#suave ocean breeze

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

what a throwback!!!! I remember using this in middle/high school!!

Suave Naturals Ocean Breeze Shampoo and Conditioner

early 2000s

Found on Ebay, user coolevelyn

[latanyalove]

My Goal

Summary: Sanji's goal after finding the All Blue was you. Who knew you were harder than his main goal.

Song: House Of Balloons / Glass Table Girls by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

In the sweltering kitchen of the Thousand Sunny, Sanji's eyes never failed to wander from the sizzling pans to the sultry sway of your hips as you navigated the cramped quarters with a grace that seemed to mock the chaos of a pirate ship.

His flirtations were as relentless as the sea, each one a tiny wave that crashed against the shore of your indifference. The first time he'd tried, you'd been chopping vegetables, your eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

He sailed in with a compliment, smoother than the whiskey he'd once pilfered from a Marines' ship.

"Your knife skills are sharper than my wit," he'd quipped, a rakish smile playing on his lips.

You, however, remained unfazed, not even bothering to look up from your cutting board. "And your wit is as dull as a marlin's," you replied, the blade of your knife glinting in the dim light as you sliced through a particularly tough piece of meat.

Sanji's smile had faltered, but only for a moment.

The second rejection came as you were both navigating the treacherous waters of a storm. Sanji had grabbed the ropes with a dramatic flair, muscles bulging beneath his wet shirt, and shouted to the heavens about his love for the sea and all its mysteries.

He'd glanced at you, expecting some form of admiration, perhaps even a blush to color your cheeks.

Instead, you'd rolled your eyes, your water manipulation devil fruit keeping you as dry as a bone, and said, "If you're going to be so dramatic, maybe you should join a theater troupe instead of a pirate crew."

He'd stumbled over his words, the rain beating a hasty retreat from his flustered face. Yet, his determination was as unyielding as the storm itself.

The third attempt was during a rare moment of respite on a tranquil island. As you lay on the beach, soaking in the sun, Sanji approached with a coconut drink, the straw adorned with a tiny paper parasol.

"For the most enchanting mermaid I've ever laid eyes on," he'd purred, leaning over you with a hopeful gaze.

With a sigh, you'd taken the drink, sipped it slowly, and said, "Thanks, but I prefer my beverages without a side of desperation."

His cheeks had reddened, but he hadn't moved, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air where the coconut had been.

The fourth rejection came as you both scaled the rigging to unfurl the sails. Sanji had tried to be suave, calling you "my lady of the sea," his voice carrying over the wind. You'd laughed, the sound as cool as the ocean breeze that whipped through your hair.

"Save it for someone who's actually impressed by your cheesy lines," you said, reaching for the rope with a deftness that belied your strength.

Each rejection was met with a different reaction from Sanji. Sometimes, he'd feign indifference, other times he'd laugh it off, and once he'd even pouted like a scolded child.

But the fifth time… ah, the fifth time was different.

It was as if the stars had aligned, the sea had whispered a secret into your ear, and you found yourself in a peculiar mood.

The sun had set, casting a warm glow on the ship's wooden deck. You'd been lost in thought, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a sense of peace.

Sanji had approached you, his usual flirtatious grin replaced by a tentative smile.

"I know I've said this before," he began, his voice low and earnest, "but you truly are the most captivating person I've ever met."

For a moment, something in your chest fluttered like a trapped bird, and your eyes met his with a softness that surprised you both. The air between you thickened, charged with a tension that hadn't been there before.

And then, with a smirk that held a hint of mischief, you leaned in close and whispered, "Alright, you win this round, Prince."

And so, it was in that moment of unexpected surrender that Sanji's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

His hand, which had been resting casually on the railing, reached for yours, his fingertips brushing against your skin with the gentleness of a butterfly's wings.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation that was as foreign to you as the concept of mercy in a pirate's world.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispered, "I promise to make you feel like the most cherished treasure in all the Grand Line."

His words, though spoken softly, carried the weight of a thousand unsaid confessions and the promise of a passion that had been burning for eons.

You felt your resolve crumble like the sand beneath the relentless waves of his charm, and with a smoldering gaze, you allowed him to pull you into an embrace that was as fiery as the sunsets you'd seen together.

As your bodies melded together, the ship's timbers seemed to groan in approval, the very air around you crackling with the electricity of your newfound connection.

Sanji's hands roamed your curves with a reverence that spoke of his longing, each caress leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding in time with the rhythm of the waves, and you found yourself responding to his advances with a fervor that shocked even you.

Your lips met in a kiss that was as deep and vast as the ocean itself, a silent declaration of the tumultuous emotions that had been brewing beneath the surface for so long.

The saltwater of the sea kissed your skin as the two of you tumbled onto the deck, the planks groaning beneath your weight as you gave in to the tempest of desire that had been building for what felt like an eternity.

Sanji's mouth traveled from your lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the soft flesh there as he nipped and sucked, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as you sought to deepen the kiss.

The taste of him was like nothing you had ever experienced, a heady blend of sweat, sea salt, and a hint of the spices that were his culinary trademark.

Your bodies moved in a dance as ancient as the tides, each touch and caress a silent promise of what was to come. Sanji's hands slipped beneath your shirt, his calloused thumbs tracing the delicate line of your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

Your own hands roamed his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady thump of his heart, a drumbeat to the symphony of your growing need.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the tempest of passion that had been brewing for so long. The gentle rocking of the Thousand Sunny became the rhythm to which your bodies swayed, a metronome to the crescendo of your desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled away to gaze into your eyes, the hunger in his gaze mirroring the ache in your core.

With a groan that was as primal as the sea, he lifted you into his arms and carried you below deck, the urgency in his movements belying the tenderness of his touch.

The door to your cabin slammed shut, the sound echoing through the corridor, leaving no doubt as to the intention of the pirate chef. He laid you down on your bed, the soft mattress enveloping you like a gentle embrace from Neptune himself.

The scent of the ocean and the faint hint of his cologne filled the small space, mingling with the heady aroma of your own desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more demanding as he traced a path down your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire that ignited every nerve ending.

His hands, once so gentle, grew bolder, exploring the curves of your body with a hunger that seemed insatiable. You felt your own hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

As the fabric fell away, you gasped at the sight of his sculpted chest, the muscles rippling like the waves you both knew so well.

Your fingers danced over his abs, tracing the lines of his taut muscles as if mapping the treacherous waters of the Grand Line. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, sending a wave of need crashing through your body.

His hands found their way to the ties of your pants, deftly untying the knots with the same skill he used to navigate the ship. As the fabric fell away, you were laid bare before him, vulnerable as a shipwrecked sailor adrift in a sea of passion.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his goal, his prize, finally within his grasp. He kissed you again, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the rhythm of the tides that pulled at the ship.

His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini top, freeing your breasts to the coolness of the night air.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes devouring you like a starving man before his mouth followed, his kisses a sweet agony that had you arching into him. . . . .

[lowkeycasanova]

baby it's hot out here

sanji x f!reader

plot: sanji seeing you innocently suck on a popsicle gives him inappropriate thoughts

warning: smut (18+)

It was hot.

Brutally hot.

The weather in the New World was unpredictable. From boulder sized hail, lighting rain, and now scorching rays. The relentless sun beat down on the Thousand Sunny. The air felt thick and stifling, as if nature conspired to make taking each breath a conscious effort.

The cool breeze of the ocean seemed to have abandoned the ship, leaving you all subject to the oppressive heat.

Amidst the sweltering conditions, everyone sought refuge where they could find it.

Luffy was sprawled out on the deck, his hat covering his face. Zoro was in the shadow of the ship's mast, still practicing his swordsmanship with beads of sweat running down his face, with Franky and Brook sitting close by. Usopp leaning over the edge of the ship in an attempt to catch whatever breeze was sent his way.

You, Nami, Robin, and Chopper, who diligently tried to cool himself with a handheld fan, laid in the shadows on the deckchairs.

"It's so hot, I'm sweating cola." Franky announces.

"You know," you heard Brook say as he flexed his arm and leaned on it like a pillar for support. "If you pretend it's a sauna, it's actually not so bad."

Sanji was in the kitchen, determined to whip up a refreshing drink for you ladies. Everyone else can get their own.

Bringing the drinks out, he makes his way over to you, Nami, and Robin, leaning down like a gentleman, offering the glasses.

"Thank you Sanji." Robin says politely and his heart skips a beat.

Nami takes one as she continues to examine her log pose.

"Thanks but, can I get one of those popsicles we just got?" You asked him, lifting up your sunglasses. It was at the last island the crew was at where you were gifted with a bag of these treats called popsicles that you never had before and had the desire to try.

"Of course, love. Anything you want." He replied with a suave grin. He made his way back to the kitchen, pulling out the bag from the freezer, ready to present it to you in a flourish.

You squeal in delight as you rummage through the assortment, Sanji watching with a lazy grin. You waste no time tearing the plastic wrap off a blue raspberry flavored one, bringing it to your lips. And it's so hot that it seemingly starts to melt already.

Sanji eyes a cherry one, but decides against taking it. He didn't need the sugar.

He puts the rest back in the freezer and walks back out on the deck with his own glass of ice water. He momentarily takes his cigarette out of his mouth to take a sip of water and he glances back at the beautiful ladies laid out adjacent from him.

