.” He points toward the direction of the cemetery with his thumb before returning his arm to her shoulders.

“That's kind of sweet." She smiles leaning her head onto his shoulder trying to sap some of his warmth.

He smiles and pushes her away gently “Up for a moment darling." He takes his jacket off and offers it to her, holding it to allow her to put her arms in the sleeves. Vira removes her shawl and slips her arms into the jacket. She smiles and puts the shawl over her legs while thanking him. He pulls gently on her shoulder to return to his. “Do you remember specifics from any of your past lives?" He takes the moment to ask  question of his own.

“Nothing that I can pinpoint as being more or less recent." She shrugs “But like… I have these crazy dreams and bouts of…  deja vu. This one in particular I see myself fighting impossible enemies with faceless friends.” She laughs a hearty laugh “like I swear I've fought a machine made of ancient metal that was crushed by a giant forge hammer. And then my large and incredibly warm friend was beside herself, cackling hysterically when the hammer both killed the Titan and created the weapon in the slot.” She laughs at the nostalgia playing with her hair.

“Faceless friends?" He was shocked by hearing a story that he lived from someone who wasn't there. No one else was besides him, Tav, Wyll and Karlach. They didn't even tell the rest of the party because the shadow lands happened so quickly after and that took all of their attention. “And you crushed a titan… with a forge hammer?"

“It sounds crazy right? Like something Volo would write.” She scoffs “All of my memories are clouded and distorted. I don't see people's faces or anything of the like. Unless they're from my current go at things.”

“Not as crazy as you'd think." He tries to hide his shock. Eyes wide still staring at the dark horizon. 

She shrugs after a moment of looking at him without his returned gaze. “Thanks for a great night." She sighs, returning her head to his shoulder.

“Don't thank me yet” He smiles “the night is still young. Let's go find something else to do.” He stands up and holds his hands out for her to take. 

She smiles wide and puts the shawl in his open hands. He scoffs playfully and tucks the garment under his arm and returns his hands to where they were. This time she takes them with a smile being pulled to stand. She threads her arm through his arm that isn't holding her shawl, holding his upper arm with her free hand.

They weave through the town not stopping anywhere in particular but enjoying the company and adventure around their town. Eventually they just make their way back to the bookstore. “I hope your father doesn't think I kept you out too long.” He smirks, squeezing onto her hand that's holding onto his bicep.

“He doesn't.” Her father speaks from the open window on the second floor. “Just hope you treated her like the lady he is.”

“Wouldn't dream of anything but sir." Astarion laughs covering his mouth with his hand trying not to yell into the night while others might be sleeping. “I even bought her something nice.” He holds the shawl in the air. 

“Don't look down here daddy.” She warns as she pulls herself onto her tiptoes placing a hard kiss on Astarions cheek "Thanks for a great night.” She smiles, her face staying close to his. Hearing her father groan and shut the shutters. 

“Of course darling.” He coos placing his finger under her chin and his thumb on its front holding her face close to his “I had a great time. And I could only hope to be so lucky to have another one day.”

“Why don't you come by tomorrow and see if you're a lucky man.” She smirks, leaning her chin into his grasp. 

He kisses her forehead and hands her her shawl “Until tomorrow then." He smiles, slightly but enough to crease the lines by his eyes “Goodnight Vira."

“Goodnight Astarion." She smiles and walks into the building.

He doesn't leave until he hears the door lock and sees the candle light disappear from the windows.  When he does leave he walks through the cemetery first, resting his bag next to him in front of Tav's headstone. “I hope this is all okay. It feels right and wrong all at the same time." He whispers, reaching into his bag looking for his books to be greeted by a beacon that had a note tied to it in case you wanted to feel close to Tav. With a flourished signature Vira~. “She's not you, but…” he trails off and gestures the beacon toward the headstone and bookstore. “I have to admit some things are uncanny.”  He sighs, smiling at the beacon. “this is the kind of shit you would do my love.” He chuckles, replacing it in the bag, no longer looking for the book. “I just hope I'm not insulting you. I'll come by tomorrow. I love you more.” He kisses the stone and flies back to the palace, becoming more in need of rest than he realized.

When he arrives Wyll is in the office leafing through papers. Astarion makes his presence known by clearing his throat. “I hope I'm not intruding."

“Not at all my friend. How was your day? You've been gone all day."

“Honestly Wyll." Astarion sighs, letting himself down into a velvet chair across the desk from Wyll leaning his forearms on his knees. “It's the best day I've had in decades." A smile peaking at his eyes again.

“Do tell. I've looked forward to seeing you smile like that again.” Wyll says, setting his papers to the side.

Astarion rambles on about his day. The beacons. The cemetery. The visions. The outing. The pie. "You'll have to get one. Seriously the best thing I've eaten in a long time.”

“You had a date?” Wyll prods "I'm happy for you!”

“Not a date.” Astarion protests "Just getting to know her. It can’t be a date, I've barely known her for a full day.”

“Riiight.” Wyll drawls out his response. “Not a date." He chuckles “I think my friend has a crush. But what do I know." He jokingly shrugs, returning to his stack of paperwork.

Astarion scoffs "If I protest you'll just take that as admittance anyway.” Wyll nods smiling at him. “If it was a date, it was a wonderful date.” Astarion says leaning into the back of the chair. “I just feel guilty. Tav was my one. She was everything and more than I could have ever dreamed.”

“Be happy Astarion.” Wyll urges, giving his full attention to his friend. “Tav would want you to be happy. That's all she ever wanted, truly. And if she's right, you have to meet people to find her. I guarantee she would not be sour if you're dating after 30 years of mourning.” Wyll moves his hand and wrist to gesture as time passes.

