#because I prefer to stay open to new perspectives
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astralazuli ¡ 1 year ago
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So there's that D&D class quiz going around, & I took it & was so deeply offended I got Paladin.
& so I have had conversations with both Bestie & Birdfriend about this grave insult & they both were like, "Well... They have a point?" & informed me that my desire to absorb hits meant for others & deep drive to help whenever I actually can & strong convictions make me a bit Paladin-coded.
& I am just so... Idk. It's just interesting to get glimpses of yourself from other people's POVs. To be told that my defining characteristics are protecting & healing others & being incredibly fighty about the things I care about... Especially as someone whose brain specifically fixates on whether I care enough, do enough, give enough... Yeah. It's just kinda wild.
Anyway, I'm now adjusting my self-perception to include the fact that if I were a D&D character, I would be an Oath of the Ancients Paladin & not a wizard & that actually that's okay.
#I don't Believe many things#because I prefer to stay open to new perspectives#& think that a balanced approach to life involves embracing a certain level of ambiguity in reality#but the things I do Believe in?#Oh I Believe them with all my heart.#I don't know how my belief system will change in the future#But I do know that above all else I believe in Kindness#Kindness to yourself Kindness to everyone around you Kindness to nature#The point of society is to ensure Everyone is treated well & can enjoy existence as much as possible#The point is Joy. The method is Kindness.#& if you aren't fighting for Everyone to be taken care of & respected & treated with Kindness#then I am not interested in your revolution.#If you hate the people against you more than you love the people you're fighting for?#You're missing the goddamn point.#(Please note I'm speaking of Kindness as a separate concept from Niceness.)#(Sometimes you cannot be Kind without being Not Nice to someone who is doing unkindnesses.)#(But I feel like a lot of people mistake that concept for an excuse to deny those they disagree with Kindness.)#(& my dudes you don't actually have principles if they only apply to people you like & agree with.)#There is no freedom until everyone is free includes the people you don't like.#While I am not free right now due to my various axes of oppression & the oppression others face#I'm also not gonna be free if we straight up murder & imprison the current oppressors#Trading one oppressive system for another isn't actually all that radical???#Just 'cause you think 'the right people' are being oppressed doesn't make oppressing them okay?#Like I'm a leftist because I believe Literally Everyone should be allowed to live whatever fulfilling life they want#so long they as aren't doing a damage to someone else in order to do so.#Not because I think I think the wrong people are oppressed.#Hm now that I've written this fucking essay on ethics in my tags#I am seeing Bestie & Birdfriend's points...#Birdfriend legit said that I'm the '**smacks others while screaming** BE! KIND! TO! EACH! OTHER!' type of Paladin.#I guess they were right.
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joeyfranchise ¡ 5 months ago
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𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕖𝕟
last christmas, i gave you my heart
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ex!joe x fem!reader
note: (& kinda summary) SURPRISE! i said cindy lou didn’t have a part two but…. how could i spoil it for you? here’s what happened after the instagram dm, from joe’s perspective.
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: more sadness, hurt feelings, joe isn’t really an ass but he has poor decision making skills… etc. this fic is sfw but minors please do not interact with my page.
song inspo: cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter and lips of an angel by hinder.
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joe didn’t really care about likes or comments on instagram.
he didn’t care to post too much either, regardless of what it was, because he preferred staying private and in his own lane. sure, he posted brand deals on there, the occasional game day fit or victory post, but he wasn’t one to flaunt a relationship around… not until today.
the christmas eve festivities were in full swing, and joe and his new girlfriend, along with his parents, were spending the evening together. they’d been to dinner, stopped by a few local places and eventually ended up at a rec center to watch a local christmas play.
when it was over they decided to take photos out in the hall, where the archway was decorated to the nines and the lighting was absolutely perfect for those warm, christmas-y shots.
joe and his girlfriend posed together alone, and then with his parents, and then they each took photos alone. once the photos were sent to him, he vetted through them carefully, selecting which ones he should post.
in his mind, he knew what he was doing was wrong… but in his heart, he wanted to know if you still cared. he wondered what you were up to this christmas. he assumed home with your family, maybe out with your sister. that’s something he knew you’d missed doing since you’d spent the last few christmases with him. he hoped you were able to go with her, that your holiday still felt special.
it didn’t. he didn’t know you didn’t go home to your family, that you were sat on your couch ready to drown in your wine glass and cry over a heart-breaking christmas movie. he didn’t know you were all alone there with him on your mind.
but in a sick, sick way… he also hoped that you were thinking of him, too.
joe posted the photos to his instagram with no caption, but he made sure to tag his girl. he slid his phone into his back pocket before joining back in the conversation she was having with his parents. his mind lingered on you.
joe wasn’t a cheater - nor would he ever be. he really enjoyed having his new girl around, and he didn’t know if he was in love yet, but he knew she felt like she could be right for him.
he sat with his thoughts for another hour before he checked his phone again. in the time since he posted the photos he laughed and talked with his company, holding his girlfriend’s hand and smoothing his thumb over her palm soothingly.
when he slid his phone from his back pocket and opened instagram, he had a multitude of notifications. family, fans friends.
but he looked at the likes anyway. it was wrong of him, toxic of him to hope you’d seen it… but you had. and you liked it. his chest began to feel tight.
why did he do that to you?
when you and joe broke up, it was all him. he knew it, you knew it. you were still completely in love with him. it made him physically sick to think about.
joe’s issue was… he still loved you too.
around the time of your break-up, things were incredibly tense. he was injured, he was in the roughest mental place he’d ever been in, and despite your valiant efforts to help him work through it, all he ever did was push you away. he continued to treat you poorly out of anger, and out of love you stuck by him.
he should have thanked you for that.
joe didn’t think he was falling out of love with you per se, but he wanted a break. he wanted space to find himself again, and though it completely broke you, you agreed. you would never force yourself into his life, not if he didn’t want you there.
he knew you thought you were the problem, and no matter how much he tried to explain you weren’t, you didn’t listen. he knew his actions weren’t conveying that he loved you, and that’s what forced the wedge between you… so when you split, there was never a reconciliation.
joe never reached out to you because he was afraid you’d reject him after all the pain he put you through. you didn’t reach out to him because you were convinced he was done with you, that he didn’t love you anymore.
when he met his new girl he was in a better place, and she was sweet. she was kind, beautiful, she had a heart of gold. she took his breath away, he hadn’t felt that in a while.
they started seeing each other casually before diving in head first, and he knew she loved him. he was getting there. but he still needed to let you go. the air in the room was getting hot, and although it felt like he’d been on his phone for an eternity, it was just a few minutes.
the hallway was full now, people who were in the play and family friends gathered around. his parents were chatting with the neighbors, his girlfriend was talking to one of the stars of the play. he looked around his periphery to make sure nobody could see him click your profile, and quickly he tapped your message button and typed something out.
joeyb_9: merry christmas, y/n.
he pressed send. his heart was hammering against his chest. his parents and his girl didn’t seem to notice. he didn’t expect you to answer so quickly. his breathing felt shaky as he saw you typing.
y/n: merry christmas, joe. i’m so happy for you.
the room began to spin. joe was getting hot. why why why. why did he do this?
he made a quick impulsive decision, against his better judgement. the voice in his head told him to stop, don’t do this. but his heart had to know. he excused himself quickly, claiming he had to make a work call.
he stepped outside of the rec center, the cool december air felt hot on his newly flushed skin. he closed the instagram app, clicking on the phone app and dialing your number. ring ring ring.
you answered.
“um… joe?” you asked. your voice sounded groggy, like you’d just fallen asleep.
“fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i called.” he admitted. he ran his hand over his face.
“are you— is everything okay?”
“it’s fine. i’m… fuck. i’m sorry. i hope you’re having a good holiday. i guess it just feels weird not to be with you.” he doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. in the building behind him, his girlfriend is laughing with his parents. she’s having a lovely holiday. and joe’s outside, on the phone with his ex.
“it is weird. but it seemed like you were having a good night based on your post. go back to whatever you were doing, please. i can’t do this.” he heard your voice crack. he imagined your face. he knew your hand was probably clamped over your mouth, he heard you start to cry.
“fuck, y/n. i’m so sorry.” he says. he feels like he’s going to cry too.
“don’t be upset for me, joey. you’ve got a beautiful girl in there. i saw the love in your eyes in those photos. don’t fumble this one, okay 9?” you told him through tears. hearing you call him that felt like a slap right across the cheek. he missed what you used to have.
he felt sickly. he knew he was probably as white as a ghost. you were right… but he needed the closure.
“thank you, y/n. i hope you’re doing well… and uh, it was good to hear your voice.” he said, scratching at the back of his head lightly.
“yours too, joe.” you said, and then you hung up. he heard the door to the rec center open and turned around, coming face to face with his girlfriend.
“you alright?” she asked, coming down the short steps to caress his cheek. “i’m okay.” he said. he put on a smile and let her link their arms before he walked back inside with her, leaving the last of his feelings for you outside in the freezing winter air. he was thankful that you let him go, and now he could finally let you go too.
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all photos and dividers used are not mine. cred to owners.
taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @yomamaslays4lyfe @gazebotori
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quintessenceofdust88 ¡ 5 months ago
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perfect (it's not all it's cracked up to be)
Hello everyone! I promised you guys that the sequel for this prompt would be up by the weekend, right? Turns out I only sorta lied cause it's still Monday hehe. I hope you enjoy it!
You can read it on AO3 if you'd prefer! ❤️
When Tommy wakes up, it’s like his body is on fire and freezing at the same time; half of his body feels numb, and the other half is hurting like never before. Huh, maybe his father had a point and all queer freaks end up in hell. Then again, considering one of his last deeds on Earth was walking out on sunshine itself, maybe it’s not about his queerness after all; it’s about Tommy himself. 
He hears a heart monitor at his side, and that gives him pause; he doesn’t think the afterlife bothers with medical devices, so… So maybe he’s alive? If only opening his eyes didn’t feel like it would hurt so much, Tommy could try and find out (not that he knows what hell looks like; it could be like a hospital room, for all he knows). He tries it anyway, letting out a grunt as it, indeed, hurts like a bitch. 
“Oh my God, you’re awake!” A voice says to his right side, and yeah, now Tommy’s pretty sure he’s not in hell. Evan Buckley doesn’t belong in hell, not even as part of Tommy’s eternal torture. 
As his vision clears, Tommy sees Evan is on a chair by his side, and he looks… Rough. There’s stubble covering his cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He’s looking at Tommy with despair clearly written in his permanently wet eyes, as if he’s afraid Tommy will disappear if he looks away. And to Tommy, it’s still instinct to comfort Evan, to try and find something to say that’ll make him feel better.
“You found your present” He says dumbly, his eyes not leaving the burgundy hoodie that’s so beautifully wrapped around Evan’s frame, making him look as cozy and adorable as Tommy expected. And, well. It might not have been the smartest thing to say, but he supposes there’s a lot of morphine going through his body right now. 
“Well, yeah, after you told my sister where it was as your helicopter crashed? After you wished me Merry Christmas and Happy New Year as your parting words?! It wasn’t so difficult” He answers with a somewhat hysterical chuckle. “What the hell, Tommy?! You’re too much of a coward to actually let yourself be loved and see a future with me, but not to send a farewell message to me through dispatch?! You’re unbelievable!”
“Buck…” He starts, but it’s clear he won’t get to say anything this time. For one, his brain is still working a little too slow to translate thoughts into words. Evan seems to notice it, and lets out a defeated sigh. 
“We… We’ll talk later, ok? Let’s get a doctor to check on you first. Sorry, that should have been the first thing I did” He says grumpily, and presses the button by Tommy’s bed. 
From them on, it’s a flutter of doctors and nurses, and Tommy learns the extent of the damage: a broken femur, at least five crushed ribs and a small concussion, not to mention the thousand bruises that turned his whole left side black and blue; he hasn’t looked at a mirror yet, but it can’t be pretty. 
“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen the other guy, doc” He attempts to joke, and Evan’s scoff and the doctor’s exasperated look make it clear it wasn’t his best attempt. “So, let’s talk business, doc. Will I fly again?” Tommy asks, because that’s the question that matters the most. 
He realizes with a treacherous skip to his heart that Evan looks as interested in the answer as Tommy himself. During the whole time the doctor is talking to him about treatments and physical therapy and his perspective to get back to work, he stays by his side, nodding attentively at everything the doctor says (as if he’ll be involved in your treatment, a hopeful part of his brain that should have quieted down weeks ago supplies, and Tommy does his best not to listen to it, because it’ll hurt so bad when it’s not the case). 
When the doctor makes it clear that Tommy will not go back to the air for at least six months, Evan squeezes his hand and gives him a look of solidarity that goes a long way to make it not feel like the end of the world. And when the nurse comes to up Tommy’s dosage of morphine and redress his wounds, he doesn’t let go of his hand. Tommy wants to say something, anything, but he’s received a lot of information and the morphine running through his veins makes it difficult to put his thoughts into words. But he doesn’t want to fall asleep; he doesn’t want to let Evan go. 
“Sleep, Tommy” Evan tells him in a firm tone. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Then we’ll talk”
It sounds too good to be true; Tommy refuses to believe it. Evan would have every right to leave him to fend for himself; he wouldn’t blame him in the slightest. He closes his eyes, fully expecting to find an empty room when he wakes up.
But contrary to all expectations, when Tommy opens his eyes again, feeling slightly more like a person and less like a shapeless bruise, is to find Evan in the same chair, only with the black hoodie this time, and a cup of coffee in his hand. 
He’s impossibly handsome in black, Tommy thinks dazedly, taking advantage of the fact Evan’s looking down at his phone to take a good look at him. There are dark circles under his eyes, and Tommy wonders if he’s been home at all. 
His heart does another one of those treacherous leaps, and Tommy is having a hard time keeping the hope from bubbling in his chest. Because if this man saw Tommy at his worst, physically and (especially) emotionally, and was willing to stay this long by his side, who’s to say he won’t stay longer? He was willing to; Tommy was the one who fled, thinking it was about the excitement of a new relationship, but staying by his side after a helicopter crash is something entirely different. Who’s to say he won’t just… stay?
Tommy has to be brave; hell, he’s been brave before, on that glorious night where he took a leap of faith and placed a kiss to the man who had maimed his best friend for Tommy’s attention. Evan had been brave, if a little misguided, when he invited Tommy to move in with him. He owes him some bravery right now. If nothing else, he owes him some honesty after everything.
“You were right” He blurts out, and Evan looks up from his phone, staring at him with widened blue eyes. 
“H-hey, you’re up! Do… Do you need anything? I can call the nurse…” He trails off when Tommy’s hand, the one which is less covered in scrapes and bruises, reaches out to lightly touch his.
“I just need you to listen to me. You… you were right, Evan. I was a coward. I am a coward. I… I don’t know how to be loved. I never was” He admits it, and hates himself for choking up as he says it. This isn’t a pity party; he’s just stating a fact: the sky is blue, alcohol is flammable, Thomas Kinard was never loved. He hates how it makes Evan’s whole demeanor soften, because Tommy doesn’t deserve it. 
“Then let me love you” Evan whispers, taking Tommy’s hand in both of his. “Let me teach you how it feels. It’s… It’s not like I’m an expert at it, ok? I… I haven’t always been loved either. But… but I love you. You broke my fucking heart, Tommy, and I still love you. Do… do you love me?”
“With all of my heart” Tommy whispers back, and he can’t keep a tear from running down his face. Hell, he almost died, he’s allowed to be emotional. “T-that’s why I had to leave, Evan. If… If you didn’t love me back… If you found out I wasn’t perfect…”
“I know you’re not perfect, Tommy. But guess what? I love you anyway, you idiot” He says, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s forehead, another to the tip of his nose, and a very tender one to his lips. “You… You always wanted me to see you as perfect. You barely let me in all the time we were together. But I saw it anyway, Tommy, and I still wanted you. I still want you”
“I… I was so afraid of being hurt that I didn’t think I’d be hurting you” Tommy admits with a sigh. “A-actually I didn’t think you’d be hurt. I… I thought you’d be okay. I’m sorry, Evan”
“Well, I wasn’t okay. Just ask all of my friends and the thousand loaves of bread in their pantries” He says with a chuckle, and then looks Tommy deeply in the eyes. “Next time, talk to me instead of doing a dramatic exit. And don’t wait till you almost die to let me know where my Christmas presents are”
Tommy chuckles, and squeezes Evan’s hand. He wishes he could sit up and kiss him within an inch of his life, but it  sounds a little out of his physical abilities right now. He’ll content himself, with a peck on the lips before Evan sits back down, still holding Tommy’s hand in his. 
“I promise Christmas will be perfect” He says, and Evan shakes his head.
“I don’t need perfect, Tommy. I just need you”
–
And Christmas is not perfect. Tommy’s still mostly on bed rest and his leg’s still in a cast. Buck’s staying at his place for now to help him around, but they decided to leave any serious conversations about moving in to after New Year’s. They haven’t really decorated (Tommy was too depressed to bother, and Buck didn’t really have the time between his shifts and taking care of Tommy) and their plans for the day mostly consist in staying in bed and alternating between cheesy rom-coms and documentaries. 
It’s not perfect. They are not perfect. But they’re together, and Tommy finds himself thanking any deity out there for his accident. That it brought Evan back to him, and more importantly, him back to Evan. 
Buck’s wearing his new burgundy hoodie, and he gives Tommy the airplane model that he stubbornly kept in the hood of the Jeep all this time. They assemble it together, and it’s not the best, because Tommy’s hands are still a little sore and Buck’s not very good at the whole arts and crafts thing, but Tommy puts in his nightstand with adoration anyway. 
And if there’s no tree, no Christmas dinner, no cheesy sweaters, well. They can always make up for it next Christmas.
--
Tag list: (let me know if you’d like to be removed or if I missed anyone! Also if you'd rather only be tagged on Little Blobs' verse, also let me know! ♥)
@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter  @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie  
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lani-heart ¡ 9 months ago
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|| series masterlist || next // previously ||
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genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mention of harm words -> 1.1k
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abstract -> healing takes time...
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y/n's perspective
“I want to dye my hair too!” Wooyoung now begged seeing Yeosang with a new haircut and Seonghwa with blonde hair. “We should dye our hair the same color!” he offered to San, who only gave him a weak smile until Wooyoung turned back to me when San shook his head no. 
“y/n! Tell Wooyoung to stay away from my stuff!” Yeosang yelled as he now came over with products used up and left open from what I assumed to be Wooyoung. 
“Just learn to share” he grinned and the doberman scoffed. 
“Where’s the tigers?” San asked and I wondered that too. “Seonghwa is currently throwing things outside the door while yelling at Hongjoong,” Yeosang said and I was left confused. We all walked over to see Hong Jong standing in front of his room where the door was open… socks, clothes, and trash were being thrown out of the room and at the orange tiger. 
“It’s not that bad Seonghwa, you’re being dramatic,” Hongjoong said and was met with a can of what used to be soda at his head. “Then why is this place a mess!” Seonghwa yelled as we leaned in to see him lint rolling the floor… and occasionally throwing things.  
“y/n… this is why I asked if I could get my own room” he begged and Seonghwa scoffed. “Please, by all means, move me somewhere else! I don’t wanna clean after your pile of dirty clothes!” he yelled. 