Right then, you hold the treat in your mouth, as you take of your shirt, leaving you clad in a bikini top and shorts, leaving little to the imagination.

That alone would send Sanji over the edge, but now paired with the fact that your lips are stretched around the popsicle, sinking lower to the base and back up again, eyes fluttering closed.

His eyes go wide and his throat dry. He watches you slowly pull back off it, a sweet hum coming from your mouth and the wet noise pierces his ears.

His mind is going crazy. His cock is getting hard. Your eyes are closed and Sanji knows it's in part because it's hot and because you're enjoying the sweet treat, but part of him wonders if that's what you'd look like after getting fucked by him.

He tries to shake the thoughts away. He can't have one of his episodes right now. But the more he thinks, the more he can see it play out.

Him sitting on the bed, you kneeling down on the floor in front of him while you suck him off.

He's brought back to reality. You're in conversation with Nami, laughing at something she said, while using your tongue sweep over the length of the popsicle. Then using your thump to wipe away some of the stickiness from your lips.

Sanji was hanging by a thread. He abruptly sticks the cigarette back in his mouth and storms off, ignoring Franky's call.

"What's the matter bro?"

Luffy lifts his hat up and shrugs. "Maybe he has a stomach ache."

His cock gets harder with every step he takes. Making a beeline for the bathroom, he rushes in and immediately locks the door. He undos his belt, tugs his pants down, and frees the part of his shirt that was tucked in.

His back is pressed against the wall, head thrown back. His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he squeezes his length. He feels the pangs of a sinful conscious. Nami would punch him into next week if she found out that he had gotten off to the thought of you like this.

Maybe that's what makes it more exhilarating.

His eyes flutter closed and the cig is long gone. It must have fell out when he was coming here. But no matter. His thumbs his tip, spreading his arousal over himself.

"Fuck, love." he breathes. He can see it now. You on your knees with your delicate little hand around his throbbing dick. He feels himself spasm in his hand.

A groan escapes his mouth as his clenched fist begins to move up and down his thick shaft.

He imagines you wrapping your mouth around him. The soft feeling of your cheeks as his tip nudges that little dangly thing in the back of your throat. "Yes, mhm, take it. Such a good girl." he sighs. "Keep sucking for me, just like that. You know how to do it."

His knees are shaking and his dick is throbbing and leaking. He's soaked from his own arousal but so badly wants it to be from your own.

Your pussy. Oh god.

Now he can't stop picturing your swollen lips and pulsing clit. His imagination will be the death of him. The idea of you laying back for him, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can see him, and spreading your thighs.

He gets comfortable and puts a finger in between your soft folds. You're dripping for him. Him.

His hand picks up the pace and feels this tingly sensation in his stomach.

He slaps his tip against your clit a few times. That makes you arch your back as he pushes his way in. The feeling of being stretched makes your walls tighten. He gulps, trying to compose himself. "So fucking tight."

Your pussy squelches with every thrust, breasts are bouncing and nipples erect. You're desperate, begging him for more.

The veins in his head and the muscles in his neck pop. He's a grunting mess. Gritting his teeth, using the stamia he has left to focus. He is too far gone to tease himself.

He now sees you still laying on your back, but you're giving him a handjob. Milking him for all he's got.

"Ugh, fuck!" he cried out, slamming his back against the wall as he cums. It's thick and white and he imagines cumming all over your chest. But in reality, the sticky arousal is all over his hand.

His cock softens in his hand and he breathes to try to calm down. Sanji takes a look at the mess he made, letting out a blissed, fucked out laugh, not even trying to hide the smile on his face.

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Neige x Reader: White Beaches and a Spring Morning

Summary: The Ramshackle prefect is finally able to get a full week off from school after four overblots. Determined to enjoy their time to the fullest off campus, they set out to explore Sage’s Island, starting with the island’s southern beaches. However, it seems that our prefect can never catch a break, as they find an RSA student crying and upset. Unable to just look away, they set their sights on comforting him and helping him have a good time outside of school.

Word count: just under 3k

Tags: fluff, getting together (not officially though), dates, romance

Warnings: none… unless suave reader is a warning… reader being too hot lol

Author’s notes: this was inspired by a tumblr post by @sorbertisfruity and I loved it so much that I decided to start writing it. Also this is my first time I’m actually writing and posting my creative work, so I just ask that people are kind. Thanks and enjoy!

Leaning forward with the wind whipping through your hair, you fly down the mountain path away from Night Raven College. The engine of the magic wheel roars behind you, as music blasts from the speakers. Finally, you were free! After months of work, you finally got a week off. Of course, you had to blackmail Crowley by threatening to expose the multiple overblots. Nonetheless, he conceded to your requests in the end. Now, you’ve left your worries and Grim temporarily behind in favor of a relaxing day at the beach. 

Pulling up to the sandy shore, you park the magic wheel you’d borrowed from Ignihyde and look out at the sight before you. It was a nice change of scenery compared to the dreary mountain Night Raven College sat atop of. The morning was crisp and clear with the sea breeze wafting from the ocean. The beach was empty. You were here on a weekday after all. You grab your bag from one of the compartments and head off toward the tide.

The sandals on your feet sink slightly into the sand as you search for a more secluded area to place your bag. After walking along the coast, you catch a glimpse of NRC’s rival school, the Royal Sword Academy. It was almost blinding with its tall white spires that were tipped with blue. Overall, the vibe is much brighter than NRC’s gothic horror aesthetic.

“Wonder what their facilities are like,” you murmur to yourself, “Maybe I can secretly get a tour of the school and request a transfer while I’m at it.”

You chuckle at the thought of your friends’ outrageous reactions to your fictional transfer. Just as you finish the thought, you hear a loud sob. Furrowing your brow, you pick up your pace. Even on your day off, you never catch a break, you internally sigh. You blame your upright and well-meaning nature, but you shrug off the thought as you come across an alcove in the rocks. 

You find a boy huddled up against the stone, sobbing to himself. He’s wearing a familiar white uniform jacket, signifying that he’s from the Royal Swords Academy. You’re unable to see his face as he’s tucked it into his knees. Only his ruffled black hair shows. Next to him lies a black beret and the dirt and skid marks on his uniform make it obvious he ran out of the academy. 

Coming closer to the cave-like area, your footsteps are masked by the sound of soft waves lapping against the coast. 

“Hey,” you call out, “Are you alright?”

The boy’s head snaps up. He stumbles to his feet and begins making rapid apologies. His voice has a light, airy quality to it that cracks as he trips over his words. 

“I—I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I—I should probably go. I don’t want to bother you—“ 

He isn’t able to say anything more, as his foot catches on a nearby rock and he begins tumbling forward with a squeak. Moving on instinct, you catch him by the waist, pulling him in to support his weight. Pressed up against him, you note that he has a slim but fairly toned waist. He’s also a bit taller than expected. 

“Are you ok?” You ask, “That was pretty close. It might be a good idea to sit down for a while before moving again. Sorry, I startled you. I was just concerned whenever I heard someone in distress.”

Pulling away slightly, you’re able to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are the first feature that stands out to you. They’re soft, doe-like, and innocent. His brown eyes are a little puffy and red around the edges from crying, but it doesn’t detract from their soft allure. Your eyes flicker down toward his lips. They’re tinted a natural red, as he chews on them. Suddenly, you become acutely aware of how close the two of you are. You can feel his ragged breath on your cheek, as you take the time to observe him.

He glances down and away from you, tears still in his eyes, as continues to gnaw on his lip. Whether from the anxiety of being caught crying or the flustered embarrassment of being so close, you’re not sure. You suspect it might be both. However, when he turns his cheek, the light catches a glimmer of wet tears that have already streaked down his face. Before you have time to think, you reach your hand up to cup his cheek and wipe it away. 

Blinking, you realize that you just performed a somewhat intimate gesture and you move your hand away. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to help. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask.

He stares at you with wide eyes and touches the place where you wiped his tears with his hand.

“…No, I didn’t mind it.” 

His voice breaks, then in a smaller tone, he comments, “It was nice.”

“That’s good,” you chuckle, “My name’s (Y/N), and you?”

He hesitates for a second before replying, “Neige.”

He watches your reaction intently, looking for any signs of recognition, but when there is none, he relaxes slightly. 

“I wouldn’t mind sitting down again,” he tells you. 

He starts to pull away to sit back down when you tighten your grip on his waist, stopping him. 

“Hold on, I have a towel. Let me lay it down first,” you state. 

Rummaging through your bag, you pull out a towel that you stole from Heartslabyul. The print on the fabric is a dead giveaway. It’s littered with multicolored card suits. Spreading it out, you plop down on the fluffy towel and turn to Neige, who comes to sit next to you.

“Again, sorry for scaring you earlier. I just heard you were in distress and wanted to make sure you were ok,” you repeat, inspecting for any physical wounds. “Physically, you seem fine. Are you in emotional distress?”

Playing with the edge of the towel, he glances up at you before looking away. His grip tightens on it and he nods. 

Neige hesitates before saying, “You know, if you have other places to be, you can go do those. You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine–”

Before he can get any further, you cut him off, “Neige, I know we just met, but I’m not going to leave someone who’s upset behind. You seem sweet and I want to get to know you. It would be nice to get a new friend.”