“You might be right.” Astarion sighs contentedly “Gods I hope you are.” he blinks away the daydream “Enough of that are you working on tonight?" He changes the subject right before they hear a quiet knock on the palace door followed by a louder one. They look at each other before moving quickly to the door, getting in front of the night employees, both with their hands on their weapons as they open the door.

“Hi,” Vira waves “I'm sorry it’s late, I just realized you forgot this." she adds sheepishly with Astarions jacket in her outstretched hand.

“Come in here." Astarion sighs, blinking a long blink while grabbing her hand in his and pulling her carefully into the foyer. “You shouldn't be wandering out this far at this time. There are harmful people out there” He shuts the door behind her “and your father will kill us both if he finds out that you're here right now." He tries to sound sour but can't while stifling a laugh at her reckless behavior.

“He knows I'm here.” She tuts sticking her tongue out laying his jacket in his hand.

“Right, of course he does.” he chides “Well, this is Vira, Wyll.” Astarion introduces her by putting his hand on her shoulder and using the other to bring attention to her. 

“Well met, My friend was just recounting your night. I'll leave you two to it. I'll be in the office for a while longer." He bows his head and excuses himself, patting Astarion on his shoulder reassuringly.

“He doesn't know you're here does he?" Astarion crosses his arms around the jacket already knowing well enough her father would never let her out this far at this hour.

“Fine, not so much, he knows I was going to the cemetery and I realized I had your jacket, and I wasn't going to bring it until I felt that rock in your breast pocket-” she gestures a hand towards the jacket “and decided that you shouldn't be without it." She shrugs explaining her excuse. "Look, I already have her beacon, I don't want her to be sour with me for keeping your special rock too.” She puts her hand on his arm and steps closer to him.

He laughs taking her hand in his "She hasn't asked to see it in a long time. I think one night would have been fine." 

“Maybe I'll have to start asking for her, to keep you honest." she smirks.

"I think she would appreciate that.” He laughs loudly thinking about Tav checking for the silly stone even from beyond the grave. “Now let's get you home. Again. Before your father finds me a lot less impressive.” He guides her by the waist out the door. 

Before they leave the front of the palace she quickly turns to him grabbing his face in both her hands and kisses his lips. Their eyes meet for a moment before he puts his hand on the base of her head and pulls her face to his, kissing her more passionately than she had just done, feeling the butterflies in his chest take flight.

“I have no idea what we're doing." She laughs sheepishly, her ears burning red. “I just know that I wanted to do that all evening.”

“I can’t say I mind." He whispers and licks his lips. They smile at each other and walk hand in hand to the edge of the cemetery. “Now go home Vira, for real this time.” He chuckles, kissing her knuckles before letting her hand go. “Goodnight. I'll make sure you get in safely. And I'll see you tomorrow."

She whispers a goodnight and turns to walk away their fingers slipping from each other's grasp as she does. He turns into a white bat and follows her back to her house, watching her enter again, And the candle light fading through the windows again. He smiles to himself and flies home. He returns to his natural form and enters the office.

“She seems nice. Stubborn. Like she'll keep you on your toes." Wyll chuckles “Coming all the way out here to bring you your jacket? That’s bold.”

“Stubborn." He responds by exemplifying that word he rests in the chair again. “She's something.” He states not realizing a smile creeps on his face. “Maybe I'm reaching. Maybe I've completely lost it. But I would bet that I found her. She doesn't know it. But my Tav is in there somewhere, Wyll.” Wylls face wears the question he wants to ask as Astarion continues “Do you remember the adamantine forge?"

“Of course. Big monster. Bigger hammer. Mama K in stitches after the sword just popped out of its mould from the force. I'll never forget that.” He laughs into the desk

“EXACTLY!” Astarion sits up straight and scoots to the edge of his chair, excited. “She told ME about that today! That's no coincidence, Wyll." He explains the story as Vira did.

“A faceless but warm friend laughing hysterically…wow. There are only 4 souls that know about that…” Wyll thinks quietly for a while “Now what?”

“From what I've read she needs to figure it out, and hopefully will in due time, supposedly memories become more clear as people mature- unfortunately she is an elf so it could still be years before she really remembers anything.” he groans “I don't think I can just tell her.” He shrugs “It seems like I might have more work cut out for me than I thought. But I'm not crazy for thinking that, right? Not just blinded by my own want? “

“Not if she knows about that, I mean, there's no way right?”

“No, that's why Karlach held that sword up like she did, leaving a joke in that painting that only we would understand.” Astarion said before wyll joined in.

“It'll be funny, come on! Just let me hold it." They both mock Karlach calling back to that night. They laugh together for a moment, before quietly sitting in each other's company before Astarion asks again what Wyll is working on.

“I’m just examining the Flaming Fists by-laws. There have been complaints about them overusing their power and I plan on showing them exactly what their breath of abilities are. Want to take a look?" He holds a folder out to Astarion who takes it.

“Are they beating and jailing innocent folks again? Because that seems to be the cycle they always fall into." Astarion groans, remembering being physically thrown into a cell after Tav accidentally nicked a book that was supposedly owned, even though she just wanted to read it and put it back down.

Wyll points a finger toward him “You're right. I'm meeting with the head of the Fist the day after tomorrow, do you want to join me?”

“Sure, might as well get my feet wet again, I'm a little out of practice.” he sighs, honestly not wanting to take his roles back entirely.