“Copy Tiger!” Wooyoung said while teasing Hongjoong. “I want a lock in my room” Yeosnag suggested and I laughed. “You do have a lock…” I said and he shook his head. “A new one… Wooyoung broke it and there's no key to go in if I leave it locked” he explained. 
“How about you and Seonghwa share rooms?” San offered and Yeosnag scoffed. “Honestly, I’d prefer the snobby dog over Hongjoong,” Seonghwa said still cleaning. 
“Hmm… maybe then Wooyoung wouldn’t come barging in,” Yeosang muttered. “Hey!” Wooyoung yelled. “angel, i'm fine with the tiger moving into my room” Yeosang said and I was shocked at the sudden request… “Are you sure? There's still an extra room?” I asked and he shook his head. 
He pulled me aside from the other three staring inside the room Soenghwa was cleaning. 
“Seonghwa and I share a lot of products anyway… and I already have him use up my clothes and the same with me. Wooyoung wouldn’t steal from Seonghwa without getting scolded. He’s the oldest and would just retaliate by making him clean the fridge or dishes by himself” he explained and I chuckled. 
Protection of the oldest hybrid here… you were unsure but trusted his suggestion.
“Well… if that’s what you want?”
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I was shocked that Seonghwa moved in the same day.
I was busy all day with San and writing my book when I went out for dinner to see Seonghwa scolding Wooyoung. “Sorry hyung…  won’t do it again” he apologized while I saw Yeosnag grin from the kitchen island.
“Your plan worked?” I asked and he nodded. “Seonghwa is making him clean out the freezer as punishment for touching his magazines” he explained and I chuckled.
“So he’s completely moved in?” I asked and he nodded. “He even cleaned, wanna see?” he asked and he led me to their room where I saw… an organized and clean room. I knew Seonghwa was clean but they both had made beds and a clean decoration in their room that fit their expensive taste. Even the stuff they share, they’ve organized.
“And if any of them do come to rob us, they’ll get to Seonghwa’s stuff first since he’s closest to the door,” Yeosang explained and I chuckled. “As long as you get along… I didn’t think you’d ever room with him because of your arguments?” I asked and he shrugged. 
“Doesn’t mean we don’t see eye-to-eye”
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I knocked on Hongjoong’s door with a plate of food when he opened it. “Ah dinner already?” he asked and I nodded. “Done moving your stuff around?” I asked and he nodded. He lets me in where I see he’s completely replaced Soenghwa with instruments and his computer. 
“At peace finally!” he exclaimed. 
“Is this what you expected when you asked me for your own room?” I asked and he nodded. “Seonghwa as much as he doesn’t get along with Yeosang are menaces together. So they’ll be perfect roommates and even Wooyoung and San are clingy to each other” he explained and I agreed. 
“I’m making an appointment for San and Wooyoung to dye their hair… Do you want to?” I asked and he thought about it. “Hmm… what would I dye it to?” he asked and I shrugged. 
“Seonghwa recommended blonde for his white tiger fur, and Yeosnag stuck with his normal hair since it blends with his fur” I explained and he nodded. 
“Hmm… do you think two hair colors would look good?”
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“Why would you copy me?”Hongjoong complained while looking at Wooyoung. He decided to color part of his hair blonde while dyeing his other hair a darker brown than before. San only held my hand as we waited for the elevator to reach my apartment. 
He only trimmed and styled it… it was no longer as messy as before and made him look more mature. While Hongjoong did half his hair blonde and the other black… with Wooyoung copying him a bit. 
“If anyone was gonna match I thought it was gonna be San and Wooyoung '' Seonghwa teased and Hongjoong rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t that look cute” Yeosang added and I laughed. 
“I think they both look good,” I said and Hongjoong offered me a smile whilst Wooyoung showed off his new hair cut. 
“It’s almost like a new look for you and Wooyoung for your first anniversary with me” I teased and he chuckled. “I kinda like the sound of that San said and I smiled.
“What do you guys wanna do?” I asked and he hummed in though. “Oh! I wanna go out to eat in a fancy restaurant!” Wooyoung said and San nods agreeing.
“Theres nothing special about it” Yeosnag said and Woyoung stuck his tongue out. “Says the one who went there more than a grocery store!” he argued. 
“Ooh! And we need a lot of desserts to celebrate!” Wooyoung now told me hugging me. “What flavor do you want San?” he asked the panther. “Chocolate!” he said with a grin. 
“Anything you guys want”
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please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3
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fluentmoviequoter ¡ 11 months ago
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Love (Both of) You More
Part 2 of Love (Both of) You
Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x pregnant!fem!reader
Summary: You grow closer to Deacon throughout your pregnancy and learn that you aren't the only one who loves him. (This picks up about a month after Part 1 and covers the rest of the pregnancy and birth!)
Warnings: fluff, brief angst, vague threat from r's ex-husband, protective Luca and Deacon, labor and birth, more fluff, Deacon sings Sinatra
Word Count: 4.1k+ words
A/N: Thank you so much for the love on the first part! I really enjoyed writing this! An extra special thanks to @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for the amazing ideas and for being so kind!!🫶🏼
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Living with Deacon Kay for a month has changed your perspective on a lot of things. Your life changed in an hour, in the moments between when your now ex-husband kicked you out and when you found solace and comfort in Deacon’s arms. Now, everything is different and infinitely better, even if you’re pregnant and suffer daily from dizziness and nausea. The moment Deacon wraps you in his arms, it doesn’t seem to matter.
“What are you thinking?” Deacon inquires softly.
“Are you sure?” you ask Deacon.
He chuckles and his arms shake around your shoulders. “Of course.”
You look down at your growing bump and frown. “You wouldn’t prefer to wait four months?”
Deacon moves his hand to your chin and directs your face toward his. “No, I would not. Whatever you are thinking, it’s not true. You’re pregnant, but you’re still you. Still beautiful.”
You nod slowly against Deacon’s hand, and his eyes soften as your smile grows. “I would love to go on a date with you.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Deacon replies happily. “I asked if you would be my girlfr-“
You lay your hand over Deacon’s mouth and say, “Just because I already live here doesn’t mean we can jump to that.”
Deacon gently pulls your wrist away from his face, but not before he kisses your fingers. “Whatever you want.”
“I want to say yes,” you whisper.
“I can wait. For both of you.”
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When your phone rings after Deacon leaves for work, your vision is blurry from dizziness. Despite not knowing who is calling, you answer and say your name.
“Good morning,” your realtor greets. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“They didn’t accept my offer?” you guess, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I’m sorry. I did find another house in the neighbourhood; it just hit the market and it’s got everything you want.”
“Okay,” you murmur. “I’ll, uh… Can you send me the listing and I’ll get back to you?”
“Of course. Have a good one.”
You hang up and drop your head into your hands. The dizziness hasn’t passed, and you force yourself to take a few deep breaths before the stress of the bad news can make you feel any worse. As your stomach begins to churn, you reach for your phone again. Before you can find Deacon’s contact in your favorites list, his front door opens.
“Deac,” you whimper as he returns.
“You’re okay,” he assures softly.
He walks to the couch and kneels beside you. The moment his hands meet your arms, you relax.
“What happened?” Deacon asks.
“I was really dizzy, and then the realtor called…”
“You didn’t get the house?”
You shake your head, and Deacon shifts to pull you into his arms. With your face pressed to his shoulder, your breaths grow more regular, and your dizziness begins to fade.
“Listen,” Deacon requests. “I know that it’s hard, that you are dealing with everything and holding it together for this little guy… Would you maybe want to stay here? Just until the baby is born and then you can get a house without having to worry about this. The stress isn’t good for you, but I want you here. Being by your side is- it’s the best place I’ve ever been.”
You nod against Deacon’s shoulder. His arms wrap tighter around you, and you suddenly remember he is supposed to be at work.
“Why’d you come back?” you ask.
“Would you believe me if I said I felt like I should?” When you shake your head and smile, Deacon amends, “I forgot my coffee and can’t live without it.”
You laugh and lean back. With the room to leave, Deacon leans closer to you and lays his hand over your stomach.
“Thank you,” you whisper. “I love you, Deacon.”
“I love you,” he replies. “Both of you.”
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At 15 weeks pregnant, you’re convinced that your baby is going to be an Olympic gymnast. Between the kicks to your bladder and the discomfort he or she can cause, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to simply sit and be comfortable. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been to the bathroom or shifted to find a better position, but it’s been an all-day battle.
“We’ve got 25 more weeks of this,” you whisper to your stomach. “Could we try to work together?”
A sharp pain against your side is your answer, and you shake your head in both discomfort and amusement. Deacon will be home soon, but you don’t want to concern him by mentioning any issues. When he does return, you raise your arms and hug him tightly.
“I missed you,” you say. It’s punctuated with a kiss on his jaw. “And I have an answer.”
Deacon’s eyes widen as he awaits your answer.
“I’m ready to say yes. I want to be your girlfriend, Deacon, more than anything.”
“I love you,” Deacon says.
He cups your face in his hands and kisses you. You move with Deacon until you hiss in pain and pull away. With a hand pressed to your bump, you wonder how someone can move so much in such a small space.
“You alright?” Deacon asks.
“Mostly. Someone’s active today.”
“C’mon, sit down,” Deacon urges.
After he helps you lower to the couch and kisses your forehead, Deacon walks to the kitchen. You twist as more kicks begin and tilt your head back as tears prick your eyes. Whether it’s pain or hormones, you can’t tell, but it’s not enjoyable.
“Let me try something,” Deacon says.
You nod to welcome him, and after he sets a snack and a glass of water before you (which you smile at), he sits beside you. He lays his hand over your stomach and brushes his thumb against you.
“Practicality doesn’t interest me, Love the life that I lead, I’ve got a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles, One little miracle a day is all I need,” Deacon sings softly. “Troubles more or less bother me, I guess When the sun doesn’t shine, But there’s a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles The world’s a bright and shiny apple that’s mine, All mine.”
As Deacon sings, your baby calms. You relax beneath Deacon’s touch, and he smiles up at you through the words of the song. You’ve told Deacon that you love him, but it’s clear that you aren’t the only one.
“Thank you,” you tell Deacon after he finishes the song. “We love you, Deacon Sinatra.”
“Not as much as I love you,” Deacon argues.
He kisses you, and your baby kicks. As you groan, Deacon chuckles and leans toward your bump again.
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Your 16-week appointment is one of the most exciting, though you think Deacon is more excited than you. The appointment will tell you the gender of your baby, which has been the topic of many debates between Deacon and Luca over the last three months. Deacon is convinced it’s a boy, but Luca won’t change his vote for a girl. Either way, you know your baby is going to have an amazing and protective father figure and uncle in Deacon and Luca.
Two days before the appointment, however, everyone’s excitement levels drop. Deacon calls you as soon as he learns that he has to be in court the day of your ultrasound.
“I’m so sorry,” Deacon apologizes. “I would be there- I want to be there, but this court date came up out of nowhere and I have to testify.”
“I can try to reschedule the appointment,” you offer. “I know you were looking forward to it.”
“No, no, you need to go. I just- I’ll find out when I get home.”
“Sorry, Deac. If you happen to get out of court early or anything, you know you’re welcome to drop by.”
“Yeah.” Deacon sighs before he says, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
After you end the call, you stare at your phone for a moment. Deacon was so excited when you asked him to come with you, and now he finds out just a few days before the most important ultrasound of your pregnancy that he can’t be with you. You’ll have to do something for him, and you have an excellent idea.
“Hey, are you okay?” Luca asks quickly when he answers.
“I’m fine,” you promise. “I just talked to Deacon, and he can’t come to the appointment this week. So, I wanted to ask a favor.”
“Anything.”
“I need your help to surprise Deacon.”
“Oh, I’m in.”
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“He’s here,” you alert Luca. “Thank you for helping.”
“Of course,” he replies. “He’s going to be thrilled. You’re good for him.”
“I think you have that backward.”
“You’re good for each other. Trust me, I know things.”
You chuckle and shake your head. Luca pulls you into a hug and keeps one of his arms over your shoulders as Deacon enters the front door.
“Hey,” Deacon greets. “Luca.”
“Luca is here to tell us if I’m having a boy or a girl,” you explain.
“But you-“
“I told them not to tell me. So, they put it in an envelope and gave it to Luca.”
Deacon smiles and pulls you from Luca’s arms and into his. Luca scoffs and mumbles something about being your best friend before he walks away. You wrap your arms around Deacon from your position at his side.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Deacon tells you.
“Yes, I did. I wanted to.”
Luca returns with an oversized box. He shrugs at Deacon’s surprised look and says, “We couldn’t decide. So, would you like a lightsaber or your girl’s idea?”
“A lightsaber?” Deacon repeats. “I do want to see it, but I’ll take hers.”
“It’s not much,” you interject.
Luca nods and removes two smaller boxes. He sets them on Deacon’s kitchen table and steps back. You clutch Deacon’s hand between both of yours as he walks you to the table.
“Cake’s on the left, outfit’s on the right,” Luca tells you.
“I saw the ideas online,” you say. “The cake is either pink or blue, and the outfit is for the baby, so it’s for a boy or girl.”
“You pick,” Deacon offers. “Your baby.”
You shake your head and argue, “Your surprise.”
“Both, then. All of the above. I’ll cut the cake, you open the box, and Luca turns on the lightsaber.”
“Yes!” Luca exclaims.
“Yeah, let’s do it,” you agree.
You stand before the box with the newborn outfit in it, Deacon holds a cake knife over the confetti-decorated cake, and Luca raises the lightsaber before him. With the lights dimmed, you count down from three. The lightsaber buzzes as the light glows from the handle up to the top, and you look from the outfit to the cake, to the glowing toy.
“You were right,” you cheer as you wrap your arms around Deacon.
“It’s a boy!” Deacon yells as he hugs you tightly.
“I have a nephew!” Luca exclaims as he twirls the lightsaber.
Deacon pulls back from the hug and gently wipes the joyful tears from your face before he looks at the outfit in your box. This is better than anything you could’ve heard in the doctor’s office, and you’re glad that you have both Deacon and Luca by your side.
“Hey, what flavor is that?” you ask as you look at the cake.
“Your favorite,” Luca answers. “Because I’m a good friend and a better uncle.”
You watch him play with the lightsaber as you lean against Deacon. This is home, you decide, and he always will be.
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“Sit down,” Luca demands. “You’re almost five months pregnant, you’re not helping.”
“I’m pretty sure you said I’ll help you move in not I’ll move in for you,” you argue.
“Absolutely not,” Deacon adds as he walks through with a box. “You’re not lifting anything.”
“Then let me put stuff away!” you try.
“And stand for hours? No.”
“Take a seat. We can handle it,” Luca promises.
You huff as you sit back on the couch. Luca and Deacon walk out to get more boxes from the back of Luca’s truck. There wasn’t much to move, and your ex had put everything in a storage unit and then shipped the key to your attorney. Outside, Deacon and Luca get another reminder of your ex as they prepare to move a larger box.
“Hold up,” Luca requests. He pulls his ringing phone from his pocket and answers, “Luca.”
“Hey,” your ex greets.
“I told you to stop calling,” Luca seethes.
He stands up straighter and Deacon raises his brows in question.
“Yeah, well, my baby is due pretty soon. I want to know where she’s having my kid so I can be there.”
“You’re not welcome, and you never will be.”
Luca hangs up and shakes his head. Before he tells Deacon who it is, his phone rings again.
“Don’t hang up on me,” your ex begins. “I have a right to know.”
“You lost that right when you kicked the mother of your child out and divorced her just because she was pregnant. No one wants you here, and if you call one more time, the only answer you’re going to get is a restraining order.”
“I’ll find her myself, then.”
“Listen very closely,” Luca says darkly, surprising Deacon with how quickly his attitude intensified. “Do not come near her and stop calling. You’re not a father, you never were.”
“That wasn’t the first time,” Deacon says after Luca ends the call. “How many times has he called?”
“It’s been a while. He called every day for the first month or so, but nothing until now. He said he wanted to be there for the birth.”
“Luca, she-“
“She is getting a restraining order,” Luca interrupts. “Not that I think she’ll argue.”
Deacon nods and jumps out of the bed of the truck to go inside. Luca knows that it’s time to tell you, so he follows Deacon inside.
“Why are you up?” Deacon asks. “C’mon, we need to talk about something.”
“Oh,” you say, looking between Deacon and Luca. “About what?”
“Your ex.”
“He called today, and it wasn’t the first time. For some reason, he wanted to know where you were having the baby because he wants to be there,” Luca explains. “It was the first call in months, but I think you should consider a restraining order, just to be safe.”
You nod and immediately agree. “Thank you for dealing with it, Luca, and for not telling me. I don’t think I could’ve handled it before now.”
“What changed?” Deacon asks.
“Everything. You, moving in. I didn’t love him and I’m really happy now.”
Deacon pulls you close, and Luca teases you about stealing his only capable helper as he exits the house to bring in another box.
“I’m happy with you,” you whisper. “Thank you, Deacon.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he checks.
“I’ve never been better than I am with you,” you assure. “Thank you for everything.”
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The halfway point of your pregnancy passes in a blur, but the five-month mark feels like someone slammed on the brakes. The entire 21st week of your pregnancy, you were nauseous, dizzy, sick, and tired. You kept it from Deacon for a few days, but Luca found out somehow and checked in on you often.
An hour after you went to bed, you wake suddenly and move as quietly as possible to the bathroom. Two silent trips later, you decide to stay there rather than risk waking Deacon. Leaning back against the cool tub, you close your eyes.
“What happened to tell me when things happen?” Deacon asks from the doorway.
“Nothing happened,” you argue tiredly.
“You’re just taking a nap in the tub because it looked comfortable, then?”
“Easier than going back and forth.”
Deacon offers his hands and helps you up slowly. You begin to argue with him, but when he leads you past your temporary home in his guest room, you fall quiet. He welcomes you into his arms in his bed, and you fall asleep and stay asleep. Deacon cares about you, and every time he shows that care, you grow more convinced that you won’t be able to leave him.
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“You’re glowing!” Street says.
You look up quickly and smile when you see him. The decision to stop by the station and see Deacon and Luca was last minute, but you’re glad you’re here.
“Is it pregnancy glow or I’m dating Deacon Kay glow?” Street inquires playfully.
“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” you joke.
Street furrows his brows in confusion, and you wave your hand before his face and laugh. He swats your hand away gently and gestures for you to follow him. As you approach Luca, with his back to you, Street raises a finger to his lips and points. You roll your eyes but do it anyway.
When you grab Luca’s shoulders, he spins quickly. He inhales sharply when he sees you and tries to act mad, but when you raise your arms for a hug, he smiles and pulls you in.
“About time you visit again,” Hondo exclaims.
You smile and hug him quickly, and soon every member of 20 Squad – except for Deacon – is around you and asking about you and your son. When Deacon returns from the locker room, you’re pulled from the center of the circle and into his arms.
“Hey, when’s the baby shower?” Street asks.
“Never. I’m not inviting you guys to buy me gifts,” you say.
“Too late. They’re taking up space in the locker room,” Hondo replies. “Give us a date or we’re sending them all home with Deac.”
You shrug, and Luca says, “Saturday, my house.”
“Is it always like this?” you ask Deacon.