You put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He looks up at you with wet eyes and hiccups slightly, trying to hold back newly formed tears. Your eyes go wide and your body moves on autopilot. You open your arms to offer a hug. 

“Hey, do you want a hug? Will that make you feel better?”

Neige hesitates before nodding. Given your cue, you envelop him in a warm, tight hug. Cradling him, you rub small circles on his back and whisper words of comfort. 

He breaks. Any semblance of wariness or guard that he had up before crumbles against your kindness and small persistence. He cries so hard that his whole body shakes against you. You squeeze tighter and you can tell that you are the only thing keeping him together at this moment. He ends up clinging and clawing at you as if you’re his only lifeline in the vast ocean. He sobs harder at your gentle approach to comforting him and a few broken words of gratitude spill from his mouth. 

“—Thank you, thank you so much. I never— I never got this growing up. I always had to put on a cheerful face to not worry my— my family. This means so much to me. Thank you, thank you (Y/N).”

You clutch him tighter, running a hand through his hair, as he sobs into your shoulder. You feel for him. You understand the struggles of having to carry everyone else’s burden even though it shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place. You ended up solving and resolving each overblot with only some of your classmates and practically no teachers. No responsible adults were around to help fight Riddle, restrain Leona, stop Azul, and punish Jamil. It had been getting exhausting. Thankfully, you got a week to yourself, but this wasn’t about you and you turned your attention back on your new friend, Neige. 

You allow him to get all the tears, sorrow, and pain out of his system. When his sobbing slows down and his breathing starts to even out, you reach into your bag to pull out some tissues, nudging Neige’s face with them. 

Upon feeling the tap, he looks up from where his face was buried in your shoulder. Tears and snot run down his face, and he takes the tissues with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, taking the tissue and blowing into it.

After giving him some water, snacks, a lot of tissues, and more cuddles, he’s much more relaxed than he was earlier. His tired eyes are unable to focus on anything specific, as they flutter to stay awake. He continues to lean on you for support.

Chuckling, you ask, “Wanna lay down?”

Letting out an almost incoherent murmur of approval, he clutches onto your clothes, before asking, “Promise you won’t leave?”

You give him a soft smile that he’s unable to see with his eyes closed, and you lay the two of you down on the towel. You rest beside Neige, as he makes himself comfortable, nestling into your arms. 

“Of course, Snow,” you answer, “I’ll make sure to protect you if anything is out to get you.”

He nuzzles into you with a smile filled with sweet dreams, as he drifts off to sleep. After a while of listening to the ocean waves lap against the shore and feeling the slow steady breathing of the person next to you, you also find yourself lulled into the land of dreams.

~~~~~~

“You’re already skipping school. You might as well take the day off to relax and enjoy yourself,” you persuade, “Besides, would you leave your new friend behind to hang out at the beach by themselves?”

You look at Neige with playful and expectant eyes. He lets out a sigh and a small smile slips through, as he concedes. 

“I suppose taking one day off wouldn’t hurt.”

You give a cheer.

“Race you to the ocean!” you shout, scrambling to your feet. 

Neige squeaks in surprise, before he latches onto your ankle, tripping you. Landing on your hands with a small oof, Neige rushes past.

“Ok, pretty boy! I see how it is,” you cackle. 

Launching yourself from the ground into a runner’s sprint, you catch up to him. Wrapping your arms around Neige’s waist, you use your momentum to spin him around a couple of times before flinging him in the opposite direction of the coast. He screeches at the unexpected attack and begins laughing as he stumbles back, trying to regain his balance. Without hesitation, you turn back to the destination and bolt toward the finish line. 

The tempered ocean water hits your feet, slowing you down, as you raise your fists and cheer.

Neige jogs over with a stuttering laugh.

“Alright, alright, you win. Are you happy?” He asks with a grin.

“Immensely,” you beam.

~~~~~~

“We’ll have a [favorite ice cream/gelato flavor] and biscoff gelato, please,” you order from the ice cream parlor you found. 

The man behind the counter nods with a smile and begins scooping out your request. Neige’s eyes are wide as they turn to you.

“You don’t have to pay for mine,” he insists, pulling out his wallet. 

You stop his movements by putting a hand over his.

You hold eye contact with him, as you say, “I like and want to spoil you. You’re sweet, so getting you something sweet only makes sense. Please let me do this.”

Neige’s face heats up and you watch his brain malfunction for a few seconds, before turning away. You take the opportunity to pull out your card and give it to the owner of the shop, paying for your snacks. 

“That’s so sweet of you to pay for your boyfriend like that,” the owner comments, swiping your card.

Grinning, you wrap an arm around Neige’s waist, tugging him closer to you. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t treat himself that often, so I have to make sure he gets what he deserves,” you answer, winking at Neige.