“I won't lie to you, I'll be at a bit of a loss when I ultimately return your seats to you completely.” He chuckles, “I've gotten quite comfortable up here.”

“If you want to keep it, it's yours. You're doing far better than I would anyway. I'll just fall in behind you, be the Duke's right hand and all.”

“We'll cross that bridge another time.” Wyll waves his hand "I would hate to take advantage of your current affliction.” Wyll jokes making a love heart shape in the air with his fingers.

Astarion tosses a pencil at him to get him to stop. “I mean it, you ass.”

“As do I” Wyll calmly returns the pencil to Astarion and points at the papers “Now read what's in front of you if you don't mind.” They discuss the packets for the better part of an hour before they both retire to their rooms.

Astarion steps into his and Tav’s room and feels the knot in his chest barely tighten when he looks at the bed. He sighs a smile and changes into his night clothes. He sets himself in the chair to rest again, deciding he’s still unwilling to sleep in bed. He is awoken again by a knock on his door and someone on the other side offered to fetch his morning goblet.

“Two please." He stretches his body, joints cracking from being contorted in strange ways to rest. As he waits for his breakfast he gets dressed in another set of his plain clothes- plain pants with boots and a black button up shirt with a vest and a jacket he folded and put in his bag, careful to put Tav's stone in the pocket. Dabbing on some of his sweet scented oils from years gone by before he retrieved his breakfast and drank them quickly, excited for another day with Vira. He hurried out of the palace with his bag holding his own studies and her beacon. He was still buttoning his vest as he was walking down the sidewalk. 

He walks into the front door of the store moments after it opened. Greeting Vira's father with a firm handshake “Good morning sir.” as he looks over to Vira who is perchinging on the arm of a chair looking over a packing list for a shipment of books to a local church. Wearing a black cotton dress with her new shawl draped over her shoulders. 

“Welcome back Astarion, my Vira told me you both had a great evening." He smiles, eyeing Astarion, causing his ears to burn a little. “She said you were a perfect gentleman.”

“I am capable of more than my roguish looks might convey sir.” He jokes, shaking his hand again. Sneaking another glance at Vira as she stands to pack a crate of books. 

“Go on son, I'm smart enough to know you didn't come here to talk with me.” He smiles and ushers Astarion to go see his daughter. “But I do appreciate a man with some sense between his ears."

Astarion tries to mute his excitement as he walks cooly toward the counter and starts handing her books. “Good morning, darling." He smiles, honeyed words rolling from his tongue and letting his fingers brush against hers “I hope you slept well." 

Vira blushes, “It took me longer than usual to fall asleep.” She blushed “I was studying Tav's beacon for a while” before she whispered to him quietly. “and I couldn't stop thinking about our wonderful evening.” she beams a smile to him.

He smiles wide handing her the last book from the pile “Did you get any more information from the beacon?" He asks, leaving her last comment where it was.

“Nothing more than I did when you were here." She shrugs, pressing the lid on the crate and calling to her father “Daddy, the order is ready!"

“Leave our copy of the packing list on the desk. Why don't you and Little Star take it over, they'll be happy to get it early.” He states looking over the top of his morning paper. 

She nods and slides the heavy crate from the counter with a grunt struggling to balance the load. “Goodness." Astarion grumbles helping her steady the crate in her arms “Would you just let me carry that?"

“I am very capable of carrying this." She readjusts the parcel. “Thank you very much.”

“I am sure you are perfectly capable darling." He laughs taking the crate from her hands without any real fight earning a chuckle and an approving paper waggle from her father “but you are also able to ask for help when you need it.” He tuts holding the crate with ease.

“You tell her Little Star.” Her father jeers.

“Don't encourage him, daddy." She grumbles, opening the door, urging Astarion out of it “We'll be right back." She shuts the door and tells Astarion where they're going. 

The two walk through town, talking about nothing in particular as they arrive at their destination. They deliver the crate and set their course back to the bookstore. They walk slowly enjoying the time they get to share. She wraps her arms around his holding onto him just above his elbow. He almost on instinct raises his forearm across his stomach. She sighs contentedly, squeezing his arm softly three times.

He looks down at her quizzically “What was that?” he says as he hears Tav's voice in his mind just saying I love you even when I don't want to speak. She would squeeze his hand or arm or thigh millions of times through their life together. During dinners, meetings, while walking through their adventure, or even during arguments.

“What was what?” Vira asks, confused.

He laughs to himself “You just squeezed my arm, just making sure you're okay.”

“I'm great.” She sighs “If I'm being honest this has been the best I've felt as far as I can remember.” she smiles to herself still walking in stride with Astarion, looking around their surroundings taking in the day.

“I'm glad.” He says returning three squeezes her hand. “And thanks by the way.” He hums “for the beacon, I didn't anticipate a trade when I gave you Tav's."

“I know” she plainly shrugs “but seeing the way your face lit up when you used it, I knew it wasn't meant to be mine.”

“You're too good to me." He tuts tugging in her arm to help her avoid a pothole “you barely know me.”

“But I feel like I do." She says seamlessly avoiding the divot. “And I think you deserve goodness. Even if you might not think the same thing." 

He rolls his eyes hearing Tav's voice saying the same thing every single time he speaks negatively about himself. Smiling at hearing the words out loud again. They walk the rest of the way to the bookstore continuing to talk about trivial topics. Astarion opens the door for Vira to walk though being greeted by her father. The three elves spend the day organizing and cataloging books for more orders and onto shelves. Vira and Astarion find any excuse to work on a task together throughout the day.