He nods and whispers, “Welcome to the family.”
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At six months pregnant, you had accepted that you weren’t in a position to have a baby shower. Yet, here you sit, surrounded by cops and their families with an entire table full of gifts and more well wishes and love than you thought existed.
“Excuse us,” Deacon interrupts.
He apologizes to Hicks and Molly as he pulls you away but steers you directly to the couch before he tells you why he needed you.
“You’re getting tired,” he says. “Take a breather.”
“Maybe,” you reply. “Or maybe I just need cake.”
“You’re going to end up on bedrest if you keep this up,” Deacon reminds you, though his voice and smile are gentle.
“Being with you 24/7,” you muse. “Maybe I’ll keep it up.”
Deacon shakes his head but kisses your forehead before he asks you to rest for a minute before you go back to socializing.
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“Hello,” Deacon greets over the phone. “I was about to call you.”
“My water just broke,” you say. “Sorry, hi.”
“Did you say your water broke?”
“Yeah, like two minutes ago.” You grunt as a contraction begins.
“We’re on the way,” Deacon says. “Stay on the phone with me.”
“I’m not about to have the baby, you’ve got time.”
“I missed enough.”
“Wait, we?”
“You think Luca would let me leave without him?”
You chuckle through the end of the contraction and listen to Deacon yelling for Luca. He’s calm, but rushing, as if you’ll have the baby in the twenty minutes it will take him to get here.
“You’re amazing,” you tell Deacon.
“That’s all you. We’re leaving now. How do you feel?” he asks.
“I feel fine. Contractions hurt a little, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“We get to meet little man!” Luca cheers. “Hey, did she pick a name yet?”
“A few,” you and Deacon say together. “She’ll pick when she sees him,” he tells Luca.
Less than fifteen minutes later, Deacon and Luca rush into his house. You’re waiting by the door with your hospital bag, and you smile as Luca takes your bag. Deacon sits with you in the backseat of his car as Luca drives.
After you enter the hospital with two protective men wearing SWAT uniforms, you get into a private room before you can even sit in the waiting area. Your contractions grow closer quickly, and Deacon’s hand stays in yours through every moment of labor. Luca is waiting outside to meet your son, but at this moment, you only notice Deacon.
“You’re amazing,” Deacon tells you. “You can do this.”
He continues to encourage you and stays close to you throughout the entire process. The moment your son’s cries fill the room, you relax and whisper, “Thank you” to Deacon.
“A beautiful baby boy,” the nurse says as she passes your son to you.
You hold him against your chest, and you look up at Deacon. He smiles at you and lays his hand over yours on your son’s back. His eyes are misty, and you mouth I love you, which he returns without hesitation.
“We’ll be right back,” the nurse promises as she lifts your son. “Just a quick check-up.”
After the room clears, and only you and Deacon remain, you sit up carefully and pull him closer by his hand.
“I have a question,” you say. Deacon nods, and you ask, “Can I give him your last name?”
Deacon’s eyes widen but he doesn’t answer.
“I don’t have to; you don’t have to!” you add quickly. “I just thought-“
“Yes,” Deacon whispers as a tear breaks past his water line. “Yes.”
You sigh and smile as Deacon wraps both of his hands around yours.
“You’re the only father he’s had, the only one he will have,” you explain. “Thank you.”
Deacon bends over to kiss you, and you wipe his tears before he stands. The nurse returns soon after, and Deacon takes your son from her and holds him to his chest. Deacon may not be the reason this baby exists, but he’s his son, no matter what happens.
“He’s perfect,” Luca whispers as he enters your room. “Looks just like you.”
“Thank you for everything, Luca,” you reply.
“Are you kidding? I’m just getting started.”
He lifts a giant gift bag onto your bed, and you smile before you look at Deacon and your son. They’re both perfect, you think.
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“We need to talk,” Deacon says as he returns from the nursery. He sits beside you and adds, “It’s about what you’re comfortable with me doing.”
“Everything,” you say.
“No, I mean-“
“I know what you mean,” you assure, pressing your hand to Deacon’s chest. “You’re his father, Deacon, and if you want to do anything for him, I won’t stop you. He loves you… almost as much as I do.”
Deacon smiles as he leans forward to kiss you. He told you in the hospital after you gave birth that he wanted to step in and be a father to your son, and you quickly corrected him to say our son. Even before you started dating Deacon, you knew there was something special about him, and now that you’re in a real relationship with him, you understand that everything about Deacon Kay is special.
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With your head on Deacon’s chest and his arms around you, his touch and heartbeat lull you to sleep. Your son falls asleep the moment Deacon picks him up, too, and the realization makes Deacon smile. Deacon brushes his hand over your shoulder as he lays awake. He doesn’t know how much time passes before your son starts crying. Deacon turns down the baby monitor beside him and stands, careful not to disturb you.
He enters the nursery he set up before you gave birth and gently picks his son up. Deacon sways as he rubs little Kay’s back.
“Practicality doesn’t interest me, Love the life that I lead, I’ve got a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles, One little miracle a day is all I need,” Deacon sings softly.
With Deacon's touch, his voice, and the vibrations of his chest, your son calms quickly and falls asleep against Deacon’s chest. When Deacon turns, you’re leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” you whisper. “He still likes it.”
Deacon raises one arm, and you join his side. He kisses your head before you tilt your chin up for a proper kiss.
“I love you,” you tell him.
“I love you more than I can say,” he replies. “Both of you.”
Deacon begins singing again and sways. He locks eyes with you as he changes the song to The Way You Look Tonight. Your relationship with Deacon gets better daily, and this moment proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Deacon is a great father, and he does love both of you.
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keiriiz ¡ 1 year ago
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Chrollo Relationship/Romantic Headcanons
Now for these headcanons, this is where my opinion might really differ from the rest of you guys. Of course this isn’t all but just some of my favorites. I will be putting a clear NSFW warning for when I start to talk about him in bed. 🔞
I do want to add that some of my headcanons would change depending on his partner. If they’re a Nen-user or not, exactly what their ability is, if they’re in the Phantom Troupe, and how long he’s known them, etc. These are just as neutral as possible haha. Even some of what I say here contradicts how I’ve written him in certain ships because I knew exactly how he would act for those specific love interests.
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✥ Right of the bat, Chrollo is bi-romantic, having very little preference of gender when it comes to his s/o. And sexuality wise, he’s definitely on the demisexual spectrum.
✥ Chrollo never really planned on being in a long term relationship or ever settling down with someone when he created the Phantom Troupe. It was just another aspect of life he was prepared to sacrifice. So giving a genuine relationship a shot he’d have to really love the other person.
✥ It would take forever for Chrollo to actually recognize he was feeling romantic attraction to another person as the entire thing is foreign to him.
✥ This man’s charisma goes out the drain when trying to flirt with someone he’s genuinely interested it. Tapping his fingers as a stim while he awkwardly flirts. It’s painfully adorable.
✥ Before making things official, he may do extensive research on his s/o. Background checks, verifying friends and family members, overall borderline stalking. It’s a safety measure. He doesn’t want to risk falling for someone who works for an opposing group or who might betray him.
✥ In a relationship, his s/o would be a source of comfort, especially if the relationship is long term. He’ll relax in their arms after a heist or cuddle up to them when he has a nightmare.
✥ I said in my last post but I’ll say it again here. Chrollo is a little spoon!
✥ It’s not too often Chrollo will verbally tell someone he loves them, his main ways of showing affection are quality time, and gift giving. And for his special someone, he wouldn’t just give them random things willy-nilly, he’d put thought behind each one. Say his partner mentions needing new shoes because their current ones are really worn out. You bet next time Chrollo sees them he’s bringing two pairs of brand new shoes.
✥ He loves to be able to lay his head in his s/o’s lap and have them play with his hair while he reads. He might even purr if given the right setting.
✥ Chrollo can be touch avoidant in general. If anyone touches him and he hasn’t given that person mental permission he will move away, shudder even. So if he’s actually allowing another in his space it really is a sign of fondness.
✥ This man definitely takes notes from romance novels he’s read when it comes to dates with someone he’s head over heels for. It can be cheesy.
✥ Chrollo isn’t a chef by any means but on occasion he’ll attempt to cook for his s/o when staying in. Might as well put some of his cook books to use after all.
✥ The times Chrollo is with his partner, things can be quite pleasant. However he can still be emotionally distant. He often wonders what he did to deserve all of this. To be able to love and be loved. It’s a mental battle he might struggle with quite often in the relationship and he wouldn’t be too open to communicating that, leaving his s/o confused. Just some general reassurance could go a long ways.
✥ I feel like a lot of people go for the idea that he’d like others with similar interests or are like him in general, and I could see potential in that mindset however I much prefer the “opposites attract” trope. I think Chrollo might have a bigger interest in someone different than him who can really show a different perspective on certain things. Or even test his mindset and show him new interests.
✥ He’s protective of his s/o, knowing with the life he has, anyone might try to hurt them to get to him so Chrollo wouldn’t be one to really “show off” his partner unfortunately. They relationship could be pretty private.
✥ Assuming his s/o isn’t in the Troupe, Chrollo may ghost them while he’s away on the job. He’ll let them know he’s working, but no calls or texts while he’s away. He won’t even give a location. He wants to keep his personal life separate and doesn’t want to risk revealing to an enemy his relationship or possibly get distracted.
NSFW BELOW ‼️
✥ Before the relationship, Chrollo didn’t really like sex (as I mentioned him being demi), he viewed the act as a chore used on jobs to get information and didn’t find it all that gratifying.
✥ With his s/o, Chrollo much prefers to make love as opposed to casual sex. He likes the intimacy of being with someone he truly loves and not just an act of pleasure.
✥ He prefers bottoming though is open to being a verse. Acting as Boss all the time he really just likes to relax in his personal life so in all honesty it wouldn’t be rare to catch him being a pillow prince in bed.
✥ Chrollo’s not the biggest cock wise, probably just reaching average. He’s uncut being from Meteor City but trust and believe he keeps that shit clean with his pubic hair trimmed.
✥ He’ll almost never out right ask for sex, he’s honestly fine if his partner doesn’t have any interest in the act either. Though if they make a move he’s more than happy for a session.
✥ He’s got VERY sensitive nipples. Give them a little tug with your teeth and he’ll mewl.
✥ Aftercare is always a given between him and his s/o. If Chrollo just got done bottoming, cuddles and praise are a must. He’d especially melt if given a massage.
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silenzahra ¡ 2 months ago
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Okay, my friend. Since you said it would be okay to send you more asks, here I am!😁
I'd like to know your answers to 5 and 15.
And... this one may be a bit too much to ask and it's totally okay if you say no (with your 23 WIPs I can't blame ya for preferring to just focus on them instead lol), but in case you'd like to treat this as a fun quick challenge, can I add 1 and ask for Mario's POV for part of your fic An electrical aura?🥺🙏 Like, the beginning when he and Luigi are separated, before he gets knocked out.
No problem if you choose to only answer the first two. And let me add another reminder that it's always okay to take as much time as you need, and it's especially understandable if you take a bit longer in case you accept that last request as well❤️
Based on this fanfic ask game ✨
Yayyyy I'm so glad that you sent a second ask for this game, my beloved @megamagimugi! 😄💖
First of all, I'm sorry that this ask has been sitting in my drafts for about three weeks, but since you made such a special request, I thought it'd be worth it to take my time to respond to it 🤭 But first, lemme answer your questions!
5. What's something you learned while researching a fic?
A person can take less than an hour to be frozen to death when conditions are dangerous enough. You can easily guess what fic I was researching... and also that I obviously didn't apply this to it or else I'm afraid poor Mario would be an only child 😅
(Even though I didn't add any of this to the fic itself, I simply thought it'd make sense that things worked differently since Pi'illo Island is a fictional place that exists supposedly in another universe. So some things can work like they do on Earth while others don't.)
15. Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?
Only a couple of my friends, and in all honesty... it's not a subject I talk about with them that much 😅 As for my family, they have no idea, and I'd prefer it to stay this way lol (they already think I'm weird enough 💀).
1 - Write a scene from An electrical aura in Mario's POV.
Okay, Mugi. THIS is what has taken me longer. Not only because I've been busy, but also because I wanted to do this fic and our dear Mario justice, and write his perspective in a way that would be interesting.
And, taking into account what day is today (at least at our end hehe), I thought this would be the perfect chance to celebrate Mar10 Day and also...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR MUGI 🎂🎉🎊🥳🎁
I sincerely hope you'll enjoy this story! Thank you so much for sending this question, my beloved lost twin, as I've had SO MUCH FUN writing this 🤩❤️
@bberetd (if/when you can/want, my beloved bestie 🫂💖), @vulpixfairy1985 @pepperycar @smokszyvverstar @dragon-fly34 @luigixfanxayjay @eleventhhourfactor Tagging you in case you'd like to read this new perspective I wrote for one of my fics! 💖 (The original, full fic is right here, btw).
⚡ An electrical aura (Mario) ❤️
Mario doesn't like being separated from his brother.
It was hard enough having to watch that mechanical arm taking away the barrel Luigi had gotten into to try to help him unblock the door that would open up a new access for them in the mysterious Woohoo Hooniversity. Mario swallows hard as he remembers how his heart threatened to leap out of his body when his twin was snatched from his side and how his soul shrank at the shriek of alarm that Luigi emitted from inside the barrel.
This time, however, at least Mario has the comfort and relief of knowing that his little brother has freedom of movement, even if it has to be inside a building that has forced them to be separated.
The moment they came across that first barred door, Mario immediately understood, his heart heavy in his chest, that he was going to have to stay on this side while his sibling crossed it without him being able to follow. With his eyes shining with consternation at their imminent separation, Mario turned to Luigi. Coming face to face with his brother's glance, filled with the same feeling, Mario hastened to put on one of his many masks and composed a reassuring smile, berating himself for having shown, even if only for a second, discouragement in front of his twin.
It's not that he doesn't trust him. Of course he trusts Luigi's abilities. His younger sibling is agile, fast, intelligent and much braver than he himself believes. Mario has no doubt that he’ll be able to overcome any challenge, with or without his help.
He simply hates the idea of losing sight of Luigi for more than a few minutes, especially when they are in a hostile environment.
Sighing, the plumber puts a hand to his chest, which feels warm, serene and at peace at having recalled his brother in his mind. Luigi always has this effect on him, and at times like this, when everything around him is ice, Mario appreciates it more than ever.
Joke’s End really is a graveyard, inhospitable, cold and inhabited only by vermin. And by that strange blue girl who carries a scepter, although they haven't had much chance to interact with her. In all the time they’ve been traveling through the Beanbean Kingdom, neither of the brothers had heard of that girl who apparently lives alone in the most deserted and unpleasant place in the country. Why would she choose a place like this when the nation has beautiful, captivating areas like, for example, Chucklehuck Woods, Little Fungitown or Gwarhar Lagoon? Mario can't make sense of it. What he most wants right now is to leave this place, his hand holding his twin’s tightly, and never return.
But, at the moment, Mario remembers as he hugs himself, they have a mission to accomplish. He can’t worry about how tremendously alone he feels right now. Even though the sensation of loneliness is greater and more overwhelming than on all the previous occasions he’s experienced it in his life.
He just hopes he's nearing the end. He’s followed every rule and met every challenge as he came across them. He hasn’t tried to stray from the path that the place itself was indicating to him, despite having been tempted to try quite often. Also, after so long, he has once again fought his enemies alone, which felt strangely... alien. He doesn’t understand, as he’s used to doing so given the numerous adventures he’s undertaken alone.
But of course, this time, everything is different.
This time, since they arrived in the Beanbean Kingdom, Luigi has been by his side. They’ve battled together, joining their strengths, performing their combined attacks and watching each other's backs. More than once, Luigi has saved his life, and it’s thanks to him that he’s still breathing... and that he’s still human. If it weren't for his sibling, Mario might have already turned into a bean because of that mushroom he won in one of Little Fungitown’s games.
So, for him, having to fight alone again after having gotten used to always having his little brother with him...
Mario didn't like doing it. He didn't feel like himself. He didn't feel as... strong.
He longs to be reunited with Luigi more than ever. His twin gives him the strength he didn't know he needed. Together, they form an insuperable team. They are unstoppable. They are unbeatable.
Besides, he's had enough of seeing Luigi through a barred door or sensing his presence on the other side of a thick wall of ice and not being able to do anything to be reunited with him again. All those times when only iron separated them, Mario had to be content with placing his hands on those of Luigi, who clung tightly to the bars and gave him puppy eyes while pouting, breaking his heart and forcing him to make a harder effort to keep a serene smile on his lips.
“Soon we’ll be together, Lu,” he assured him, imbuing his voice with all the calm he was capable of and all the affection he felt for him. “We'll soon find a way, you'll see.”
His only intention was to soothe his sibling, as he cannot bear to see sadness and despair taking over those blue eyes that are a reflection of his own. Even so, of course, Mario firmly believes in the words he’s spoken to him every time they’ve crossed paths and hopes that their efforts will not be in vain and that they won’t take too long to find each other again.
Mario has always admired Luigi. His strength, his courage, his intelligence, the way he overcomes his fears despite his anxiety and his many insecurities. His younger twin is so much more capable than he himself realizes, and Mario only wishes that he could finally see it and be able to love himself as he deserves.
His reaction to his older brother's encouraging words, the way he pursed his lips to form a weak but genuine smile, how he swallowed before nodding, fully trusting him and ready to move forward... All this only causes the fervent admiration that Mario feels for Luigi to skyrocket, strong and intense like the most powerful and devastating wave. Bright and radiant like the sun that bathes the moon with its light and makes it sparkle and stand out in the sky.
Steadfast, resplendent and imperishable, like his love for his sibling.
This is what drives Mario forward: the longing to be reunited with his adored little brother, to hold him in his arms again, to feel his warmth enveloping him once more. The desire to keep the promise he’s made to him and to end this adventure as they began it: together.
On his journey along the only possible path, Mario has reached a small, narrow room in which, in front of him, there’s but a barred door and, on the other side of it, a wall of ice. All he finds in it is a block, the umpteenth one, he supposes, as he’s not keeping count, although in the room before that one he’s just hit another one exactly the same. A little fed up with this strange game, Mario jumps out with his arm outstretched and his fist hits the new block.
He doesn't see anything happening around him, but he does hear a noise coming from the other side of the ice wall on his left. He assumes that Luigi must be there. He’s seen him just a few minutes ago, crossing parallel walkways that converged at two different doors. So close and yet so far away at the same time... Mario’s been very tempted to cover the distance between them with a jump, but he restrained himself, assuming that if Joke’s End insisted that they continue to work separately, it must be for a greater cause.
After all, the brothers are still working together even though they aren’t physically present next to each other. Like a team. So Mario has no choice but to be content, at least for now, with having verified first-hand that his twin is fine.
With nothing more to do in this room, Mario, also for the umpteenth time since they arrived at this place, retraces his steps. He quickly crosses the room where only the block he activated before remains and turns left. This room is larger, with iron fences that he assumes serve as a decorative element, since they don’t act as a separation between two elements, and a large step that he must climb to reach the area where there are, arranged on either side, pairs of ice stairways leading to the upper part of the room.
The problem is that there are monsters everywhere.