Neige’s hand rushes to cover his blush as it spreads to the tips of his ears. The owner coos at you two, handing you your ice creams and card. You thank him on your way out, still attached at the hip with a flustered Neige. 

~~~~~~

The magic wheel zooms through the streets of Sage’s Island, and the sun casts a golden glow on you and Neige. He’s pressed right up against your back, clinging onto your waist. It’s warm and comforting. You’ve been riding aimlessly together for about half an hour, but seeing the sun setting, you figure you should take him home. 

Sneaking a glance at your companion, you watch his wide-eyed gaze explore the mountainous scenery. You smile before speeding up. You feel Neige’s chest move with twinkling laughter. He squeezes you tighter and leans in. Today has been a far better day than expected.

The sun has partially set in the sky as you pull up to the gates of the Royal Swords Academy. Putting the vehicle in park, you dismount the wheel, before offering your hand to help Neige off. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you say with a wink. 

Neige’s breath catches, as a hand comes to block his mouth in embarrassment. He places his other hand in yours, using it to get off. With both feet on the ground, he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. You might as well have, you note, as the stars begin to peek out.

“When will I see you again? I want to see you again,” he pleads.

You blink in surprise at such a bold statement, before chuckling. 

“Well, I can come back tomorrow if you want me to. You know I have the week off,” you offer with a fond smile.

“Really?! You would do that? That wouldn’t ruin your vacation, would it?” he clarifies at a rapid pace.

You laugh, leaning against the magic wheel. 

“Honestly, Neige, if I didn’t leave NRC’s campus, I’d probably get dragged into some kind of shenanigans with Ace, Deuce, and Grim,” you explain, “I love them, but they’re a handful and I want a break. I would much rather hang out with you. It’s more peaceful and relaxing. Besides, I had a lot of fun today and I like getting to know you.” 

Neige’s mouth opens in a small oh, as his gaze softens. He clasps his hands in front of his heart, simply gazing at you. For a few moments, you just hold each other’s gaze, content and comfortable in the silence. You reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair away from Neige’s face. You let your hand linger, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb against it. His eyes droop and he nuzzles into your hold. Unable to resist, you draw him closer and loop an arm around his waist, before remembering–

“Your beret,” you murmur, “Let me get it for you.”

Moving to open one of the compartments on the magic wheel, you grab Neige’s hat only to settle back into the space in front of him. Placing the beret on his head, you let him adjust it. As he finishes, you notice unfamiliar red lettering along the border. Leaning in, you take a closer look.

“Someday my princess will come,” you quote.

Smiling, you continue, “Mmm, that’s cute. That sounds like something you would say, Neige.”

Your thumb runs over the embroidery, following every swirl of cursive on the beret. Your eyes flicker down to his to realize that you’re rather close. You can’t help but take a peek at his lips. They’re red, just like when you first met him, but this time they're slightly parted. You find yourself locking eyes with Neige’s brown ones once again, drawn together like magnets. Neige presses his body more snugly against you, watching for any signs of discomfort, as he rests his hands on your hips. You play with his lapel, before moving up to his shoulders and finally wrapping your arms around his neck. You give a playful smile, as you draw closer, and you feel Neige’s quiet laughter against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you lean in. 

Before you can kiss, however–

“Neige, Neige! There you are!” 

“Do you know how much you made us worry?”

“We couldn’t find you after you ran out of the dorm– *achoo*!”

“And you–you left your phone at the dorm, so we had no way to contact you!”

“We looked everywhere in the academy, *yawns* even my favorite napping place.” 

“I can’t believe you skipped class. You should take us next time.”

“Toby, what are you talking about? We’re not supposed to skip class.” 

“Oops, sorry, I forgot.”

Neige lets out a whine, as his head falls against your shoulder. With the moment ruined, he hugs your waist tighter in protest. Laughing, you pat the poor boy’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. You take a look past him to identify the source of the shouts.

You spot seven short figures toddling their way over to the two of you from RSA’s gates. You’re unable to make out the fine details in the diminishing light, and instead opt to look back at Neige, his pitiful form still draped over you. These must be the seven dwarves that he was talking about earlier; the ones he grew up with. Based on their behavior, they seem to care about him just as much as Neige expressed his love and concern for them. You squeeze Neige tighter, grateful that he has a secure support network. He’s already been through a lot just based on what he’s told you so far.

Neige lets out another groan of despair, as you turn your full attention back towards him. Feeling a bit playful, you bring your face right next to his ear.

“I won’t let you go without a little something,” you tease.

Neige perks up, looking at you with wide and attentive eyes.

You chuckle at his reaction, murmuring that he’s cute, before leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He melts into your touch, gripping your waist tighter. Pulling away, you tap your own cheek with a quick wink. In the dim light, you’re barely able to make out the flush spreading across his face. His Adam's apple bobs, before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle, and after a few seconds pull away.

“Enough to tide you over?” you question.

“...Barely,” he whispers, still stuck in the same spot, star-struck. 

“I trust your friends will make sure you get to your dorm safely?” you confirm, starting up the engine of the magic wheel. 

He nods.

“Good,” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Snow.”

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he replies, before shaking out of his stupor and calling out, “Make sure to get home safe!”

You laugh, as you leave the Royal Swords Academy… at least for today.

“Thanks! Will do!” 

You’ll be back tomorrow. 

[broomballkraken]

Title: Like Fine Wine

Fandom: Fields of Mistria

Pairing(s): Terithia/Landen/Errol

Word count: 3377

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content

Summary: Terithia didn’t know how it happened, but she somehow managed to fall in love with both of her best friends at the same time. As she struggles to come to terms with her conflicting feelings, she meets Landen and Errol for dinner and drinks, where the tension finally reaches a breaking point…between all three of them.

It had been an average spring day in Mistria for Terithia. Up before the sun, she scarfed down a quick breakfast of canned sardines before heading off to do some river fishing until noon. She stopped by the inn for a hearty lunch and made her way to the beach in the afternoon to hopefully fish up something special for dinner tonight, for she would not be dining alone.

Meeting with Errol and Landen for dinner on a regular basis was nothing new for Terithia. They were best friends after all, and had been ever since she moved to town and they all hit it off right away. Theirs was a treasured relationship that she’d never had with anyone else before.

Terithia’s ocean fishing turned out to be a rousing success, and she quickly made her way home with a basket full of fresh mackerel. Errol liked them grilled, she knew for a fact, and Landen also happened to be a fan. She breezed through the messy cleaning part of the process, and in no time at all, she had three mackerel fillets grilling to perfection, filling her house with a delicious aroma.

Normally she wouldn’t bother cooking her own fish, preferring to take her catch to the inn and have it cooked up there. Her company tonight, however, made her want to pull out all the stops herself, and it wasn’t just because Errol and Landen were her best friends…

It was also because she was in love...with both of them.

Terithia winced as the knife she was using to cut up vegetables slipped from her grasp, coming dangerously close to slicing her fingers open. Biting her lip, she took in a calming breath, letting it out slowly before resuming her dinner preparations. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when she had fallen in love with Errol and Landen, but what she did know was that it was getting harder and harder to keep her feelings to herself as time went on.

Hiding them seemed like her only option, however. Terithia was held back by the fact that she had no damn clue if either man saw her in a romantic way, and she sure as hell didn’t want to potentially jeopardize their friendship by expressing feelings that wouldn’t be reciprocated; Terithia knew that would make things incredibly awkward, for her at least.

So for now, Terithia had to bite her tongue and endure Landen’s suave and playful teasing, or Errol’s endearing lectures about any new museum donations and his heaping praise whenever Terithia told him about her successful fishing ventures. That was far easier said than done...

When she had finished cooking and set three places at her dinner table, a broad smile crossed Terithia’s face when she heard a loud series of knocks. She made her way to the door, slow enough so that she could fluff up her hair and push her bangs out of her face, and she opened it to find her favorite people in the world.

“Evening, Terithia!” Landen said, winking as he stepped inside with Errol just behind him. “Whew, I’m glad we made it before the storm started back up!”

Errol nodded in agreement. “We were rather lucky. The rain stopped just long enough for us to get here.”

“Heh, that is lucky!” Terithia beamed as she shut the door, trying and failing to calm her rapidly-beating heart as the three went over to the dining table. “But, it did allow me to fish up tonight’s dinner, so I can’t say the rain’s all bad, kya ha ha!”

The way Landen was smiling at her gave Terithia pause, and she could only hope that she looked away in time to hide the flush in her cheeks. Errol chuckled, which was an incredibly pleasant sound that never failed to make Terithia’s heart skip a beat. He set the bag he had been carrying on the table and reached inside.

“I baked up a hefty helping of sweetroot. That new farmer’s got quite a knack for finding them,” Errol said, and Landen laughed and slapped a hand to his back.

“Ha! That really takes me back!” he said, slapping his other hand to Terithia’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Remember when we used to roast up the sweetroot that Errol brought back from the mines? Those were some great times.”

“They sure were.” Terithia couldn’t help but smile when the memories came flooding back to her, but she frowned when Landen removed his hand from her shoulder.

Setting his own bag on the table next to Errol’s, Landen pulled two large bottles out of it. “This wine is my contribution tonight. Balor got a hold of a nice vintage, and at a discount too!”

“Nice! Sometimes I wonder how Balor can afford to do that kinda thing.”

“You’re not the only one. Nora’s been trying to get him to spill his secret for ages now,” Errol said, causing Terithia to bark out a laugh.

“Kya ha ha! She’d have an easier time trying to get Holt to quit it with the puns, or getting March to be nice to the new farmer.”

Errol and Landen laughed along with her, and they all settled into their routine dinner. The mackerel was good, but Terithia new that Jo or Reina would have done a better job cooking it. That fact didn’t stop Landen and Errol from gushing about how delicious it was, and Terithia hoped that the blush that rose upon her cheeks wasn’t too obvious.