“Well I guess it is more efficient this way." Her father chuckled watching the two stacking books orderly in several crates “You know you're not on the payroll here, right son?"

“I know sir" Astarion flashes that award winning smile and lets his eyes drift to Vira “I just like having an excuse to keep myself in such beautiful company.”

“Is that right?" He laughs, raising an eyebrow “You kids getting hungry? Vira will you go and grab lunch from that meat pie vendor. I need Little Star’s help moving some heavy shipment from this morning.”

“Be nice daddy.” She scolds "he's a good man.” 

"I am nice dear. We'll both be here when you get back. Now run along, the sooner you leave the sooner you get to come back to see your new friend.”She begrudgingly sighs and leaves, giving Astarion a sorry smile to apologize. When the door latches her father walks over and flips the open sign to closed, making Astarions stomach flip with it.

Taglist:

@zoeloveslotr @silverfangmarks @prudent-nerd

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Hey, not sure if it’s recognizable but it’s the same anon who doesn’t know how to start messages. If you don’t mind me asking (I feel the need to ask permission for everything to be polite. Hope that’s not annoying. Also the need to use parenthesis to explain my actions like right now…I’ll stop), since I saw that it says you’re writing a fantasy book (I think, hopefully I’m not wrong), what’s it about? Feel free to share as much or as little as you like, I’m simply curious about it. Also also, somewhat unrelated, do you have any other favorite genres aside from Whump?

Again, feel free to answer as in depth or as curt as you want, I don’t mean to put pressure on you (people like talking about their works, right?). And also make sure you stay hydrated and take care of yourself and all that :)

-idk

Figured I’d leave a little tag as a little reference or something. Okay I’m going to stop before I start rambling-

Sorry it took so long to answer this one! I had to do a lot of writing for it. I'll TRY to give a summary of my in-progress trilogy, but it's pretty long since it's a full 3-book series and each book is HUGE and I've never been good at summarizing anyway LOL. But here goes!

The trilogy is about a teenager named Thomas whose dad mysterious died and whose brother Lucas went missing shortly after. Thomas is a hacker who is skilled with technology and is determined to track his brother down, convinced that he was kidnapped and needs saving. But every lead he finds comes to a dead end. He's dropped out of school and cut off his entire social life to dedicate more time to tracking down his missing brother.

Tanner, a close adult friend of his, worries about him getting into trouble and potentially going to prison since he has committed several felonies already by hacking into government databases during his search. So, he suggests seeking help from a friend of his. Only thing is... this friend isn't human. And she hates humans. But his secret friend (named Shadow) ALSO hates the same organization Thomas is trying to get in to, who has his brother Lucas. She is dangerous and powerful, and could be an incredibly valuable ally. She is one of the last survivors of a thought-to-be-extinct race called Falkry, with ancient powers. They were thought to have died off centuries ago, after Falley were hunted and slaughtered by the dozens by humans.

So with a mutual enemy, Tanner tries to get Shadow and Thomas together to talk, though Shadow wants nothing to do with it at first and despises Thomas (making many threats toward him in the beginning). She hates the fact that he is human, the same race that killed so many of her bloodline. She is ancient, supposed to be nothing more than a myth, a legend. She's one of the only survivors that exists. But eventually Tanner gets her on the team and together they manage to Lucas back.

Until a new stranger comes into play, someone just like Shadow. Which is strange since her species is supposed to be extinct. It leads into a mystery theme where Shadow is eager to discover this new stranger's identity, and *spoilor* it turns out to be her own brother (named Rowan) who died in her arms ages ago. But it turns out there was an enemy who found a way to bring him back to life to use him as a weapon, but he is corrupted, and is willing to fight Shadow to achieve his goal, which is to destroy the human city because humans are what got him killed in the first place.

And while Shadow HATES humans, she knows that if Rowan launches a large-scale attack on the city, it will spark a war between her kind and humans, and the humans have the numbers to finally make her species extinct for good. So it creates some internal conflict where Shadow is torn between not hurting her brother who she still loves, and stopping him to save the human city to prevent all-out war.

There is an epic battle at the end, where both Rowan and Shadow end up seriously injured, when Thomas appears and shoots a crazed Rowan to save Shadow -- but it doesn't work out like he expected, because then Rowan's focus shifts to killing HIM instead.

While Rowan's back is turned, Shadow gets up from where she'd been bleeding and broken on the ground -- and runs up to her brother, and kills him with her own dagger, finally accepting that he's too far gone to save. So her brother dies in her arms for a second time, shattering her heart with grief despite how much trauma and pain she's already endured.

After that, she decides to disappear from the map entirely, leaving Thomas and the human city to fly miles into the ocean to a lost island called Falkradia where her species used to exist before they were chased out by humans -- she wants to be alone, and be done with all the fighting and bloodshed. She partly blames Thomas for putting her in a situation where she had to choose between him and her brother in the first place, blaming him for forcing her to kill Rowan.

The island is hidden from all human radars and is surrounded by an eternal storm that shields it from view, a storm vicious enough to shred nearly any human vessel that tries to go through it to reach the island inside. So Shadow leaves the team Tanner helped put together.

This all takes place in book 1.

In book 2, to make it brief, a new threat arises that Shadow is one again recruited to help defeat, Tanner sending her a message via her close friend raven who knows how to fly through the storm and reach Falkradia to deliver the message to her asking for help.

Despite how morally-gray and careless Shadow is depicted as in book 1, she does show up to rejoin the team, though she is not enthusiastic about it.