Earlier, in order to access the rooms with the blocks he’s just hit, Mario limited himself to dodging them and stealthily passing by their side. He’s not proud of this, but over the years he’s learned to work out when he has a chance of success in battle and when, for reasons such as being outnumbered or having been previously injured, it’s better to avoid the enemies. When he came across that room filled to the brim with vermin and remembered that he didn't have Luigi by his side to carry out their combo attacks, Mario thought that the most sensible thing to do, what his younger sibling would do in such a situation, was to keep away from them.
Of course, he doesn't intend to leave it at that. As soon as he’s rejoined Luigi, they’ll return.
And then the monsters will suffer the wrath of the Mario Brothers.
But, for now, in order to return to Luigi, he’d better be cautious again. As much as he wants to finish them all off, which would undoubtedly help him release some of the tension that has taken hold of his soul since he separated from his twin, he must restrain himself. The time will come to fight these monsters as he wishes to do.
Right now, his main goal is to finish his mission and hold Luigi in his arms as soon as possible.
So Mario passes slowly by the iron bars, dodging a Glurp moving at full speed along the floor. He can’t help the memory that comes to mind of the pain and discomfort he felt when he was poisoned by one of its toxic clouds, which was followed by a feeling of immense gratitude for his little brother's eagerness to carry extra Refreshing Herbs in their luggage. He felt especially relieved to have them when Luigi was the one to be affected by the monster's attacks.
On climbing the first step, Mario doubles his stealth when he spots an Ice Snifit wandering around this area of the room. Instinctively, he massages his left arm, as he clearly recalls the freezing sensation that spread through it when one of them, shortly after arriving at Joke’s End, hit him squarely with those spiky chunks of ice that they expel from their mouths. He’s extremely grateful to have acquired the Firebrand on that little island in the middle of Oho Ocean, although not so much for himself as for Luigi. His poor little sibling has suffered the effects of frostbite on too many occasions.
Mario, of course, made sure that each and every one of the culprits paid for hurting his twin.
He tiptoes. He knows he can do it. He knows he can dodge the Ice Snifit just like he did with the Glurp. He just has to move very slowly behind it to reach the steps on the right-hand side of the room, which will lead him quickly to the exit. Bit by bit, Mario moves forward, sure that he will succeed, his eyes fixed on the monster, ready to run away if necessary. He’s so close now, he’s almost there...
Suddenly, his foot hits a piece of ice protruding from the floor. Mario screams and falls, his knee colliding against the icy ground, scratching fabric and flesh and making him wince. At the same time, his neck hits the edge of the step he intended to climb, which makes him realize that he’s actually come nearer than he thought and was so close to succeeding.
Mario groans and massages his neck while he tries to lift his leg so as to keep it away from the floor. He clings to the step in an attempt to get up, as he’s sure he’s going to have to run despite his hurt knee. At this point, he has no doubt all monsters in the room must have turned to him.
He won’t let it stop him.
With an enormous effort, Mario manages to get back on his feet, but he can’t put any weight on his injured leg. As he suspected, when he looks around, he realizes that the attention of the Glurp and the Ice Snifit is focused on him, and he’s sure that the rest of the vermin that he hasn’t seen yet must also be staring at him.
Whether he likes it or not, he has to flee. He can’t fight with a wounded knee.
Immediately, the plumber turns towards the step he had just reached, determined to climb it and escape no matter what.
He jolts as he realizes that there’s already something, or someone, on said step.
A Clumph, with its green skin that makes him think of a nurse’s uniform and its purple hair that reminds him of a bunch of grapes.
With eyes wide open, Mario takes a step back as he notices the heavy club that it carries everywhere... and that it’s lifting at full speed.
The impact against his forehead takes him so by surprise that he lets out a high-pitched scream, which is abruptly cut off when the implacable darkness takes hold of him.
Mario sees nothing. He hears nothing. He’s completely lost control over his body, which feels far away and out of reach. Does he even still have a body? He doesn't understand what’s happening to him, nor is he sure he wants to find out.
As, despite everything, despite his daze and his dulled senses, Mario experiences a soothing feeling of... placidity. Comfort. Darkness envelops his soul like a warm blanket protecting him from all the evils that could ravage his body. Why not stay here, curled up and cozy, while he rests after his arduous adventure?
Still, even though at first he tries to ignore it, Mario perceives there’s something deep in his heart, pulling at him.
It's like a thread, thin but solid, that somehow connects him to something… or maybe someone? Mario doesn't know, and at the moment he doesn't want to think about it. He feels so comfortable in the arms of darkness, with no trace of pain, discomfort or pressure...
He'll only stay a little while, he promises the thread that pulls at his heart. Just a few minutes...
Mario is unaware of how much time has passed when, to his surprise, he realizes that he’s sensing something. Something physical. Are those... an arm and a hand? Real, human ones? Does he have a body again? How else could he perceive the hand that lovingly and carefully cradles his head, and the arm, slender but strong, that envelopes and embraces him as if trying to protect him from any harm?
Then he discerns something else. Something... electric, as if he were surrounded by an electrical aura that, nevertheless, makes him feel at peace. Safe. Secure.
Somehow, Mario knows that this electricity doesn’t pose a danger to him.
In a way, there’s a hint of familiarity in both things, but the darkness is still too tempting, too alluring. Mario is about to ignore the touch and that electrical aura to return to his refuge when, suddenly, he stops perceiving them.
And he feels empty.
Something is missing. That hand, that arm... He needs them to touch him again. He needs to revel in the warmth and peace they arise in him, so different from the sensations he experiences when blackness embraces him.
He doesn't want to return to it.
He realizes at this very moment that the grip of darkness cannot provide him with everything that this human touch, in just a few seconds, has given him. Warmth? How could he have sensed warmth when the darkness is cold as ice? Nothing can compare with human warmth, the kind he felt when those arms held him tightly, protectively…
… affectionately.
Mario takes a deep breath, which suddenly reminds him that he has lungs. He has hands and feet. He has a heart that continues to beat in his chest, keeping him clinging to life. He has a body that still belongs to him and that someone, and he’s convinced that he’s right in his assumption, cradled and embraced with love just a few moments ago.
Unfortunately, with this revelation comes pain.
It hits him unexpectedly, drilling into his skull and making him squeeze his eyes, which he doesn't remember shutting. He feels like a pressure cooker is going to explode inside his head, and it’s as if his neck and knee were being torn from the inside. He tries not to move, to give himself a few seconds to get his bearings, to take slow breaths, but the pain won't go away. Mario curses himself for his weakness. How could he have been so clumsy as to let himself be defeated so easily?
At least, he thinks as he attempts to focus on the other things he can perceive, he feels something soft and fluffy under his head. He imagines it must be his hat, as he notices that his hair is not covered, and he promptly deduces who must have placed the garment there to try to provide him with some comfort in the midst of his pain.
Suddenly, his ears, which are becoming less and less deaf, catch something that makes him open his eyes a crack: thunder.
Thunder? Is a storm brewing overhead?
He’s met by the blinding glare of ice, which forces him to squeeze his eyelids tightly shut before daring to open them again. His glassy gaze gradually comes into focus, and then he spots the glints of blue and green energy dancing in front of his field of vision.
Confused, Mario opens his eyes fully, believing that perhaps the blow to the head that has robbed him of his consciousness is causing him to hallucinate. But no matter how much he blinks, squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, the electric flashes are still there.
Until, before his astonished glance, they begin to turn into powerful, sparkling lightning accompanied by... a scream.
It’s a loud, earthshaking, heart-rending scream, full of rage and fear that Mario believes that, if he tried, he could touch them with his hands. It’s so sudden and unexpected that it brings him entirely back to reality. It’s so rampant, intense and thunderous that it penetrates to the very depths of his soul and clings to it with desperation.
Bewildered, Mario tries to move. He wants to understand what’s going on, to remember exactly where he is and what he was doing, to find out if the person who’s shouting is the same one who, minutes ago, was holding him in their arms with infinite love and tenderness.
His body, however, protests. Mario lets out a soft groan as he realizes that he’s going to need help to get up. Still, he’s never been one to give up easily, so, stubbornly, he squeezes his eyelids again and begins to turn his head. He ignores the stabbing pain in his neck and the strong dizziness that overwhelms him with the movement and, obstinately, opens his eyes slowly. It takes him a couple of blinks to focus his gaze again, but as soon as he does, he forgets the pain.
Just as he suspected, there he is.
The person who was hugging him a moment ago. Who made him feel a sensation of warmth thanks to the electricity that emanated from him. Who placed his hat under his head to try to save him from some discomfort, always taking care of him, always watching over him. Who has woken him up completely with his outraging scream... and with the incredible electrical storm that springs from his outstretched hands.
Luigi.
Of course it's him.
Mario smiles as his suspicions are confirmed, but, despite the relief that floods him with the realization that his little brother is safe and sound, his attention is immediately drawn to the electricity that Luigi is unleashing. Mario lets out an exhalation of astonishment at the power of the lightning, which comes one after another without ceasing, tearing through the air, and at the ease with which his twin summons it, as if he were its absolute master, as if nature itself were prostrating itself at his feet.
The plumber is left speechless. He’s never doubted Luigi's strength and abilities, and he knew that his sibling’s Thunderhand is as powerful as his own Firebrand.
But to see for himself just how far Luigi’s magic can go, just how incredibly mighty he can be...
It's astonishing.
In a way that he finds beautiful, fascinating and even reassuring.
Mario only needs to observe the storm for a moment, to notice Luigi's tense and rigid posture for a second, to remember the shout full of anger he has just let out, in order to understand that his brother is doing all this… for him. To protect him. To make that Clumph pay for attacking him and knocking him out in one blow.
A deep and immense pride intermingles in his chest with the fierce and unwavering love he holds for his twin.
Luigi is exhausting all his energy, pushing his power to the limit... for him.
Literally.
Mario feels like he could burst into tears.
His heart beats warm and full, as if it didn’t have enough space to contain his deep, older-brother love. He senses the thread connecting him to Luigi more solid and ironclad than ever, feeding on the affection his younger sibling has for him and his eagerness to keep him safe and giving him, in return, all the adoration and devotion that Mario treasures for him and that could cause his chest to burst at any moment. He gasps, moved, and his lips form a new smile, broad, firm and satisfied.
When, seconds later, Mario watches Luigi falling to his knees while panting, he wants to run to his side, to help him, to hug him, to cradle him, to shout how proud he is of him, to praise him tirelessly because what he’s done is amazing, to thank him a thousand times for doing it all for him. His whole being is brimming with love and he believes that, even with all that, it wouldn’t be enough to express to Luigi what he’s experiencing right now, what he makes him feel.
But, since his body still refuses to move, he has to settle for swallowing before opening his lips.
“Lu?”
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hyp-fixator ¡ 1 year ago
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Misc. Headcannons as a little treat and also cause I'm bored. (Most are region based!)
Hyperlaser tends to like writing as a coping mechanism. He keeps everything in a single storyline in a book that will forever stay a work in progress. ^ All it is is him putting his life into a different perspective. Most of the time I feel like the book would be pretty boring, just a day after day after day kind of thing. Noticing the little patterns around him, noting down what he eats, how he rested, etc.
All demon horns, if expressing strong emotions, can emit sparks and/or electric currents in the direction of growth. These sparks are harmless and are more of a pulse of light if anything. ^ if strong emotions are felt and the demon has injured/broken horns, the sparks/electricity can escape through the injury, and depending on the severity can cause a sparkshower. ^ these sparks also crackle like static electricity, while the glowing pulse going up the horn(s) is a faint hum. (This is partially inspired by horns glowing when the Phighters phinishers are ready, though when that happens it's kinda like when you go into a rage in dnd. A bunch of built up power erupts and the horns pulse so fast they look like they're glowing)
And now the faction headcannons!
BlackRock is a tourist attraction most of the time! With the mountains and valleys, it tends to feel a lot like Banff National Park in Canada. ^ tons of expensive as hell food, shops, ect all meant to trap and drown people.
Blackrocks economy is the worst out of all the factions. Many people have to eat only a few times a week, and when they do, it almost always tastes like gasoline and/or dirt. Of course, with the tourist traps, no one knows unless they move there how bad the cuisine is. They probably steal recipies from neighboring factions.
All of Blackrocks labs are built into the largest mountains, the only way in and out being the massive steel doors.
BlackRock was of course named after the mountains in the region, which are made out of a slick black rock. The most common tourist souvenir is a piece of this rock from the mountains.
there's of course the more mountainous places in BlackRock, but most of the population resides in the center of the faction which is protected by the mountains surrounding the massive city like a bowl. ^ this city resembles downtown japan and New York times square, but x100 more busy and advanced in their technology.
this city tends to only be visited by the tourists who are dead set on going, as it's not very tourist friendly with its inhabitants and the stores are more than expensive. Their cornerstores arent even that good either.
BlackRock doesnt celebrate anything, and is more secluded when it comes to their culture.
At playgrounds center is just an urban town, always resembling one of those classic movies based in the 1970's/80's. ^ the outskirts of Playground is a massive and dense forest system, where plenty of secrets are held. Most of them are hideouts though.
Playground is a heavily community based faction, and it doesnt have many big cities. The capital is one of the only cities, and even then many still prefer the towns and neighborhoods scattered across the faction.
There's also a few large lakes around the faction, so beach culture is a fairly big staple.
Playground doesn't usually celebrate a lot of things as a whole faction, and more rather everyone has massive parties and celebrates with their own family and friends. Party-hopping happens quite a bit because of this
The thieves den is the second most visited faction, and the calmest of them all. A permenant fog covers the ground, giving it an almost eerie feel, though it fluctuates with the weather.
Community is also a fairly big staple, though it's more in business then personal connections. ^ there is plenty of farmland and tons of street markets open almost all the time.
The Thieves den, without much competition, easily has the best cuisine out of all the factions with all the freshly grown and harvested ingredients, along with talented chefs.
The capital of thieves would most likely look a lot like those old chinese towns, but I wouldnt be suprised if theres a bunch of Korean inspiration in there as well.
Festivities are not very common, but when they do happen, Theives den goes all out with some of the most light and decoration crazy celebrations. Most times the capital holds it, and almost always it ends up being the whole city decked out to celebrate.
The theives den also has plenty of bars and pubs/hotels scattered around the faction, and they all reside fairly close to each other.
The lost temple is the driest faction of the four, residing in small towns around a massive desert, usually based around water pools and oasis.
Most of the buildings are made of sandstone and chiseled with delicate details.
Of course the church of the true eye resides somewhere in the capital, most likely hiding behind a different name.
Lost temple is probably the most menacing faction specifically for how uneasy the air around it is. Naturally theres some very nice and safe places and experiences to go to, but if you take a wrong turn it's very easy to end up in the wrong side of town.
markets are also fairly common, every other street has at least a few stalls up daily.
the more populated areas are definitely a little more "yee haw cowboy" esque, having taller buildings and such.
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wenellyb ¡ 1 year ago
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Eddie Diaz is a white Latino. Did people learn nothing from the Pedro Pascal discourse? And does the fandom *not* remember that episode where the funeral protestor refuses to be tended by Hen and Chim, so he asks Eddie to give him care— fully seeing he’s white— until Eddie says his last name is Diaz and his father’s Mexican, but he can channel his mother’s Swedish heritage for the man’s comfort? White people are not members of the global majority, but they do live and exist outside Western Europe and the U.S. (like Mexico).
It’s so weird how parts of the fandom are making any positive reaction to a m/m relationship in this show (that isn’t their yaoi ‘buddie’ fanfiction) into something about loving to see white men kiss. Y’all would still be getting that with canon buddie! Y’all couldn’t even support Michael and Glenn (calling them “homewreckers”). Y’all constantly ignore Hen and Karen with your complaints of “queerbaiting.” Y’all also called TK & Carlos’ (911 Lone Star) relationship “toxic” because it began with sex and because y’all fanon Carlos as some aggressive control freak. Like… c’mon!
I don’t think anyone who is supportive of Buck’s new relationship is arguing that Tommy is perfect. He’s was a fucking dick to both Hen and Chim when they joined the 118. His “delivery man” comment to Chim was wildly unacceptable. No one has forgotten this. Yet both Hen and Chim are *NOW* good friends with him…? Why? He changed. And the show shows the audience this. They show that he developed a great camaraderie with Hen and Chim. They show how he— unlike Sal and Gerrard— shifted his behavior and worldview to accept, embrace, and enjoy change.
Tommy could have been Sal. He could have been Gerrard. He had a good working relationship with both men and both men encouraged bad behavior in the 118. Yet he didn’t. He stayed on and befriended Hen and Chim (when most of the other guys still refused). Because he chose to learn and change and open himself to people’s differences (which likely also helped him come to terms with his own “differences”).
Tommy’s arc is meant to show how someone can make amends, repair relationships, and become a better person (y’know… learn, grow, and reform himself). The general audience for this show is straight and white. They *need* to see white people changing and learning to be better. They *need* to see queer people coming into themselves. These are important story lines.
Fans like Buck and Tommy together because they like Buck and Tommy together, because they like what this means for them and what might happen going forward. That’s literally it. We’re all just overjoyed by having more queer representation, including Bi representation. That’s it.
But there are a lot of “buddie” shippers in people’s inboxes hating on Buck and Tommy together for no reason other than it stands in the way of their ideal porn fantasies (“buddie”). And they’re being weirdly queerphobic about it, too.
Hi Anon!!!! So much to unpack here. I'll post this and let anyone comment their thoughts because this is an interesting conversation.
I'll start by saying that it never occurred to me that Ryan Guzman was not White, until Bucktommy became more popular and some Buddie shippers said that Bucktommy shippers were preferring the White MM pairing and I was like "Hmm.... both Buddie and Bucktommy are White MM pairings"???? Like it never even occured to me.
I'm not here to debate Ryan Guzman's ethnicity, he knows that better than us, but as you mentionned people seem to forget that there are White latinos.
I should add that Americans will maybe have a different perspective but in Europe, there is racism, and there is also xenophobia both are bad, but not the same.
If I'm talking about someone who is White and Latino being a victim of prejudice, I would never say that they're victim of racism, I would say that he's victim of xenophobia.
Believe it or not there are a lot of Europeans are xenophobic but not racist and vice versa.
With that being said, I agree with the rest of your ask..
I love 911 Lone Star and watched 911 casually but I never got the Buddie shippers, especially the ones who said they shipped Buddie as a form of activism, or because there was a lack of Queer representation (which is true) but Henren are there, TK and Carlos are right there and it's the same franchise.
They never cared about Henren, they even erased them whenever they accused the show of Queerbaiting even thought it has several Queer characters.
I remember when they started complaining that Bucktommy had more fics that Henren after one kiss.... but never said anything about Buddie having over 20 000 fics after 6 years of nothing even thought Henren was canon.
A lot of their takes are rooted in hypocrisy, it's like they're taking all the arguments that have been thrown at them and throwing them back at Bucktommy shippers without even thinking about it.
It's very important to have discussion about fandom racism, because it's a huge issue especially in the biggest fandoms but I do feel like some of them are bringing the issue in bad faith. This discussion is so important but it needs to be had with the Bucktommy fandom AND the Buddie fandom. So far the Buddie shippers only want the Bucktommy shippers to have it.
