#still have a lot to learn but it's a start

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Another year has passed, and with it the opportunity to reflect back on all that has happened. While my growth was not as dramatic as last year, I can still see lots of positive change.

I'll never have enough ways to say thank you for all the love and support you have given me this year. On to 2025!

(2023 summary here!)

[papaya-twinks]

a kids’ fairytale - l.n

Warnings: single!father, single!mother, swearing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex, anxiety, picking nails/skin

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Having a child so young hadn’t exactly been Lando’s idea of a fairytale, but what happened next, well, more suited to his kind of story ✨

Having a child so young hadn’t been Lando’s idea of a fairy tale dream.

Lando had been 20 at the time - young and reckless. Too reckless.

A night of drinks and rowdiness, ending up with his girlfriend, who was also 20, pregnant with a child she didn’t want - and child she was angry at Lando for having put in her.

And as much as he pleaded and begged her to stay once his little baby girl was born - she wouldn’t.

In her words, she didn’t want to live with Lando from mistakes he had made.

And that hurt him. A hell of a lot more than he’d like to admit.

Because he loved his little girl, a hell of a lot more than that bimbo who’d walked out on him.

And besides, little Honey looked so much like Lando, you wouldn’t have even guessed there was another person involved if biology didn’t exist.

She had his gorgeous, chocolate brown ringlets, shimmering green eyes, and a heart of gold.

Just like her father.

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Now you, on the other hand. A similar story, but inverted. A father who didn’t care so much for you or your child, and mistakes when you were 19.

That left you and your poor boy, Alec, to fend for yourself.

But you worked hard, you weren’t the kind of person to wallow in mistakes you’d made when you were younger, and you’d worked.

You’d worked for so long, trying your best to provide food for your child, and soon enough, a promotion for your dedication catapulted you to the success that brought your child happiness.

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“You excited, baby?” Lando smiled, kneeling down in front of his daughter.

Honey nodded gleefully, her eyes bright and shining as her father squeezed her hand.

Since she was born, Lando had made it his mission to give her the upbringing any and every child deserved, and he tried his best to fill in the place of a mother as best he could.

And so, he’d spent hours when she was only two, sitting In his room for ages past midnight brushing the head of a mannequin, and learning how to braid.

And he was never prouder, as he looked at the beautiful girl that was his daughter, her hair tied in pigtails he has tied, with little bows on the end, just like she’d asked for.

“Daddy, I’m gonna make so many friends!” she squealed, clutching at his hand.

“Never been surer,” he said, gently rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Everyone’s gonna like you, beans,”.

He’d conveniently put a hoodie and an oversized coat on, enough to cover up his identity so the attention wasn’t taken away from his daughter’s first day at school.

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“Mama, what if no one wants to be friends with me?” Alec said, chewing on his nails.

“Hey, hey,” you scolded, “none of that now,”.

“Don’t be silly, baby, everyone’s gonna wanna be your friend, won’t they?

“Mama, I’m not sure,” he said, still picking and chewing at the skin around his nails.

You gently took his smaller hand in your, giving it a squeezers you looked into his scared, puppy-looking eyes.

“Baby, I promise you, it’s gonna be fine, okay?” you said, examining the little cut on his finger where he’d picked off the skin.

Half the time, you were tempted to put his baby mittens back on to keep him from doing this.

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The walk to school was a quiet, yet comfortable silence.

You were hand in hand with your little boy, his backpack slung over your shoulder.

“I spy, with my little eye…” he looked around, his eyes flickering from place to place.

You’d decided that maybe playing a game would distract him from the nerves of starting at this school and ease the little cogs working in the back of his mind.

“…something beginning with…G!”.

“Hmmm,” you said, playing along, “garbage can!” you said, looking around.

“Nuh-uh, Mama, try again!”.

“Gate…Glasses….Girraffe!” you laughed as he squeezed at your hand! laughing as much as you were.

“No mama!” Alec laughed, “there’s not a giraffe anywhere!”

“Maybe there is….no what was it, then?”.

“Girl!” he pointed at a brunette girl in the distance, who looked equally as shy as him, holding her father’s hand.

Interesting.

You usually didn’t see fathers dropping their kids off to school or anything….

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Lando was standing anxiously in line, painfully aware of the whispers between the other parents, particularly the mothers.

The only other fathers had at least another woman with them, and god, he hated gender stereotypes.

“Daddy, that boy’s pointing at us,” Honey said, tugging on his hand.

“Hm?” Lando hummed, snapping out of his thoughts and following his daughter’s gaze.

She was right, there was indeed a very timid looking at them.

And hand-in-hand with a woman, a very pretty one at that.

Like every new parent, it was his first time doing all…this…parent stuff.

Lando didn’t know whether to be concerned or just ignore it, and regard it as kids being kids…but it was definitely slightly odd.

“Daddy, do we say hi?” Honey whispered as Lando knelt down, thinking for a second.

Meanwhile, you were desperately trying to make Alec put his damn hand down and stop pointing at poor strangers.

“Mama, they saw us,” Alec said, wide-eyed.

“Of course they did, you numpty,” you said, poking him on the nose, “you were pointing at them,”.

Alec pouted at the fact that he’d been ‘caught’, taking your hand as you followed him into the classroom.

“Alec, sweetie, it’s a line,” you said, slightly embarrassed as he walked cluelessly in front of the girl.

“Hey,” she said indignantly, tapping him on the shoulder.

Oh god.

“We were here first,” she said, her tone showing she was clearly not happy with the line cutting on your son’s behalf.

Lando looked just as embarrassed for his own daughter, a light red blush spilling from his cheeks all the way to his ears as he averted his gaze from you.

“Darling, c’mon, let’s not be rude-,” Lando started, his words going completely over Honey’s head.

“Go to the back,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Sorry,” Lando mouthed to you as you nodded, tugging slightly on Alec’s arm.

“C’mon, sweetie, she’s right, no pushing in,” you said, trying to encourage him to move.

But he was frozen still on the spot.

His eyes were wide, brimming with tears as Lando groaned, why did his daughter inherit his attitude as well?

“Honey!” Lando said, kneeling down, “you can’t make people cry!”.

She opened her mouth to bicker but Lando was having none of it, whispering to her as she pouted.

You’d managed to clean some of the spilled tears with your hands, calming him down as he sniffled.

“C’mon, now, no tears on your first day,” you cooed.

Lando looked sympathetic as he watched your cradle your son in your arms, and even Honey looked slightly guilty.

You reluctantly let Alec back down as the teacher let all the children down, not without him giving you a kiss on the cheek, taking his bag and walking slowly behind everyone else.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry-,” Lando started, in sync with you.

You both paused, before laughing, as Lando held his hand out for you to shake.

“I’m…Oscar and my daughter’s Honey,” he said, waiting for you to share your name.

He didn’t know why he had lied, much less why he’d chosen his teammates name, but hey, he’d rather you didn’t know he was famous.

“Y/N, and my one’s Alec,” you said, walking away from the class beside “Oscar”.

(A/N - I’ll refer to him still as Lando except in dialogue so it makes sense 😭)

“They’re tough little things to deal with, aren’t they?” Lando asked, digging his hands into his pockets.

“Tell me about it,” you laughed, your breath puffing in front of your face.

“Much harder when you’re a single parent.” Lando muttered under his breath as you looked up. “What was that?” you asked, cocking your head as he blushed again.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly, “didn’t mean to trauma dump,”.

“No, you said something about single parents,” you said, “you’re…a single parent as well?”.

“Yep,” he grimaced, before pausing.

“Wait, you are as well?” he asked, raising a brow as you nodded; was that so hard to believe.

“Oh, but I thought…nevermind,” he said, shaking his head quickly.

“No, c’mon, share with the class,” you smiled, purposefully adding the school-related pun to the mix as Lando laughed.

“Would’ve thought someone would’ve scooped you up by now, I mean…you’re quite…you know, forgive me for being forward,” he said bashfully, “you’re quite pretty,”.

“Oh,” you blushed, “well thank you very much,”.

“You’re quite good looking yourself,” you added as he laughed, smiling at your compliment.

“You know, I could swear I’ve seen your face somewhere,” you said out of the blue, his body going into alert mode.

No, absolutely not.

He was not about to fuck up this little chance with this very hot pretty and very kind mom by bringing up the fact he was a rich, famous F1 driver.

“No. Probably not,” Lando said, far too quickly, “I have, uh, one of those faces, y’know?”.

“You sure you aren’t famous or anything?” you teased.

“Famous? Uh, little ol’ me?” he laughed, trying to keep himself authentic, “not at all,”.

You just chuckled, digging your own hands into your pockets.

“Well, this is me, so,” you said, gesturing to the dingy little apartment as he nodded.

God forbid you ever saw his grand ass house.

“It was nice meeting you Y/N,” Lando nodded, giving you a wage as you smiled.

“You as well,”.

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As much as you told yourself that maybe you hadn’t seen Lando somewhere, and maybe your mind was playing on tricks on you, it just wouldn’t stop bugging you. 

He definitely wasn’t “one of those faces”. 

Not in the slightest. 

Which other person that you could possibly know could have such perfect, chocolate brown curls, such pretty olive green eyes, such perfect lips-

Hold. Up.

Since Alec had been born, you’d vowed never to go near another man like that, what the fuck? 

What the hell was going on? 

You weren’t some feeble little girl who relented to men who looked the slightest but attractive, not at all…what was this man doing to you? 

You didn’t want Lando to be another mistake.

Not like when you’d be younger and more innocent and more stupid.

But you didn’t have time to worry about who Lando was, if that was even his name, anyways, because Alec needed to be picked up.

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But on that walk to pick up your son, you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were being a bit too cautious.

He had said he was a single parent, so maybe he struggled as well.

You walked into the gates, shivering in the cold once again as you waited for the kids to come out, catching Lando’s eye as you did so.

You gave him a smile, hands buried deep into your packets as you shivered.

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Shit.

Why’s she not coming over? Has she found out who I am? Go,leave, anything but that…

The thoughts were rushing through Lando’s head as he took a breath, deciding to walk over. “Hey,” you smiled as he did so, nodding your head.

“Hi,” he said, “just thought I’d come over whilst we waited for the kids,” he nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, looking to the door. “So, Oscar,” you said, using the name he’d told you, “how’s your daughter been?”.

“Oh, Honey? She’s got an attitude on her, but she’s been an angel,” he gave you a nod, “and Alec?”

“I’m sure she has,” you smiled, “Alec’s more on the introvert side of things,”.

“Yeah,” Lando nodded, “I noticed,”.

“Take after his mother or what?” Lando asked, watching the steady stream of kids pour out, neither of yours in sight.

“Takes after me more than the father, thankfully,” you laughed, “Honey take after you or is she like her mother?” you asked, reflecting the question.

“Definitely in looks,” you added.

“Yeah, she looks a lot like me,” Lando smiled, “she’s taken my attitude as well, which is….yeah,” Lando chuckled.

“Damn, that’s a…change,” you said.

Lando looked up, letting out another laugh as you both watched Honey talking a lot, and Alec standing there and listening to her politely.

“At least they get on,” Lando pointed out as you nodded.

“Hey baby,” you knelt down, leaving Lando to talk to Honey, “how was school, hm?”.

“I made a friend,” Alec said, his eyes lighting up as Honey gave you a wave, making you smile.

This couldn’t have fallen into Lando’s favour this well.

“I saw,” you smiled, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Daddy, can me and Alec go to the park?” Honey asked as you and Lando nodded, walking with them to the nearby park.

“So,” Lando said, “they’re pretty close, i s’ppose,”.

“Right they are,” you said, your doubts as to who Lando was, long forgotten.

“I guess we’re gonna a have to have play dates at each other’s places, then,” you said coolly, watching the kids, missing the way Lando tensed.

“Yeah, yeah, maybe,” Lando said, “I’m doing some renovations at the moment,” he lied, “so I’m not really sure I’ll be able to have anyone round,”.

“Oh that”s fine,” you said, still determined to be suspicious, as you watched the kids play.

“You can bring Honey round mine, and maybe we can have some coffee like grown adults,” you laughed.

“Yeah…I hate coffee,” Lando said, scrunching his nose as you chuckled.

“Me too,” you smiled.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're struggling through your pregnancy, trying to stay calm as your worries about Bradley grow as quickly as the baby. Bradley wants to put his best foot forward at work, making himself available for office hours, but maybe he's made himself too accessible.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, smut, pregnancy topics, lactation kink, jealous

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley's new office was coming along nicely. Everything was standard issue Navy grade, but he started adding some touches here and there to make it look more personal. The file cabinet was covered in ultrasound photos, one column of Rosie and one of her younger sibling. 

He glanced at the wedding photo on his desk before adjusting it and wincing. You were still mad this morning that he overdid it at the Hard Deck last night, but he wished you would just let it go. It's not like he drove home drunk or anything. Nat and the guys were just excited to learn he was going to have another kid. The drinks just kept coming.

There was a knock on the door, and then Maverick poked his head inside. "You have a minute?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, waving him inside. "It's not like I can tell you no. You're my commanding officer, Mav."

The older man chuckled, setting some folders on the desk. "I need you to keep all of the forms updated for each of the pilots. It's best if you work on it every day and then update the hard copies. You should have time to do this between visits during your office hours."

Today was the first time Bradley was holding office hours, and honestly he felt a bit like a college professor: the aviators were kind of his students, and he was responsible for making sure they were prepared to fly.

"Not sure how busy my office hours will be," Bradley muttered. He should probably send a text to remind you he'd be home a little later than usual tonight. While he didn't want to make a habit of missing dinner with his girls, this was a far cry better than being deployed. 

"You might be surprised," Maverick replied with a smile as he backed toward the door. "You've got a lot to show the others, Lieutenant Commander."

Then he was gone, and Bradley could feel the warmth rising in his cheeks. He just wanted to prove himself, but the first time someone had him up against the wall, scrambling for an answer, he wasn't sure what he was going to do. He'd only started to advertise his extra hours during today's lecture, so it would probably be another week or so until someone came to him for any sort of guidance on a Monday evening. But he would try to be ready.

He was just opening one of the folders from Maverick when there was another knock on his door. This time when he looked up, he was met with a flight suit complete with a Golden Warriors patch identical to the one he wore. That would have been enough to let him know it was Indigo, but then he met her eyes as he stood up behind his desk.

"Lieutenant Jeffries," he greeted with a smile as she strode inside. "How can I help you?"

She studied his face with a knowing look for a few seconds before breaking out into a smile of her own. "Sir, I can think of so many ways you could help me. It's not even funny."

Bradley blinked, brow furrowed as he examined her. "Well, why don't you start with an easy one? It's been a long day. And something tells me you might be regretting the late start you got at the Hard Deck last night."

Her laughter filled the room. "I could never regret finding the officer hangout before the rest of my peers from Texas. I need to keep the edge I have over Rex and Spice." When she started to close the door, Bradley frowned.

"Keep it open," he said casually, reaching out to catch it before it shut. He didn't want anyone thinking he was playing favorites, and the little pout on Indigo's lips convinced him she wanted to be his favorite aviator. But she didn't argue. She simply sat down on the edge of the couch and looked up at him.