A series of events occur after she comes back from ten island, but in the final battle against the overpowered foe... she dies to save Thomas. It has some powerful symbolism because up to this point Shadow has been very impassive and uncaring toward anyone, full of bitter anger and hatred, so no one knew she actually secretly cared about what happened to Thonas, who is her natural enemy as a human.

But Shadow still manages to kill her enemy right before she collapses in a final last act of good, and Thomas can't do anything but watch her slowly bleed out. Cue extremely sad death and drawn-out scene to rip reader's heart apart. The aftermath is tragic as the team grieves the loss of the morally-gray hero who gave her life to save and protect a human friend. (Okay, it wasn't as brief as I hoped oops)

In book three, a different kind of antagonist/protagonist plot develops, and it's a danger that Tanner, Thomas and the team know they would never stand a chance against on their own.

That's when Tanner reveals that he actually knows a way to bring back the dead. So they eventually agree to bring Shadow back after five long years of her being dead... but she isn't herself. She immediately starts attacking her friends the moment she is alive again, her mind and thoughts fractured from being dead for so long. And considering how dangerous she is, Thomas and friends have to find a way to take her down before she can kill them. And on TOP of that is the lingering anxiety surrounding the new threat they have to deal with, knowing that Shadow is likely the only one powerful enough to help destroy it -- IF they can get the legendary hero back, mind and soul included.

There is a LOT more details I left out for the sake of time, but these summaries hopefully give the vague gist of the stories (all 3 books in the trilogy are spectacularly lengthy so it's hard to give a good summary)

And my favorite genres aside from Whump is Science-Fiction & Fantasy

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

just marathoned the infatuation sungchan story <//3 i love sungchan too much sorry renjun if i see him in the pet store i would have fallen head over heels

i kinda wanna see the infatuation series to be like flipped (??) idk how to explain but yn is basically the yandere one or theyre also a yandere w him obsessing w eo

like yn and somi going to the pet store and he gets infatuated by sungchan with how cute he is and completely forgotten theyre getting stalked and becomes obsessed w sungchan

but also a part 2 of the recent sungchan drabble sounds good it may be angst but also comfort fluff w yn becoming guilty over leaving sungchan and even though somi and renjun is near they ran cause what is happening w sungchan? they see him crying and they comfort him (u could make it seem like somi and renjun followed yn idk)

INFATUATION thats a name i haven't seen in my inbox in a hot sec (aside from that one req) but also ugsdfhgfdjhg no me too Sungchan u caught my heart boyo!!!!

But also you know what I actually toyed with an idea similar before but with a different idol group, ATEEZ. It's in the drafts rn, but the whole thing is Seonghwa is the first Yan while YN goes through some descent into madness but yeah fun stuff! Maybe that will be a spooky season thing hehe

But no yeah that's a solid idea! There was a time that I planned to do a silly after-end thing once I finally sat down and finished Johnny's ending buuuuut we'll see hehehe anyway a part 2 👀 sure why not?

~

Infatuation AU Pairing: Yandere!Sungchan x Reader TW: Unsettling themes, Blood, Implied Self Harm Notes: I can see the need for a good ending but these infatuated boys will never know joy >:) [Part 1]

"Oh my god, (Y/N)!" Somi's arms wrapped around you tight, not letting you go for a minute, even when you eventually separated her hand still held yours. "Where have you been? We've been so worried!" She clasps her hands over yours now across the booth. You'd both decided to meet up at the Starbucks by campus, it was just the easiest place to pinpoint, you'd spent almost all of your undergrad there together and, for some reason, it seemed to be the safest place right now.

"I... I don't even know where to start, Soms..." you shook your head slowly. "I missed you guys so much..."

"Where were you?" Her eyes were desperate.

"Do you..." You looked around. "Do you remember Sungchan?"

"That kid from the pet store? What about him?" You were silent, and Somi pieced the story together herself. But, before she could say anymore, the door to the cafe opened and someone rushed in.

"Somi! I came as soon as you called!" Renjun was frantic, but he seemed to calm down as soon as he saw you. And you felt your heart melt at him. "(Y/N)..." your name was fragile on his lips. "Oh my god, (Y/N)," he reached for you and, for some reason, you flinched back, and Renjun's heart broke.

"Sorry," you muttered, rubbing your wrists habitually. Renjun fell into the seat next to Somi.

"What happened?" If Somi was desperate, Renjun was crazed. "Months, no contact, no sign, we've been looking for you nonstop and here you are... okay," he says. You didn't blame him for looking this way, hell, he's never looked worse.

"It's such a long story," you said. Then, your phone rang. And you answered it before Somi and Renjun could even think of looking at it.

"Hello?" You said quietly. The other two listened with baited breath.

"... Where are you?" Sungchan's voice was quiet too. You hesitated.

"At a Starbucks," you didn't exactly lie.

"... where?" He asked again. You swallowed harshly. "Please come home, I'm sorry, I know I said you could go, but... I didn't think you'd be gone this long. Please come home. I don't know what I'm going to do without you here. Come home, (Y/N)."

"I," you looked at your friends and you couldn't read their expressions. "I'll be right there." You rushed out. You remembered the last time this happened, the last time you were gone for just a bit too long and at that time you were just in the pet shop with the bunnies, imagine now, you're in a whole other town, and you had to take the taxi just to get home.

You were fumbling with the keys to the apartment when you realized the sheer ridiculousness of your statement. Home? When did you consider this hellhole your home? You didn't know. You didn't even have time to close the door when you ran in.