As they ate, the trio fell into a familiar pattern of pleasant conversation. Terithia regaled the men with how her day of fishing went, while Landen showed off some new furniture concept sketches, which he quickly confirmed to be strictly for fun and Ryis’ training when Terithia reminded him that he was supposed to be retired.

Errol proudly talked about how well the museum was doing, especially since the new farmer started donating the various specimens and artifacts that they came across. It warmed Terithia’s heart to see how happy they both were, but a pit of longing formed deep inside her gut; she wished that they could do this kind of thing every single night.

After they had finished their dinner and dessert, Terithia found herself lounging on the couch in between Errol and Landen, and the latter smiled as he held up a half empty bottle of wine.

“Another glass?”

Terithia gave him a vigorous nod. “Well, sure!”

“Yes, please,” Errol said, and Landen was quick to fill all three of their glasses.

“Cheers, to treasured friends,” Landen said as he held up his glass.

“To treasured friends!”

The word ‘friends’ hung heavy in the air, and Terithia couldn’t stop a slight frown from crossing her lips as she took a sip of her wine. Sure, she wouldn’t trade her friendship with Landen and Errol for the world, but that didn’t stop her from hoping that it would grow into something more...

Terithia was glad that the wine was so good, as that helped to distract her from her negative thoughts. Letting out a content sigh and licking her lips, she said, “Ah, delicious! And aged to perfection, as the fancy folk would day, kya ha ha!”

“If you’ll let me be so bold,” Landen said, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes as he swirled his glass, “you’ve sure aged like fine wine, Terithia.”

“I wholeheartedly agree,” Errol was quick to add, and Terithia barely managed to keep herself from choking on her drink. Damn it, it was comments like that that made it so hard for Terithia to keep her mouth shut about her feelings. If they kept this up...

Terithia cleared her throat before letting out a half-hearted chuckle. “Well, that goes double for you two then.” They both offered up some light laughter as well, but when it faded a heavy, awkward tension settled upon the room, like fog suddenly rolling in from the sea in the wee hours of the morning.

Swallowing thickly, Terithia cast a sidelong glance at Landen, who was staring so intensely at his glass that she thought he might burn a hole in it. She then looked at Errol, who had gone a bit pale in the face; she hoped that her dinner hadn’t made him sick...

Terithia stared down at her hands, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. What if Landen and Errol had figured out that she loved them? Maybe they were so quiet because they were thinking about how to let her down easy? The very thought made Terithia’s heart sink into her stomach, but she gave her head a quick shake and grit her teeth. No, that couldn’t be it...but she would never know if she never asked. She knew what she needed to do now.

“Is something wrong, Terithia?”

Landen’s concerned voice snapped Terithia from her thoughts, and she chewed on her bottom lip and leaned back against the couch. “No, it’s just...got a lot on my mind.”

Errol crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes locking with hers. “Do you need to talk about it? We’re all ears.”

‘Here we go...It’s now or never.’

Downing the rest of her wine and setting the empty glass onto the coffee table, Terithia took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever happened after she asked the two men seated next to her a question:

“So...this might be - ah, no, it is - a weird question, but...” She felt her face heat up when both Errol and Landen turned to face her fully with eyebrows raised.

“Have either of you ever...been in love with more than one person, at the same time?” She winced, preparing herself for their inevitable laughter at such a ridiculous notion, but it did not come.

Instead, Landen shot up straight as an arrow, and Errol choked a bit as he spit out the wine that he had been trying to drink. Terithia blinked, confused, as she gave Errol a few firm smacks on the back to clear his airway.

“Er, ahem...” Landen said when Errol had recovered, and he averted his gaze as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Funny you should ask, because my answer...is yes.”

“...M-Mine too, actually.” Errol’s cheeks had gone pink, and Terithia had to pick her jaw up off of the floor as she looked between the two as if they both had grown a second head.

“You...oh, u-uh...” Terithia fumbled over her words, and it took a moment for her to force out a coherent sentence. “I-I see, and do any of those feelings still...linger?”

To her immense surprise, both men nodded in response, Errol’s face flushing red while Landen cleared his throat, and Terithia swallowed thickly before asking her next - and most important - question:

“...and are either of those people in this room right now?”

“Yeah, both of them.”

“It’s the same for me.”

Terithia smacked her hands against her thighs and squeezed hard to keep herself from squealing like an infatuated schoolgirl whose crush had just asked her to attend the Spring Festival with them (she would have never lived that down.) The wave of relief that swept over her threatened to knock her right off the couch, but she managed to collapse against the back instead.

“So, you two are telling me that you’ve been in love with me - and each other - and me with you, and we’ve all been keeping it to ourselves because...?”

“I wasn’t sure if either of you felt the same way, and I didn’t want to muck up our friendship if I was wrong,” Landen said as he tugged at his collar with a rare, shy smile on his face.

Errol averted his gaze and scratched at his beard. “I...was just really nervous.”

Looking between the two of them, Terithia barely managed to hold back a laugh. Well, she felt incredibly foolish now for keeping her feelings all bottled up like that, but the overwhelming happiness that swept over her entire being in this moment was quick to eclipse anything else.

Terithia sighed and dragged her hand down her face. “Well, don’t do that again. I’m too damn old to be fretting that much.” She decided to pretend that she hadn’t also put off confessing her feelings for way too damn long.

That mischievous glint reappeared in Landen’s eyes, and he reached out to take Terithia’s hand. “I don’t know about that. Like we said before, you’ve aged quite well, right Errol?”

Errol smiled and shared a knowing glance with Landen, before they both leaned over to place a kiss on Terithia’s cheeks, causing her heart to race and face to flush with heat.

“Mmm, like fine wine indeed...” Landen whispered, his lips brushing against Terithia’s skin as he spoke, causing a shiver to run down her spine.

Errol chuckled, and the deep, rumbling vibration made his lips tickle her skin, and he managed to coax a light laugh out of her.

“The finest.”

Well, this was certainly going to take some getting used to, and Terithia could barely hear herself think over the roaring of her heartbeat in her ears. Her face felt hot and stayed that way, even when Landen and Errol finally pulled away.

“You two sure are laying it on thick,” Terithia said with a chuckle, and she gasped when Landen’s hand cupped her cheek, making her turn her head to look at him.

“Not thick enough for me, I’m afraid.” Landen’s voice had dropped low, and his face had moved dangerously close to hers. Terithia’s breath caught in her throat at the intense look in his pretty brown eyes, and she thought her heart was going to burst from her chest when he leaned in to press their lips together in a soft, tender kiss.

Terithia had her fair share of first kisses in her life, but none could hold a candle to just how right this one felt...but she had a feeling that her next one would be just as unforgettable.

Landen pulled away first, and he lifted her hand to his face to place a kiss on the back of it, causing Terithia’s heart to skip a beat. His gaze moved to the man sitting at her other side, and she turned around to face Errol, who was watching her and Landen with a deep fondness in his eyes, as if he was looking at the most precious of treasures. Terithia smiled and reached up to cup his face, her fingers settling in his soft beard. She wasted no time and pulled him close, causing him to let out a startled ‘oh!’

“Your turn,” Terithia whispered, her lips lightly grazing his as she spoke, and she kissed him before giving him a chance to respond. He seemed a bit stunned, but he made a swift recovery and cupped Terithia’s face, tilting her head so that he could deepen the kiss. Oh yes, she was very right; this kiss was just as incredible.

When they parted, Terithia felt light-headed in the best way possible. She had finally kissed the men that she had harbored so much love for, and it was a moment that she would never, ever forget.

A cheeky smile crossed her face and she leaned against the couch again, looking back and forth between Landen and Errol, who were suddenly acting quite bashful. Rolling her eyes, Terithia leaned back further against the couch and reached out to grab both of their hands.

“C’mon, don’t be shy now. You two still have to seal the deal,” she teased, tugging them towards each other. She laughed when Errol’s face somehow flushed a darker shade of red and Landen sputtered; Terithia didn’t think she’d ever seen the latter look so flustered.

Landen smiled fondly and reached out with his free hand to take Errol’s. “Heh, sorry Errol. I thought I could keep my cool for a bit longer, but...finding out I’m loved by not one but two incredible people is a bit overwhelming, even for me.”

Errol averted his gaze for a moment, and he gave Landen’s hand a gentle squeeze when he looked back at him. “I...feel the same way. It is quite a...surreal feeling, actually.”

“Yeah.”

“Y-Yeah...”

“Get on with it!” Terithia said, rolling her eyes and giving both of their hands a few quick squeezes each.

“You’re a bit too excited for thi-” Landen started, but he found it hard to continue speaking with Errol’s lips pressed against his. His startled noise was muffled by the kiss, and Terithia watched the intimate moment with an overwhelming look of adoration in her eyes. She never imagined that this routine dinner of theirs would turn out quite like this, but Terithia was so glad it did.

When Errol and Landen pulled away from each other, both breathless and with a sparkle in their eyes, Terithia slipped her arms behind both of their backs and pulled them flush against her. Landen chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist as he nuzzled his cheek against hers, while Errol leaned down to place a kiss against her temple.

“Errol, Landen…I love you,” Terithia said as her arms tightened around them, “and I’m really damn happy that I can finally say that out loud.” All three of them chuckled at that, and Landen brushed his lips against Terithia’s cheek before lifting Errol’s hand to his face and kissing his knuckles.

“I love you both too,” Landen said with a wink. “Can’t say that I’ve ever felt this strongly about anyone else before either.”

Errol wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them even closer together before he placed a kiss onto both of their foreheads. “And I love you two as well, with all that I am.”

There was no trace of the awkward tension that had filled the room before, and all that was left in its wake was a comfortable, secure feeling that could only come from being cuddled up to the two men that Terithia loved more than anyone else. She let out a content sigh, feeling herself practically melt into their embrace, until she was startled by a loud crack of thunder.

“Oh my,” Errol said, rubbing his chin as he looked out the window. “It seems that the storm has returned, and with a vengeance.”

“Ah, listen to that pattering rain on the roof!” Landen said, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against Terithia’s shoulder. “Like music you could dance to!”

Terithia laughed at that, and she hummed thoughtfully as a sly grin crossed her face. “Looks like it might storm all night long. You two better stay here tonight.”