"The easiest way you can help me is by telling me where I can improve," she said, fingers toying with the zipper at her neck. "I want to be the best you've ever seen."

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You couldn't tell if Cat was actually annoyed with you or if she was just teasing, but you were too exhausted from a restless night to care.

"I can't believe Bradley told Jake you're pregnant before you told me yourself! I just saw you last night!"

Her gaze dipped down to your belly as you stood before her in the lab. You knew you were showing. There was no denying it now. You had a bunch of appointments coming up with Dr. Morris, and you were just going to keep getting bigger until you had to wear the maternity tent again. You knew you were already huge and that you'd probably never be your normal size ever again. And the last thing you wanted was Cat Coleman of all people scrutinizing your appearance when she always looked pristine.

Everything was made worse by Bradley's interactions with Indigo. She was everywhere on base, but now she had taken over your bar, too. You saw her this morning but managed to duck out of the way before those piercing eyes landed on you. She knew what you looked like now, and Cat's gaze lingering on your belly was doing nothing to give you a boost of confidence.

"Please make sure you're eating and drinking enough," she told you. "We don't want another repeat of Annapolis where you could barely give a presentation. Or a repeat of the day you fell at work."

You gritted your teeth. "This pregnancy doesn't even feel like my last one. Okay? I'm eating just fine. Too well, actually."

You turned on your heel, boot squeaking on the floor and headed out to collect Rose from daycare. Everything was just a reminder of your size right now. Visions of candy bars danced in your head as you told yourself you'd go home and eat a sensible dinner while Bradley held his office hours. But you already knew... you just knew Indigo would squeeze her way in there with her pretty eyes and her perky tits. And your husband seemed to be oblivious to her. At least you'd tried to convince yourself he wasn't actively looking. But you knew she found him attractive. You could smell it on her a mile away.

Tears filled your eyes as you approached the daycare facility. If he was looking at her, you couldn't blame him. Indigo was beautiful, her body stunning even in her flight suit. Meanwhile you looked like an exhausted, lumpy, khaki-covered potato with acne and zero energy.

"Let's go home," you whispered to Rose, trying to smile at the daycare staff as you pushed her out in her stroller.

You were absolutely fine. You were totally fine. Or at least you would be. Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

But all week long, you heard the same collection of call signs spilling from Bradley's lips, and Indigo's was always the first one. She was the fastest, most cunning, smartest, most decisive pilot he'd ever flown with. Any time you asked him a question about work, she was the answer. And he was late coming home almost every day.

"Hey, Sweetheart. Sorry, I had to stay in the infirmary with Spice after she strained her shoulder," he said, rushing inside on Friday night as you made dinner. "She couldn't even raise her arm to get her helmet off."

He kissed your cheek, letting his hand rest on your belly for a beat before he ended up on the floor next to Rose's play mat where she was trying her hardest to crawl to Tramp. As soon as Bradley showed up, she changed her mind and tried to get to him instead.

You pressed your lips together as you turned off the stove burner. "Did anyone else stay with you and Spice?"

"Yeah, Indigo hung out," he replied easily, brushing his fingers along Rose's hair with a smile. You swallowed hard, watching him on his hands and knees in his khaki uniform. He looked so good. Like ridiculously good. Broad shoulders and big biceps and a handsome smile.

"Why am I not surprised?" you muttered, turning away from him.

"I think they're friends," he said. "It's kind of amusing getting to experience the love and hate dynamics amongst the group. The women tend to stick together on the ground, but anything goes in the air."

Your stomach ached with hunger pangs, and the only thing you wanted to eat was ice cream. When you realized you'd eaten a frozen burrito barely an hour ago, you desperately wanted to go to bed hungry, but you started to feel guilty about the baby.

"My parents listed their house today," you announced, trying to change the subject before you started to cry.

"Did you hear that, Nugget?" Bradley scooped Rose up in his arms and carried her into the kitchen where you were plating two meals. "Your grandparents are moving here to spend more time with you. And next summer, we'll take you and your little brother or sister back to Virginia to see where ol' Goose and Carole used to live, okay?"

He peppered her face with kisses until she was giggling wildly, and every negative thought started to get fuzzy around the edges. When his brown eyes met yours, you nodded toward the table, and his arm slipped around your waist.

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

Bradley came home from his office hours on Monday to find you wearing only his old UVA shirt. The soft cotton was hugging your bump and showing off your legs, and he was ready to get on his knees and beg for you.

After he put Rose in her crib for the night, he met you in bed where you were wearing your glasses, your face freshly scrubbed. He was plainly getting hard in his gym shorts the more he looked at you. It was so obvious. When you stood on your knees and coaxed him closer with your finger, he met you there.

"I hope you know how good you have it, Roo," you whispered against his lips.

He knew. He knew all about it. He let his hand slide down over your belly, keeping you in place when you tried to scoot away. Then his fingers slowly yanked up the hem of his shirt until he was touching your pussy. 

"Of course I know it, Baby Girl." He circled your clit with his middle finger before slipping it inside you. "I've got my Rosie. And my hot, pregnant wife with her perfect pussy." When you whimpered, he kissed your nose. "I've got it all."

You dragged the shirt up over your belly and chest, tossing it aside. For a beat, Bradley went completely dizzy at the sight of your tits. Then you made everything better by placing your hands on your breasts, working them until beads of milk appeared. Your head was tipped back, pussy squeezing his middle finger, and Bradley almost lost his mind.

His kisses were rough. He knew it. But you were whining Roo as he got undressed, and then you were guiding his lips to your tits. He had to have it dirty. His cock was so fucking hard, he needed to make you scream.

"Oh, fuck," he growled as his lips grazed your nipple, lapping up your milk until he thought he was going to pass out. Every inch of your body was so sweet and supple, but he wanted you babbling and begging.

Bradley meticulously cleaned you up until you were clinging onto him, then he pushed you onto your back. Without hesitation, he started fucking you. When you needed a hand over your mouth to keep from waking Rose, he was all too happy to help. When you spread your legs wider, he watched his cock glide inside your welcoming body over and over again until he felt his orgasm in his balls.

"Shit. I'm gonna cum," he groaned, waiting until you nodded against his palm to lose himself. Hips thrusting, filling you with shallow strokes, he fucked you until your pussy was dripping. He watched the mess he made dribble down your ass before catching it with his fingertips. "I swear I don't think I can keep my cock out of you long enough for you to not be pregnant ever again."

You snorted before reaching for his hand and bringing it to your lips. "After this one, I'm going right back on the pill. No more slip ups," you whispered. Bradley watched as your tongue darted out, licking his sticky cum and swallowing every drop.

"No more slip ups," he echoed, smiling at your belly. He'd never consider this a mistake. Not in a million years. A surprise? Absolutely. But not a mistake.

Bradley's phone lit up where it had been discarded on the floor when you slipped into the bathroom. He had a text from an unknown number with a Virginia area code. At first, he thought it might be his cousin Brenda letting him know she had a new phone number, but when he opened the message, his brow creased in confusion at first.

Lieutenant Commander, thanks for spending so much time with me today in your office today.

Only three people had been in his office with him earlier. One was Maverick. One was Forrest who he had to reprimand. The third was Indigo. Bradley hadn't been giving out this number, but it was readily available if anyone wanted to look through the registry in the lobby of the building where his small office was housed.

He scratched the rough stubble along his jaw, contemplating if he should respond after nine in the evening. He saved her number under her call sign and tossed his phone on the bed when you walked back in with a smile on your face. He should wait until the morning to respond if at all.

You yawned when he passed you. "I'm ready for bed, Roo."

"Give me a minute to brush my teeth, and I'm right behind you."

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

By the end of the week, your parents had two offers on the house where you were raised. They were officially downsizing to a cute bungalow a few streets over in Coronado, and you were excited. Or you wanted to be.

But every time you let your heart fill with happiness over your parents or the baby, you remembered that Indigo was texting your husband. You saw it for yourself. Right after he fucked you so good, you could barely walk, you glanced down at his phone on your bed. He had her number saved in his phone, and you wanted to cry.

You could ask him for permission to look at his phone. You could see what his reaction was. That would give you a good gauge of what exactly was going on between them. But Bradley had never once asked you to hand your phone over to him. He'd ever insinuated that there would be a reason he didn't trust you. 

Unsure what else to do, you sat in your office during your lunch break and cried. The tears were hot and miserable on your cheeks, and a headache instantly started brewing behind your eyes. It took you almost ten minutes to get yourself under control, and by then you didn't even feel like going to the cafeteria for food.

When someone knocked, you looked up at your door. Maybe it was Bradley. Maybe you could get his phone from him somehow and check it yourself. "Come in," you called, voice soft from all the tears you'd shed. Instead of your husband, Jake strolled inside. "Did you get lost? Cat's probably in the lab."

"Aww, come on, Angel," he drawled, dropping down into your extra chair. "I came all the way up here to see you."

"Oh." You were a little surprised. Everyone was so busy as the last quarter of the year was beginning, you felt like you hadn't seen much of him.

"Why do you look so sad?" he asked, already leaning forward to stand again. "Want me to grab you and the baby something to eat and bring it up here?"

"No," you told him quickly. "I'm fine. Just a little stressed." You tried to smile, but you felt like you could cry again. "Are you having a slow day?"

"Nah." He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest. "Just had to get away from your annoying husband and his band of misfits clogging up the comms with their exercises."

"Band of misfits?" you asked with a soft laugh.

"Bunch of children," he replied with an eye roll. "Look like they just graduated from high school." His eyes went wide. "Oh shit, that probably means I look old now."

"You don't look too bad for someone older than me," you promised with a smirk. "Hey, do you know anything about any of those new pilots?"

"I know they like to hog the line in the cafeteria. One of them took the last slice of pizza yesterday, and I had to wait for a new pie to finish baking. Food should be based on seniority. I outrank all of them."

You were laughing at his smile now. "Hey, maybe I should get something to eat. And it might be nice to get out of my office for a few minutes."

"I'll walk you down." Jake stood and helped you to your feet. "Can't hang out too long though. Mav has a fire under his ass about getting Phoenix, Bob and I in the air this afternoon."

You headed to the cafeteria with Jake, getting a chance to hear his side of the wedding plans after listening to Cat for weeks. They wanted something small and simple, but he assured you there would be room for the Bradshaws on the guest list. Once you had a tray piled high with a salad, breadsticks and once slice of pizza, you took a seat while Jake headed back out to the tarmac to get back to work.

Your lunch tasted incredible. The cheese from the pizza was practically melting in your mouth. When the cafeteria started clearing out, there were only a few tables occupied, and you started stacking the plates on your tray. You could have a calm, reasonable conversation with your husband. He'd let you look at his phone, and everything would be fine.

"Okay, but what's up with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?"

Your eyes darted up from your tray to find two officers sitting a short distance away. The one facing you had a patch on her flight suit that said SPICE, and you recognized her call sign from conversations with Bradley.

"He's hot, but he's wearing a wedding band," she added.

You swore your heart stopped at her words. Then you realized that the woman with her back to you was Indigo. Her jet black hair was wound up in a tight bun that accentuated her long neck even from behind, and her laughter set your teeth on edge.

"I already told you," she said, and you had to stop breathing to make sure you heard every word. "His wife is a civvy. I saw her at the bar the only night he showed up. They have one kid, and apparently she's pregnant again. At least that's what I heard Lieutenant Trace saying."

"What does his wife look like?" Spice asked, casually taking a sip of her drink as if your world wasn't crumbling to pieces.

"It was hard to tell in the dark, but her face seemed okay. Nice-ish body, but come on..." Indigo gestured to herself. "The man's only human, and his wife is definitely older than me. That much is easy to tell. And she'll be huge again soon."

You tried to get up from your seat quickly, fighting with yourself to get out of the room, but it was too late. Both of them were standing now, still chatting as Indigo turned your way. As soon as her eyes landed on your face, you saw them widen. That pretty blue color looked terrifying as a smile of recognition spread across her lips.

Indigo absolutely knew who you were now. Her eyes dipped down to the hyphenated name pinned against your chest, and now she knew you weren't a random civilian. She knew you were an officer who worked on North Island. She knew way too much as she took in every inch of your body. And she looked really pleased by what she saw.

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

He has his sweet moments, but Roo doesn't see the bigger picture here. Next chapter will reveal if Rose is going to have a brother or a sister. Any guesses? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[flowersforthemachines]

Some facts about Lucanis (and also Spite and the Crows) gathered from the banters

I went through all companion banters on DanaDuchy's channel after playing the game to write down all facts about companions/the world that I haven't seen brought up anywhere in the game as a writing reference (and for funsies).

Note: the list isn't 100% exhaustive. I may have missed something or didn't write something down because I had heard about it before or considered it common knowledge. If you think there's something that can be added to the post, please DM me or send an ask! (do specify what banter the information is coming from)

Other characters' posts: Bellara, Davrin, Harding, the rest to be added later this week

About Lucanis: 

Family and the past:

Lucanis learnt to cook while helping the kitchen staff at the villa when he was a little boy. One of his motivations was learning how to make churros

Side note: Lucanis mentions that cioccolata calda was his favourite drink when he was a baby, and he serves churros to a romanced Rook who picks cioccolata calda as their favourite drink. It’s all coming together! 

Lucanis wanted to be a Crow when he was a child (at least most of the time)  

All of Lucanis's relatives were Crows as well, and all of them were killed by a rival Crow house

Lucanis says Caterina would be proud of Illario hiding his plans well, as well as killing her 

Lucanis says that the hard part about setting Illario free would be convincing Caterina 

Lucanis says that nightlife was more of Illario's thing, and he never got out as much

On Crows and Antiva:

Viago still stares daggers at Lucanis for throwing his (Viago's) pet snake out of the window in a dream

Lucanis doesn't like it when people confuse murder and assassination ("Murderers are hobbyists, we are professionals")

Lucanis has taken contracts in Orlais

Lucanis doesn’t know Treviso as well as he once used to 

Heir didn’t train Lucanis

Lucanis says he has never killed an innocent “by his count” (other people may disagree) 

Lucanis doesn’t think of the Crows as a “big organisation” (unlike the Inquisition) because they stab each other too much

Lucanis became a mage-killer at Caterina’s behest (she wanted to tap into new markets)

The nickname “The Demon of Vyrantium” came from Tevinter news-sheets, though Lucanis thinks Viago started it

Lucanis says that there aren't any special tricks to killing mages. Though, if nothing else works, you can try pissing them off, as that could attract a demon that would eat the mage

Lucanis once killed half a dozen venatori while stuck inside an elevator 

Lucanis doesn’t consider himself a gentleman assassin, manners are less important than getting the job done

Lucanis sometimes spares his targets. He mentioned letting go of a servant who killed her master, as well as a 14-year-old boy. He thinks it’s wrong to kill people so young because they still have time to change

Lucanis doesn’t accept contracts without merit, and the merit is decided by the talon of the house

General:

Lucanis can make bread

Lucanis has never been to Ferelden

Lucanis isn’t interested in killing wyverns, just looking at them :)  

Lucanis has a pet snake 

Lucanis stays awake at night by cleaning his gear, exercising, studying Orlesian and knitting ("it’s just another kind of blade work") 

Lucanis doesn’t understand a lot of things people find attractive

(In a conversation with Harding) Thinking about cooking was one of the things that helped Lucanis stay sane in the Ossuary (the other was thinking about killing his enemies) 

(In a conversation with Davrin) Lucanis survived the Ossuary by shutting down and not thinking about anything except escaping

These two points sort of contradict each other. Either an inconsistency or Lucanis describing his experience differently to different people. 