Why don't they take a look at the mirror first and ask themselves why they never cared about a Black Lesbian couple when one of them was a Main Character. Why don't they ask themselves why a ship with 2 best friends has over 20000 fics and a canon ship that is TK and Carlos only have 7000.
And why do they find the weirdest excuses to hate on Carlos (as you said), who's clearly not White and never give him the same courtesy they give their fave White chatacters.
When Buddie shippers talk about fandom racism, all I can think is: the call is coming from inside the house.
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circeyoru ¡ 1 year ago
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Is the Collector capable of feeling romance? Sorry if you've already answered this or something similar😅
I know it's our choice, but i would like to know from the writer's perspective.
This is for {Collection of Overlords}, check MASTERLIST for the work
If it's something similar... I think it'll be the ask about if the Collector/you are ace or like Alastor when it comes to romance and relationships, the main answer is here and the add-on is here.
But, in my perspective, the answer to your question is yes. You're capable of feeling romance and do feel such things. Now why it was never explored in the story up until now is because you take your standing into consideration.
After Part 7, you're set up as one of the sides of the universal balance. So pretty OP (overpowered), just not a top-of-the-world type of deal since you share this same title with Trick. BUT you are the top person in Hell, so yeah.
The closest 'romance' you have of feeling is towards Alastor. Remember you healing him? Yeah, you didn't need to show yourself to him to heal him nor do you need to make your appearance known in the hotel. You being out in the open is a way of showing that you care. I mean, you even stayed and started a new project of yours. Your favouritism is 'love', but I didn't show it as obviously because the focus group this time included other Overlords.
Your love language here is Acts of Service. If it's not obvious enough. Cause you treasure your collection and their uses. You'd be in love with what they do in your name, like someone is killing for you or growing strong for your attention. Are you a narcissist? Not really. You're not that self-centered or arrogant, nor do you lack empathy and consideration for other people. You're just more selective in your care and attention. That's how you got your collection in the palm of your hands.
Yet you can't help but give more favouritism to Alastor because of his over-the-top devotion to you. But, not sure if anyone noticed, Alastor's not the only one to submit to you as quick, Zestial is the other one. (a bit of lore here) The reason why Zestial and Alastor got along was cause they have that in common. Now why you favour Alastor more? Because Zestial is not as active as Alastor when it came to his services.
While Alastor hunts down unworthy and self-proclaimed Overlords for you, Zestial collects information and assesses the situation with his wisdom. See, Zestial doesn't actually do much to be frank. He as the oldest in the Collection is good to you when it comes to teaching new souls that enter your collection, that's all. Not to mention, he holds unspoken power when you aren't present in meetings. Like in episode 2, everyone quiets down, listens, and agrees with Zestial. It's cause Zestial is seen as another you.
Why not Alastor? Because he's just seeking your attention, he doesn't care for leading the group on or helping the others, he doesn't care about others or giving them a chance to gain what would be his attention and favour from you. Alastor is well aware that the collection has such a variety of demons and personalities because you want demons with different talents and focus. Most of the other Overlords knew this too, there's a hierarchy that I won't explain here.
Oh, Alastor's not the only candidate for your 'love'. There are bits of romance towards Carmilla and Rosie, if you prefer that. Otherwise, see it as platonic~
These are my thoughts. In the end, you're the one interpreting the story and 'you'.
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lullabyalikpoptarot ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Blackpink Thoughts on Being an Idol
I wanted to do this one for them, but needed a break from this series, but now ready to dive into them with this one. Let's see what we get here.
Jisoo
What she likes? (King of Wands) Being able to stand in her creative power. To have dominance over others. To be able to stand in her masculine power. The power of persuasion she may have. Her ability to show her power and creative force. Also, the way she is able to demand the spotlight.
What doesn't she like? (Wheel of Fortune rv) The setback, the stalling, the unfortunate events that can happen. There seems to be a lot of pauses and setback in her career, or she can feel a bit of misfortune in her career. I hear tunneling of money, what does that mean!? Oh sh** just looked that up, my god, it is an illegal business practice people use, let me just put that definition here, it is an 'illegal business practice in which a majority shareholder or high-level company insider directs company assets or future business to themselves for personal gain.' oh sh** she is coming with the tea, this is why I love these idol readings! Ya'll these companies are doing illegal practices with money, allegedly, her perspective. But honestly, this makes sense, so basically taking most of her money.
What has she learned/experienced in the past? (5 of Cups) She learned she would be disappointed. That she would not get her flowers. That it is hard to be positive and hopeful in this industry. She may have faced a lot of disappointment in the past.
Thoughts on fans? (3 of Swords rv/7 of Wands challenged position) It may be hard for them or her to heal old wounds they have. It may also be a struggle, or she can't communicate her pain to the fans. It can be hard for her to stand her ground and stay strong. She might also feel attacked, but she may also not know how to handle the pressure of being on top and people looking up to her.
Jennie
What she likes? (The Moon/The Sun) She gave me two opposites here lol She might like the allure of mystery being an idol has, but also likes that she can shine and show her creative side, or just show an aspect of herself that she likes to let shine. She may like the dark stuff to be hidden, and only likes the good parts of her to shine. She may not like showing her flaws and dark side, so she likes that the idol world hides that.
What doesn't she like? (Page of Wands) Exploring new things, getting a bit out of her comfort zone. She likes to stay stable and maybe do what she knows. She is a Cap, so makes sense. She prefers to stay in her lane of comfort. She might not like taking risk.
What has she learned/experienced in the past? (4 of Pentacles) To be greedy and stingy. To hold on to her resources. To maintain as much control as she can. To hold on to money and save. To show off a cold appearance. To not be too open to others. To hold tight to her career as well.
Thoughts on fans? (2 of Pentacles/The Tower both in challenged positions) Why are these girls giving me these challenged position cards, idk. It is like this inability to do multiple ventures or businesses, because the foundation may break, what this has to do with fans who knows. It is like she wants to keep things stabilized but may struggle to keep things afloat. It is like she worries about doing something with her career, because it may create chaos in the fandom, so she tries to weigh her options more cautiously. It is like she has to learn to make the right choice with her career and business decisions.
RosĂŠ
What she likes? (Wheel of Fortune) The money, the success, the fact that she is moving ahead, moving in a positive direction. This is the opposite of Jisoo here, but things are progressing for her as an idol. There is a lot of opportunities for her as an idol.
What doesn't she like? (Knight of Wands) Makes sense, she can't really pursue her passion and what she really desires to do. She can't really do what she wants. I see this one a lot. She can't really pursue creative endeavors.
What has she learned/experienced in the past? (Ace of Wands rv) Once again, makes sense with the other card she got. She wasn't able to be creative, or her ideas were blocked from coming into fruition. Her answers are simple and sweet, to the point. I believe she is an Aquarius, their energy seems to be that way when I read for them lol
Thoughts on fans? (Page of Wands) She got a lot of passionate energy. She is curious about them, and she may see they are about them to. She finds them passionate, but a bit quiet and shy, or she is that way with them, like she doesn't let completely loose with them. There are also creative things she may want to show them, but really can't. It is like she wants to show them her creative side. It is like look, see what I can do vibe here.
Lisa
What she likes? (Page of Pentacles) She likes learning and becoming more skilled as a person. To become more of an entrepreneur. Being an idol is a learning process to her, to build her career and money. There is a lot of skills she learned from being an idol. I feel this is like a steppingstone for her, but not where she wants to end up.
What doesn't she like? (10 of Wands) No surprised here, it is exhausting, burdensome, too much hard work, pressure, too much on her plate, lots of physical exhaustion.
What has she learned/experienced in the past? (Page of Cups) She may have come into it fresh faced, idealistic, imaginative. This was like a dream to her; this gives me she just decided intuitively to become an idol and go with it. All off of intuition, like this was the path she should take.
Thoughts on fans? (King of Swords) Do they have a lot of male fans? I am sure they have a balance, but anyway, she may find them arrogant, they have a lot to say, may feel they have some sort of opinion and power over them. They may not be good at listening, but she does find them very smart, and they can implement a lot of great ideas. She may also be a bit more logical and rational when it comes to the fans, guarding her emotions and maybe wanting to show a more intellectual side to them.
Okay, these were interesting as I expected. Jisoo brought some tea, but they all had some insight to share here. Hope you enjoyed this installment here.
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whxre-bxby ¡ 2 years ago
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Hi! Are your requests open?
If they are, I'd love to request a NSFW Mansk x reader where he gets possessive! Maybe reader wrestles with another recom and Mansk can smell him on her, which pisses him off, and he feels he needs to remind reader who she belongs to?? 👀
Thank you!!
(This is an old ask, requests are still closed for now. Back then they were not.) Thank you for submitting this! Sorry I changed the plot a little
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Recom Mansk x f. Recom Y/N (x Recom Lyle / Lopez / Ja / Prager / Brown)
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"Barracks Bunny: I Wanna Be Yours"
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Bless the people who supply us with gifs, love you Masterlist
Summary: The recoms have a hard time dealing with their Avatars and their needs. Y/N is there to help most of them out, but no matter how often someone comes into her room, her heart feels empty. That is until she gets closer to Mansk who shows her how much she means to him.
Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, unprotected sex, scenting, possessiveness, teasing, crying, barracks bunny, cursing, penetration, oral sex, quickies, bond through tsaheylu
Word Count: 13,799 (holy fuck)
When you joined the military, you expected to be in and out in a few years. It wasn’t something you planned on doing most of your life but it just so happened to be that you stayed until you died. 
You didn’t really have anything to lose, so when the RDA started recruiting soldiers to leave for Pandora, you signed up for the program. The journey to the planet was the hardest and most unbearable part of it all. Once you finally arrived, everything seemed to be great again. That was until war broke out. It was the entire planet against humankind. A war which lasted less than a day. A battle that killed you and everyone you knew. 
That girl died that day, but her memories were given to you. You’re her Avatar, mixed with her and the Na’vi DNA. Life seemed different to you now. You had a new perspective and you had your friends back.
Before things got serious between the Na’vi and Humans, life seemed pretty good. You were starting to enjoy waking up in the morning because of the people you would see. Colonel Quaritch had and has a squad of highly trained marines. You’re a part of it. 
Not a single person knew the other in the beginning but trauma bonding really helped you all get to know each other. You wouldn’t call every soldier in the team a friend. Everyone had their preferences.
Being stuck on Pandora day after day, working from morning to night was difficult. We rarely got time to ourselves which is why the tensions between many of us would rise. No one had been laid in almost a year. It was easier to find someone when we were regular Marines. But now, under Quaritch’s command, higher expectations were to be met. 
But nothing runs perfectly all the time. This is why at the end of your time as a human on Pandora, you started feeling closer than usual to a few soldiers. Chemistry and sparks of excitement started becoming visible. 
Having friends-with-benefits arrangements wasn’t uncommon, but no one dared ask or initiate anything within the team. One snitch and it’s all over. 
In the beginning, it was all fun and games. You realised your potential interest in guys like Lyle, Mansk, and Prager. To be completely honest, most of your squad was surprisingly attractive. Something which you realised early on. Adding to your secret list, you liked Ja, Brown and Lopez too. There even seemed to be something attracting you to Zdinarsk and Walker but you weren’t sure whether you were brave enough to even attempt to go for them. 
To your complete surprise, they seemed to like you. As mentioned, you would all just be joking around. Not everyone was constantly present at the same time but you realised you got along well with most of them. As touch-deprived as you all were, jokes became playful touches. Training sessions got interesting because many of them would constantly ask you to wrestle etc. Physical contact was longed for by you and them.
Eventually, you notice their behaviour change a little. When you were with one marine, they would frown when another came into the room looking for you. They had their own little petty arguments going on but what seemed to absolutely trigger the alarms in their heads was when you would be interacted with by people from outside the squad. Obviously, during working hours when the interactions were professional, it was fine. But the second a male soldier from a different squadron would start talking to you or even touch you in the slightest way, the fun was over. One marine from the Deja Blu team would instantly come to your side and shut it down. Not necessarily by violence, but often their presence seemed to be enough to scare others off and they knew that. 
Soon, you started to feel like you were never left alone. Always with someone who seemed to escort you wherever. 
When the great battle came, things ended very quickly. But waking up as Avatars, that’s a whole new experience. One which everyone struggled with. 
Anyway, skipping past all other uninteresting details, things escalated when Lyle decided to make the first move. He decided he couldn’t wait any longer or at least his Avatar felt that way. This new body was much more difficult to deal with. 
You were in the gym, doing your own workouts while sharing the room with Lyle and Lopez. 
Lopez and you were both focused on your exercises but Lyle got distracted just 10 minutes in. You were wearing your sports bra and workout shorts. Leggings were no longer an option because they were difficult to put on with the tail. He was sitting on the bench he lifts weights on and his eyes were trained on you. They didn’t leave you once until you were almost finished. Lyle watched you do your pull-ups, admiring the way sweat glistened over your skin and especially the way it dripped down the middle of your cleavage. Your arms which were stronger than average but nothing compared to him, trembling along with your legs as you slowly lowered yourself back down. 
Lopez noticed him staring from the corner of his eye while he was busy with his weights. It didn’t anger him, just slightly irritated his good mood. Lyle is a Corporal and should be exemplary to the rest of the team. If his self-control is crumbling then what can be expected of the others?
In the next second, he saw Lyle get up and walk over to you. His walk was different too, he seemed more tense. 
Lopez rolled his eyes and huffed, knowing that Lyle must have gotten hard. But why in hell is he going to you?
“Y/N?” Lyle says, standing right in front of you. You peer down at him, your head hovering above the bar you were pulling your body up on. He didn’t look himself. You lowered yourself onto the ground, ears slightly pinned back because you didn’t get to finish your workout. 
“Yeah?” you ask, pressing your fingers into fists to release the tension from your muscles. 
You notice how Lyle almost seems nervous standing in front of you. You’ve never seen him like this.
“I can’t fuckin’ hide it anymore.” he says with a gulp. 
You stare up at his towering figure, tilting your head with confusion. What is he saying?
“Just once is fine. Please. This doesn’t have to be a regular thing. I just need you right now.” His voice sounds strained and his body is tense.
“Wh- what?” you stutter, not wanting to assume he means what you’re thinking. 
“Please- let me fuck you just this once. I won’t bother you with it again.” 
Lyle’s words catch you off guard. He wasn’t joking. You knew that by how desperate and nervous he was. As if he knew that what he was asking was outrageous in a way. A request like no other. 
But then again, to be completely honest, you yourself were struggling. Not just getting through the day, but you struggled not looking at Lyle while in the gym. He never has a shirt on when he works out.
Only now do you get an up-close look at all his muscles. The ceiling light illuminates his sweat-coated skin, making him look shiny and you have to take a deep breath to snap out of it. 
“Lyle, I-” you start to say but you’re not even sure how to respond. But to your luck, Lyle cannot physically restrain himself any longer. You’d have to hit him to make it clear you’re saying no, but you won’t. Perhaps he can help relieve this unbearable burning sensation that’s been agitating you for weeks between your legs. 
He is dragging you behind him and into the showers. Lyle isn’t rough with you, but his movements are hurried. You catch a glimpse of his erection almost piercing through his shorts and seeing Lyle so worked up for you has you wanting this too. 
His hands are on you once you reach the showers and he presses you up against a wall almost immediately. One of his hands reaches for the tap and he turns the shower on. It’s pleasantly warm. Both of you have your clothes on which are more torn apart than peeled off. 
Once you’re naked, Lyle groans and the sight makes him weak. He leans down to kiss you passionately, exploring your mouth with his tongue in a heated kiss before he just melts and buries his face in your chest. His arms hook under your thighs and he lifts you up to his height while your back slides against the slippery tiles of the wall behind you. There’s no time to say anything. Lyle just needs to be inside you. 
He is peppering your chest and neck with kisses in a way to almost distract you from his real intentions. He is gently yet desperately bucking his hips forward until his prodding tip finally finds your opening. Lyle knows he’s on thin ice here but with so little self-control left, his hips suddenly snap forward and his entire length is pushing open your walls. 
A string of curses leaves his lips while his face is hiding in the crook of your neck. He seems almost afraid to look up at you because a small part of him knows he should not be doing this. Especially not without talking it through with you first.
“I’m sorry-” he breathily whispers into your ear, but his movements continue. You can hear the guilt in his voice.
“Don’t be.” you answer before gasping when he bottoms out again. His ears twitch forward, wanting to hear all your noises.
Your heavy breathing, caressing hands and occasional moans filter the worries from his mind. 
“Fuck, you feel so good-” he breathes out. 
His mouth is hanging open and his hot breath is fanning against the side of your face while his hips sloppily thrust in and out of you. You’re eyes watch his thigh muscles flex and biceps strain. You can tell Lyle won’t last long and his mind is too clouded with lust to focus on anything but the pleasure he is feeling from you. So to help yourself a little, you slip your hand between both your bodies and start rubbing your clit. Just enough to have your hips pushing against his. 
He looks down as well, watching you play with yourself and it makes his rhythm falter for a few seconds. 
“Shit,” he swears, starting to fuck himself into you harder than before. It seems he likes the sight because he isn’t looking away. 
Your head gently lolls back against the wall and you decide to pull Lyle closer to you by wrapping your legs around his waist. With the next thrust, he pushes deeper into your pussy than before. A low growl leaves his lips and at this point, he is desperately chasing his release. 
Luckily, you’re not far from your high either. You arch your back off the wall, pressing yourself further against him. The new angle causes his abdomen to slide and nudge your clit with each thrust and you just open yourself to him as much as possible. 
Lyle’s hands are digging into your plush hips, holding you in place while he continues to ruthlessly pound himself into you. 
You feel your stomach tighten and your nails dig into the hard muscles of his strong shoulders. 
He is paying attention to your reactions and body language and somehow having your nails scrape the skin of his shoulders encourages him to keep the same pace but deepen his strokes. Lyle is rolling his hips against yours while continuing to pound into you. Slapping sounds of skin have already filled the room and muffled your small whines. 
Warm water is running down both your glistening bodies and you can occasionally feel each other’s muscles twitch after the workout session you’ve had. 
You’re eyelashes are soaked and your wavy hair has completely straightened in the water, resting on your back. 
Seeing you like this is a gift for Lyle. It feels oddly intimate to him and has him just holding your body closer to his. 
“Lyle-” you whisper, barely able to form words. But he knows exactly what you’re trying to say. He’s close too. 
With the next few thrusts, Lyle pushes you over the edge and into pure bliss. Your toes curl, your legs tighten around him, your mouth falls open, and your walls clench around his dick. It feels like you’re almost sucking him into you, not wanting to have him pull out until he’s filled you with his cum. 
Neither of you have discussed this. There’s been no time. But it’s too late now anyway. Lyle’s hips stutter and with one last thrust, he buries himself balls-deep inside your pulsating cunt before filling you with his hot ropes of cum. You moan his name, gasping when you feel exactly how much he’s filling you up. He’s definitely ejaculating more than the usual amount but you love the feeling. 
Your movements still and soon after you, Lyle stops desperately bucking his hips forward and stays inside you for a minute. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, trying to steady your breathing. Looking down again, you notice how some of his cum is oozing out of the sides because he’s pumped you completely full. 
After a minute of comfortable silence, Lyle sighs. 