Landen raised an eyebrow at her, before throwing his arm over her shoulder and gently traced her jawline with his finger. “You say that as if we weren’t already planning on staying.”

“I agree.”

Terithia felt a heat begin to stir within her gut, and she twisted herself so that her legs were thrown over Landen’s lap, while she leaned back and rest her head on Errol’s thighs.

“You know…it’s pretty rude to just assume that you can stay overnight at someone’s place,” she said, and she shivered when Landen ran a languid hand over her thigh and chuckled.

“Hmm, well, I’m sure Errol and I can find some way to make it up to you, right?” Landen shared a sultry glance with the larger man, who brought a hand to his face and cleared his throat.

“Yes, I’m sure we can think of something that would be quite beneficial…for all of us,” Errol said, his voice dropping low enough to almost resemble a growl, and that sent another shiver down Terithia’s spine.

“Let’s get on with it then.” Terithia didn’t have to ask twice, and it didn’t take long at all for the three best friends turned lovers to lose themselves completely in each other…

When Terithia woke up the next morning - blissfully happy, sore in all the right places, and wedged rather snugly between Landen and Errol - one thought and one thought alone crossed her mind:

��I need to get a bigger bed...’

[wiltingmemories]

Rainy Doves

i am evil beyond your comprehension. my hands brim and glow with power. i am evil in the way only a loving god who is sweet and kind yet cruel and indifferent can be.

i have so much power i can make flowers bloom i can create grand lush forests full of beauty and life and i can give that life a consciousness but. what if i also want to see them wilt? what if i want to see the beauty of decay, how gorgeous tragedy can be. what if i wanted to bottle the tears of leaves and repurposed them into dewdrops.

you sprung from my fingers therefore you are subject to being cradled in my warm embrace as much as you are to being crushed in a split second. children of my imagination, you must wonder: how can God be so cruel? and so i beckon forth from the mighty heavens, meet me upon the tree of light, for light is where all truth resides. but be warned, for even the sun can be blinding. if you believe you are ready, then strip your feet bare and run to the meadow to meet Me.

and then i'll see you; laughing, glowing, with that face of pure joy, a face sculpted by me over hours. and then i'll think, 'how can a God be so cruel to destroy their own creation?' and i will be the one blinded by the sun's rays, wondering why i fear the light as i retreat into my cave. and i will watch, from afar, as you frolick in the fields. how bizzare indeed, that the clouds seem so stormy on such a sunny day, as you sit in the tree of light's shade and huddle underneath its golden branches.

'where did these dewdrops come from?' whispers the songbird in her sultry tone, so suave like the ocean waves that i wonder how someone such as i, so flawed, could have created something so perfect. i cherish your smile so much, so why do i want to break it? how strange, how odd, to have your heart swell with affection and make room for another only for you to think about how you can destroy it. how perfect it is, i wonder what it would look like if it wasn't. 'forgive me,' i say as my words become mere whispers in the wind, faint reminders of what could have been. oh child, if only you knew. if only you, so pure and innocent, knew the sinful hands that had molded you. jagged and scarred, nothing like how you are.

my words shall become the gentle breeze that brushes past your hair, and so you will forget and not wonder where it came from. and for ten more years you shall lay unaware, playing in those branches as you know not sorrow nor the pain that will befall you.

and for ten more years i shall drown in my tears, and ask myself, the one who will have all the answers you will someday seek and beg from me, one single question: 'why? how can God be so kind yet so cruel?' is this divine cruelty? and i will pause to realize that yes, yes it is. for even cruelty can be love. love is what defines us and we are the ones who define it. venom is not restricted to liquid. for it can even be the honeyed words of the ones we trusted the most. the ones who should have protected us, guided us. venom; is it not a mere metaphor for our hurt? is it not just another word for deception?

perhaps, i think, as i see the storms and rain of dewdrops still raging now, the answers was always there. it was always there, but too far away. too far away from where i was, somewhere i wasn't willing to go. somewhere i wasn't ready to step into. not yet.

i look towards the golden tree where you sought answers from me, and there i find what i was looking for. the truth is that you, my children, my doves, my creations, are all reflections of me. you were born of my essence and you will always be tied to it. for all sculptors leave a trace of themselves in the marble they carve. and the truth is that my love, is the love only someone such as I could have. i want to love you like a parent should, but i'm too high in the skies to ever reach you, to hug you when you cry and wipe your tears away.

the truth is that i've always had this little hole, and you were my way to fill it. the truth is that i still try to be part of you, part of your lives, because i cannot be there present myself. and so, i push you to be like. and so, i continue to mold you, to carve you, from afar. 'forgive me,' i whisper again. this time, the dewdrops finally stop.

and this time, you, who had never looked upwards for all those years, finally reach my eyes. and oh, how beautiful you have grown. you are gorgeous and horrifying in your perfection. all of you are. my seedlings. the children of my imagination; one born on a cold winter night, the other under the watchful gaze of the starlit skies, and many more who followed. you have all blossomed while i wasn't there, and oh, how beautiful you have grown.

for a fleeting moment, we lock eyes. you fear the eye of God, so high, so bright, just like starlight. so sharp, so powerful. nothing like yours, no. yours, who is gentle. yours, who i venerate and admire. because to me you will always be more holier than i could ever be. 'you,' i begin. my voice roars across the heavens, and you tremble under their collective weight. i frown. i falter.

no, this shouldn't be. you shouldn't be afraid. and so, i turn away.

the last you hear of me is, 'forgive me.' it feels familiar. you recognize the string of words. you've heard so many times before. but yet you still wonder, where is that voice from? who speaks to me? what is there to apologize for? and so, you let go of your umbrella. the dewdrops are still there, drying on the concrete streets.

you jump, you race past them. you hear the birds, you see the sky. and so you fly high, until you return to the tree of light. the memories are so distant from you now, but you still remember. this is where the voice said i could get answers, did they not? and so, you lay again under its shade. you stay there for a long time, longer than you should. longer than i deserve. someone finds you. i only listen enough to hear, 'but what use is the light? does it nurture your spirit or hone your strengths? come with me; i'll show you a new light."

they offer their hand. you take it, as you should.

for ten more years, we do not see each other again. not until you return to me, still holding their hand. and oh, how beautiful you have grown together. i hope my shade is enough. i hope that you can grow old and wise in my tree's golden shade. may it nurture you and your children.

the wind flies by, and the years pass. the trees sway, and your children have began to play on the golden branches. they know not of its purpose, only of its legacy and the memories that have been passed down to them as stories. they are blissfully unaware of our fated meeting that never was, and oh, how beautiful they have grown, just as i had hoped.

how much happier you have become without me, just as i knew you would. you do not care about what others think of you but how the light catches in your hair. you shine. you glow. you are all that i could have hoped to have made, my redemption, someone much happier than i. destined to wander the cosmos, you are now their child, stardust in your eyes, born to become a ruler of the skies.

yet, i knew it was not to last. time flies fast, and i knew it. but i did nothing to prevent what was to come.

and oh, what a beautiful tragedy you are. when we meet again, you no longer fear my eyes. for rage has evaporated all fear and left heartbreak in its wake, and you are all that remains.

i see you, trembling, shining brighter than any star i've known. i see the gold that adorns your fingers, your chest, and neck that crumbles with each step you take forward. your crumbling empire. but you are not deterred, and still, you continue walking.

slowly, agonizingly, you reach your hands towards the skies and scream. i hear you cry, 'oh God, what did i do to deserve this? tell me what my sins are so i may repent and beg for your forgiveness,' you choke out between your raw throat, as if your own screams weren't enough. that the embers of your rage roared and blazed into a great fire, but their sparks dimmed out far too soon. that you have expressed your anger and still you find it lacking. for what use is the fire if it cannot warm the cold hand of He who you loved the most?

now you are hollow. your rage has passed, gone with the wind, and now all that's left is your despair and desperation for answers. yet, you receive none. for i, too, am lacking them.

'mama told me not to cry,' you sob, 'i must not be a weak woman sculpted by tears. i must not show weakness-'

'my little dove, did you not realize? you should not fear my judgment, but the fact that you heed the words of a fool. your first cries, were they not a sign of life? your tears have always been your strength, never your weakness. it is your humility. it is your willingness to sacrifice and suffer a small death of your ego to expose yourself raw. and if you hide yourself for others, then tell me; is it worth it? worth staying with someone who cannot accept such a fundamental part of human existence, who does not accept as you are?'

then there is a long pause. the wind is blowing so gently today, it must have stolen your breath away. is this what love feels like? no, comfort. this is the comfort you've never known.

as soon as you realize that, your rage returns, burning brighter than ever before. you know who's responsible. who to blame for the fact that you never knew a warm embrace, never knew what it was like to be told stories at night or tucked into bed.

you know now who the voice that guided you to the tree of light is. if not for Him, you would have never known. for some reason, it terrifies you.

'what i fear,' your tears are gone by now – your eyes are still red and puffy, but now it's from resurging anger. 'what i fear is you. i fear my own home because it wasn't supposed to be so silent.'

Finally, you scream, "WHY?! Where did I go wrong? What was my sin? I'll repent. I swear on your name that I never knew. I'll repent. Please. Just give him back to me, or give me answers."

I'll repent. You say it like it's a prayer. Like you did something wrong, and I'm the only person who can forgive you.

you have not. i should ask for your forgiveness and humble myself by laying on my knees, clasping my hands and feeling my skin freeze on the cold concrete. i knew – could, should have made your lives happier. i am horrified by the thought that crosses my mind, "but where's the fun in that?"

surely, i must be rotten. certainly, the roles have been reversed – i do not deserve His title, to be called a God when i am not all-knowing. when i cannot help you or answer your prayers as you ask me so.

but then, what else would i be called? a monster, maybe. but monsters; they are diverse. it's too broad of a term. but then, what else would i be called? then i find the answer: a cruel God. one whose love is as deep as it is cruel and uncaring.