The Wetlands ruined at least one pair of Lucanis’s boots

(If Rook chooses to save Treviso) Lucanis offers to pay for any supplies the Shadow Dragons may need 

Lucanis doesn't get a better bed because he's afraid of accidentally falling asleep 

Lucanis can identify the killer’s weapon and the height difference between them and the target just through the blood splatter left at the scene

Lucanis considers Grey Wardens dangerous 

Lucanis doesn’t like necromancy, because bringing people back to life is a waste of hard work

Lucanis finds the ice coffee from Minrathous offensive (Harding describes it as “snow, but made of coffee, sweet, and with cream and toffee sauce on top”)

Lucanis had never been in a romantic relationship before Rook/Neve

Relationships with other companions: 

Lucanis gets into reading Bellara’s serials (very passionately - they chat about it a bunch)

Lucanis is outraged that the Veil Jumpers don’t get paid for their work and offers Bellara his contract negotiator

Lucanis made biscuits for Assan

Lucanis is sceptical that the griffons will be safe with the Wardens

Lucanis think that Assan shouldn’t go soft (referring to the time he took care of a halla) because he is a predator at heart

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Lucanis offers to hold a funeral for Manfred

Lucanis and Harding talk a lot about dreams (mostly silly things like showing up naked for the job, getting chased by someone/something etc.)

Lucanis thinks Harding is deadly with her bow

Lucanis offers to pay Harding for being his lookout/aide at the rate of 6000 gold per contract

Lucanis offers the help of his contract negotiator to Neve after he finds out she doesn't have one

Lucanis made deep-fried peppers for Taash

About Spite: 

Emmrich can hear Spite even when he doesn’t take over Lucanis’s body (at least from a close distance)

Spite is impartial to Emmrich, believing him more than Lucanis

Emmrich says it’s impossible to separate Spite and Lucanis without killing them

Emmrich encourages Lucanis to read to Spite to bring them closer. Lucanis agrees to let Spite pick a book

(If Emmrich becomes a lich) Spite asks if he and Lucanis can get rid of their skin too 

(If Manfred is revived at the Necropolis) Spite asks Emmrich to teach him how to use fire magic. Lucanis isn’t thrilled by the idea

Emmrich sets up wards to prevent Spite from leaving the room when Lucanis is asleep

Spite no longer sleepwalks after “Inner Demons” because he apparently understood the concept of space

By the end of the game, Spite has agreed to stop sleepwalking completely

Spite controls the wings (confirmed in banter with Harding) 

Spite wants to try swinging off the astrolabe at the Lighthouse

Spite is very excited about Manfred having hands and feet (Curiosity. Has. Feet!)

Spite finds the wisps in Neve’s room unnerving (as do Lucanis and Neve)

Spite likes to play with whetstones Bellara got for Lucanis (Bellara got them from the Irelin who supposedly got them from somewhere in Arlathan) 

Spite wants to try eating self-lightning candles at Blackthorne Manor

About the Crows: 

Crows frequently visit Nevarra and have received 20 contacts to assassinate the king. The King has been poisoned 7 times

Crows get a lot of contracts for Divine Victoria

Some seers in Rivain are powerful enough that there are contracts on them as well

Caterina once killed a man with a thimble

When Crows kill someone, most of the time they want others to know it was them (rather than presenting the death as an accident) 

The crows buried six different Eight Talons and rarely take contracts in Ferelden after the Zevran fiasco

[plutoasteroids]

PAP/ Pac - Is this the year you meet your future spouse? Why or Why Not?

Top right to top left --- > Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3

Bottom Left to Bottom Right --- > Pile 4, Pile 5, Pile 6

This reading is allegedly for entertainment purposes only. I am not responsible for any choices made in relation to ANY of my readings!

This is just general if you want one specially for you and your energy, I have a paid readings list below!

Paid Readings List!

PILE 1

No, it's not the right time and there is till work that both you and your future spouse need to do before you both can meet and be together!

The biggest reason being money and career. There needs to be a change of career and a bigger sturdier income from both of you before that. Basically, you need to find the right career for you before it happens.

PILE 2

Congratulations you got a yes!

You have done all the necessary work and healing for you to be able to meet your future spouse. Both of you are at a place where you have done well for yourselves and it's time to let them into your life and it's time for you to enter their life.

PILE 3

Yes! Congrats to youuu!

You are in a position in life financially and emotionally to allow another person i9nt your life without feeling like you owe them anything and without feeling like you need to settle or reduce yourself for another person.

PILE 4

Unfortunately, it's a definite no for you guys.

There is still a lot of learning that needs to be done for you Pile 4. There is still a need of self-exploration, learning about yourself and trying out new things to figure out what's best for you and where your place lies in this weird world.

PILE 5

It's a no for you guys, sorry.

You need to go through another awakening. You still have another tough time ahead of you before you can meet your future spouse. There is a need for you to develop thicker skin and be tougher before you can meet your future spouse. There is a big decision you need to make that will lead to this tough time which will prove necessary for you.

PILE 6

Yes for you!

You have gone through a lot of tough situations, and you have grown from it and came out stronger than ever. You may not have had the best start at life maybe dealing with toxic family but it's time for you to build your own happy home.

[livefromtheelephantsfoot]

I've had this sitting in my drafts for over a week bc I AGREE and I have SO many thoughts abt this.

I think one of the underlying reasons is a failure to engage with the fact that, to a lot of people at least, eugenics makes intuitive sense. I remember as a kid when I first had natural selection explained to me, and it didn't take much for me to wonder "huh, what does that mean for humans? does that mean it's a bad thing that we've insulated ourselves from stuff like disease?" (Obviously 8yo me wouldn't have said it like that, but I did wonder.) I'm almost afraid to point it out, but I really don't think it's just a me thing.

Later I learned abt Eugenics, that it was this bad evil thing that lead to genocide, and I was horrified. If I could empathize with the proponents of it, at least early on, what did that say about me? But it didn't actually answer my question. So now I had this first idea, evolution, that was obviously true and explained so much about the natural world, and this second idea that still seemed to naturally follow from it but was Bad. And I didn't know what to do with that.

And I started to notice how common the second idea was, too. The most pervasive thing I noticed was how common "Darwin Award" jokes are-- the joke, of course, being that people who die doing something stupid are making a positive contribution to the human gene pool. I don't really like those jokes. I ended up with the impression that eugenicists were right abt the human gene pool being a thing that we ought to be concerned about damaging, but they just went Too Far. You'll notice people who think this way disagree on where Too Far was. It made me uncomfortable that there could be an idea that was right, and if ignored would cause problems down the line, and at the same time acting on it was morally wrong, and everyone agreed it was a bad idea but only when called by a particular name--otherwise it's just common sense.

I don't think it was until high school that I started to understand that eugenics was, in fact, bad science. It makes sense with a surface level understanding of evolution, but the more in-depth you go, the more it falls apart. Artificial selection in dogs is such a great way to point this out. "It worked so well in dogs, why not try it in humans? Oh, wait..."

Eugenics requires the assumption that natural selection is at once a great and powerful force worthy of abandoning all morals in order to worship, while being so fragile that human civilization is at risk of overthrowing it within a couple hundred years.

Of course, the truth is that eugenicists weren't and aren't abandoning their real values in favor of what their understanding of natural selection would suggest. Eugenics was built on racism and ableism, and there is no escaping that. People latch on to ideas that validate their preexisting beliefs. You know what we can say, pretty confidently, about what's "healthy" genetically, for dog breeds and for humans? Variation. You'll notice that you don't see a lot of eugenicists advocating for interracial marriage. Even setting aside the (very important) ethical considerations for their methods, if eugenicists had their way, humanity would be barreling toward an artificial bottleneck that would REALLY fuck us over genetically.

Even that is missing nuance, though-- we're still in the realm of stick figure drawings. Genetics are really complicated. All this requires you to pretend that we fully understand what all of our genes even do, and we just don't. And that's ok! We do not, in fact, have to base public policy on whether G exists!

Natural selection is still happening to us, and if its slown down lately then I'd chalk that up to a global civilization mixing up our gene pool (which, again, is unambiguously a good thing from a genetic perspective) more than modern medicine helping disabled people have kids (which is not a new thing! we have been helping each other for millions of years). The human genome is not at risk of collapse.

We haven't even touched on poverty being a structural issue that requires people to exploit (ie, if all the poor people disappeared poverty wouldn't end, the next group up would be moved into their place) or the question of what mental health issues even ARE (I'm a proponent of the idea that, of the disorders/cases that are primarily caused by genetics, most are just the extreme ends of traits that are necessary to the general population and can't actually be removed-- extremely simplified example: everyone needs a sprinkle of neuroticism to function, sometimes someone gets a heavier dose and winds up with clinical anxiety, and every once and a while someone gets way too much and had OCD. even if environment weren't a factor at all, and even if anxiety were such a simplistic trait that we could track it with a very high degree of confidence, keeping the person with OCD from having kids wouldn't stop OCD from existing. they might be more likely to have kids with OCD, but them not having kids does nothing to the fact that OCD is a product of inherent variation that it would be a VERY bad idea to try to eliminate), or delving into IQ [even longer rant redacted].

I think sometimes people think eugenics is bad but its still true, like thinking that if people with certain traits have children it will change society for better or worse based upon what traits are promoted. I think its important to emphasize that eugenics is not only wrong morally it's also fake and stupid bullshit

Like eugenics was supposed to be based on the idea that "If it works with animals to select only the best ones to breed, why wouldn't it work with humans?"

well it doesn't work with animals, that's the thing. applying the eugenics ideas to domestic breeds of animals hasn't made better animals it's just made animals with more extreme expression of certain traits. turns out that when you decide which traits are the "best" and become obsessed with the genetic purity of the animals that have the "best" traits, you might well end up with some sad suffering creature like a Pug, or the Persian cats with the smashed faces that are in constant pain because their teeth and airways and brains are getting crushed by their skulls, or those meat chickens that grow so fast they can hardly even stand up after a few weeks old, or inbred race horses with tiny feet and fragile toothpick legs

like almost all traits are neither "good" or "bad" they're way more complex than that. a long tail or a long snout or a stubborn, independent personality can be good or bad depending on the situation. Who gets to decide what is a "good" trait or a "bad" trait? It's arbitrary and selecting for traits that are "good" in your opinion will often have both "good" and "bad" outcomes because the "good" and "bad" are part of each other and not separate its just part of being alive

Obviously oversimplifying everything but you get it. we did eugenics with dogs and how did that go? not very well

[rorysburrow]

Home Sweet Burrow

Pairing ➼ Joe Burrow x Reader

Summary ➼ Joe and you are on a mission to furnish your brand-new house, but what starts as a casual shopping trip turns into a full-blown adventure. Between Joe’s quirky opinions on throw pillows and your obsession with picking out the perfect coffee table, you both learn a lot about each other—and yourselves. The house may be new, but it's starting to feel like home.

Word Count ➼ 485

Warnings ➼ Just Fluff

A/N ➼ Hey guys this is my first post/one shot if you want to call it but I'm new and just getting started if you have any tips or suggestions please feel free to share. I also take requests.

The sun was setting over Cincinnati, casting a golden glow over the city as you and Joe strolled into the sleek, modern furniture store. Your new house—a beautiful, airy place with high ceilings and expansive windows—was nearly finished, but there was one problem: it was still completely empty. Except for a couch. Joe insisted on getting a big sectional sofa first, because, as he put it, “It’s gotta be comfortable for game days, right?”

“Alright,” You said, glancing at him as we walked through the sliding doors. “We’re on a mission. We need to make this place feel like a home, not a hotel lobby.”

Joe flashed a grin. “A hotel lobby would have a good minibar, though.”

“Focus, Joe,” you say laughing. “This is a house, not a suite.”

“I know, I know,” he teased, rubbing his chin. “But we should get a minibar. Just sayin’.”

Joe and you moved through the store, you found myself getting distracted by all the little details—vases, lamps, wall art. Meanwhile, Joe was making very serious decisions about the most random things. “What about this lamp?” he asked, holding up a funky, geometric piece that looked more like modern art than an actual light source.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? That looks like something you’d find in a sci-fi movie.”

He chuckled. “Exactly. It’s perfect.”

After much back-and-forth on the lamp situation (which ultimately ended in you picking something a little more traditional), then you and Joe ventured to the kitchen section. Joe’s face lit up as you looked at the wine glasses.

“We need a good set of these,” he said. “For...you know...celebrating stuff.”

“You mean, for after you win the next Super Bowl?” you teased.

“Exactly,” Joe grinned, pulling out a set of crystal glasses. “We’ll toast to that moment when it happens.”

Joe paused for a second, imagining it: Joe hoisting the Vince Lombardi Trophy above his head, Cincinnati going wild. It was a beautiful thought.

The shopping trip was a mix of seriousness and silliness—Joe testing out every recliner in the store, making you laugh by acting like he was auditioning for a role in a commercial. And you obsessing over the smallest things, like picking out the perfect throw pillows for the couch. It wasn’t just about the house; it was about making memories, finding y'alls rhythm in this new chapter.

By the time you were ready to check out, the cart was filled with everything you both needed—and some things you probably didn’t. You give Joe a pointed look as he placed a neon green throw blanket on top of the pile.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked skeptically.

Joe shrugged, that confident, carefree smile of his lighting up his face. “Look, every home needs a little bit of chaos.”

You have to admit, he was right. A little chaos made everything feel real, and that’s exactly what you both were building together. A real home.

[gallusrostromegalus]

11 and/or 42 for Zaraki?

Answered 42 already, so 11: If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

Many, many people have attempted to impersonate Zaraki Kenpachi.

Mostly ronin, criminals and other live-by-the-sword types trying to cash in on his reputation- Zaraki had a LOT of jobs while he was roaming the Rukongai, and his reputation as an inhumanly strong and bloodthirsty fighter was well known in the outer districts. So some idiot was always trying to get hired as a retainer or invited into a gang by trying to claim his identity- It's not hard. There aren't reliable photographs for most of his time out there, so he's only known as "Extremely tall, with long black hair and a large scar on his face, carrying an odachi and a small child". It works more often than not- the Rukongai is a very big place and Zaraki is but one man so it's not like a comparison can be made.

It's a scam that ONLY works at a distance though, for two reasons:

None of them hold a candle to the genuine article.

The first thing is the sheer weight of his reiatsu. The only people with anything even near that level of casual power output are a handful of Shinigami an a few actual Kami. Even those not blessed with Reiryoku can sense it- the air around him takes on a sharp, staticy quality that makes your hair stand on end as well as a heaviness that can make it hard to breathe, like an impending typhoon. Even among the Captains and Kami, nothing feels quite like he does- like the first gasp of air after breaking the surface when you were about to down and a battering ram to the chest at once.