"Sungchan?" You looked around the apartment. It was quiet, too quiet. You started opening doors and cabinets, anything you'd think to check regardless of whether it was plausible or not, until, finally, you looked in the bathroom. You threw open the shower curtain, and Sungchan sat in the bathtub, legs pulled up to his chest and shirt twisted in such a strange way that you couldn't even fathom how it got like that in the first place. Sungchan looked up at you, phone still in his hand as if you were still on it, and he relaxed. "Oh..." you pitied him. And he reached for you, wrapping his arms around your legs and pressing his head against your thighs. You bent down slowly, adjusting so he was holding your shoulders instead. "It's okay, I'm here," you reassured him.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"It's fine, it's fine," you comforted him.

"I thought I was ready."

"It's fine," you ran your hands through his hair now.

"I..." Sungchan is cut off by a gasp. You look to the door and Somi has her hands over her mouth and Renjun... he was just quiet.

"Blood... blood," Somi's voice was muffled. You pulled Sungchan away from you for just a moment and near gagged. How did you not see that before.

"What the fuck..." Renjun mutters. "This? This is what you've had to do for months? Oh fuck..." he mumbles. His hand clutched his phone. "I'm calling the cops."

"Call an ambulance first! Oh god!" Somi panics.

"Sung? Sungchan?" You held his face in your hands and you look down at his arms again. "Why?!"

"You took too long."

~

General Tag List: @stopeatread @bat-shark-repellant @raeincitizen @umbralhelwolf @yangsrose @kazooms @sadcoffeecritic 

NCT Tag List: @cherrylovr @minjiville  

Infatuation: @lune1897 @beefchippp @nawkamoto @shiningstar-byulxx @treasuretaeil @jaesspresso @huangberryyy @yutafrita

If you want to be added to either tag list or removed just send me a reply to this post, and ask, or a DM and I’ll add you as soon as possible!

[malevolentmango]

meta thoughts on Loki's role in What You've Already Buried

Yes, this is a meta post about my own fic. idk how I got here but I do in fact have a lot of thoughts about Loki and how I chose to combine the p5r persona, the actual mythology of Loki, and Goro's character arc, so here we are.

If you haven't read the whole fic and you care about spoilers, make sure to leave this for after! Also, this got... really long and sort of all over the place. I tried to organize it all but alskdjfa oops?

So, to start, I'll go through the various stories I referenced in the fic. Obviously we're playing fast and loose with the mythology here in general, but stick with me.

Chapter 2

The dream in chapter 2 was the result of me mashing together two different, unrelated stories. The poem Hyndluljóð briefly references Loki eating a woman's roasted heart, and no matter how many times I told myself I didn't need to include that imagery anywhere in my fic, you can see that it ended up there anyway because it's sexy as hell. The rest of that scene, where Goro/Loki talks about his fate and how they will always end up here, is a reference to Loki's role in the death of the god Baldr, which results in Loki being bound and eventually starting Ragnarök when he breaks free. This is the first real hint in the story that Loki is behind all of this - particularly when he refers to Akira as "the bleeding god," which is an epithet for Baldr.

Fun fact about the dream sequences, actually: originally there were only two, the very vague one in chapter 1 and the binding in chapter 3. As I was editing chapter 2, I realized that I wanted to start building up to the eventual reveal of Loki's involvement much earlier than I had while writing (and in fact, when I first started writing this, I hadn't even decided who or what created the app - I just wanted to get the concept down, and it all kind of snowballed from there).

From there though, I picked up a bit of a theme, and a progression. The dreams were meant to parallel certain scenes we get in Goro's confidant route - things like him joking about taking Akira out at the arcade, and the game of billiards that's one big metaphor about Goro's subterfuge. They act as warnings, and in the case of the dreams, rather direct ones: Goro is literally eating Akira's heart. Goro is the one who wanted to kill him, and therefore Loki, as a part of his heart, is a danger to Akira. But Akira never takes them as warnings. What he sees are cries for help, a cycle that Goro can't break out of on his own.

The parallels between Goro and Loki are pretty blatant in this one. Talking about his lies, the people he's killed, how "I can be no other than what I am." That line is actually a reference to the song No More What Ifs, which plays in Jazz Jin: "I do not / regret with my choices I'm rather proud / ooh I know I won't change anything / because I can only be me."

Chapter 3

The dream in chapter 3 was, as Goro himself explains later, the binding of Loki from the poem Lokasenna. This one is actually pretty close to the original, with the major differences being that Loki was bound with the entrails of his own son and the "poison" is actually venom dripping from a snake. I think it's neat that Loki's reaction to the venom touching him is what's thought to create earthquakes, so I wanted to include that as well.

As mentioned above, this dream was actually the first one I wrote. The idea just sort of came to me while writing and I really wanted to include it. This is why it's a bit different from the others, in that it doesn't take place anywhere that would be familiar to Akira, but rather in the Void itself. And I think the result is that it's even more pointed than the previous dream. This is Loki himself showing Akira exactly what he's getting into - that Goro, and by extension himself, comes with a whole helluva lot of baggage. That if Akira goes through with this mission, he will forever be the Sigyn who loves Loki too much to let him be hurt, and must watch him hurt anyway.

But as we know, Akira is too stubborn to let that stop him. Akira believes wholeheartedly in saving people, but especially in saving Goro Akechi. That determination is really put on display in chapter 4.