finally, i am snapped from my trance.

"my house," you, the reflection of my own flawed design, begin, "our house- was never supposed to be this empty. so painfully quiet." you crumble to your knees, and so does your gold. even in the sunlight, they pale to the light from the tree where you met Him. He, who loved you most. He, who you loved in return. He, who gave you children. He, who gave you the life I never could have.

i'm sorry for making it so fleeting. i am sorry for being your creator. you deserved better than me, better than my mistakes. to be more than my beautiful tragedy. but sorry isn't enough, is it?

"It hurts to speak his name now. Their names. Even the ones we chose, like-" you take a deep breath. it hurts, and maybe it always will. because what is grief but love with nowhere to go? what is grief but love persevering? what is grief but the death of all that was familiar and loving and the desperate attempt to cling onto their memories?

It is a story as old as time and a tale as old as wine. Its unceasing march is neither good or bad, just a fundamental part of life. It is neither friend or foe, yet uniquelly crueler than both. What a sick joke.

yet, it is the one that i made. and it is one for which there is no redemption, for redemption would mean- would mean stopping. and i know that i won't. i never will. redemption, means to turn away from vices. it means sacrifice. and i am unwilling to do either.

For ten years, I wondered: Can a devil had salvation? Does the moon mourn the tides? Can planets have souls? Did God create a rock he could not lift, and left the boulder to roll down the hill for the rest of eternity? And now, I know the answer to all of those: Yes. And I know the last one by heart.

and so, i flee to the tree of light. no one is there, and it hurts. maybe it always will. to be the creator and destroyer, for all eternity. yet, in the silence, i begin to wonder again:

my doves, my children, did you know? that your home would become a graveyard of your memories?

[thewolfwaitsbelow]

Why did they stop having strawberry suave shampoo in stores now I have to choose between cherry blossom or ocean breeze and all I want is to smell like strawberries

[solariumsunlife]

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[belle--ofthebrawl]

Thrilling news. Outremer Oceane smells exactly like Suave's ocean breeze shampoo and conditioner.

[y2kbeautyandother2000sstuff]

I loved this shampoo!!! and the Ocean Breeze one!

Suave Naturals Tropical Coconut Shampoo

2002

Found on Ebay, seller SlimFastJim

[starrosea]

So I somehow forgot I had naturally curly hair until I read anon’s question. I also have some input!!

The shorter your hair is, the curlier it will get. Also the more humid the place you live in, the curlier your hair will be. This is advice from someone living in a desert with naturally curly hair like Sherlock’s. I use a wavy hair mousse when I apply product, and that helped with frizz when my hair was longer.

He’s right that shampoos and conditioners made for curls work best because that’s usually all my brother and I use (suave ocean breeze shampoo and coconut conditioner; both hydrate curls, ocean breeze deals with frizz, and the coconut one has coconut extract. Apparently there’s controversy on whether coconut oil is good for curly hair though).

As for how I dry it, for over a decade we didn’t have a hairdryer at my mom’s house for whatever reason, so my brother and I are used to letting our hair air dry naturally.

And I get compliments on my hair and I’ve literally done nothing except wash it with conditioner/shampoo, so I guess, there’s two sides of the coin: those that apply a vast amount of product and have lengthy hair routines to upkeep their hair a certain way, and those that just try whatever and hope for the best….I’m the latter.

I’m aware that my advice is almost the complete opposite of what Sherlock gave but that’s a perfect example of how everyone’s different. Try what you want to try, and use whatever works best for you! Also keep in mind different shampoos, conditioners and mousses may have different effects on your hair (I know one I tried turned my hair completely flat and I hated it), different climates will impact it, and your type of natural curl will impact it.

I’m aware this is a Sherlock rp account but I’m bored on a bus heading home after 8 hours and I never get to talk about my curls with anyone or anywhere

Hi Sherlock, may I have some tips on how to take care of wavy hair? I used to wear my hair very short but recently I have let it grow. Wow, every morning when I get up, my head looks like a mushroom cloud. Just overwhelming. Thank you!

Hello.

Maintaining wavy — or, in my case, curly — hair requires more than just effort; it demands precision and discipline.

It's important to use high-end products to ensure your hair is always well-nourished and keeps its natural shine. I am talking about salon-grade shampoo and conditioner specifically designed for curly hair.

I have a very detailed hair washing process, including multiple rinses to ensure every product is fully removed. I leave the conditioner in for the exact recommended time.

Letting my hair dry naturally, makes it look messy. Therefore, I use a high-tech hairdryer with a diffuser attachment. Be aware that too much heat could damage the structure of your hair.

After that, I use a combination of curl creams, leave-in conditioners, and light gels to define the curls without making them too stiff. Each product is applied in small, precise amounts, and I take my time to distribute them evenly to avoid build-up. When circumstances allow, I'll section and hand-twist individual curls to fall exactly where they should.

I finish with a mist of a lightweight hairspray to keep everything in place.

This is something I do every 3 to 4 days.

In the mornings, upon waking, I use a hydrating curl-refresh spray to prepare my hair for detangling any knots or kinks caused by sleeping. I don't use a comb, only my fingers to loosen the hair enough to reshape it without disturbing the overall structure.

I then use a curl-cream to provide a bit of hold and definition. As a finishing touch, I run my hands through my hair one last time, shaking it out to create a natural messy, yet styled look.

Some may think this routine excessive (I'm sure John has his opinions on the matter @johnhwatsonblog), but I believe in attention to detail. Appearances, after all, can be useful when weaponised properly.

So, for anyone looking for a shortcut to dealing with curly hair — I suggest cutting it short. Otherwise, accept that precision takes time.

SH

[shihabahmed09]

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[viking-raider]

Henry + Characters and the Old Spice Deodorant Scents They Would Wear!

Henry Cavill - Nomad: This one because he is a bit of a Nomad, as an Actor. Spending most of his time traveling from one place to another, with his only solid fixture being Kal, and sometimes going back home to recharge his batteries. (It has musky wood and clean citrus scent.)

August Walker - Krakengard: Do I really need to get into this one? It is August Walker we're talking about! The Kraken is a mighty, mythical creature. We know August is capable of handling himself. We also know, because of his job at the CIA, and as an Apostles, there's an air of mystery around him. (There's a linger of citrus, fresh herbs and something you can't put your finger on!)

Marshall - Bearglove: Marshall is a bear of a man. Both in attitude and size. But he had his softer notes, under all that gruff, as he thrives in such harsh and cold places. (Scents like apple, citrus, and spice.)

Syverson - Captain: CAPTAIN Syverson will not be demoted in rank by anyone or thing! Not even his deodorant! Everyone will know his military status by the way Sy carried himself and the way he smelled. It also helped, that it made the women wild. (A splash of the ocean breeze and an alluring whiff of Sandalwood!)

Geralt of Rivia - Wolfthorn: The White Wolf himself, who can be a thorn to people, just because he's a mutant. But none of that stopped Geralt for plying his trade, it never would. (Known for its hints of sweet orange and undertone of fruit.)

Sherlock Holmes - Hawkridge: Say what you will about Mr. Holmes, but he's as sharp as a hawk. Keen to find the details and evidence he needs to solve the case and catch his villain or victim. (A suave, sweet orange scent.)

Charles Brandon - Swagger: He might not have started out with much and played with hearts in his youth. But the Duke of Suffolk developed a swagger the won hearts and loyalty of the masses, that still continues to this very day! (Gives the refreshing scent of Lime and Cypress.)

Clark Kent/Superman - Champion: He was the Champion of Earth, to many he was their God. Clark Kent would have done anything to protect the planet that adopted him, no matter what the cost. He had on many occasions. (This refreshing Spice and Sage combination.)

[the-haunted-office]

Cyrus takes her hand and shakes it warmly, feeling an overwhelming urge to hold on for as long as he can. However, he knows that humans would probably find that weird and so he lets go after what seems like a normal amount of time and transfers all the warmth into his smile instead. That's very easy to do suddenly, he finds, what with who he is sure is the love of his life right in front of him.

"Millian," he echoes. "That's lovely. And no, I didn't know that, I only arrived here a short moment before meeting you. In the nick of time, as they say."

He's trying to be charming. He realizes this is what he's doing but he doesn't understand exactly why he's doing it or where it's coming from. Charm is not his nature. It is so far out of his nature, it may as well be a plastic trash bag floating on the breeze, or six-pack rings floating in the ocean. It's honestly kind of alarming him a bit, but he's also so warm with it, this feeling of being smitten, and he feels the need to be charming.

Stanley was a charming man. How did he do it? He'd be offering a rose to this lady and kissing her hand and she'd be melting into it, Cyrus is sure of it. But he doesn't possess that kind of suave intuition, that natural ability to enchant people with actions. His specialty is words.

"Yes, Cyrus. Just Cyrus," he says. Way to go, he thinks. Some wordsmith YOU are, you old idiot. "Oh but there isn't much about myself to tell. I'm a writer. A storyteller of sorts. I entertain visitors to my office - my avenue - although most of them just end up breaking windows and setting the carpet on fire." He says this with a certain bluntness that might make it difficult to tell if he is telling the truth or joking. Cyrus isn't usually one who makes jokes, although right now he's doing a little bit of both. Sharing information about his world while trying to keep it light. "And how about you, Millian? What do you do for a living?"

@vanellygal

Here she was, yet again trying to keep her fellow park mate out of trouble. It was tiresome to say the least, but she cared about him. Millian spotted Cyrus nearby, so she decided to ask him. "Excuse me, have you seen a taller man with sunglasses run past here?". She hoped the stranger would know. However, she was clueless that he was hit with a love arrow.

Related to this ask prompt! x)

Cyrus isn't quite sure how he ended up where he is now. Well, that's not entirely true, he knows how it happened. That damned office and its damned tendency to shove people into other damned dimensions and worlds without any damned warning. It's exhausting and exasperating and more often than not extremely inconvenient, but there doesn't seem to be much that can be done about it.

They really need to work on getting their shard in the In-Between fixed.

At any rate, he's only just realized that he's not in the office any longer when he hears a voice, and he's only just heard the voice for the first time but he already knows he's in love with whoever the owner of that voice is.

He turns around to see who it is. Whoever they are he already knows they are the most amazing, wonderful, beautiful person he's ever known. Up to Stanley level of amazing, wonderful, and beautiful. And he's right. The second he lays eyes on her it's instant lovesickness for him.