People also consistently misjudge his intelligence and charm. One cannot feed oneself AND a small child on forage alone, and a too-fearsome reputation will get him banned from working anywhere. Hence, face-to-face Zaraki is unexpectedly disarming to talk to and agreeable company to stay with. Civilians are no good in a fight, but he took a name specifically because of how lonely he was, so he has learned the manners to rapidly ingratiate himself with any company. He's quick with a joke and tells a good tale or ten, and so at ease knowing there is no threat to him (or if there is, that it will be fun) that it puts those around him at ease as well. It's also hard to be frightened of the man after watching him lose an argument about not having candy for dinner to the most adorable little girl you've ever seen. Eventually, it gets around in the circles that hire such people that Zaraki is the best body guard you could possibly hire- Dedicated, Incorruptible and Ferociously protective- Especially of children, the most vulnerable charges.

Zaraki loves bodyguard work actually- All he has to do is keep at least one semi-functioning eye on Some Fucking Guy and the fights come to him! Fun fights too, like "An Entire Shinobi Sect At Once" or "Ancient And Revered Immortal Master Come Down From The Mountain" or "LMAO IDK But It's Got Tentacles And That's Always Fun".

His borderline disinterest in the client beyond their capacity as a fight magnet makes him remarkably immune to corruption- he doesn't want a bribe, he wants a battle! Neither does he want to attempt to leverage his position over a client- it straight-up never occurs to him that he could threaten the client. Why would he? They're not going to be any fun to fight??

After he starts raising Yachiru, his reputation becomes even more revered. Zaraki is a maniac, sure, but he is a maniac who *is good with children, and there is no safer place for a child than "within arm's reach of Zaraki", so Yachiru grows up with Princesses for playmates. It's very hard for most men of the sword to impersonate someone who is as at home on the field of battle as he is playing teatime with a toddler. Few try, none succeed for long.

...But even after he becomes captain, people still try to impersonate him. The most common ruse is someone in a remote district pretending to be a Captain On Official Gotei-13 Business to the residents as part of some con to attain money or power. Sometimes, a particularly bod criminal will pretend to be A Captain to the people in the C46 or Noble house to scam benefits out of the ruling powers. This happens to every captain, and it ends in catastrophe every time but it is an ESPECIALLY bad idea to impersonate Zaraki because:

2. Zaraki is very aware that people try to impersonate him, and is very eager to meet himself.

The first time Zaraki heard of someone using his name he was bewildered and offended and tracked the sonofabitch down, and then had a Jolly Good Time kicking his ass. The second time he heard of someone claiming his identity, he sought them out a little more calmly this time and had ANOTHER jolly good time kicking their asses. So the THIRD time, and every time since, the news that someone is attempting to pretend to be him makes Zaraki cackle with glee and vanish for a week or so (with his daughter and lieutenants in tow, if not the whole damn division), before turning back up with someone that's been wanted by the law for a decade or an entire Criminal Organization or suchlike under arrest.

In addition to being startlingly honest and cunning, Zaraki is extremely romantic, and since he is courting The Lady Unohana, he brings not a dozen roses, but instead presents the arrested Miscreants to the the Fourth Division Medical Corps as "Volunteer Organ Donors". One can hardly blame her for absconding with him for another week after.

...50/50 chance he, or anyone else in the 11th actually remembered to send someone to go tell Yamamoto where they were and what all that screaming and pleading for mercy in the general direction of the hospital is.

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 23 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

“What’s with this traffic jam? It’s really backed up.” Jinwoo asked, his voice breaking the lull as he drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. As the car inched forward at an agonizingly slow pace, he muttered something about taking the subway, eyes scanning the congested road ahead, a faint crease of irritation forming on his brow.

You glanced up from your musings, your elbow propped on the car door, chin resting in your palm. Your eyes were fixed on the distance, far past the endless rows of brake lights ahead—almost indifferent, as if the raving engines and honking vehicles just outside were nothing more than background noise.

“Maybe a gate popped up in the middle of the road?”

Jinwoo turned his head to you, giving you an incredulous look. His sharp stare lingered until you caught it out of the corner of your eye, remaining unfazed. “What?”

Before Jinwoo could respond, his phone buzzed to life, the name on the screen flashed: Chairman Go Gun-hee.. He answered, listened intently to the voice on the other end, and replied as necessary. The situation was, in fact, just as you had guessed—a gate had indeed materialized, right in the middle of the highway too, hence the massive traffic disruption.

After the call ended, Jinwoo turned back to you with a similar expression as before. The hint of amused resignation was new though.

“What?” you repeated, your voice carrying that deliberately lackluster touch of feigning innocence.

This time, instead of being interrupted in a timely-good manner, his silence was broken by a soft chuckle as he leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed, as did the uptilt of his lips, despite the urgency of the situation.

After a beat, that easy smile was directed towards you. “You gonna come with?”

You tilted your head slightly, mimicking his casual demeanor but with an air of mockery that was all your own. “Depends. Let’s see what the system has to say.”

“So, not a no?” Jinwoo’s tone took a turn as he leaned closer, leaving no other way for you but to meet his eyes, his grin just as daring.

Perhaps reflex played a role when you raised your hand and planted it against his face before he could get too close, gently pushing him back with just enough pressure to send a clear message: Don’t push your luck. Jinwoo showed little resistance, the twinkle of mirth in the backdrop of grey peeking between your fingers unmistakable.

You dismissed how you could distinctly feel his mouth move as he played along with your antics. How the soft brushes of lips felt on the border of your palm and wrist, teetering so close to where one could feel vital signs through the skin.

“Shut up,” you grinned back, and the following vibrations on your hand, mimicking the act of chuckling, told you more than enough.

It was good to know that he was now comfortable enough around you to be like this.

“I’ll do a quick detour for our emergency preparation,” you added, finally pulling your hand back and breaking eye contact. Your gaze shifted out the window as if searching for something unseen. “I have a feeling it’s going to rain.”

Jinwoo raised a brow, stealing a glance at the sky through the windshield. The sun shone unobstructed, the horizon was clear, with no sign of rain clouds in sight. Still, he’d learned by now that your ‘feelings’ were rarely wrong.

Cryptic words and double meanings, he just had to figure them out—figure you out.

The game both of you had been playing since the very start.

How thrilling.

Jinwoo hummed, opting for another question, though it was one he already had a pretty good guess on the answer. His smile never left. “How many backups have you planned, really?”

“A lot.” —a simplistic answer that was just so you, flashing him a sweet smile of your own.

With that, your form began to shimmer, your edges dissolving into myriads of lights, the chimes of your butterflies filling the air.

Through the mirror of his iris, the beautiful fragments swirled. Jinwoo closed his eyes briefly as the luminous insects flitted past his face, bringing forth passing warmth against the skin.

“You go on ahead,”

When he opened them again, only a single butterfly remained where you once sat, its iridescent wings fluttering softly. It went to perch on his instinctively half-outstretched hand, and Jinwoo brought it closer, feeling the faint, ticklish brush of its wings on his lips.

I’ll find my way to you.

The butterfly dissolved into nothingness, yet he knew it was keeping him company, always, despite its lack of visibility.

He was not alone, not anymore.

Jinwoo leaned back in his seat, raking a hand through his hair as the corner of his mouth curved into a grin, lingering all the way as he made his way to the gate’s location.

If he had truly looked at himself in the rearview mirror at this moment, would the faint color of his cheeks and the creeping warmth had only been the effect of the rosy-hued sky and the golden glow of the setting sun?

Jinwoo muttered under his breath, though there was no mistaking the fondness in his every little action then.

“What a difficult woman.”

---

Jinwoo stood amidst the wild greens of the foliage; the air as ominous as ever if not more. The oppressive heat and humidity were immediately followed by the torrential downpour. The thick jungle surrounding him, water cascading down the leaves and pooling into muddy streams, and the dense magical energy crackling in the air all pointed to one thing.

“You know…” Jinwoo said to no one, his tone as flat as it was dry, despite him literally soaked from head to toe. “However I see it, this feels like a red gate.”

“I told you so,” your voice rang out light, and Jinwoo looked up to see you hovering in the air, donning your usual raid ensemble, your form bathed in faint iridescent white glow. The rain parted around you and the butterflies flitted, refracting light in a way that made Jinwoo feel like he was witnessing a scene from one of those vibrant stained-glass windows.

Divine—that word again.

Soft chimes mixing harmoniously with the rhythm of harsh pitter-patter. Despite his enhanced physique, the falling rain still dug uncomfortably into his skin, under the layer of wet fabric. But even so, he couldn’t look away.

As for you, for a moment, you entertained the idea of looking after a wet cat.

With a subtle motion of your hand, Jinwoo suddenly found himself enveloped in the same translucent glow and phantom warmth. The raindrops now bounced and slid off him harmlessly, though the protective barrier couldn’t undo the soaked clothes below.

“You’re a little late, don’t you think?” Jinwoo quipped, though there was no bite to his words.

Yeah—a sopping wet, fussy black cat.

“You seem fine enough,” you quipped back, starting to make your descent. “I’ll help you dry off once we’re out—shit!”

The next second, the world seemed to blur as the storm surged louder in your eardrums—a brief flicker caught Jinwoo’s attention before his instincts kicked in.

Time seemed to slow after—closer than either of you expected, stealing the air from your lungs, senses overwhelmed by proximity’s warmth. Dimly, you felt familiar, sturdy arms supporting you, and the scent of damp earth mixed with something distinctly him.

Déjà vu—and the disconcert of living through a cliché.

Chaotic fluttering, the butterflies’ notes twisted into a cacophony of delight, increasing in volume alongside heavy rain and thunder. Yet, all seem to blend into the background of mingling breaths, inches apart.

None spoke, eyes locked with another in a moment that felt stretched too long and too short all at once. Light danced in between, shadows fleeting across each other’s features.

Somewhere, amidst the cold shower and warm softness in his hold, Jinwoo felt a strange awareness settle within each heartbeat.

And then, the moment broke. The chimes quieted, and everything faded into the storm’s veil once more.

---

[A hunter is born to hunt.]

“So,” Jinwoo started, attention flicking between you and the battle up ahead. “you can teleport from outside now?” Intrigue flashed in his eyes, though his tone retained its usual calmness.

“…”

“(Name)?”

“…Yeah,” you finally replied. Distracted was an understatement of the nearly two decades you’d been thrown into this world. “The recent ascension automatically leveled up some skills. My teleportation works the same as before, but now it’s more… precise.”

“Precise?” Jinwoo’s brow arched in question.

“Mm-hmm. Visualizing the destination is no longer enough; I need to know the place like the back of my hand.” Your eyes followed a purple butterfly fluttering past his shoulders. “Being manually taxing is a recurring drawback to my powers, so I’m not too surprised. The good thing that came out of this is that there are less restrictions. Dungeons are basically another world altogether, but now I can go in and out even after the gates closed, granted I still have memory of the place and that nothing unusual happened. Still researching on that.”

“Bless my children, since I still need an ‘anchor’ for the first travel.” The butterfly joined the fray. “Under normal circumstances, they can travel on their own. But for traversing between realms? In case they’re not strong enough to withstand the force, they need to attach to someone who can cross to the other side. Once inside, that child can send me the specific ‘data’ via telepathy—the area’s distinct wavelength, for example.”

You made a light sweeping motion with your hand. “And voilà.”

A hunter’s foe isn’t limited to monsters.

Jinwoo hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield. He watched his soldiers press forward; their footwork precise even on the rain-slick, muddy ground. The flitting butterflies wove among them as usual, shimmering beacons boosting any soldier in close range and playing with their food the enemies. What was unusual was the flashes of forms far too humanlike to be his shadows.

Jinwoo narrowed his eyes, studying the contrasting figures. Their movements were seamless, as if rehearsed, covering each other’s blind spots. As chaotic as these fights could get, there was an unmistakable rhythm to them. A Danse Macabre brought to life.

“They can fight too?” Jinwoo asked, his voice tinged with slight awe.

Following his line of sight, you smiled faintly. “Yes. At first, it was the adults’ initiative. I’m fine with them as they are, but my darlings wanted to make the most of it now that they can maintain corporeal forms without the hassle of constantly using hallucinations.” You nodded toward the entities in question. “Their skills heavily depend on what I’m capable of myself, since they weren’t initially designed for direct combat, but…” You tilted your head toward the nearest skirmish. “What can I say? Adaptation is one of our mottos.”

[A hunter must take care not to become the hunted.]

Jinwoo followed your gesture and saw Igris, his long sword cleaving through enemies with practiced ease. Covering his back stood a familiar elegant figure, crimson strands in a braid and wielding dual rapiers. She was as pristinely suited as the first time she introduced herself. The tailcoat, patterned like her wings, followed her movements fluidly, making her seem like she was dancing.

Hup!

Light on her feet, she launched herself in the air and struck. The thrust precise and deep despite how delicately thin the blade looked, evident by the fountains of blood erupting from her staggering victims before Igris followed up with swift decapitations. With how calm she looked at times, her eyes were another level of intense, like an undying flame.

She landed with a bow and—did the raining blood just turn into showering petals?!

“You’ve already met Red,” you said casually, though Jinwoo detected a hint of pride. “My right hand.”

Gaze lingering on the pair, Jinwoo was unsure what was more baffling: the eerie theatrics or how seamlessly Red fought alongside Igris without a single word exchanged.

His attention shifted to another figure, starkly different in demeanor and a paler complexion.

On top of her head were triangular-shaped ears blending into straight snowy-white locks. The color contrasted sharply against the battlefield’s murky tones, as did her pale blue eyes. Seemingly a staple to your children who gained a more tangible form, the black and white attire she wore was adorned with fluffs from neck to boots.

The situation can always reverse,

“That’s Blanche.” You chuckled softly seeing the girl reflexively nuzzle into her thick scarf, only for droopy eyes to narrow, clearly displeased with the wetness clinging to her usual comfort. Even her long fluffy tail wasn’t spared, slumping dejectedly in response.

Peeking out from the tufts of her of sleeves were clawed hands of clear ice, at least twice a normal sized hand. That same hand tore straight through an adversary’s chest. As the beast dangled from her grip, she flicked them off with ease to swipe at another incoming attackers.

What was interesting to Jinwoo was how the minion sent flying looked stiff. Only when Tank caught them with his mouth did Jinwoo have his answer. The chilling crunch when the shadow munched on them, how pieces of the body cracked like glass and fell off with no sign of the usual dripping warm liquid, suggested that they were frozen solid. It was a frigid carnage.

“She’s dozing off.” Jinwoo noted dryly as Blanche retracted her claws and leaned onto the massive ice bear, sinking into his wispy black fur.

“Leave my baby alone. It’s nearing her hibernation hour anyway.” You cooed in the pair’s direction, seeing that Tank decided to not disturb Blanche’s nap and just sat there, munching away at the frozen enemies she left behind.

“And when exactly is that?”

“Almost all the time.”

Jinwoo didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or sigh at you.

“You’re spoiling her.”

“Blanche always got her job done before going to sleep, so I see no problem.” You trailed off.

[And it’s the mark of the first-rate hunter to avoid becoming complacent.]

Jinwoo chose not to comment further. He followed your wandering eyes toward a blonde figure next. Hair tied in ponytail, she wielded a massive shield with an ease that belied its size, using it to batter enemies in a manner that seemed more recreational than necessary.

“There are two of them now.” Jinwoo deadpanned.