“Sorry,” he starts, still seeming to feel too bad about himself to look into your eyes. “I know I shouldn’t have-”
“Lyle, don’t worry about it. You feel better now?” you ask and he nods against your skin. “Me too.” You add.
He looks up at you now and receives a faint smile. He returns it, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before slowly pulling out and placing you back on the ground. His cum was now dripping down your legs uncontrollably which reminded him of his other mistake.
“I shouldn’t have done that though.” he says, motioning to the mess he made. “We didn’t decide on that and I’m sorry.” Lyle adds. Yeah, that is another issue. 
“It’s not a big deal.” you reply, waving it off. “Even if I get pregnant, I highly doubt I’ll be alive long enough for it to be visible.” 
His ears droop to the sides. Not that he wanted you pregnant but he hated when you or others would say things like this. Even if he knew you’re most likely right.
“Besides, I don’t think the lab made the female Avatars fertile. So it’s fine.” you add, remembering them telling you that while you were still human. There was no point in it being that way, so they decided to just have you not grow any reproductive organs. At least not functioning ones. But it seems you can still have a sex life that way so you’re really not complaining.
Lyle seems hesitant about letting you go so he helps you clean up in the shower which you appreciate. After that, you both get ready and dressed into clothes while talking and he brings you to your room before heading to his own. It was a sweet gesture. Something you thought would be a one-time-only thing.
Of course, one can’t forget that you weren’t alone in the gym that night. Lopez had watched the two of you leave and also heard everything he needed, to know what was happening. You would think he would leave out of embarrassment, disgust, or annoyance but no. Lopez stayed to listen to you. 
He wasn’t necessarily jealous of Lyle for being able to have you to himself but he knew what he wanted now and it annoyed him that he wasn’t the one making you be that noisy. A desire for you grew in him and once the noise faded, he left the gym. 
With his devilish and malevolent character traits, Lopez didn’t keep the news to himself. He found Ja sitting at a table with Prager and Mansk. They seemed to be in a deep conversation and not far from them was Brown who was digging around in the fridge for some late-night snacks. 
They heard him burst through the doors and Lopez immediately sat down at their table, interrupting their conversation and bluntly saying “Lyle and Y/N are fucking in the showers.” 
That statement shut everyone up. There was a long moment of silence before Lopez cackled at their reactions. 
“Say what now?” Ja asks in disbelief and Lopez grins at him. 
“Lyle dragged Y/N to the showers.” he said. 
“Does she need help?” Prager asks almost getting up, not sure whether you’re voluntarily in there. 
“No, you idiot.” Lopez hisses, motioning for him to sit down again. By now, Brown overheard the conversation and quickly returned to the table.
“You saw ‘em?” Brown asks and Lopez shakes his head. 
“Saw them leave. But I heard her.” he grins again. Ja smirks at the thought while the others stay quiet. At least Prager and Mansk have the decency and respect to not act like morons. 
“She seems to have it as bad as us.” Lopez says, letting his words sink into the silence of the table for everyone to process. 
“Stop fuckin’ around and let ‘er be.” Mansk says in your defence, not liking the way they’re talking about you. 
Lopez frowns at his words. “Hey, don’t get all protective and shit.”
Mansk’s ears tip back in agitation but he chooses to stay silent. Not because he doesn’t want to oppose Lopez, but because it’s not always necessary to use words. 
“Either way, I’m goin’ next.” Lopez adds and Ja scoffs. 
“You think she’d let your dumbass?” Ja asks, raising an eyebrow. 
“Wait until that fucking heat cycle hits.” Brown adds, placing his drink on the table. 
They were told about that before you all got your Avatars. No one spoke about it before but it seems that they have all thought about it a lot. 
“She’ll be a bitch in heat.” Lopez grins, flashing his fangs. That really gets on Mansk’s nerves. 
“Quit talkin’ about her like that. She’s one of us, so treat ‘er like it.” Mansk growls. 
“I was just joking.” Lopez says. His grin turns into a smirk and he glances at Ja again. “Wouldn’t treat her like one.”
“Unless she’s into that shit.” Ja chuckles. 
Lopez continues to defend himself. “Hey, to her? I’d be the nicest out of all of you.” 
Prager scoffs. “Yeah right.”
“I’m serious. She’s fuckin’ precious.” Lopez adds, trying to convince him. 
At that moment, Lyle relaxedly walks into the room with a towel over his shoulder. He spots his teammates and makes his way to their table. 
“You lucky son of a bitch.” Brown snarls, crossing his arms over his chest while watching the Corporal. 
Lyle stops in his steps, a foot from the table, staring at him. As if he weren’t sure whether Brown meant what he feared he did and if he knew, how?
“How the fuck do you know?” Lyle asks, not even bothering to try and keep what just happened between you two discreet. 
“You didn’t even try to sneak away.” Lopez says, grinning up at him. 
Lyle sighs, running a hand over his face to deal with the fact that all his friends know what happened between you and him. Not that he was ashamed, far from it, he just wanted to keep it to himself. He wanted to keep you to himself.
“Asshole.” Lyle murmurs, glancing at Lopez. 
“How was it?” Ja asks, nudging his shoulder playfully.
Lyle stares at him, not sure whether he wants to share it with everyone but then he is reminded again of you, what you looked like, and what you felt like. 
He scoffs, smiling to himself. “Fuckin’ heaven.”
“That’s it?” Brown asks and Mansk shoots him a glare. 
“I’m not tellin’ you the details, idiot. It’s between her and me.” Lyle says, standing up for you. He wasn’t about to expose you to them. The moment was special to him. 
“If you wanna know so bad, go to her and find out.” Lyle mumbles, speaking before thinking. As soon as they leave his mouth, he regrets saying that. It causes a few minutes of silence before Lopez gets up. 
“Don’t need to tell me twice.” he says, wanting to walk away but Lyle gets up immediately after him and blocks his path. 
Lopez isn’t scared. He often likes to wind up his teammates and cause fights. So he cocks an eyebrow in a challenging manner. 
“She’s fuckin’ sleepin’ and you’re gonna let ‘er rest.” Lyle growls, seeming very irritated now. 
Lopez smirks at him, taking note of how protective he is being. 
“Just cause she let you on her once doesn’t mean she’s yours.” he seethes, squaring off with Lyle. 
“You’re turn’s over, buddy. I’m next.” Lopez adds, staring him down before walking away to his own room. 
Once the door closes behind him Lyle huffs in annoyance and sits back down. 
“He ain’t wrong, you know?” Brown says, taking his things and returning them to the fridge. No one says anything after that, everyone goes their own way.
The next few days you noticed the other recom’s behaviour change. Not drastically, but you can feel it. Lopez suddenly acted very differently towards you. 
Oftentimes, he would just hang around you and keep you sucked into your conversation. Then there were times when he would invade your personal space but he never talked about it. He made it seem innocent as if it were normal. So you brushed it off because you didn’t want to bring it up. It didn’t bother you, it was just new. 
While you were getting food, Lopez would stand right next to you so that your shoulders were touching even though you both had so much space. One day, you were fixing the engine of one of the helicopters and he stood himself right behind you, stretching his arms forward so that he was caging you in while pretending to help you even though you knew what you were doing. When he did this, you’re face would go red and you would look away. You didn’t understand.
Lyle and the others did and they were always watching his interactions with you. At one point, Lyle told him off for it but Lopez shrugged it off as if it were normal. 
When you were testing new weapons, Lopez decided to once again hold you from behind because he said he was helping you with your form and aim. It didn’t really make sense because your stance and shooting was better than his. He didn’t have the authority to help. If anyone should have been giving you tips, it should be Mansk. This was his area of expertise. 
Luckily Mansk was there and he was very clearly not happy with what was happening in front of him. Within seconds of Lopez standing too close to you again, Mansk grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him right off of you. Lopez stumbled back, starting to argue with him but Mansk told him off and made him leave. You haven’t seen Mansk so angry before. It made you wonder why that suddenly got under his skin.
He huffed in annoyance before turning to you. 
“Sorry about that, you’re form is fine. Keep goin’.” he said and you nodded, practising your aim before taking apart the gun while he watched. 
“Thanks, by the way.” You said, glancing at him shortly before facing the front again. His ears are released from being strained back and perk forward. 
“I don’t know why he does that.” you say, rolling your shoulder before firing a bullet at the target. 
Mansk frowns again at the thought of Lopez. 
“You don’t need to let him. He shouldn’t be doin’ that.” 
“Yeah…” you sigh, lowering your gun and reloading it. “It just seems harmless. I don’t want to make a big deal of it.” 
Out of your view, Mansk scoffs to himself knowing very well that Lopez’s intentions are not harmless. He knows what he wants and somehow, Mansk wants to prevent Lopez from getting to you. 
“Trust me, it’s not.” he replies. You listen, staying quiet for a few moments before shrugging it off and continuing. Mansk sighs, looking at the ground before unfolding his crossed arms and stepping forward to you. 
He stands next to you, scanning your body to see if you’re standing like you are supposed to. His eyes catch a small mistake. He gently taps your elbow, making you stop for a second before you stretch it and correct yourself. ‘Don’t bend elbows, got it.’ you think. 
“There, now it’s good.” he says with a small smile before his expression returns to its usual blank state. You nod, smiling back. 
Somehow, his touch felt comforting. Mansk never pushed you. He would test you, but never interfere with what you were doing. He let you work and only intervened when it was necessary. Something about him being so respectful and gentle with you made butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you dared not to react. Then again, he was often cold and quiet, so you found it quite difficult to read him. There were times when you weren’t even sure if he liked you in a normal friendly way, but seeing him look out for you like he did today managed to change your mind. 
But Lopez didn’t give up. He was needy and he used his knowledge of knowing your body was difficult to deal with, to his advantage. You get affected by hormones and other’s scents a lot easier now. 
One evening, Lopez escorted you back to your room. He didn’t have to, you were fine but he did anyway. You still liked him. He did seem to be clingy often but you blamed it on his struggles to adapt to his Avatar. In reality, that was a part of the problem too. Just like Lyle had struggled with his. 
He stopped at your door, watching you unlock it. When you opened it you turned the lights on before facing him again. Something in the way he looked at you had changed. He was leaning against the frame of your doorway and intensely staring into your wide eyes. 
Being around you so much made him feel addicted to your scent. Your sweet scent drove him feral at times and made it difficult for him to concentrate on work. He knew exactly where it was strongest on your body and the lust in his eyes betrayed him that evening. You noticed his state and instinctively seemed to know what was happening. 
“Can I come in?” he asks. This time, he isn’t pushy or urging you to do anything. Lopez sounds genuine and if you heard correctly, perhaps even a little sad. 
“Please,” he softly adds. As if he suddenly realised how badly he’s been behaving to you. It made him feel guilty for taking advantage of your kind heart because you never told him off for it. He wanted to apologise but then again, he was really struggling to fight off his arousal. It did seem to upset him but he just needed you to answer, in case there was a chance you would still let him be near you after all that. 
You take a few moments to think about it before stepping aside and opening the door wider. Watching his eyes light up in surprise has you feeling confident you made the right choice. He was an asshole at times but never directly to you. 
Lopez warily walked inside, being ready to leave in case you abruptly changed your mind but you didn’t. You closed the door behind him and he looked at you, watching your behaviour to make sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries anymore. This time, you decided to initiate the first step, walking forward and gently raising your hand to pull his head down towards you. He melted against your touch. That was what he needed; you to make the first step. Now he knew he had your consent so he didn’t have to torture himself with waiting anymore. 
That night, neither of you got much sleep. His harsh thrusts kept you awake. You noticed Lopez was trying to extend his and your pleasure until you both broke and it worked. The forced orgasm denial drove you both to just be rougher and finally, he let you cum with him. 
He gave you the necessary aftercare, laying in bed with you for a while after you both finished. He did care for you, but both of you just needed to release some tension. That’s all it was. You kissed once. The rest was just pure sex. There wasn’t anything romantic about it but you didn’t mind. You didn’t want that with him. He’s your friend. 
But Lopez left after a while, knowing you’d both get in trouble if he would be seen leaving your room in the morning. Again, you didn’t mind. You like him, but not in the way that you would want to cuddle and sleep in the same bed as him. 
Now, do you think that Lopez kept his mouth shut after that evening with you?
Do you?
Do you really?
No, of course not. Why would he? The next day already he was bragging to Brown and Ja about it. 
Lyle saw him cackling and Lopez seemed happier than usual. Too happy for Lyle’s liking. So he went closer, pretending to busy himself with anything else while listening to what they were saying. 
“No way. She let you?” Ja asked. Lyle frowned, continuing to eavesdrop on his colleagues. 
“Yeah. Wait, why are you surprised?” Lopez replied taking offence and nudging Ja’s chest,  making him stumble a step back. 
“Just thought Y/N had higher standards.” Brown chuckled. 
“Yeah, high enough to not let you pass.” Lopez argued. Insults got under his skin very easily. 
“We’ll see.” Brown grins, walking away. 
Lyle is pissed off now too. No way did Lopez lay hands on you. He didn’t want to believe it but then again, it was out of his hands. In a way, he wished he could have been the only one to experience you in that way, but it’s not up to him. To Lyle, you’re still out of his league in his eyes. If what they said was true then he knows you’re just doing it for shits and giggles. There’s nothing romantic behind it and now, it doesn’t seem to bother him anymore. Who can stop someone from having a little fun?
He walks away, shaking his head and sitting back down at his table with Mansk, Prager and Fike. 
“What?” Fike asks, noticing his friend has something on his mind. Mansk noticed it too but decided against pointing it out. 
“Lopez wasn’t messin’ around.” Lyle says, scoffing before taking a sip of his drink. 
“What do you mean?” Prager asks, dropping the spoon of his soup to listen. 
“He actually managed to somehow persuade Y/N to sleep with him.” Lyle says in a casual manner. 
Fike laughs, glancing around the room to find Lopez still talking to Ja. “No way.”
Mansk’s ears have tipped back again. He stopped eating and his fingers tightened around the cutlery he was holding. His own eyes raised and found Lopez, glaring daggers into his back. Lopez seemed to feel the eyes on him, turning around and looking at Mansk before grinning evilly and turning back around. 
Mansk never had a problem with his teammate until now. He had to really fight off the urge to go up to him and punch him. His sudden craving for violence surprised him because this never happened. Mansk was only violent when it was required of him. 
Knowing that an idiot like Lopez had laid his filthy hands on your beautiful body had Mansk boiling with anger. The conversation on the table had faded from his hearing and all he could hear was his thoughts and the clock ticking in the background. Without any hesitation, he got up, leaving his food behind and leaving the room. His friends watched him but didn’t say anything because he left calmly. Mansk doesn’t storm out of rooms, his temper is too good for that. 
A week went by now and you have received numerous visits from other recoms. Brown invited you to his room, saying he thinks he found something of yours. Once you entered and asked what it was, he seemed confused that you hadn’t caught on to the fairly obvious request he had. He didn’t actually have anything of yours in his room.
You weren’t used to this. All the sudden attention from everyone. Well not everyone, but many recoms. 
You asked him why he didn’t go and ask Zdinarsk or Walker to help him, but Brown just raised his eyebrow and gave you the ‘Are you serious?’ look. 
“Not to be rude, but you’re the hottest one here. I’d rather just bear through it than ask them.” Brown says. You know that Walker and Z-Dog would probably just laugh at him, just like they would laugh at all the others. It did seem like he was taking advantage of your willingness to help. 
“So I’m your only option?” You ask, not seeming convinced. 
“No, Y/N you’re not an option. I’ve fuckin’ dreamed of you like this.” he says, trying to emphasize how bad he has it for you. Brown wasn’t being rude or pushy either. He spoke his words with humour. 
You decided to help Brown. I mean, why let him suffer? What do you have to lose? It won’t hurt either of you and you usually get a kick out of it. 
By the end of the week, just over half the team had been at your door, begging for you to help them out the way you helped the others. It was almost becoming a routine. One you would never get used to. 
But one night, you lay in bed and looked down at yourself, suddenly feeling upset. You felt a little used, but not neglected. Lyle, Lopez, Brown, Ja, and Prager all made sure to show you how much they cared for you. But you were not used to doing something so intimate with someone you didn’t have romantic feelings for.
You also had them all cum outside of you, just to make sure the chances of becoming a mother were being minimised.
At first, it seemed funny to you, but now it confused you. The tough girl you are, you just shrugged it off and went to sleep. They were all nice to you and took care of you when you were done. Not a single soldier just left you afterwards. But something about it still left your heart feeling empty. 
To deal with your worries, you decided to try Ja’s strategy and fuck them away. You’re not sure if that will work. 
The training routines continued and you were told to spend more time practicing your firearm skills. Those were Quaritch’s orders. You need Mansk to help you out with that. 
You’re weekly sessions with him were thereby doubled and Mansk started showing you everything you needed to know about your weapons and their handling. It started off really well. He explained everything to you and you seemed to almost instantly understand. You cherished the small moments with him, like when he would hold your arm to keep your aim straight or when he would readjust your hands with his so that you would be holding the gun straight. 
It just so happened to be that Mansk became your comfort person. He was your safe space and you looked forward to seeing him. Of course, you didn’t tell him that. He still intimidated you but there were rare occasions when his stern stare would falter and his expression would soften. You noted this only happened with you and it made your heart race. But you were basically a professional when it came to jumping to conclusions, so you decided to lay low. 
Today was another day you would spend mostly with Mansk. Every recom had their area of expertise. Guns and firearms were his. 
You were sitting next to each other and Mansk was watching you disassemble your weapon. You have to know what it’s made of, how it’s built and how to put it together and take it apart to be able to properly use it. 
The first few bits came off and within a minute, you had taken apart the entire assault rifle. Now you just had to put it all together again. Mansk was intently watching your movements, staying silent to let you concentrate. You started to realise that the quietness of his presence was comfortable and perhaps even the opposite of awkward. 
But today you were having a bad day. You’re worries and occasional self-consciousness were infecting your thoughts, so you had a hard time focusing and remembering what to do. Mansk noticed you become unsure of what you were doing so he gave you the next piece, to help you out. You flashed him a small smile before putting it on but it just kept repeating. Your hands started trembling so you rested them on your lap to prevent him from seeing. 
“I’m sorry, I can’t do it.” you groan, wiping your hand over your face before covering your mouth to hide a small yawn. 
“Hey, you managed last time. Try again.” Mansk says, taking your hand to show you how to hold it properly before letting you do your thing. You look down at all the remaining pieces and pick up the wrong one, trying to fit it on but it won’t work. 
You sigh, once again dropping your hands in defeat. It’s becoming frustrating but you know it’s because you can’t concentrate. In an attempt to ground yourself in reality and away from your thoughts, your body starts to tip sideways and your head nudges Mansk’s shoulder. He stays still for a few seconds before softly peering down at you. Your half-lidded eyes and droopy ears give your current state away. 
“Didn’t sleep much?” he asks with a small chuckle. He thought it might help you lighten up and have you return to your good mood but your body just tensed. You lift your tired head from his strong shoulder, looking at him to see whether you heard him right. 
He gets up, slowly taking the bits and pieces from your hands. You watch him closely while your thoughts run wild. ‘Does he know?’ ‘Did they tell him?’. 