Chapter 4

The dream in chapter 4 is different in that it's not based on an actual story, but rather on the etymology of the name Loki, which is thought to originate from a Germanic root word related to loops, knots, and hooks. I'm just gonna include the direct quote from Eldar Heide that inspired this because it's pretty great: "There is quite a bit of evidence that Loki in premodern society was thought to be the causer of knots/tangles/loops, or himself a knot/tangle/loop. Hence, it is natural that Loki is the inventor of the fishnet, which consists of loops and knots, and that the word loki is a term for makers of cobwebs: spiders and the like."

It's important to note at this point, I think, that all three of these dreams take place in the story after Akira and Goro have a conversation in the previous scene about who Goro is and what he wants. In chapter 2, Akira dreams of Goro eating his heart in the interrogation room directly after Akira tells Goro what he learned in the Velvet Room and Goro tries to convince Akira that he isn't worth saving.

In chapter 3, Akira dreams of the binding of Loki after Akira tells Goro that he's worthy of Robin Hood, and then teases him about how he found Black Mask Goro, and by extension Loki, attractive. This was partially just for fun (I was imagining it a bit as Loki going "you don't have a book about me yet? well check this shit out--"), but it's also another moment of Akira reaffirming that he wants Goro around.

So chapter 4, then, takes place the same night that Akira sends the thirst trap pic of himself to Goro, and Goro responds with a last ditch attempt at intimidation - trying to insist that even if Akira cares about him, he won't be able to handle the depth of Goro's feelings for him, because they're too much. He's too selfish, too possessive. Unfortunately for him, Akira is into that.

And this dream thus breaks the pattern. The previous ones were about things happening to Akira - he couldn't even speak in them. He was a bystander, a victim. In this one, he is literally bound, a treat all tied up for Goro/Loki to enjoy. The more Akira tries to escape, the more Goro/Loki breaks down, talking about how he can't let Akira go, that everyone leaves him. And when Akira does escape and goes directly to Goro/Loki instead of leaving, he delivers on the promise he didn't even realize he was making two chapters ago: that he will pull Goro out of the cycle and set him free too.

Chapter 5

The PTs genderbending and being chased through a forest came from the Gylfaginning book of the Prose Edda, which details how Loki turned into a mare in order to lure a builder's stallion away from his work and thus cheat him out of his payment from the Æsir. This encounter results in Loki later giving birth to the horse Sleipnir.

Utgard-Loki

From the same book comes the story of Utgard-Loki (technically written Útgarða-Loki, but I chose to leave it as "Utgard" the way the Persona series does). Utgard is a giant who agreed to shelter Loki and Thor for a night in exchange for performing a feat. The reason the Thieves have to do four feats is because there are actually two children with Loki and Thor in the story, but I didn't want to get into all that here. For similar reasons, their feats are a lot more straightforward than, for example, Loki competing in an eating contest against the personification of a wildfire.

Fenrir, Sköll, and Hati

Next, in the forest, we get Fenrir and his sons Sköll and Hati. The two younger wolves are said to chase the sun and moon across the sky until the onset of Ragnarök, at which point they would be caught and swallowed. In the fic, this has already happened, as their light is visible when the wolves howl - implying that Ragnarök has already started, and the Thieves are moving closer to the final battle.

The place they lead the Thieves to, Fenrir's island, is a direct reference to the island Lyngvi (meaning "a place overgrown with heather") where the Æsir bind Fenrir with Gleipnir, as described in Gylfaginning. They do so by tricking him and questioning his courage, saying that if he truly can't break free of this simple ribbon, then he must not be a danger to them after all. In reality, Odin feared Fenrir, who the prophecies said would be the death of Odin, and the gods considered all children of Loki to be too dangerous to be free.

This is where a lot of the threads start to come together with regards to how I chose to portray Loki in this fic: as a deviant, as a trickster, as a murderer, but also as someone who (like Goro) was a victim of his role in the larger story he's part of. Ragnarök can't happen without Loki - it doesn't matter how much he aids the gods, how much he's a part of their ranks. The moment he pulls the strings of Baldr's death, he's an outcast. He is the unwanted, the persecuted, all because it's foretold that he will be. He cannot escape the cycle. No one escapes Ragnarök.

In talking about this story with a friend, I described my portrayal of Loki as being more sympathetic than a lot of other ones I've read in this fandom. I think that really comes through in this scene, even though Loki isn't in it at all. Part of that is because it's from Akira's POV and he has a massive savior complex, but really I just liked the idea of twisting the lens through which we think about Loki as a character and how we connect him to the actual stories about him.

When I was reading about Loki for this fic, the idea I kept coming back to was that he just seems... tragic. That as much as he delights in causing suffering, it comes at the cost of a deep, personal pain. Imagine having everything you've worked for, everything you've done and created, taken away from you at the whims of someone more powerful than you. A player in a game you were born to lose. That's Loki, and it is also, of course, Goro Akechi.

Loki in the Mead Hall

This piece was, of course, inspired by Lokasenna, Loki's Flyting. The Thieves hear the gods reacting angrily to Loki's insults as they approach the building, but ultimately don't understand what all that vitriol means. This was partly because there was no way in hell I was writing an actual flyting, but also because I wanted to show off a bit of Loki's power over this space. It's his realm, after all.

(Fun fact: the descriptions of the mead hall and the forest from the previous scene were loosely based on the truly batshit amount of time I spent playing Valheim.)

This encounter with Loki was actually the first thing I wrote that took place in the Void - I think it was around the same time that I wrote the dream in chapter 3. I wanted to show that Loki is someone to be feared, someone who by his very nature is crafty and powerful and terrifying... and I also wanted to show why that doesn't make him evil by more directly stating his intentions. This is the scene where the Thieves actually get an answer to why Loki is helping them and Goro - because he cares about Goro.