True to his words, it was quite a sight.

Iron was, unsurprisingly, doing what Iron did best: slamming down the blunt end of his battle axe on what appeared to be an enemy, a pretty much dead one. The blonde woman, with eyes resembling the sun, mimicked his actions with her shield and an almost childlike glee. The two were taking turns in smashing the unfortunate foe until it was simply unrecognizable.

“That’s Sol,” you said, sweatdropping. “She’s, well, energetic.”

Jinwoo sighed, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“I can see that.”

“…Sol’s a good child.” You continued with a wry smile. “Just a curious spirit most of the time.”

“Right. And she follows Iron around because…?”

“She finds him amusing.”

“That sounds even worse somehow.”

You could only offer a helpless shrug.

The next child Jinwoo noticed was perched comfortably on Tusk’s shoulder, nonchalantly swinging her legs and humming a tune. Turquoise eyes glowed against dark bronze canvas, various runes of the same bluish-green circling her, and a tome floated by her side. Her hair was a striking red, blue, and the occasional hints of white and purple, shifting hues with every movement like a living aurora. Her ears were long and the tips pointed, Jinwoo noted.

Whether you hunt tens, or even hundreds, of monsters,

“That’s Neonie.” you introduced. “Abilitiy-wise, think of her as a living magical artifact.”

Each motion of the her fingers brought forth circles of magic, materializing across the battlefield. Glittering mist flowed out, a blanket of cloud around the High Orc Shaman and magic unit below, amplifying spells’ firepower, restoring mana, and decreasing casting cooldowns in a near constant cycle. Some smaller magic circles stationed strategically around the fog-affected areas automatically shot projectiles to melee foes closing in on the mages.

Jinwoo was squinting at this point. Mist aside, the output of spells back-to-back were blinding enough.

“Can we adjust the brightness?”

“Sure! When you managed to control your first instinct to not glare at my sorceress every time you see her, we’ll talk.”

“Huh?”

“Oh please, I saw how your face scrunched up seconds ago. I already made Baruka’s remains a stat boost for your dagger, give the guy a break.”

You rolled your eyes, though the twitch on your lips betrayed you when he made a face again.

A strong gust of wind swept past, ruffling your hairs and prompting you and Jinwoo to glance upward. Kaisel soared overhead, his massive wings stretching over the rain-drenched jungle below, cutting through the winds. Trailing close behind was what seemed like a flurry of butterflies in a weird formation, a blur of royal blue.

You whistled and the cluster halted in its flight, only then did Jinwoo could get a proper look at the silhouette. The most attention-grabbing feature was the pair of wings, flapping in brief intermissions to keep the bearer afloat. They weren’t the delicate blue and black structures patterned on her uniform; instead, there were layers of translucent feathers, matching the end of her trench coat. She had rich blue eyes; dark brown strands framed her face in a bun.

[You must hunt ceaselessly.]

“Jinwoo, meet Gale.” The aforementioned bowed to Jinwoo. “The best flyer of my butterflies.”

“And also,” Jinwoo barely had time to process this before his sharp ears caught a distinct metallic clack from above. His gaze snapped back to Gale—was that a minigun?!

“Our aerial support—”

“Everyone duck!”

The assault began, the shots ripped through the ranks of enemies below. Jinwoo’s caught another detail then: like the briefest projection, the feathers spread wide dispersed light in a way that momentarily resembled the intricate patterns of a butterfly. They flared, and from the 'eyes', beams of light shot downward, incinerating adversaries that got caught in its line, leaving charred remnants in her wake.

As the dust began to settle, Jinwoo quickly noted that his soldiers and your children remained unharmed, courtesy of Tusk’s and Neonie’s protective barrier that had shielded the allied forces nearest to the blasts. Iron and Sol too, raised their shield to protect the others nearest to them.

“…and sniper—”

BOOM!

Yeah, no.

The resulting shockwave left Jinwoo’s hair slightly disheveled, and he noted with some amusement that yours wasn’t spared either.

That was a fucking missile.

Again, none of his shadows nor your butterflies had been harmed. Gale’s actions might seem reckless, but, as far-fetched as it sounded, the attacks were isolated in a way, suggesting some level of careful handling and not just reckless abandon.

“I…” You looked dumbfounded if anything, mouth parting a little bit, and Jinwoo found it cute. At least that reaction was enough of a confirmation for him: you didn’t, in fact, planned that, not to this degree at the very least. Jinwoo reckoned Gale took some liberties, and it was just good bad timing on your part. “…I’ll speak to Gale on toning it down.”

“Good call.” Jinwoo chuckled.

You cleared your throat, a strange look of avoidance passed through your expression. “Well, that’s all of them that are present anyway”.

Even when you said that, Jinwoo’s gaze drifted past you, landing on the peculiar silver-haired figure standing still under the rain. She seemed wholly engrossed in her own world, her face tilted upward to let the water trail over her features. Her expression painstakingly crafted to exude pensiveness, it was as if she were playing out a dramatic scene in some high-budget movie—you know, where a character’s thoughts were spoken aloud by outside voice? Minus the pile of corpses beneath her heels of course.

“What is she doing?” Jinwoo finally asked, his tone edged with skepticism, finding it very hard not to be openly judgmental this time. Your lips twitched, unsure whether to laugh away the embarrassment like a maniac or dig yourself a hole and simply die with it.

[As that unknown presence does too.]

The King has no plan to stop his hunt—"Ouch!”

The woman in question abruptly yelped in pain and doubled over. Her hands flying to the top of her head where an angry red bump had formed. Her face scrunched up into a teary expression as yellowish-orange orbs turned to the crimson-haired figure now looming over her.

“What in Mother’s name was that for, Sist-AH! Ow…” Trick’s indignant protest was cut short as another sharp smack landed squarely on her head, resulting comically in a bump on the previous bump. Red stared down at her younger sibling, arms crossed, twin rapiers momentarily sheathed by her hips.

“Stop monologuing.” Despite how flatly the delivery was, each word was emphasized with a progressively terrifying glare that could have frozen a lesser soul.

Poor Trick got the heebie-jeebies. The adult silver butterfly pouted and whined, still clutching her head as she pointed to the air where intricate golden-white screen glitched to life. “They started it!”

[ :D ]

The red butterfly could care less.

“Get. To. Work,” With one last warning look, Red turned her back without waiting for a response. She strode back toward Igris, who had paused mid-swing to glance in her direction. The shadow knight tilted his head slightly, a silent inquiry.

Red’s expression softened in an instant, throwing her rapier to stab the battered magical beast, formerly twitching hand about to grab the shadow knight’s leg while he was distracted, now laid as limp as it was dead. “I’m alright, Sir Igris. Thank you. Let’s continue,” Her tone gentle and respectful. Igris gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before they resumed their rhythm.

Meanwhile, you pressed your fingers to your temple, trying to stave off the impending migraine while watching Trick sulking nearby at the slightest possible prospect of the older butterfly ignoring her. She shot a glare toward the hovering interface.

“(ಥ﹏ಥ) …Traitor.”

[ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ]

“Just ignore her.” You sighed, already too tired to deal with this today.

As if to prove your point, Beru chose that exact moment to land near with a thud that sent a wave of muddy water splashing in all directions, including Trick’s, who let out a hiss like a bristling feline. The former ant king let out some clicking noises.

“What are you doing?”

“Nun-ya.”

“What?”

“Nun-ya business.”

“Yeah,” Jinwoo followed your lead and turned away at the sparks practically flying between the two summons. “Let’s. Ignore them.”

Unfortunately for the several totem-masked monsters who thought they could take advantage of the apparent distraction, lunging toward the insect pair, they unknowingly only hastened their doom. With a snap of Trick’s fingers, the attackers froze mid-charge, consumed by sheer terror as they clutched at invisible wounds. It was borderline terrifying how convinced they were that they had already been slashed to pieces, only for Beru to tear through them for real a fraction of a second later.

“Kekeke. First to 30 wins?” Beru’s multifaceted eyes had a competitive glint in them aside from the bloodlust.

Trick shot back with an eerily wide grin, showcasing inhumanely sharp canines hidden below her usual mischievous smile.

“Now we’re talking!”

Gunshot pierced through a few masked foes in groups. The twin guns disappeared from slender hands just as fast as they appeared at the start of a different moveset from the humming butterfly.

An up wave of her hands was followed by several foes cut vertically from the bottom—

“One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.”

Up, down, cross, side, up…!

—and the rest was as follows.

Only after the motions slowed down did the rain and blood shine light to the glinting threads wrapped around Trick’s fingers into various directions, including the beasts that got shot at the start, limp bodies serving as effective anchors.

Trick turned around, hands now on her hips and sticking out her tongue, only to yelp when she saw a body thrown in her direction. Reflexively cutting it in half with her threads revealed the sight of Beru’s smug look not far off, already done with his fair share of enemies.

���Watch it, you—”

 “kEKEKEKEKE!”

“That girl sure knows how to hold a grudge.”

“The pot calling the kettle black. Beru also indulged her too much.”

You and Jinwoo locked eyes in a silent battle of wills for a few seconds before bursting into laughter.

As the laughter died down and the two forces tore into the enemy ranks, that strange feeling from the very first start of this battle settled in you again—the sense of being out of place. Should you feel weirded out that you could only bring yourself to comment on it now?

“Jinwoo.”

“Hmm?”

“Put me down,” you said bluntly, your tone carefully devoid of emotion as you tried to school your expression despite the steady warmth creeping up your neck. And your back. And the back of your thighs—whatever parts of your body that were touching Jinwoo’s right now!

“…”

“…Please?”

“No.”

This man! He purposely waited for you to do that only to reject you, didn’t he?

Jinwoo looked at you with a maddeningly fake smile of innocence, his tone leaving no room for debate. His arms around you didn’t loosen; if anything, they tightened when you started wriggling around, successfully securing you in place.

Sure, it was not the first time he had done this. At the end of your second trip to the demon castle, Jinwoo only let your feet touch the ground after the two of you arrived at the hospital, where you could just sit and rest safely as he tended to his mother. You admit that you were exhausted, very well out of your mind, and thus you were thankful to him—back then.

This is different!

“I can walk on my own—”

“Nope.”

…What a mean man.

From the moment your children had somehow hijacked your landing to now, Jinwoo had been carrying you in classic bridal style, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Oh, you could feel his muscles—and you almost leaned closer in an attempt to hide your growing fluster.

You don’t even know where to put your hands. Sure, you wrapped your arms around him, once, to steady yourself right after you fell into his arms—God, that sounds so cheesy. Right now, though, you were awkwardly fiddling with your fingers on your lap. This dilemma came to a much quicker end than the ongoing mental gymnastics in your mind when Jinwoo started walking, where you instinctively held onto his shoulder, simultaneously giving up on the matter of being carried like some damsel in distress until who knew when.

Even as the path ahead cleared—his shadow soldiers bowing deeply on either side and your butterflies fluttering like honor guards—Jinwoo showed no intention of putting you down. And you have to admit, there was undeniable comfort in the way he held you, grounding and unwavering just like his presence.

You almost forgot that you were inside a dungeon.

When did you start being this comfortable around Jinwoo?

Was it before meeting Norma Selner, the very first-time trust between you felt balanced in scale? Was it while on your first trip to the demon castle, when you brought yourself to hold his hand to calm him in what otherwise would be a precarious situation? Or was it further back?

How romantic!

Isn’t this basically ‘walking down the aisle’?

Mother—

You winced as the telepathic chatter from your children filled your mind, their voices buzzing with excitement and a variety of commentaries.

Love?

To a man who deserved everything and more? When you couldn’t even be sure of your place in this world, how could you do that to him? To the man who [̴]̷[̵]̶[̵]̶[̴]̴[̷]̵ you?

…?

Jinwoo [̸̦̄́̈́]̶̲̭͐̂̕[̸̭̄͘]̴̼͖̌͒̽[̵̲̝͂]̷̘͂͊͒[̵̙̦̬̒̈́̽]̸̥̈́͆[̶̙͊]̸̨͎͎̏ you.

???

[̴̨͚̥̤͖̣͍̱̥̥̃̽̂͂́̕]̷̞͋̀̍̆[̸̥̀̊̀]̴͍̑̇[̸̺̬̲͉̯̱̭̥̖͔͊̉̓]̸̧̡̛̳̰̬͉̰̗̮͙̄[̴̺̳̮͇͕̩̌̅͜]̴̢̥̭̮̩͉̜̼̽́͠[̶͚̓͂̃̿̇̃̀͝͝]̶̡̨̰̙͔͚̀͜ͅ—!

W-What is…my memories—

“-me)…(Name)!”

You jolted. For a few moments, the only thing you could see was grey.

“I knew it, you’re—”

“I’m fine, Jinwoo. And stop making that face.”

“What—”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

“Oi—”

Before he could let out another syllable, you circled your arms around him and buried your face on his shoulder. You were well-aware of how his muscles tensed then, how his breath hitched when yours warmed his neck, and how he shivered when you played with his hair at the base with your fingers. It was a sly move on your part, to distract him like this.

How far can I go? What a dangerous thought.

It was impossible not to notice the signs, how confusing they all were.

It might have been a stretch to assume, might even be delusional, but unless it was normal behavior of this time and age to kiss the back of another’s hand—other than family’s—you doubted you read the situation too far in that case. The gesture might be normal occurrences for affectionate people, and you wouldn’t claim to know how Jinwoo would be if he had someone who truly accompanied him on his journey, step by step. What you did know was that Jinwoo showed that he cared, less with words, more through actions.

So, what did his actions so far told you?

For a lone wolf such as he, Jinwoo had been quite... tactile. You doubted he would be to just anyone.

Comfort, maybe?

Which led to the next question: you no longer fit in the category of ‘just anyone’ to him, weren’t you? After all, it was one of the many possibilities you had entertained, especially when he didn’t leave you much of a choice but to stay close.

Trust?

“…” You pursed your lips.

Or something else?

Y̸̦̖͓͛o̵͕̦͎͆̃ụ̶͎̗̒̈́ ̴̻̩̳̏ d̶̩̉i̸͓̭͒̕d̴͙͑̍ň̶̝͍͠'̶̧̙̍t̴̹̓ ̸͓͍̎̎ŕ̴̲̩͕̅͋e̴͔̾m̷̦̞͗e̴̢̥̗͑̔m̵͖̳̄b̴͈͎͋̌e̵̡͔̜̍̅̈́r̶̨̳̜̂̉͑ ̶̘̒͘i̶̡̖͘̚f̴̺̳̎̀ ̶͍͍͔̐̏́ý̵͍̳͐͝ò̸̦͇͑̀u̷̧͌ e̶̜͓͗̕v̵̬͈̱̀̃̌ḛ̸̛͋͘r̴̺̀̋ ̷̛͙͕̻̑͆h̶͇̻͛̕å̸͙͖̭͒d̵͕̮̃ ̴̰̒̍a̷̻̘͌̂ ̸̹̔͑͜ͅl̴͙̈́ô̶̹̣̼v̴̘̪̄̂e̵̡̓͘͝ṟ̴̽́̏ ̴̺̌̑̐b̵̫͕̦̄̇e̴͔̅̀͐f̶̰̍o̷̩̐͝r̷̘̥̒̔e̶͚̦͒.̸̪̝̉͊͝

You were a fan of Jinwoo, yes, just one of the many, and a hopeless romantic to boot, considering the amount of romance genres you consumed in your free time up till now. It was a good thing if he actually found some comfort in you, God knew this man deserved more, so you didn’t really mind the hand-holding, hugging, and overall proximity. If you were being honest, every time he sought you out, it never failed to make you feel giddy—too giddy.