He flashes you a knowing smirk before turning around to put away the half-finished weapon. Mansk didn’t have bad intentions. Yes, he knew what you and his friends were doing but he didn’t think badly of you. To Mansk, you were still you. The girl he would quietly admire from afar and protect when it was necessary. It’s out of his comfort zone to act on his feelings. But there is more to him than to the other recoms. Mansk genuinely likes you. 
Yep, he knows. Your heart sinks and suddenly, you feel dirty, ashamed and embarrassed. You like Mansk and think that he must think badly of you know. I mean, how could he not? You’ve basically fucked all his friends. It makes you feel like a slut. Someone never to be taken seriously again.
He turns to face you again with a faint smile on his face, wanting to show you that he finished putting your gun back together again but he doesn’t see you smiling or laughing. 
You’re still sitting where you were, but you’re body seemed to be cramped closer together. He noticed your head hung low and your hand was covering your face while your ears were pinned back and your body trembled with uneven inhales and sobs. 
He immediately regretted his actions and choice of words. The gun was put back and he slowly neared you again, thinking of what to do. He couldn’t believe that he made you cry and god, he resented himself for it. Seeing you so fragile and upset made his heart ache. 
“Y/N, I-” he starts to say but you shake your head. 
“I’m sorry,” you sob, still refusing to look at him. 
Mansk can see your tears drop down on your thighs, staining the fabric of your pants. His ears perk at your words. 
“What for? I’m the one that hurt you.” he says, running a hand over his head. Never has he regretted something in his life as much as now.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Mansk.” You sob, referring to your hook-up sessions with the others. 
He lets you speak, in case there is something you want to get off your chest. To somehow help you, he takes a seat next to you again, but he isn’t sure whether it will do much because he is the one who made you cry in the first place. 
“I just feel so stupid and slutty for doing all that.” you manage to push the words out through trembling lips. You don’t know why you’re telling him, but it doesn’t feel wrong. Mansk wouldn’t go and share this with others. He prefers to keep things to himself. 
“I am stupid for whining about it now.” you add.
His eyes are saddened at the thought of you hating yourself. He wishes you could see what you look like in his eyes. 
“Don’t say that.” he says. His voice is soft and comforting now. It almost feels like a blanket just wraps itself around you and protects you when he speaks. 
You sigh before looking up at him. Mansk looks guilty and disappointed in himself which makes you feel bad for falling apart in front of him. You didn’t want him blaming himself for your mental instability. 
When he sees your red, glassy eyes, wettened eyelashes and tear-stained cheeks his shoulders slump in further disappointment and his ears droop. 
“Mansk, it’s not your fault. I needed to let it out for a while now.” You say softly. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks down and you can see he is in deep thought. His eyebrows are furrowed and his tail is unnaturally still. 
To somehow help him, you lean against him again, this time fully relaxing against his side. Mansk doesn’t relax, his body tenses at the physical contact. Something you both exchange very rarely. 
“I didn’t want to cry in front of anyone else. Or alone.” You say, wrapping your arms around his larger one while you both sit in silence next to one another. After a minute, you feel Mansk’s tension slowly fade until you’re both comfortable. 
It’s not that he doesn’t want to touch you, he does. He just isn’t used to it, especially not from someone he really likes, like you. Mansk doesn’t see why or how you could like him, but he won’t push you away when you look so comfortable and calm with him. It does something to him. Deep inside, it seems to bring some life to his cold and neglected heart. 
“Thank you.” You whisper after a while. He looks down at you, wondering what you mean. You can feel his confusion and it makes you smile, so you look up to meet his gaze. 
“For being you. I needed this.” you say. 
He’s still staring down at you with widened eyes, but his gaze shifts from confusion to adoration and you can see it. 
You know that Mansk is a confident person but he is unsure of himself when it comes to him as a person. To make him understand you, you decide to just phrase it as boldly as possible.
“I like spending time with you. You make me feel safe.” you say. You’re words grow softer and almost break into a whisper before you look down again and lean your head against his bicep. 
Meanwhile, Mansk’s heart has now sprung to life and is racing. He can’t believe what you just said. You like being with him? It’s something he can’t really understand, but he knows you aren’t lying. Hearing those words makes him feel a sense of pride in his chest because he knows very well that you didn’t say anything along those lines to the others. You feel like this just around him. This moment will forever be remembered by him and he will use it to calm himself and make himself feel better whenever necessary. 
Mansk was able to smell the faint scent of another recom on you now and before. He wasn’t angry but he hated that they had still tainted you like this. It weakened your sweet scent which he looked forward to feeling every day. But again, now you were with him, not them.
After another few minutes of just relaxing in each other’s presence, your eyes meet the clock and you realise how late it is. 
“It’s getting late.” You say, slowly unwrapping your arms from his one. The loss of your body warmth makes him long for it now. “I should go.” 
He nods, watching you slowly get up. 
“Thanks again, Manks.” You smile at him, grabbing your vest before walking to the door. “Goodnight.” 
“Goodnight.” he replies, watching you close the door behind you and leave. Now that you were gone, he realised he found your presence comforting too. You both equally muted each other's negative thoughts. Like it was meant to be. 
The next day, Quaritch cancelled your time in the weaponry room with Mansk and told you to join Lopez, Ja, and Fike in regular training. You weren’t going to disobey his orders so you went. 
It was tough, not only pushing through all the physical work but also dealing with the teasing, especially Ja and Lopez put you through. 
When you were doing push-ups, Lopez sat himself in front of you and kept trying to fluster you with praise and pet names. 
“Just like that, good job, babygirl.” he grinned, watching your concentration falter and break. 
“Shut up.” you breathe out, trying to reach your goal. 
“Come on you’re so close, don’t stop now.” he coos and you groan out in frustration, trying to stay composed. After your pleasant interaction with Mansk, nothing anyone did really got to you anymore. A week or two ago, this would have made you a blushing mess. But now, Lopez seemed to just get on your nerves. You still liked him as a friend, but he was also the type of friend who could use an occasional punch to the face. 
Mansk walked past the gym with Lyle and the Colonel. Quaritch was telling them about the mission and they all paused to look at the four of you work out. It was pretty clear that you and Fike were the only ones really doing much. Lopez and Ja were constantly hanging around you. 
Mansk automatically searched for you and his ears tipped back in irritation when he saw them hanging around you. Lopez had his typical grin on his face and Ja seemed too amused for his liking. They were both watching you struggle and he could see that they were commenting on what you were doing. His eyes also caught on to the way you glared at them, which made him want to go in there and remove them from the room to leave you in peace. But it wasn’t up to him. 
Luckily, Quaritch spotted their little game too and opened the large gym door, barking orders at them. 
“If I don’t see the two of you as tired and hard-workin’ as Y/N I’ll assign you to hard labour and night watch.” The Colonel threatens, making Lopez and Ja jump up and straighten their posture. 
You freeze, looking over your shoulder while holding yourself in your one-arm-push-up position, before smiling and continuing. Mansk smirks, watching you perfect your form during your workout and Lyle chuckles before they walk away again. 
That evening, Mansk decides he wants to do something nice for you. You have to put up with morons like Ja and Lopez all day and you’re expected to be fine. Manks knows it must wear you out, so he wants you to end your second bad day nicely. 
You’re in your room, hair still damp from your shower while you flick through one of your old books. It’s already an hour past dinner and you’re in you’re sitting in your large sleep t-shirt and loose shorts.  Suddenly, your head jolts up and your ears perk forward when you hear a knock on your door. You freeze and your heart drops for a few seconds. What if it’s someone asking you to ‘help’ them again? You wish you had a peephole.
Either way, even if it is, you don’t have to agree. You felt bad to reject them before but now, you feel more confident to just say no. You don’t feel like hooking up with someone you barely know or don’t have any intimate feelings for anymore. It’s not what you like. 
A wave of sudden confidence surges through you and you put your book on your nightstand before getting up and reaching for the doorknob. Opening it, you don’t even look at the person’s face before starting to speak. 
“I’m not doing this anymore. You can leave n-” you say but your words catch in your throat when you see Mansk. 
He looks slightly confused and you quickly correct yourself. 
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know it was you. I thought maybe-” you start to stutter, before sighing and facepalming your forehead. ‘Great job at reminding him of your slutty behaviour.’ you think.
Mansk smiles to himself, catching on to your thought process and feeling pleased you were ready to decline anyone else. 
“Evenin’.” he says in a cocky manner, stretching his smile into a one-sided smirk. 
“Hey, is everything alright? I was-” You start to blabber but your words get caught in your throat once you lower your gaze to his middle. Mansk is holding a bouquet of flowers. Beautiful red ones. You’re eyes go wide and you look back up at him, wanting to hear an explanation. 
Your reaction seems to amuse him. 
“Yeah, I got you flowers. Figured after all you’re goin’ through, it’s the least I can do.” he says, handing them to you. 
Your eyes flicker between the flowers and his eyes as if asking him whether he is serious. Once he hands them to you, you continue to admire them before smiling up at him in a way he’s never seen you smile.  You feel tears sting the corners of your eyes and the tip of your nose. 
No one has ever gotten you flowers before. No man at least. Not in this way. 
“Thank you.” You say. Your voice has grown softer and quieter while you digest that you have received flowers from Mansk. You don’t know where he could have possibly gotten them from. Perhaps he picked them because you definitely can’t get any from a flower shop here. But either way, this small action warmed the core of your heart. 
“You deserve ‘em. Better ones probably, but those were the only ones I could find.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. It seems as though this is the first time he is doing this too. 
“No, they’re beautiful. I love them.” You say with the biggest smile stretching across your face. One that tells Mansk he did good and that the flowers were good enough for you. 
You don’t want to dismiss him. Especially not after this kind gesture. You also happen to miss his presence ever since the Colonel cut your sessions with him. 
“Would you like to come inside?” You ask, stepping aside and pushing your door open a little further. 
God, yes does Mansk want to. But he’s afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He’s even more afraid of you thinking that he is after what the other recoms are. Which is your body. Mansk sees you for who you are. You mean more to him. 
“If you don’t mind.” he says, not moving until you reassure him it’s okay with you one more time. 
“Not at all.” You smile again, making way for him. Mansk decides to step out of his comfort zone a little and be a little more forward than usual. Staying quiet and ignoring his feelings hasn’t really gotten him anywhere. Now, he might have a chance with you and he will do anything to not mess it up. 
He enters your room. It’s not anything special. All of your rooms look alike. You’re not allowed to excessively decorate them either, so there isn’t much looking to do. Less distractions mean he can spend more time admiring you. 
You close the door behind both of you and walk over to your table to put the flowers in a glass of water. The RDA doesn’t provide you with vases so this will have to do. Then you go to your bed to sit on it. There isn’t anywhere else one can sit except for the ground. Glancing up at Mansk you pat the spot next to you, silently asking him to join you. Mansk listens. 
The bed dips under his weight and once again, you find yourself silently admiring him. He’s so big. Not the buffest, but you preferred it this way. Extreme amounts of muscle often even scare you. Mansk is lean, built and tall. His torso carries most of his weight and you love how his chest and arms often make normal shirts and clothes look a size too small. But before he can notice your lingering eyes, you look away and ahead of you. 
“Did Lopez and Ja get night watch?” Mansk chuckles, hoping to break the ice with a small joke. He’s expecting you to say no. 
“Yeah.” you say with a scoff when you remember their stupid games. 
Mansk’s smile is wiped off his face. “Really?” he asks, wondering what else they had done to receive punishment.
“Mhm.” You nod, straightening your posture before sighing. “Lopez tried to do push-ups above me.” 
Mansk’s ears instantly tip back as he pictures Lopez climbing on top of your body to further annoy you. 
“It didn’t work.” you snort, shaking your head. Mansk looks back down at you. God, you’re so innocent in a way that is has his heart melting for you. You probably don’t even realise that most of the things they do are meant to be sexually aggravating. While thinking of what those two idiots put you through again, Mansk suddenly picks up a vague scent. Once again it isn’t yours. It hints to Lopez and it just winds Mansk up. There is nothing he hates more than the way they stain and pollute you with their smell.
“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable the other day. I didn’t mean to.” You say, reminding him of the way you basically hugged his right arm. It brings Mansk back to reality, making him pause his violent thoughts. 
He turns his head down to look at you. “You didn’t.” he reassures you. His voice once again calms all your nerves. “It was nice.” 
Your ears perk up at his words and your tail swishes against the mattress while you peer up at him. 
Seeing how beautiful and relaxed you look drives him to further express himself. Something, Mansk never does. 
“You’re nice.” he softly says, watching how your beautiful, glassy eyes widen in surprise. 
You’re at a loss for words. The next few moments you just gaze into each other's eyes. Mansk doesn’t want to move too fast because he is still worried you will think he just wants a quick hook-up. He wants you, all of you, but it’s up to you to initiate the first steps. Just so that he knows you’re comfortable for sure. 
You sigh, dropping your head into your palm. 
“You’re making me feel too special. I’m not used to this.” you say with a soft chuckle. He notices a small blush appear on your cheeks and it makes him smile. If he really has that effect on you then Mansk is the happiest man on this planet. 
“Then I’ll make you get used to it.” he smiles with a soft laugh. 
“How do you like me?” You ask, seeming self-conscious of yourself as well. “I slept with all your friends, I mean. Who does that?”
He notices you get nervous and he knows he has to step in before you get upset again. 
“Y/N, it doesn’t bother me.” he says, turning to you so that his body is now fully facing you. “Y/N.” he repeats, gently touching your shoulder in hopes of persuading you to look up at him. 
“I don’t care about that.” he says and you gulp, leaning your body into the touch of his large, warm hand. 
Mansk isn’t lying. Sure, he would get annoyed at their attitude towards you and he hated that they used you, but it didn’t make him think any less of you. Your actions didn’t bother him about you because he knew they weren’t ever intimate in a romantic way with you. He knows he is the only person seeing you this relaxed and comforted because apparently, he makes you feel like you can open up to him. That’s what he cares about and it prides him greatly. 
“I love you.” you suddenly blurt out. Your words surprise you both equally but they brighten Mansk’s expression. 
“Sorry-” you quickly say, cursing to yourself. “I got carried away and-” 
“Say it again.” he asks. His voice is so faint one could count it as a whisper. You stare at him for a few long seconds before slowly repeating yourself.
“I love you.” you say, knowing there is no going back now. You’re in too deep. The blush on your face just darkens and Mansk smiles to himself before looking away. You watch him, confused about his reaction. 
He’s staring at the door in front of the two of you, not moving a muscle. You don’t do anything because he seems to be in deep thought. While a small part of you fears rejection, something tells you that’s not the road the two of you are going down. 
Mansk is digesting what you said to him. He’s never received proper affection and love in his life. It’s something very foreign to him which is why he is usually so cold and unbothered. 
You want to ask if he’s okay but then you notice how his eyes slowly become more and more shiny. He’s tearing up and seeing his soft side come to light warms your heart again. Mansk is finally opening up and letting his emotions out.
“Mansk,” you whisper and he blinks a few times to return to reality before his sad and tear-filled eyes meet you. The blinking caused a tear to run down his cheek. 
Usually, Mansk would have hated himself for breaking like this. In the mindset he was taught, a marine doesn’t break or become this fragile. If he ever felt the need to cry it was no more than three single tears and he was always alone. 
But oddly, he didn’t feel the need to hold them back in your presence. He wasn’t sure how you would react and he hoped you wouldn’t be thrown off by his sudden comfort.
“Mansk, it’s okay.” you coo softly, propping yourself up on your knees and gently cupping his face to wipe the tear away with your thumb. Meanwhile, his wide and glassy eyes just stare at you in complete adoration and love. Like a lost, neglected puppy that had just found its home. 
He doesn’t know what to do. He is just so in awe of you and how you treat him, it overwhelms him. 
You smile at him, gently cradling his head and he swears he’s never felt happier in his life. He feels so appreciated by you and he knows he’s in good hands to be able to let his guard down. 
So Mansk drops his head in defeat, finally for once letting his emotions beat him down and come out. Another tear runs down his face followed by a third. 
“Awh, Mansk. Come here.” You say, feeling bad that he seems to have such a hard time dealing with his feelings. At the same time, seeing him fold and melt like this makes you realise just how much you really love him. 
You move forward, deciding to take control here and sit in his lap. Almost instantly, his large, strong hands gently wrap around you, loosely hanging on your waist. You press yourself against him, resting your chin on his shoulder while he buries his face into yours. He finds great comfort in your soft and warm body. A few more silent tears wet your shirt but you don’t mind. You continue to hold Mansk in your arms and slowly rub soothing circles on his back while he focuses on gathering himself again. 
After a few minutes, his breathing is calm and slow and he’s inhaling your scent. Well, you’re mixed scent but he is trying to just focus on yours. It helps him a great deal. 
“I love you.” he whispers, lifting his head so that his breath fans against your neck. It sends a shiver down your spine and Mansk spots the goosebumps appear just under your ear. It stirs a form of excitement in his stomach. 
“You’re the best thing in my life.” he mumbles, before killing the small silence with a single sniffle.
You wish he had better things than you, but you decide to accept the compliment and leave this conversation for another occasion.
You smile, before lifting your head and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. It warms Mansk’s heart and he is once again getting lost in your eyes before his flicker down to your lips. He needs you to initiate it. Mansk doesn’t trust himself.
You do the same, slowly leaning a little closer to see whether you both want the same thing. His eyes now focus on your lips until your nose brushes against his. You’re not sure whether you should kiss him because your relationship with him has become so special, you likewise don’t want to ruin it. His large arms around you tighten just a little and it convinces you to go for it. You press your lips against his, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment of the kiss. 
Mansk holds you close to him, instantly kissing back. Just like that, all his problems seem to fade. You eliminate all the negativity in his life. 
The kiss starts off soft and affectionate. Both of you take your time because you don’t have anywhere to be. It’s late in the evening, so very few people are awake. 
But after a while, you notice Mansk doesn’t let you go. You stay seated in his lap, running your fingers through his short and thick hair while cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Neither of you want this to end. You haven’t felt so serene and happy in a long time. 
The small kiss turns into a heavy make-out session. Both of you long for touch and close physical contact. Especially Mansk who has deprived himself of it for years. 
You pull away to refill your lungs with air but it seems Mansk doesn’t feel the need to. He continues to almost worship you, peppering soft kisses down your jaw and to your neck. If he would pick up any sign of concern or discomfort from you, he would stop, but you tilt your head to the sign and once again lean into him. It makes him smile against your skin before he gently uses his teeth, dragging his fang along the side of your neck. 
You sigh at the pleasant feeling of having him so close to you. It’s more than you could ask for. 
He places a small kiss on top of the area of skin he just nibbled before slowly pulling back to look at you. 
You look so relaxed it’s beautiful. He usually only sees you during the day which is when you’re stressed, pumped full of adrenaline or just neutral.
“You smell nice.” you mumble, resting your head on his shoulder and softly inhaling. He takes your words to heart and wants to say the same when he remembers that you don’t smell like you. 
“You-” he says before stopping. You wait for him to finish his sentence but he doesn’t so you pull away again to meet his gaze.
His eyes avert from yours, down to your shirt. Your nipples are vaguely visible through the fabric. It’s a beautiful sight to him, but the moment is being ruined by the invasive scent that has attached itself to the shirt. 
“Is everything okay?” You ask, wondering what is going through his head. 