Which sounds like a simple answer - of course the source of Goro's persona cares about him - but it's not. One of the things that trickster figures are known for is defying expectations. The expectation for a god living separate from humans in the Void would be that they don't have particularly strong feelings for them one way or another. We see this in the previous scene when the Thieves encounter Odin, who was once Akira's persona - he acknowledges that connection, but still plans to trick them.

From the moment Loki captured Goro and then gave Akira the Crow app, he was defying his place in the cycle. Loki cannot change his own fate, but he can change theirs - that's what a trickster does. Similarly, Akira also defies expectations when he tells Loki that he wants him to be himself - Loki, who is meant to be a shapeshifter, who is meant to bring destruction by his very nature, is being told that that's okay. After all, Akira loves Goro just the way he is. Why wouldn't he do the same for Loki?

Plus, I just really wanted to make Loki sexy as hell in this scene. I mean Look At Him.

Jörmungandr

His appearance is brief and not as important as others, but there two important bits to take away from this. One, that Akira continues to empathize with Loki and his children where the Thieves are still frightened (this is more just to keep on theme). And two, that Jörmungandr is free - he's not biting his own tail and encircling the world, another sign that Ragnarök has begun.

Fimbulwinter and Ragnarök

So obviously there's a lot going on here. I wasn't pulling directly from any story here, just the general themes: Fimbulwinter is the harsh and unforgiving winter that precedes Ragnarök and puts an end to all life on Earth. Ragnarök itself is then characterized by the great battle in which many of the Æsir die, after which the world burns and is then completely submerged underwater. Only then can the world rise again and the cycle can continue.

An interesting note: While the Thieves battle Ragnarök Loki, the form that Goro's shadow takes, they never actually enter the part of this realm that is Ragnarök. They remain in Fimbulwinter because that's where Goro was being held - because Loki had to keep him far enough in to be safe, but didn't want to put him in the place where Loki himself is doomed to repeat his own death over and over again. It's another example of Loki's strange brand of kindness.

I'm actually pretty happy with how Shadow Loki turned out. The idea that Goro had to face his own shadow was one I took from P4, which a friend was streaming for me and a few others at the time I was writing this. Of course, in P4 it's about accepting a part of yourself you don't want to acknowledge or come to terms with, and that's not really the case for Goro. I think he knows exactly who he is - he's told both Yusuke and Haru outright that he doesn't regret what he's done. For him, facing his shadow is about proving that isn't all that he is - that he is more than the smiling prince and the bloodied assassin and the unwanted child.

And of course, the reason his shadow takes the form of a sort of amalgamation of Loki and his own Black Mask outfit is because Loki is the source of all that. He's the one who gave Goro the power to kill, and Goro used that power without restraint. Goro stepped willingly into the same cycle of violence that Loki has always known, and in this scene, he's finally breaking free of it.

After the fight, we finally get Loki explaining to Goro in his own words why he's done all this. It's slightly different from what he told Akira in the mead hall - to Akira, he admits that he cares for Goro, whereas to Goro himself he says he wants Goro to live because "one of us should." Both answers are correct, but I think the second one is more true to how Loki sees himself and how he sees Goro. Loki is limited by his nature as a god to never change, to always be both an agent and victim of fate, but Goro isn't. And rather than attempt to change himself using the so-called "leeway" afforded to tricksters, Loki uses that power to give Goro the life he himself can never have.

And finally, we have the moment where Goro gives the treasure he took from his shadow to Loki. As Akira learns later in the epilogue, this is a hair pin that belonged to Goro's mother, which he would use to hold a blanket in place around his shoulders when he pretended to be a hero. That he would give such an item to Loki - something he lost years ago after his mother's death, something he will never see again in reality - and thank him for lending him the power to survive as long as he did is, I think, really telling of their connection to each other. In a way, it's almost a challenge, even a threat - Goro is telling Loki not to forget him and what they stood for, no matter how many times he repeats the cycle. He's taking his own stance on the idea that Loki can never change, and that stance is "Try harder then."

And maybe he can. Or maybe he can't. One of the things that I really wanted to explore in this fic is the idea of how a persona and its user overlap with the stories that persona comes from, and Loki and Goro are a great example of this. Two characters bound by fate, doomed to die by their respective narratives. Of course they found each other. And of course Goro would never be happy with the idea of a part of his soul being controlled by outside forces. Whether or not Loki can really change, though, is up to interpretation.

In Conclusion

idk I just think he's neat. Which one of them am I talking about? Yes. If you read all of that nonsense, you're my hero.

And just for fun...

I actually did write an entire move set for Ragnarök Loki, even though it was completely unnecessary. Figured I'd include it here for anyone wondering just how tough a fight that would be!

Ragnarök Loki (2 actions/turn)

Call of Chaos - Boost self's attack but drop defense for 3 turns. Laevateinn - Colossal Physical damage to 1 foe. Megidolaon - Severe Almighty damage to all foes. Concentrate - Multiply user’s next magical attack damage by 2.5. Sigyn’s Burden - Inflict Despair (high odds) to 1 foe. Hel’s Retribution - Decrease ATK/DEF/AGI for all foes for 3 turns. Jörmungandr’s Venom - Medium chance of instantly killing all foes. Fenrir’s Hunger - Heavy Nuclear damage to 1 foe. Medium chance to inflict Hunger. Fimbulwinter - Severe Ice damage to all foes. Ragnarök - Severe Fire damage to all foes and inflict Fear (high odds)