It was hard to turn a blind eye to the changes.

How could you describe this? Feverish, fuzzy, and your stomach did the thing? It felt too textbook copy-paste—everything was—which was fitting, considering your situation. But, simply ‘feeling’ it was not enough. What an excuse that was, when there was not yet definitive evidence to support your claims. Would you stoop that low?

In any case, you were threading onto treacherous grounds.

But—

You tightened your hold on Jinwoo, hiding yourself from the world.

System, can I afford to indulge myself?

[ … ]

“Enjoying yourself?” Jinwoo asked, and while you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he had to be smirking.

Look who’s talking. That question could apply to him too.

You mumbled something incoherent into his shoulder, and Jinwoo tilted his head, his smile widening. “What was that?”

You didn’t feel like gracing him with the answer he wanted this time. Instead, you nuzzled further into him, your head bumping against his chin from below, and your lips inches away from his Adam’s apple.

Just as you predicted again, Jinwoo shut his mouth pretty quick.

Revenge sure tasted sweet, but you decided that you would spare him some mercy. After all, you were still thankful for the distraction he provided, knowingly or not.

A small smile bloomed against his shoulder.

For all your children’s teasing, a small part of you couldn’t help but agree: this moment, despite every absurdity that surrounded it, was undeniably romantic.

Just this once.

Behind the curtain of the rainy dungeon, you just hoped this wouldn’t become a habit.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [30/11/2024] -

Dear [Trial Player]'s Readers,

Happy New Year! 🎉

First, I’d like to apologize for not posting this chapter on New Year's Eve as planned. Time was tighter than I expected, and honestly, this chapter could have been better. My apologies for that. If you have any questions, feedbacks, & comments, feel free to send them here or send in an ask—I may be slow, but I’ll do my best to respond as soon as I can! ❤️

With this chapter, we’ve officially reached the end of Season 1 of the Manhwa. Huzzah! 🎊

This chapter is a whirlwind, I admit. There’s a lot happening, such as: new revelations, developments, and information; foreshadowing and scattered implications; and official introductions to several new characters—the mysterious [???], also known as the [Children of 'Trial Player']! I have used these twenty-ish chapters so far to 'set up the stage', all will be revealed in the events of Season 2 of the Manhwa, so stay tuned! 🦋✨️

I’ll be returning to college for exams starting on January 6th, which will keep me busy for about three weeks. As such, there won’t be any major updates to this story until late January or early February. In the meantime, I’ll try to answer the asks you all have already sent to my inbox. Thank you so much for your patience and for showing interest in this work—I truly appreciate it. I apologize for the late responds in advance. 🙏

Thank you for all your support so far, everyone! 💖

[roseyodditea]

Hell of a View - Lighter x gn!Reader

Summary -> 1.1k words. It's not a competition on who finds the better view... right? (Lighter wins)

Warnings -> None

A/N -> One day I'll actually proofread. Today is not that day

“You’re still not relaxing,” you tease, peering past the sunglasses to see eyes roll. The man in front of you places down his coffee cup, looking past you to the river.

“I’m not good at relaxing.” Lighter’s gruff voice was soft in the evening air of Lumina Square, the atmosphere of the upstairs area of the coffee shop rather relaxing. The lanterns on the hotpot restaurant balcony lent their warm light onto the patio, the gentle breeze coming off the river bringing fresh air, and the quiet lull of the dwindling foot traffic beneath the patio was so serene. A sharp contrast to Lighter’s aggressive spiked leather jacket, tattered scarf, and steely gaze looking at you over the sunglasses he still had on.

“Yeah, but you’re not really trying.” You lightly scold. “All day you’ve been like this. Grouchy and huffy.” “‘Huffy”?” He questions, his sunglasses sliding down his nose, his confused expression rather cute. 

You sip your own coffee and get up out of your chair, crossing the patio. “C’mere. Come see.” You beckon the man over, turning to look at the tall buildings across the river, smiling softly as you feel Lighter’s presence stop right behind you. “How can you not relax seeing a view like that?”

Lighter looks between you and the cityscape. “Easily. Watch.” He gestures to himself in a poor attempt of dry humor. “See? Not relaxed.” “Okay, smartass,” you huff, a little bit disappointed in how today went. Caesar had messaged you early this morning, asking you to watch after Lighter for today. ’Make sure he actually takes a day off!’. A simple ask, one you thought would be easy, but all day he hadn’t been taking a break, he had been your glorified body guard. You took him to Random Play to pick out a movie, but Belle and Wise were busy with a commission Lighter almost volunteered for. You took him to the arcade, only to watch him get frustrated after losing so many games. You took him shopping in Lumina Square but he spent the entire time watching the people around you two, making sure to position himself in a protective stance whenever he thought someone looked at you the wrong way. 

Lighter could feel the tension in the silence. While you were deep in your thoughts, he took in the details of your body language he had been learning to decode. He could see the way your eyebrows knitted together, how your fingers began to pick at your cuticles, how you shifted your weight between your feet, uncomfortable with this situation. He let out a sigh, knowing this was his fault. “Thank you.”

You snap out of your thoughts, catching a glimpse of genuine gratitude in his eyes. “What?” “For today. Thank you.” He says again, looking back over the water. “I know I’m not the best company in the city. I know you were just trying to help me have a good day, and I’m glad you did. I… enjoy your company.” “I enjoy your company too,” you start, but don’t get to finish.

“‘But’?”

You let out a scoff, “but I didn’t do a real good job. Even if you do like spending time with me. This entire day you’ve just been so tense.” Lighter stepped close, dropping his voice. “There’s so many people in New Eridu. There’s more people in this square alone than within thirty miles of Blazewood. It’s not your fault I’m not comfortable in crowded areas.” You feel stupid the second he says it, groaning as you hide your face in your hands. “Oh my god I should have thought about that.”

Lighter’s laugh only makes you feel worse. “Oh it’s alright. Here… let me make it up to you.”

You don’t have much time to react before he guides you down the stairs and over to a parking lot where his motorcycle was parked. “Where are we going?” Lighter slings his legs over the bike and gestures for you to climb up behind him. “To see a real view.” You don’t question it, getting on behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, holding on as he begins to ride down the streets of New Eridu. You tremble as the cityscape flashes by, the fear of being on the back of the motorcycle causing you to grip on even tighter. The sun had set entirely as you left the city, Lighter driving faster, taking enjoyment in the fearful sounds that got lost in the wind. Right when you had gotten used to the feeling of the bike, Lighter came to a stop. 

He parks the bike and swings his leg back over it, holding his hand out so you could slide off the motorcycle. “Where are we?” “Somewhere that doesn’t have a name.” He answers simply and walks a bit further up the path with you following close behind. “Now close your eyes.” “Oh god I don’t know if I should trust you.” You joke and close your eyes anyway. 

“Good. I only came up here to kill you.” He jokes and leads you for a minute or two before he stops. You hear him step behind you, feeling his warmth with how closely he was standing. He adjusts you a bit and you can hear a smile in his voice as he speaks up again. “Open.”

The sight that greets you takes away every joke or comment you could have made. For miles the bare terrain of the Outer Ring stretched out, only to be broken up by the magnificent city scape on the horizon. Tall buildings stretched out with the spotlights to the clouds, blimps lazily drifting through the air, all framed by the brilliant stars that were hidden from the sky in the city. “Oh my god.”

“Now that’s a view you can’t be stressed looking at.” He murmurs, not wanting to disrupt the air too much. 

“I… wow… You got me beat.” He laughs softly, taking a deep breath of clean air. “Yeah, I do.” “You’re supposed to say something comforting here about how I didn’t ruin your day and how my plans weren’t that bad.”

“You didn’t ruin my day,” he shoves your shoulder playfully, “but this is much better than the view at the coffee shop, huh?”

You let out a happy noise. “A little bit.” A comfortable silence settling between the two of you, standing side by side, gazing out into the view of the city.

“Maybe Caesar was right. I did enjoy going on this date with you.”

The word ‘date’ snaps you out of the tranquil mindset you were in. “Wait, what?”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Unread Notifications: 

8 hours ago

{Caesar: “Lighter is on the way to meet up with you…”} 

Open to read more

8 hours ago

{Caesar: “Lighter is on the way to meet up with you. Btw I told him this is a date because you need that kind of excitement in your life. Have fun!”}

[skelotom]

So 2024 was kinda wild.

Below is the long-winded and sappy ramblings of a lich (me), so feel free to continue scrolling. I hope 2025 treats you well.

I didn't really start making art until March, but made nearly 200 renderings over the course of the year. I think I made maybe 10 total in 2023...so it is safe to say this year was more productive. I barely knew how to use blender at this time last year, I still barely know how to use it, but at least I know slightly more now.

Not every project was a wild success, I still have *a lot* to learn about making music. I also doubt my book will ever get published...but even just getting those projects done is a win.

I also met tons of people I never imagined I would talk to, let alone become friends with.

2024 hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows (I'll spare you specifics), but it is still miles better than my average year. I can't complain.

This year I will probably slow down with the renderings. But the posts I do make will be a bit longer. I like my longer form multi-frame comics and stories. I hope you do too.

I also have a day job that will start taking much more of my time. I really need to start studying/taking exams to get licensed as an architect. The six exams will suck. And studying will eat quite a lot of time. That will also suck.

Also shockingly, living a near completely sedentary lifestyle is not very healthy. I need to fit going to the gym into my life somewhere so I don't waste away completely. Being a skeleton irl is actually not very fun at all.

This year looks hectic, and kinda scary. Fascists are scary...But we'll get through it. Thanks for reading this far, and thank you for coming along for the ride.

Potential Projects for 2025:

-Online store with prints, buttons, and stickers

-Erin finally learns grease pencil in blender

-More short stories and comics

-Another attempted book? one that might actually get published? (more on this later)

-????

[aishangotome]

Azel Radwan: Dramatic Ending Epilogue

Dramatic Ending Ch. 25 His Side Story

Thank you @passthechloroform for providing the video for this chapter!

♡———♡

Tanzanite, with its god gone, did not change overnight.

People still revered Azel, and the markets were lined with commemorative coins and statues of him.

But to say that nothing had changed would also be untrue.

Before, every three steps you took in the city would lead you to a divination shop, but now their numbers had dwindled.

Instead, you could stumble upon bookstores, which had been impossible to find before, no matter how much you wandered around.

(Just as the letter said…)

(Tanzanite now presents a golden opportunity for booksellers to expand their market.)

*flashback*

Akatsuki: You want to do business in Tanzanite?

Emma: Yes. I thought that if we open a sales channel now, we might be able to establish a Tanzanite branch eventually.

Emma: Wouldn’t it be easier for the Owner, who travels to every country on the continent, to operate with several bases?

Akatsuki: …That makes sense.

Emma: Right? Actually, it seems Tanzanite is making a national effort to attract booksellers…

Emma: I think it’s a good opportunity to make a lot of money.

Akatsuki: Do you want to go?

Emma: If you’ll allow it.

Akatsuki: I’ll allow the business.

Emma: …!

Akatsuki: But, I won’t allow any unhealthy relationships before marriage.

Emma: Wh-What do you mean?

Akatsuki: Your objective is the dead god.

Akatsuki: He even sends you letters every time. How unsightly.

Emma: …Then, would you allow a healthy relationship?

Akatsuki: …

Akatsuki: If anything happens to you, I’ll kill that god.

*flashback over*

(I can’t tell the Owner about that night, not even if my mouth is torn apart.)

Just remembering it made me blush, and I shook my head as if to dispel those thoughts.

My objective today was market research –– to assess the demand and see what kind of books were needed. That was my job.

(Huh? There’s a crowd over there.)

(It doesn’t seem to be related to bookstores, but this is also part of market research.)

(I might be able to learn about the current trends in Tanzanite, so let’s go.)

I never imagined that my casual decision to join the crowd out of curiosity would ––

––lead to a tragedy later on.

-

Azel: …And?

Emma: …It was a soap shop.

Emma: They sell soap made by a famous perfumer, and it seems to have a reputation for smelling very good.

Emma: I thought I’d like to try it too… so I reached for it.

Azel: There must have been other selling points besides it smelling good.

Emma: ………… That it can captivate the person you’re interested in.

Azel: Sigh… Why do you fall for such obvious traps?

Emma: Because I wouldn’t think something like that would be sold openly in the city!

(This sense of déjà vu… I remember this.)

When I used the soap I bought at the market in the bath, my body started to feel strange by the time I got out.

The enchantingly pleasant scent gradually induced a feverish heat, making my skin unbearably sensitive.

The mere rubbing of my negligee against my skin made my stomach tingle strangely, and my heart pounded like a drum.

I felt like I could faint from shame at any moment.

Azel: Listen, Tanzanite is famous for its songs, dances, and harem.

Azel: It’s not uncommon for people from the harem to sell shady goods in the city to earn some extra money.

Emma: …I didn’t know that.

Azel: Think of “captivating the person you’re interested in” as a catchphrase for aphrodisiacs. It was a good lesson, wasn’t it?

(I never thought I’d experience this feeling again.)

The effects of this aphrodisiac seemed to be even stronger than the perfume mixed with the aphrodisiac ingredients from last time, and if I let my guard down, indecent sounds would escape my lips.

(…I want to cry…)

Azel: Hey, don't make that face like you're about to cry.

Azel: The quickest way to get rid of an aphrodisiac is–

*flashback*

Azel: In reality, an aphrodisiac will naturally leave your system with time.

Azel: All you can do is sleep or distract yourself, those are your two options.

*flashback over*

(I’ll just hide in the kitchen like last time, that’s what I’ll do.)

(I can’t let Azel see my unsightly behavior.)

In the middle of his lecture, I turned my back on him and reached for the door as if to escape.

Azel: Where are you going?

Emma: To cook.

Azel: Huh?

Emma: I’m going to cool my head, so please don’t mind me and go to sleep, Prince Azel.

Emma: Good night!

-

Emma: …Why are you following me!?

Azel: …I’m not following you. I’m thirsty.

Azel, who had followed me to the kitchen without a care in the world, poured water into a ceramic cup, just as he had said.

Even after taking a sip and wetting his throat, he showed no sign of leaving.

Azel: Do you want some too?

Emma: …

(Last time, you confined me here and left on your own.)

(…Thinking about it now, that was probably an act of mercy to prevent anyone from seeing my embarrassing behavior.)

(I’d like you to show me the same mercy this time…)

Azel: What is it? You’ve been staring at me.

Emma: You know what I want to say, right?

Azel: Not at all.

Emma: Leave me alone.

Azel: This is my castle.

Emma: Are you okay with being attacked by me?

I tried to push Azel out of the kitchen, but–

(H-He won’t budge…!)

He looked at me with a mixture of amusement and pity.

Azel: What are you doing?

Emma: You wicked god– Ah, no, you’re not a god anymore.

Emma: Um… Wicked person!