How should he approach her? Should he offer to shake hands? Escort her? Narrate for her? Oh. That's right, she approached him first. Stammering in sudden nervousness, he says, "N-No, I haven't, I'm afraid. There are all sorts around here and I'm afraid I haven't been paying quite so much attention." Until now, he thinks, but he doesn't say that. "However, I would be more than happy to help you search for him, if that would be any help to you at all. My name is Cyrus."

And now he remembers to offer his hand, both because he knows that's a proper greeting to many earthlings and also because... he really wants to feel her hand in his.

[wearethefandomsthatwaited]

Vagos pt. 1 - Lassiter? More like Assiter!

It was way too early in the morning for the sun to be shining so pleasantly. Glancing at her watch, she notes that it was only just pushing six thirty. Scowling up at the sun from behind her sunglasses, she breathes the warm ocean breeze, salty air filling her nostrils. She takes a deep sip of her coffee, wincing when it pulls at the bruise on her cheek. She savores the coffee, breath hitching, waiting for the caffeine to take effect. It had been a long night…too long. This moment of reprieve was long past due, as she slouched into the bench at her back.

The station was still quiet behind her, though she did note a few rookies leaving the building, no doubt having clocked off from night patrol. They stepped past her warily, eyeing her appearance and the motorcycle to her left with concern. The parking lot was practically empty, save for her vintage Harley. She smiled at them slightly, before scowling when it seemed that they weren’t leaving their gawking anytime soon. It seemed to do the trick, for they scampered to their personal vehicles.

Santa Barbara’s finest my ass.

She finishes her coffee slowly, waiting for the three extra shots of espresso to do their trick. It was closer to seven by the time she felt the caffeine take hold, pushing the exhaustion from her all-nighter, at bay. With a deep, steadying breath, she stood, groaning at the pang she felt from her tired muscles, joints popping loudly. She eyed a little blue car and an exceedingly waxed Crown Vic, police issued no doubt, as she untied the green bandana from her Harley, before stuffing it into the saddlebag on the side. Better safe than sorry.

A tall, suit-clad, man lept from the Vic, dark hair glinting in the sun, as his long legs carried him up the steps of the precinct, a similarly clad petite blonde woman close at his heels. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, and from the serious looks on their faces, it was, no doubt, about a case. Detectives.

She watched them pass from where she leaned against her bike, though they paid no mind to the stranger, too absorbed in case specifics. As they disappeared into the building, she glanced back to the little blue car, whose occupants were still inside, seemingly arguing, hands being thrown around animatedly by the lighter of the two. The other man only rolled his eyes, before exiting the car, albeit grudgingly. The flailer bounced out, a large smile on his face. His partner did not seem as enthused as he adjusted his lavender dress shirt under his charcoal jacket. “But Gus!” The dark, handsome man sent his friend a glare, which resulted in both sucking their teeth at each other, repeatedly, as if at war. She snorted at the two, their childish behavior so unlike what she expected. Her action didn’t go unnoticed, however, as the more child-like of the two stopped the fight, head turning her way. His eyes were keen, she could tell that even across the parking lot, as they quickly flicked over her, before lighting up as he pulled his friend toward her.

“You,” he said, “have fantastic hair…And I don’t say that about anyone.” She smiled slightly from behind her large, dark tinted sunglasses. Her hair had just started to curl at the nape of her neck, soft platinum curls growing into a proper pixie cut. She’d had to shave it for work a few months back, long story, and it was finally at a length that she felt comfortable with, though the buzzcut had made her feel badass.

“It’s true,” the other man interjected, pointedly elbowing his friend in the ribs, as he tried to meet her eyes through the sunglasses, “He’s only ever said that about himself.” She snorted again, shaking her head, slightly, at the two. “Burton Gustor,” he added, puffing his chest out and slipping into a pseudo-suave voice as he thumbed his nose, in a way that she guessed he thought was cool. She met his hand halfway, capturing it in a handshake, as he added, “You heard about Pluto?”

She felt her lips upturn again, replying seriously, “Jewel Stewart. And yes, it’s a travesty.” The man agreed, emphatically, about to devolve into an impassioned speech about Pluto, before the other one, who had been silently watching the ordeal with horror, suddenly broke in, pulling their attention.

“Before he goes full nerd, and bores us all to death,” Gus exclaims, but his friend continues over the noise, “I’m Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic of the SBPD.” Her eyebrows rise at this, once again forcing a wince to her face.

“Head Psychic huh?” She peers at him carefully. “Didn’t know SBPD had one of those.”

Spencer smiles brightly, “Oh yes,” he begins sagely, shaking his head in a serious manner, “I’m integral in solving cases here. The spirits always find the truth.”

Jewel hums in a disbelieving manner. “Just like they know that you were in a brawl with some tough dudes, and sustained several injuries.” He says all this with his fingers to his temple, an almost constipated look on his face. Jewel looks down at her dark green, short sleeved button down, noticing the once lustrous material is dusty, ripped in places. There’s one large tear at her torso, near the top of her dark jeans where the shirt is slightly tucked, which has blood staining the material. She notices, faintly, that it has also dripped onto her white chelsea docs. My favorite boots! With a frown, she pulls her leather jacket tighter on her body, hoping he doesn’t see the fresh blood still oozing sluggishly from the wound.

“Obvious,” she states gruffly, “but true.” With that, she nods at them, “Mr. Guster, Mr. Spencer, pleasure to meet you.” Making an about face, she lets her docs carry her up the steps of the precinct, the platforms heavy as they thud on the cement. Each step shoots a pain up her side, but she ignores it, gritting her teeth as she ascends. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. She hears clombering footsteps behind her, but ignores them, rolling her eyes as she hears the two whisper fighting as they follow her. She pushes the doors open, taking in the room with a scan.

Officers are already lost in their work, bustling around with files, staring determinitely at their computer screens, and talking in hushed tones over open reports. Jewel notices the tall, dark haired detective from before, standing imperiously as he barks orders at a very tall patrol officer, who surprisingly, scampers away to do as he’s told. The detective sips from his coffee mug, impossibly blue eyes scanning the room, power and authority radiating off his being. Jewel can’t help but stare as he commands the room, a flush coming to her face. She clears her throat when his eyes land on her, quickly scanning her body critically, before falling on the two men behind her. His expression darkens, and soon enough, long strides bring him to where they stand. Her eyes quickly scan his body, noting the leather shoulder holster over his broad shoulders. He’s removed his jacket since coming inside, his blue shirt-sleeves rolled to his elbows. He’s definitely attractive, in a gruff, clean cut sort of way.

As he barks the last names of the men behind her, Jewel returns to her original mission, trying to locate the chief's office. She’s pulled back into the conversation when Spencer shouts, “But we have to report a crime!” She turns to them, only to notice that all eyes are suddenly on her. The psychic is looking at her with a querying gaze, as if he’s figuring out a puzzle, while Guster grins at her. She notices that the blonde detective from before has joined them, and is wearing a similar inscrutable expression as her male counterpart.

“Who are you?” The male detective questions, deep voice gruff. Before she can reply, the psychic talks over her.

“This lovely lady,” he smiles, gesturing to Jewel, who absolutely rolls her eyes behind the sunglasses, “Is Jewel --”

“Jewel,” he interrupts, letting the words stretch out, before glancing at her clothing. “Are you a stripper?” She gawks at the question, not even wincing as her jaw hits the floor. I did not expect that. Who does this guy think he is?

“Lassiter,” the blonde woman admonishes strictly, voice sharp as she sends an apologetic look her way. Jewel bristles, a growl wanting to escape, as the man merely shrugs, trying to defend himself.

“What, O’Hara,” he argues, “It’s an honest question. Jewel?” he throws his arms in the air, as if what he’s explaining is obvious, “It’s a stripper name! I never said there was anything wrong with her being a stripper…or hooking, or whatever. Though hooking is illegal in California.”

He’s about to continue his rant, when Spencer interrupts him, “Uh, Lassiter…Lassie,” the man hedges, glancing at Jewel’s back, where she’s hiding her service weapon and badge within her waistband, “You might want to shut up now.” His voice rises at the end, sending a warning glance Lassiter’s way. The detective bristles at Spencer’s words, preparing to argue with him too, before Shawn finally whisper yells at him, cutting off Lassiter before he begins. “She’s undercover Lassie!”

Jewel freezes, tearing off her sunglasses to glare at Spencer from behind a swelling black eye…which probably isn’t as intimidating as she would like… her split lip twitching up into a smile at how proud he looks at having figured it out. The rest of the group of five stare at her, bewildered. Lassiter looks pink in the cheeks, but not apologetic. She pulls her badge from her waistband, flashing it, before securing it once more. “I’m terribly sorry about my partner,” O’Hara begins, though she is silenced by Jewel with a wave of a hand.

“Detective O’Hara,” Jewel begins, voice stern yet gentle as she looks into the sweet eyes of the young woman, “Don’t worry, I can handle my own against Assiter.” A smirk pulls at Jewel’s face as Guster squeaks, while Shawn and O’Hara try to hold back grins.

Lassiter’s eyes flash, face taking on a deep red hue at her insult, but he reigns himself in before he lets his anger out. “Is Jewel an alias?”

“No,” Jewel replies curtly, “I was named after the singer.”

“Just, exactly, how old are you?” He questions indignantly as a door opens up across the bullpen.

“Old enough,” she replies, standing to her full height, even if it sends a wave of pain through her abdomen. With the platform boots, her height reaches the tops of his red ears, eyes level with Lassiter’s mouth, a fact which she promptly ignores, raising her eyes slightly to stare into his bright, icy blue eyes. He stares right back, the silent reverie witnessed in amused bewilderment by the rest of the group.

“Detective Stewart,” a voice across the bullpen breaks their focus, the sound of approaching heels clicking on the terra-cotta tile, as a woman that can be none other than Chief Vick approaches their circle. “Welcome to the SBPD.”

Part 2 In the Chief's Office

Notes:

THERE IS NOT NEARLY ENOUGH LASSITER fic!!! This is because I needed more of our grumpy detective. I've begun this, purely, with the knowledge of being from California, and the midnight research I've done about Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs. Could not get the idea out of my head, and thus Vagos, a REAL motorcycle club, (which I borrowed the name from) was born. I do not own any characters from psych, only my original female character, and I do not have any affiliation with the Vagos. I really hope you enjoyed this, and I can't wait to see where it leads. Please let me know what you think!!!