Azel: Congratulations on increasing your debt through insults.

Emma: …I understand. You don’t want tomorrow’s meal, then. It was going to be a special dish with meat.

Azel: If that’s what you wish, I’ll obediently return to my room. Goodbye.

(This tactic was the most effective after all.)

Azel briskly headed for the exit, but he turned around before leaving the kitchen.

Azel: However, you should know what an aphrodisiac is.

Azel: It’s actually easier to let it out than to endure it.

(…I know.)

My body, forcibly heated by the aphrodisiac, was aching to the point that I wanted to scratch it, and I unconsciously followed Azel's hand with my eyes.

(If I could just have his hand touch me…)

I slapped my cheeks with both hands as if to resist the temptation and shook my head.

Emma: Thank you for your concern. But I’m fine.

Azel: Why are you so stubborn?

Azel: We’ve already crossed the line.

Emma: …That’s true, but…

Emma: If you touch me like that night, I’ll probably become a mess.

Azel: It might be a good lesson.

Emma: …If Prince Azel were to hate me, I wouldn’t be able to recover.

Azel: Why would that happen?

(Because…)

Emma: You don’t have good memories of aphrodisiacs, do you?

*flashback*

Emma: In the first place, I’ve never used or even seen an aphrodisiac, so I don’t know what it’s like…

Azel: Huh? You’ve never seen one in your life?

Emma: Of course not!

Azel: There are people like that?

*flashback over*

(Because of his position as God, people around Azel-sama tried every trick in the book to get him interested in women.)

(I’ve never asked for details, but I’m sure he’s been tormented by unwanted aphrodisiacs.)

Azel: …Indeed, as you said, I’ve been through a lot with aphrodisiacs.

Azel: I have nothing but unpleasant memories of being forced to watch women lose control in front of me.

Emma: Then–

Azel: But you’re not…

Azel: …

Emma: …Prince Azel?

Azel: ..............

Azel: I hate being attacked.

Emma: I think anyone would.

Azel: That’s right. So I came up with a great idea.

(Huh, the atmosphere suddenly became ominous.)

Even though he was supposed to be heading outside, Azel came back to me for some reason.

When I casually tried to move away, he wrapped his arms around my waist.

Emma: Ah…

An unfamiliar sensation set my entire body ablaze with shame, and I reflexively pushed back against his chest.

But instead of moving away, Azel brought his lips to my ear and breathed a sigh.

Azel: It’s fine to attack before you’re attacked, like this.

Emma: That’s not good, not good at all… Mm!

My ear was nibbled, and indecent gasps melted into the kitchen air.

Emma: No… This really… won’t end well… so… Ah.

The hand that had been resting on my waist slid down and slipped between my legs, along with my negligee.

With just a light touch, my vision went white, and my body trembled as my strength gave out.

Azel: How could you say you were fine in this state?

Azel lifted me up as I collapsed on the floor.

Emma: …I could… evaporate from embarrassment right now…

Azel: If you haven’t evaporated yet, you’ll be fine.

Azel carried me outside and headed for his room with quick steps.

Even the wind that enveloped my body brought me slight pleasure, and I felt a sensation of honey dripping from my lower abdomen.

Emma: ………… Prince Azel.

Azel: It’s not unpleasant or uncomfortable.

Azel: …You’re different from other women.

Just as he said, Azel didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. In fact, his slightly unfocused gaze seemed to reveal his true feelings.

Azel: I can stop if you’re seriously against it.

(Honestly, I’m scared… but…)

(…If… Azel… doesn’t mind…)

I grabbed Azel's clothes and exhaled as if to release the intense heat within me.

Emma: …Touch… me… please…

-

As soon as we returned to the room, Azel stripped me of my negligee and sat me on the bed, embracing me from behind.

Emma: Gasp... Ah...

The mere act of his palm cupping my breast sent a jolt through my core, and when he pressed against my hardened nipple, my vision blurred to white.

Each time his lips grazed my ear, a sweet nectar overflowed in response, and my whole body trembled as his finger, coated with it, slipped inside me.

Even after all this, the aphrodisiac still lingered in my body, and my hips moved involuntarily, matching the rhythm of his finger swirling within me.

Emma: Nn... ...Aah...

Azel effortlessly supported me as I slumped against him, limp.

Azel: Are you alive?

Emma: Barely... alive...

Azel: That's good to hear.

Azel: Learn from this and never touch those "captivate your beloved" concoctions again.

Azel: Besides, even without using such things––

Azel: ...

Emma: ...Even without?

Azel: Why are you so focused on that part?

Emma: Nn...! Don't touch me th-there... aaah!

He hooked a finger around the sensitive swell, now slick with nectar, and another burst of wicked pleasure exploded from my core.

My breath hitched, hot and ragged, and my consciousness almost drifted off into a dream.

Azel: You make that kind of face too, huh?

Azel: ...I feel like I'm the one who's been ravished, even though I'm the one who attacked you.

(I'm... too scared to ask what kind of face I'm making... but...)

Azel's expression as he gazed at me was so alluring it made my heart ache.

That unexpected, worldly expression, so far removed from his usual sanctity—

Our eyes met, and our lips found each other as if drawn together by an invisible force.

(I've had enough of aphrodisiacs... )

(But if it means I can see that look on your face when you desire me... maybe it's not all bad.)

---

(Suspicious Solicitation)

※ This letter has been sent to all booksellers ※

In Tanzanite, a city overflowing with tourist attractions, bookstores are opening one after another.

With the decline of divination, once a symbolic industry of the nation, the demand for knowledge is on the rise.

Furthermore, the nation is currently offering generous support to foreign booksellers, allowing you to start your business immediately.

Tanzanite is now a dreamland where anyone with the skills of a bookseller can easily become a business owner – an opportunity no one in the trade would want to miss.

So, what do you think? It's piqued your interest, hasn't it? It would be a shame to let this big-money chance slip away.

We are currently offering passage to Tanzanite at a special price.

If you are interested in visiting, please contact us at the address below.

P.S. This letter has been sent to all booksellers. Don't try to investigate this offer with your colleagues out of suspicion.

Also, we don't particularly need you to come quickly, nor do we necessarily want a reply.

Don't misunderstand... Absolutely do not misunderstand.

Azel Radwan

--

FIN

.

.

.

IkePri Masterlist

[rafeskai]

First Game | Rafe Cameron

Summary: One day, you step into the unfamiliar world of Call of Duty, unsure of what to expect. As the chaos unfolds, a smooth, teasing voice cuts through the tension, offering guidance and unexpected camaraderie. What starts as a random match becomes something more, leaving you intrigued by the connection forged in the midst of gunfire and strategy.

Pairings: gamer!reader & gamer!rafe

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: Let me know if you guys like this concept and want more of it!

It was a late Friday night, the air crisp outside but warm inside your room as you settled in for your first-ever Call of Duty session. You had spent the last few weeks watching gameplay videos, trying to learn the ropes, but you knew tonight would be your real initiation into the world of multiplayer gaming. You weren't sure what to expect, but you were eager.

With your headset snug around your ears and your controller in hand, you queued up for a random match. As the loading screen began, a voice came through the headset.

"Yo, you new to this?" The voice was smooth, teasing, but also somehow welcoming.

You jumped slightly, not expecting someone to talk so soon. You had just barely gotten the game started, and you were still figuring out the controls.

"Uh... yeah," you admitted, not sure how to respond. "First time, actually."

"Nice, you're in for a ride," the voice chuckled, sounding amused. "I’m Rafe, by the way. And you are?"

"(Y/N)," you said, still adjusting your controller as the game finally loaded, your avatar popping into the map. "I’m hoping I don’t totally mess this up."

"No promises, but I'll try not to let you die too fast." Rafe’s laughter was infectious, and somehow, it made you feel more at ease. You were still figuring out the controls, but having someone to chat with helped take the edge off.

The match began, and instantly, you were thrown into the chaos of gunfire and explosions. Rafe’s voice came through again, guiding you.

"Alright, go left—watch your six!" he warned as you awkwardly navigated your character, trying to figure out how to aim and shoot without getting killed immediately. You managed to take cover behind a crate, heart racing as you peeked around.

“Got your back, just stay low.” His voice was steady, like he’d done this a thousand times.

You didn't need much guidance to know when things were going wrong, and in the next few moments, you found yourself at the mercy of an enemy soldier. But just as you were about to be gunned down, a shot rang out, taking the enemy out.

“Did you—?” you asked, astonished.

"Yep," Rafe replied casually. "Just wanted to make sure you didn’t get your first kill too easily."

Your heart skipped a beat, both for the adrenaline rush of surviving and for the way Rafe seemed to always be a step ahead. You were starting to get the hang of things, moving cautiously but with growing confidence.

Throughout the match, Rafe guided you like a pro, his voice always just a step ahead. You learned quickly—taking cover, timing your reloads, using the environment to your advantage—and before you knew it, you were a lot better than you had expected to be.

"Nice shot!" Rafe complimented you as you managed your first headshot, your fingers trembling in excitement as you took down an enemy from a distance.

“Thanks!” you grinned, surprised by how good it felt. “I actually got one?”

“Hell yeah, you did. You're not half-bad for a newbie,” he said, teasing, but there was a hint of admiration in his voice.

The match came to an end, with your team pulling off a narrow victory. The satisfaction of winning, even in your rookie status, was unmatched. As the post-game stats flashed across the screen, you couldn't help but feel proud of your performance, especially after Rafe’s guidance.

"First time playing and you’re already carrying the team," Rafe said, sounding impressed. "You sure you're a newbie?"

You laughed. "Totally. If you had seen me at the start, you’d know how lost I was."

“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.” Rafe’s tone softened, and you could hear a smile in his voice. "You sure you don’t wanna team up again sometime? Could show you some more tricks of the trade."

You hesitated, the idea of playing again with someone as skilled as him both exciting and intimidating. But then again, he’d already shown he was patient with you.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Maybe I can return the favor next time," you said, feeling more confident than you had when you first started the match.

“Deal,” Rafe replied, his voice smooth with that easy confidence. "Till next time, (Y/N)."

© 2025 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[rambrandt-the-painter]

I had a weird dream last night that the dragonkin were already a popular fantasy species before I started drawing them and its the closest thing I've had to a nightmare in a while hgfjfhf. The dragonkin are very derivative already but It still felt like having a piece of my ripped out of myself.

Like they're basically argonians mixed with kobolds but even if the design is pretty typical I still put a lot of love into the lore behind them already and suddenly learning that they weren't mine fucked me up

[transyonic-iv]

SUPER IMPORTANT imo ty @boytransmission ↓

(PLAINTEXT: under cut and in image description. )

I also think it's very important to remember to be covert about initial question about their flagging. while yeah, flagging does come w the understanding that you will be recognized, and yes, queer progression has gone very far at least in USAmerican culture where flagging tends to be most popular, it still is an implicit indicator of your sexuality due to vulnerability in openly disclosing.

I personally only ask ppl at first/in public/around others abt it in a way that does not imply explicit interest in playing w them specifically, and in very covert ways/not around ppl who may not respond well.

"I like your back pocket" (in a very uh, aesthetic admiration tone? though tone is something I struggle w w autism), and, "what does it mean for you?" are two phrases i use a lot, and so far it's worked well for me in acknowledging other ppl flagging while I'm at work (convenience store in fairly "liberal" USA area. yeah, not the most risky space, but im usually alone with customers, especially if later at night. dont want to put myself at risk if misreading their flagging, or if they are genuinely unaware of the flagging connotation as does happen sometimes, or make another person uncomfortable about being forced to tolerate inquisition of their sexuality while i "restrict" access to food or other purchases from them)

#ALWAYS ask! #If you're seeing someone wearing any color- but especially one in a larger range like green or yellow or blue- ASK! #Please! It is cool to be recognized and asked even if you don't wind up being into their response. Ask after any color though as some color #have different meanings depending* & not everyone distinguishes between color shades in certain groups (i usually see that w grey and red) #Also a personal gripe i've noticed- hunter green hankies (the cliche ones with paisley/etc) sold in hardware/military/etc stores #look very similar to kelly green. The green of a hanky named hunter looks in-between the chart's kelly and hunter #This can be true of many of the colors on this chart- people might wear their light blue as a teal- etc #*depending on what chart they look at online #So! Ask! Always! Get the conversation going! Start the negotiating! Learn something new! Whatever forever!

If you're struggling to find a New Year's resolution, consider learning hanky code and starting flagging

[theonottsbxtch]

PREACHER’S DAUGHTER FINAL PART | MV1

an: i bet you guys thought i forgot about this, i didn't. i just didn't want to say goodbye to them just yet because this is officially the end of our favourite couple. i'm defo going to miss them a lot and i hope you enjoyed them as much as i did.

wc: 3.6k

previous part

THE HOUSE WAS QUIETER than it used to be. It wasn’t silent—there was no such thing in a house with three kids, even if they were teenagers now—but the chaos had mellowed into a rhythm.

Theo, now eighteen, had shot up like a weed and was nearly as tall as Max. He spent most of his time tinkering in the garage with his dad, learning the ins and outs of engines and dreaming about rebuilding the motorbike Max had never fully let go of.

Mary-Ann, sixteen and the spitting image of her mother, had inherited her sass and determination. She was perched at the kitchen table, headphones on, doing homework—or pretending to, judging by the way she was doodling flowers in the margins of her notebook.

And Daniel, their youngest, now twelve, was sprawled on the living room floor with a pile of Legos, determined to construct the "coolest car ever" and occasionally asking Max for design advice. 

Max leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee. The years had been kind to him, though there was a little more grey in his beard and a few more lines around his eyes. He wore them well, a testament to a life lived fully.

His gaze drifted to his wife, who was standing at the stove flipping pancakes. She hummed under her breath, her hair tied up in a loose bun, a familiar warmth radiating from her. The sight of her, even after all these years, still made his heart skip a beat.

“Need a hand, angel?” he asked, setting his mug down.

She glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “I’ve got it. You just make sure Daniel doesn’t eat the syrup straight out of the bottle again.”

Max chuckled, ruffling Daniel’s hair as he walked past. “You hear that, buddy? No syrup until the pancakes are on the plate.”

Daniel groaned but nodded, his focus back on his Legos.

Once the pancakes were ready, the family gathered around the table, the smell of maple syrup and butter filling the room. Theo and Mary-Ann bickered over who got the last pancake until their mum intervened, splitting it in half with a raised brow that said don’t push your luck.

Max leaned back in his chair, watching his family with quiet contentment. They weren’t perfect—there were still squabbles, slammed doors, and the occasional teenage attitude—but they were his. They were hers. And they’d built this life together, brick by brick, from nothing.

Later that day, Max and Theo were in the garage, going over the specs of a carburetor Theo had salvaged from the junkyard.

“Think we can make it work?” Theo asked, his voice filled with the kind of excitement only an eighteen year old with a dream to take over his dad’s garage could muster.

Max grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. “We can make anything work if we put in the effort.”

Mary-Ann wandered in, rolling her eyes, hands glued to her phone - something Max realised she was doing more often. “Mum said you two need to stop talking about car parts long enough to eat lunch. Also, Daniel wants to know if he can use the drill.”

But Max chose peace and never mentioned it as he snorted “Absolutely not.”

Mary-Ann smirked. “I told him you’d say that.”

When dinner rolled around, Max watched as her phone lit up and she smiled. All of this had started innocently enough. Mary-Ann had come home from school, cheeks pink and a slight bounce in her step, and casually mentioned during dinner that a boy had asked her out on a date.

She might as well have set off a grenade.

Theo, who had been lazily poking at his mashed potatoes, froze mid-bite. His eyes snapped up to his sister with the kind of intensity usually reserved for critical engine failures. “I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel, sitting next to him, dropped his fork entirely. At twelve, he wasn’t entirely sure what “dating” entailed, but he knew enough to side with his older brother. “Nope. Not happening.”

Even Max, who had been chewing a piece of chicken, paused. He set down his knife and fork, leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms. “Who’s this kid?”

Mary-Ann groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my gosh, this is why I didn’t want to say anything!”

Her mum, sitting at the head of the table, was trying—and failing—not to laugh. She sipped her water to hide her grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Let the poor girl live, you three.”

But the boys were relentless.

Theo, the self-appointed enforcer, turned to Mary-Ann with a raised brow. “What’s his name? Is he in your grade? What’s his deal?”

Daniel piped up, his brows furrowed in a stern expression that would have been intimidating if he weren’t still twelve. “Does he know we’ve got a garage full of tools? And Dad has a hammer?”

Max nodded sagely, playing along. “Big hammer.”

Mary-Ann threw up her hands. “You guys are ridiculous! It’s just one date!”

Theo leaned forward, fixing her with a deadpan stare. “And that’s how it starts. First it’s one date, and then he’s calling you all the time, and then—”

“—he’s asking you to marry him!” Daniel chimed in, clearly pleased with his contribution.

Max smirked, glancing at his wife. “We’re just looking out for her, angel. Can’t have some punk kid messing with our Mary-Ann.”

She shook her head, laughing softly. “She’s sixteen, Max. Let her figure it out.”

Mary-Ann crossed her arms, glaring at her family. “You’re all the worst. Mum, do something!”

But her mum just shrugged, biting back another laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. You’re on your own. This is way too entertaining.”

Mary-Ann groaned, pushing back from the table. “I can’t believe you guys! I’m going to my room.”

As she stomped off, Theo called after her. “You’re not leaving this house until we meet him!”

Daniel added, “And I’m bringing the hammer!”

Max, unable to resist, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “BIG hammer!”

Her mum finally burst out laughing, shaking her head as she looked at her husband and sons. “You three are unbelievable.”

Max grinned, leaning back in his chair. “What can I say? We’re a protective bunch.”

Daniel puffed out his chest. “Yeah, Mum! We’re protecting her honour.”

She rolled her eyes, still smiling. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate it one day. Maybe.”

Max winked at her. “Just doing our duty, angel.”

And that day did roll around.

The atmosphere in the head teacher’s office was tense—at least, it was supposed to be. Theo sat in the chair next to his parents, arms crossed, chin jutting out defiantly like a boxer after a victory. His knuckles were still a little red, and there was a faint smudge of what could only be described as "evidence" on his school blazer.

The head teacher, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and a receding hairline, sighed heavily as he glanced over the disciplinary report in front of him. “Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen, I’ve called you here because your son, Theo, punched another student today. Quite hard, I might add.”

Mary-Ann, sitting to the side with her own chair, looked both embarrassed and secretly pleased as she avoided her brother's gaze.

Max sat back, trying—really trying—not to crack a smile. He’d been biting the inside of his cheek since they arrived, but the mental image of Theo landing the punch was too much. His lips twitched dangerously, and he coughed to cover the beginnings of a chuckle.

His wife shot him a sharp look. “Max.” Her voice was low, a warning in one word.

Theo, sensing the opportunity for backup, jumped in. “It wasn’t my fault! He called Mary-Ann a...a...” He hesitated, glancing nervously at his mother.

The head teacher cleared his throat uncomfortably. “A ‘church freak,’ I believe, was the term used. Followed by...other comments.”

Max’s lips pressed together tightly, his shoulders shaking as he fought the laugh bubbling up. He turned his head away, trying to disguise it as clearing his throat.

Theo, emboldened by his dad’s silent support, added, “Yeah, so I punched him! Right in the mouth.” He demonstrated with his fist, making a swooping motion like a dramatic action movie. “I didn’t even miss!”

Max lost it. A short laugh burst out before he could stop it, and he quickly turned it into a cough. His wife’s head snapped toward him. “Max Emilian!”

Her tone was scolding, but there was a flicker of amusement she couldn’t quite hide.

Max held up his hands in mock surrender. “What? The kid’s got good aim!”

The head teacher looked horrified. “Mr. Verstappen, this is hardly something to celebrate. Violence is unacceptable under any circumstances—”

“He started it!” Theo interrupted, glaring at the head teacher.

Max leaned forward, his voice mock-serious. “Way to go, buddy.” He reached out and fist-bumped Theo before his wife could stop him.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Max, you’re not helping.”

Mary-Ann finally spoke up, her voice small. “He only did it because he was sticking up for me. It’s...kind of sweet.”

Her mum sighed, turning her attention back to Theo. “Theo, you can’t just go around punching people, no matter what they say.”

Theo blinked at her, his face scrunching up in confusion. “But Dad did. He punched your dad, and no one told him off.”

Max froze, wide-eyed. “Whoa, whoa, let’s not drag me into this.”

But his wife turned to him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “Oh no, you’re definitely getting dragged into this. Theo wouldn’t be punching anyone if you hadn’t decked my dad in front of him.”

Max rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I mean...to be fair, your dad deserved it.”

“And that’s exactly what Theo thinks about this kid!” She gestured at their son, who looked increasingly smug.

The head teacher cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. “Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen, while I understand the context, the school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence. Theo will need to serve a two-day suspension.”

Max shrugged. “Two days? That’s not bad. Maybe we can—”

His wife slapped his arm lightly. “Stop encouraging him!”

Theo grinned, clearly unrepentant, and looked up at his dad. “Can we go home now?”

Max ruffled his hair. “Sure thing, champ. You earned a break.”

His wife threw her hands in the air, muttering something about boys and her fate of living with three of them. Despite her frustration, though, there was a small smile on her face as they walked out of the office.

As Max and Theo bolted out of the school building, laughter echoing in the hallway as they raced each other to the parking lot, she shook her head with a small, amused smile. Mary-Ann stayed by her side, clutching her school bag as they walked together at a slower pace.

Her daughter’s quietness didn’t go unnoticed. She looked down, noticing how Mary-Ann stared at the floor, her brows furrowed in thought. Gently, she placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“You okay, baby?” she asked softly.

Mary-Ann shrugged, hesitating for a moment. “I guess. Just...what that kid said about me at school.”

Her heart sank. She crouched down a little to meet Mary-Ann’s eyes, pausing in the hallway. “It’s okay if it upset you, you know. What he said was mean, and he was wrong.”

Mary-Ann chewed her lip, looking conflicted. “He called me a ‘church freak.’ I guess I don’t really know if I am one. Is it...bad?”

She felt her chest tighten at the vulnerability in her daughter’s voice. She took Mary-Ann’s hand and gave it a squeeze, guiding her to sit on a nearby bench where they could talk.

“I know how you feel,” she admitted after a moment. “When I was your age, I got called things like that too. Kids made fun of me for going to church, for praying, for all the little things I believed in. And it hurt.”

Mary-Ann blinked, her curiosity piqued. “Really? You got made fun of too?”

She nodded. “I did. A lot. But you know what? It doesn’t matter what they think. You don’t have to go to church just because I do. If you don’t like it, or if it makes you feel weird, you don’t have to keep going.”

Mary-Ann looked up at her in surprise. “You mean that?”

Her heart twisted as she nodded. Christianity was such a core part of her own life, something that had anchored her during her darkest moments. Letting go of the idea of her children growing up in the church wasn’t easy, but she also knew she couldn’t force it. Faith had to be their choice.

“I do, baby. What’s most important is that you feel comfortable. It’s not about what Dad or I want for you—it’s about what you want for yourself. Okay?”

For a moment, Mary-Ann said nothing, her little face thoughtful. Then she smiled, small but genuine. “I like going to church. I like Sunday school, and singing the songs. And I don’t care if kids at school think it’s weird.”

She felt a wave of relief and pride as she pulled her daughter into a hug. “That’s my girl. You’re so brave, you know that?”

Mary-Ann grinned against her shoulder. “Thanks, Mum.”

The sound of Max and Theo shouting in the distance broke the tender moment, and she shook her head as she helped Mary-Ann up.

“Come on. Let’s see if those two actually waited for us at the car or if they’re already halfway through that oil change.”

Mary-Ann giggled. “Dad’s definitely winning. Theo’s fast, but Dad’s faster.”

“Let’s go find out.” She smiled, holding Mary-Ann’s hand as they walked toward the parking lot.

Later that day, when the sun set and all of them had packed up the dinner table, Max found himself curled up on the sofa with his wife. His arm was draped around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest, their legs tangled as they relished a rare quiet moment. The kids had been unusually calm after dinner, and they’d taken full advantage of the lull.

But the calm didn’t last.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps broke through the peace, and all three kids came bounding into the room. Theo was leading the charge, with Mary-Ann and little Daniel trailing close behind, their faces lit up with excitement and mischief.

Max groaned, shifting slightly but keeping her close. “There goes the quiet.”

She smiled, sitting up just as Theo hopped onto the armrest of the couch. Mary-Ann plopped herself between her parents, while Daniel crawled up onto Max’s lap, nestling in without hesitation. At his age of 12, he just got away with it.

“What’s up, guys?” his wife asked, amused by their sudden energy.

Theo spoke first, his voice laced with curiosity. “How did you guys meet?”

She exchanged a look with Max, one eyebrow raised. “Where’s this coming from?”

Mary-Ann piped up, clearly eager to share. “We were looking in Dad’s office—”

Max’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Wait, wait. You were snooping in my garage? What were you doing in there?”

Daniel, ever the bold one, looked up at his dad with an innocent expression. “Pictures! We saw pictures!”

Theo nodded, practically bouncing now. “Yeah, pictures of you two when you were younger! You looked so different, Mum. And Dad didn’t have any grey hairs!”

Max snorted. “Gee, thanks, bud. Remind me who gave me these grey hairs.” He shot a mock glare at Theo, who grinned unrepentantly.

Their mother, who was laughing now, shook her head as she ruffled Mary-Ann’s hair. “You guys found the old photos, huh?”

Mary-Ann nodded, her eyes wide with wonder. “Mum, you looked so pretty in your dress, and Dad looked cool with his jacket and helmet.”

Max smirked, leaning back into the couch. “Cool, huh? You hear that, Angel? They think I’m cool.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re inflating his ego, guys. So, why do you want to know how we met?”

Daniel, still snuggled in Max’s lap, whispered conspiratorially, “Was it like a movie?”

Max chuckled, wrapping an arm around Daniel. “Sort of. It started with a Church and a bit of my chivalry. And maybe a little bad timing.”

She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with fond memories. “He was as stubborn as he is today, kept offering to carry some boxes for me.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Max teased, brushing a kiss against her temple.

Theo leaned forward, his curiosity insatiable. “So, you just saw Mum and were like, ‘She’s the one’?”

Max pretended to think for a moment. “Pretty much. Your mum was gorgeous. Still is. But it wasn’t just that. She had this thing about her—strong, determined, kind. She made me feel like maybe I could be a better man.”

She rolled her eyes but was clearly touched. “Oh, stop. You’re making me blush.”

Mary-Ann sighed dreamily. “That’s so cute. I want a love story like that one day.”

Max groaned dramatically, covering his face with a hand. “No. Absolutely not. You’re staying single forever.”

Mary-Ann smacked his arm lightly, laughing. “Dad!”

Daniel, trying to stay on topic, asked, “Then what happened? After the parking lot?”

She smiled, pulling her kids’ attention to her. “A lot happened. We fell in love. We got married. And then we had you guys. And that’s the best part of the whole story.”

As the laughter faded and the kids began settling down, she found herself staring at the curious, innocent faces of her children. Their questions had slowed, but the warmth of the moment lingered, leaving her with a quiet space to think.

The memories came rushing back—the hurried whispers in the dark, the rumble of Max’s motorbike as they fled the life she’d desperately wanted to escape. The fear, the uncertainty, and the overwhelming relief when she finally felt free.

They deserve to know, she thought, her gaze drifting to Theo, who was fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and Mary-Ann, who was resting her head against her shoulder. Even Daniel, with his sleepy eyes and little fingers clutching Max’s sleeve.

But how could she tell them? How could she explain the life she’d left behind without tainting their view of the world? Of family?

Her chest tightened at the thought. What if knowing changed how they saw her? Or worse, how they saw Max?

She bit her lip, glancing at him. He was leaning back on the couch, his arm resting along the backrest, his other hand absently ruffling Daniel’s hair. His eyes caught hers, and his brow quirked slightly, a silent question: You okay?

She nodded subtly, offering him a small smile.

No, she decided. Not now. Not yet.

They were still so young, their world so pure. If she told them the truth, it wouldn’t be to satisfy curiosity or ease her own conscience—it would have to be necessary, something they were ready to hear. And she would know when that moment came.

For now, she tucked the thoughts away, sealing them behind the same mental door she’d locked so many years ago.

And that’s how life was for the Verstappens.

Years passed, but the heart of their family never wavered. She and Max, once two young souls bound by circumstance and love, had built a life that was both imperfect and extraordinary.

The children grew, each carving their own paths in the world. Theo, ever protective and headstrong, went on to study engineering, inspired by the hours spent in the garage with his dad. He eventually took over the family’s repair shop, rebranding it with a sleek new sign that read “Verstappen & Son’s Auto.” He still teased Mary-Ann mercilessly but remained her fiercest defender.

Mary-Ann, with her gentle strength and quiet faith, became a teacher. She carried her mother’s warmth into the classroom, where she guided and inspired children from all walks of life. Her love for the church endured, but she carried it as her own, unpressured by anyone. She often joked with her parents that her students were easier to handle than her brothers.

And Daniel—sweet, clever Daniel—emerged as the family dreamer. With a heart as big as his father’s and a mind as sharp as his mother’s, he pursued a career in writing, crafting stories that captured the chaos and beauty of family life. His parents swore they recognised pieces of themselves in his characters, though he always denied it with a smirk.

She and Max grew older, their once fiery love mellowing into something deeper and even more unshakable. The garage was still Max’s domain, though he worked less and spent more time tinkering for fun. She often joined him, still the same girl who’d fallen for him in that tiny trailer all those years ago.

The white picket fence eventually aged, its paint chipping in places, but it stood strong—just like them. Sunday dinners became a cherished tradition, with laughter filling the house as their children and, later, their grandchildren gathered around the same worn dining table.

In the end, their lives weren’t perfect. They had their disagreements, their challenges, their moments of doubt. But they always had each other, and that made all the difference.

And as they sat together on the porch in their twilight years, Max’s hand in hers, the memories of their wild, beautiful journey were enough to fill a lifetime.

Because that’s how life was for the Verstappens—a story of love, resilience, and the kind of family you fight for, cherish, and hold onto forever.

the end.

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