His fingertips caress your shirt and he takes the hem of it between his finger and thumb, gently rolling the fabric. 
“I smell them on you.” he says and you notice how his eyes seem to have suddenly grown darker again. His ears once again tip back. You’re not sure whether you should apologise or be embarrassed. Maybe both. 
“Sorr-”
“Ruinin’ you’re pretty scent.” he mumbles. Mansk’s instincts interpret this as a threat. Someone else has scented you other than him and he naturally feels the need to replace it with his own. 
Somehow, his sudden mood change really turns you on. He seems possessive and protective of you and you really want nothing more than to be his. Right now, that’s all you ask. 
But he holds back again. He isn’t sure whether you would be okay with letting something as intimate as this happen between the two of you. Sure you’ve hooked up with the others before but the fact that he could still smell them on you or mainly on your clothes was unintentional. 
He is still examining your shirt and a low growl leaves his lips. You feel the soft vibrations in your hands and it sends excitement straight to your core. 
It’s as if you can suddenly read his mind. As if you know that he doesn’t want to rush things with you because he’s afraid of scaring you off. 
“Mansk-” you say, and your voice comes out barely above a whisper. 
He tears his eyes from your shirt to you. 
“I wanna be yours.” You say, staring at him with half-lidded eyes. You don’t care about being bold anymore. You want Mansk to stop holding back. You need him to know how much you want him. 
He seems to immediately catch on to what you’re saying, and his eyes widen and his ears perk forward. 
“Really?” He asks and you smile, noticing he is more verbal than usual. 
“Yes, please. Make me yours, Mansk.” You breathe out, shifting closer to him on his lap. “I don’t wanna be theirs.” 
You recall Brown teasing you that you smell like him and Ja which made them laugh. You didn’t want to but at the time you didn’t believe what they were saying. 
“Fuck.” he mutters under his breath before pulling your head to his and once again connecting your lips. Only this time, he is rougher. 
You know he is gentle with you but if this is what he is like when he’s worked up, then let’s sign you the fuck up!
You kiss back, pressing your chest against his. His large hands run over your back, down to your hips until they reach the edge of your shirt. He lets his hands slide up and under the fabric, just so that he can grab your hips and pull them against him. You smile in the kiss, finding his carefulness amusing so you pull away momentarily to pull your shirt over your head. He watches you with wide eyes and the second your upper body is bare in front of him, Mansk just loses himself. He’s so in love with you that he can’t even express it through words. He’s desperate to show you and make you feel how much you mean to him. 
“God- you’re so beautiful.” he breathes out, just admiring you. His hands fall from your hips as if he were afraid of ruining the sight by touching you. 
You give him a soft smile before you reach for his shirt. 
“Can I?” you ask and he nods, suddenly feeling very warm. When you remove his shirt, a small blush appears on his cheeks and he seems flustered. 
“Such a pretty boy.” you coo, running your warm hands over his chest and middle section. He exhales softly, letting his eyes close for a few seconds so that he can focus on the pleasant feeling of your touch. 
You press your forehead against his, running your hand over the back of his head once more before you feel the base of his queue. Mansk’s eyes open and gaze at you again. Your own queue is already hanging over your shoulder and he looks at it before looking back at you.
You give him a confirming smile so he raises his hand to gently reach for your queue while pulling his own one over his shoulder. 
You both watch the small thread-like tentacles move at the tips of your braids. Mansk is more confident now because his anger for Lopez and Ja is still present. He wants to claim you in every way possible, so seeing his soft side fade isn’t a surprise. 
“This’ll show ‘em.” he says, glancing up at you once more to make sure you aren’t objecting before connecting your queues and forming tsaheylu. 
You suddenly feel each other on a deeper level and it drives Mansk wild. 
“Mine.” he growls, pulling you into him and attacking your neck with his lips. Your bare skin rubs against his and you grind down against his growing erection. He already feels so big, it just excites you more. 
His hands are all over you, groping your chest and the flesh of your hips as if he were covering you in the invisible paint of his scent. Suddenly, his arm fully wraps around you and he gently lifts you off of him, placing you down onto the bed before he climbs on top of you and continues to mark you. His tongue darts out and he draws it down your neck to your chest, leaving small trails of saliva while occasionally sucking hickeys into your soft skin. Anything to make you, his. He has to make sure it will be obvious to the others the next time they see you. No one will ever get to smell your sweet scent again besides him. 
His body moves lower, starting to work on your pants before slowly pulling them down your legs. He groans in arousal when he sees a small wet patch stain your underwear. You’re lying on your back, holding on to the pillow under your head while your wild tail continues to flick, showing your excitement. 
Mansk gently parts your legs, opening them to him so that he can get a full view of you, even in panties. 
“All mine.” he whispers before lowering himself down. He licks and kisses the insides of your thighs, making you squirm because he’s so close to your core. Your inner thighs are also really sensitive to his touch. He sucks a hickey into your soft flesh, clearly marking you as his.
Your scent is stronger than ever between your legs and he can’t help himself but just press his nose right against your clothed core, inhaling deeply. After all, Mansk’s Avatar has its needs too. 
You gasp and the sudden action makes you close your legs around him and drop your head back. He smirks up at you, gently holding one of your thighs up while his other hand fumbles with your panties. He’s asking you for permission through his eyes and you nod, propping yourself up on your elbows. Your queues are luckily long enough to allow him to move down you. 
He leans forward, taking the fabric between his teeth before tugging it down by his fangs. Seeing him handle you in this way just makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach. At this point, he could do anything and you would let him. 
Once they’re off, Mansk looks back down between your legs and curses. His pupils widen with lust and he moves your legs out of the way again so that he can see all of you. 
“So fuckin’ pretty.” he growls, attaching his fingers to your heat and parting your lips to expose you to his predatory eyes. Without further ado, Mansk lifts one of your legs onto his strong shoulder while holding the other one open. Then, he lets his head sink down to you until his mouth lands on your slit. His tongue darts out and he licks a long strip from your hole to your clit, making you squirm again. Your back arches off the mattress and you hiss in pleasure, trying to open your legs even more for him to just offer yourself. 
He starts to eat you out, burying himself between your legs. You fall into an ocean of euphoria as your senses are clouded by arousal and pleasure. This is not how you thought you would end your day. Time seems to suddenly run faster than before while you continue to lose yourself. But before you can cum, he pulls away, licking his lips and grinning at you. 
“Ya’ taste like heaven.” he says, wiping his chin with the back of his hands before deeply kissing you again. His tongue pushes past your lips, finding yours. You can taste yourself on him and it does things to you. 
Your leg lifts onto his hip and you try to push his pants down with your heel. He pulls away with a soft chuckle before undoing his belt and letting you push his pants down with your feet. Your fingers reach for his underwear and he helps you pull it down. All clothes have to go. Mansk wants to feel all of you with all of him. Nothing is allowed to separate the two of you. 
He presses his hips against yours and you feel his throbbing erection nudge your inner thigh. It makes you let out a shaky exhale. 
“You belong to me.” he growls into your ear, taking one of your hands and interlocking your fingers. You nod, pressing your cheek against his as you relish in the feeling of feeling each other’s body heat. 
“Then fuck me like you mean it.” you say, wanting to feel him and pleasure him. Your words take him by surprise. He never knew you could have such a dirty mouth, but damn did it make him harder. You’re so beautiful laying beneath him like this, so ready for him to just take you and claim you for himself. Your legs are wide open, offering your pretty pussy to him and your chest is arched against his. It’s better than anything he could have asked for. 
Mansk doesn’t hesitate anymore. He’s done with that. It’s just you and him now, he knows he doesn’t have to wait with you anymore. He pulls his hips back, glancing down between both of your bodies to make sure he is lined up with you. Moving forward, his tip nudges against your entrance, gently applying pressure. You whimper, pushing your hips up against him. That’s how Mansk knows he’s found it. 
In the next second, he rocks his hips forward, pushing his entire length into you in one stroke. The way your tight walls clench around him, coating him with your slick, makes him stifle a moan. You feel amazing. Better than amazing. 
You let out a soft moan and your body tenses at the intrusion. But it feels pleasurable from the beginning on. It doesn’t hurt like it did with the others. 
“Mansk-” you whine. You’re lips are parted and you’re breathing heavily into his ear. “So… big,” you whisper, feeling cock drunk already. 
Your words boost Mansk’s self-confidence permanently. You’re so good to him. 
“All for you, baby.” he whispers, pressing an open-mouthed hiss to your cheek before slowly pulling out. You hold your breath, waiting for him to move and once he pushes back inside you, you whine his name. 
It feels so good it’s overwhelming you. Yes, the others made you cum but you never experienced anything as good as this. The reasons for that are that you are finally bonding with someone you love, not someone to just have fun with, and you’re connected through your neural cords. 
He starts thrusting into you at a gentle pace, making sure to bottom out each time. Usually, penetration doesn’t feel that amazing to you by itself but you can feel his pleasure and it spreads to you. 
“You feel so good.” he grunts into your ear, starting to lose his breath with each thrust. 
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close to you while his hips rut against yours. 
With time, he quickens his pace a little while deepening his thrusts. You’re speechless, slowly melting against him and becoming a whining mess. 
Every noise you make Mansk catches and replays in his head. He loves it all. 
“Such a good girl to me.” he whispers, dropping his head into the crook of your neck to focus on his thrusts. 
“Mansk-” you whimper again, starting to mutter and babble out his name. It’s too much for you in the best way possible. 
“You doin’ okay, sweetheart?” he asks, peering down at you and you nod your head frantically. 
“So good-” you whisper, gasping when he suddenly snaps his hips forward. His thick cock is stretching you just enough to make it pleasurable and his tip is brushing against the beginning of your uterus. It’s like a perfect fit. 
You’re drunk on bliss, floating in the clouds to the point where your own eyes begin to tear up. You don’t even notice it at first. Your vision becomes blurry but you can’t even process it. Only when tears start streaming down your cheeks do you realise you may be crying. Mansk sees one trickle down onto the pillow and he immediately looks at you. Normally, he would have stopped and made sure you’re alright but thanks to your bond, he can feel how good you feel. Seeing your dilated pupils, reddened eyes, flushed face, gaping mouth and furrowed eyebrows makes him grin and kiss you as if he were trying to tell you how much he loves you through his actions. 
His thrusts don’t falter once and he keeps plunging himself into your needy pussy. Mansk is slowly growing desperate for his release and he can feel you near yours as well. His thrusts get sloppier but somehow, they remain just as pleasurable. You hook both your legs around his slim waist, pulling him closer and deeper into with each movement of his hips. 
Watching you try to fuck yourself with him makes him lose it. 
“Atta girl.” he encourages you with a grin before feeling you clench around him again.
“Fuck- so close.” Mansk hisses, gritting his teeth.
“I- I’m gonna-” you sob through a sniffle, gasping when he angles his hips to dive deeper and harder into you. 
“Gonna make you mine.” he growls, harshly thrusting into you a few final times before he’s cumming. 
You moan his name, throwing your head back and clenching around his length as your own orgasm hits you. Your legs clamp down around him, holding him close to you. 
He moans your name, unable to hold back his own noises but you love them all. 
Mansk’s hips stutter and he sinks into you as deep as possible before shooting his cum deep inside you, filling you to the brim until his semen is forced to leak out of you. He’s still buried hilt-deep in your pussy and he bites down on your shoulder, allowing his fangs to penetrate the first layer of skin so that he draws blood. A mating bite is enforced on you. Something neither of you has done before. 
You both slowly come down from your highs and your queues automatically disconnect because the mating process has been fulfilled. 
Mansk sighs, closing his eyes for a few moments but neither of you move away from the other. 
“C- can you stay, please?” you ask him, looking up at him through your glassy eyes. Your fucked out expression is still visible and he feels sorrow that you would think he would just leave you alone after this. 
‘That’s probably what the others did.’ he thought, but he didn’t want his anger for them to ruin his time with you. 
“Where would I go?” he asks, nuzzling your cheek with his face. “You belong with me. I’m stayin’ here if you want me to.” 
You nod, feeling comforted by knowing that you don’t have to spend another night sleeping alone. 
Mansk slowly lowers himself down on you, laying on top of you while staying buried deep inside you.
“Is this okay?” he asks, not wanting to crush you or weigh you down.
“Mhm. So comfortable.” you mumble, sleepily. Your arms envelop his body once again and he lets himself relax against you. 
“I’m never lettin’ anyone near you again.” he whispers against you and it makes you giggle. “Not the way Lopez and shit touch you.” 
You nod, knowing what he means. Finally, their stupid teasing can end. Not only will Mansk be hanging around you now, but your markings will be visible. He is put to peace by the thought of his teammates seeing your hickeys and smelling him on you. They’ll finally know that they will never get to have you the way they did before. 
Mansk overheard Lopez saying he’ll try to make an arrangement with you to make his ‘visits’ regular. But now Mansk got you to himself, fully claiming you in ways they didn’t. They don’t stand a chance.
Tag List: @ken-dala @numarusworld @ikranwings @number1gal @jatwow @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed
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fireolin ¡ 2 months ago
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Physiotherapists and similar
I've had a LOT of experience with physical therapists of various types treating me for a variety of injuries over my adult life, all of which I now realise are related to my hyper-mobility (and I don't even have an extreme version). I'm putting down some of what I've learned from a patient perspective for anyone less experienced in case it helps.
Every therapist is different. Individually, they have different treatment styles and preferences for how to treat your injury. Often they'll call themselves the same thing ('physiotherapist') but the treatment you can receive is wildly different. Usually they use a combination of methods. They may emphasise physical manipulation, types of massage, dry needling, shock wave or light therapy, exercise, assisted exercise, be hands-on, or reluctant to touch a patient.
Because treatment style can vary, it helps to shop around if you sense something just isn't working for you after one or two visits. That's a difficult call when you're new to treatment, but don't keep going to someone if they're not helping you improve. The best therapists I've had have been skilled in a variety of techniques so they can adapt to try something new.
Improving depends greatly on following their advice regarding exercise or other therapeutic actions, NOT just what they do for you in the treatment room. It's unfair to say a therapist is ineffective if you've neglected to do what they say.
If they give you too many exercises, tell them. They can give you less or tell you which ones to prioritise. Better to modify what they give you than do nothing, UNLESS point 5.
If the exercises cause a flare up of your issue, then back off or stop. Check with them about it. If the issue is the therapist not investigating your issue properly in the first place or giving you poor advice, then look around for someone who will take more care with your individual issue, rather than just give you the list they always give for 'a sprained ankle' or whatever
Don't instantly disregard a form of treatment you've never heard of before. Some of the most effective physios I've had used methods that have a rational basis but take a while to fully explain, and at first sound esoteric
Pain isn't always where the problem is, so don't dismiss therapists who want to work somewhere you don't expect. The effective physio fixed my hands by treating my upper body. The ineffective one just put heat packs on my hands which felt nice, but didn't help resolve the problem.
You can say No to any treatment style you don't like.
TL/DR: Treatment styles vary so don't stay with a method that doesn't work. Assertively communicate your needs and results and shop around if necessary. But be open to something you may not have heard about so long as the therapist is reputable.
Finally, recommendations from other patients who've had good results from a therapist can be extremely helpful in any search.
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nalyra-dreaming ¡ 9 months ago
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Hi there. If you have already answered questions about this I apologize for the repeated question. The question is what is your opinion on the interviews for the cast? In jacob’s recent podcast interview released yesterday he mentions that AMC ‘butt clenches’ (essentially stresses out/panics) when he has to be interviewed because he sort of says anything (whatever he feels. He stays engaged and on topic but he is tired of being asked the same questions in interviews repeatedly). It was also mentioned that Naomi (who ran the old podcast and had him on the one yesterday) was told by AMC people to not bring up race but Jacob mentioned he didn’t mind bringing that up because its important and it’s not a repeated simple interview question he’s had so many times before and it is relevant to his character Louis in the realm on the show. She has been in contact with Sam and Eric for a interviews with them as well. My point is to bring up the podcast interview style is that it appears there is a rift between fans on what they prefer interview style. It is not our call but I have seen various opinions. I have seen many fans say that the fan style of YouTube interviews with the cast and fans is insulting (because why do these specific fans get ‘chosen’ to interview the cast and they don’t even ask substantial or interesting questions- their words not mine) and severely disliked meanwhile Naomi’s podcast from AMC was dropped and they believe that she actually asks substantial thought provoking questions. There are petitions to bring back the podcast from season one because in many interviews the cast get asked the same questions and many fans did not like the fan style YouTube interviews with the cast. Again the promotion isn’t our call/decision but I’m curious your take on the repeated interview questions and opinions on different interview styles? I always enjoy any new interviews of the cast because we get to see their interpretations of the characters. But I would enjoy more promotion from AMC in general as well as diverse interview styles
So would I!!! Gimme all the promotion and in all the different styles!! I love to listen to podcasts:)))
I said it before, I had hoped the podcast would continue for the second season. The criticism I had - and that still stands - is that Naomi did not seem to have the background of the books. Which led to a lot of expectations for certain developments which... well. Didn't help, fandom-wise, let's put it that way^^
Anyways. Jacob has never been shy to address things. He has also always addressed racial issues when he felt like it, he has addressed the reinvention of Louis, repeatedly. I have those videos bookmarked:). And he and Sam have addressed the racial commentary the show does, repeatedly, too, there’s lot of interviews?! I just listened to the podcast and... well. Jacob being Jacob, in the bestest of ways :) He's blunt. He's warm and funny. He's... open. Jacob has been very blunt about the Loumand relationship, while it was still ongoing, for example. I can see AMC cringe a bit at that moment (which, coincidentally is why Assad stayed so "current" in his commentary).
But the thing about the questions and race was not about IWTV?! It was the instructions and “same questions“ and re race re Game of Thrones.
And Jacob said he is now older and it puts things into perspective. And it makes me feel as if his manager likely relayed this rule he used to have because of that experience on GoT. (That is a normal thing, just like “no personal questions“ rules some obviously have!)
He also says that AMC was a bit “butt clenched“ because he has run out of “self-censorship“ - and honestly, I love it, but I get why networks might not be too happy about it. Sam also has commented on gag orders they got re content?! (And as said, I bet some people would have preferred if Jacob hadn’t been as blunt about Loumand…)
The "same questions all the time" however is a usual thing every actor has to go through (as they say and comment on as well?!). It's a gauntlet run for promotion. It happens every season. And as much as I can understand it being exhausting... that's part of the job. There's some that manage different questions, and the cast has expressed their delight in those interviews.
Naomi asked questions that may have been more in-depth in some aspects, but as said before, some other questions were quite... well, canonically unfounded. She lacked - or intentionally seemed to lack (to represent the show-only audience?!) - the information background. She shared that with a lot of interviewers of other interviewers, who do not know the chronicles.
I think that is why people like Autumn Brown and Maven of the Eventide get interviews right now. And, to bring that back into people's minds - it was JACOB who recommended Autumn to Rolin... and so it was Jacob that started this development. It might be good to remember that when hating on these interviews.
I for one hope Naomi will continue to do interviews with them :) That would be lovely 🥰
For those who have not listened to the podcast yet!!!
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rems-writing ¡ 5 months ago
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Ateez as other r&b songs
Pairing: none
Genre: Fluff
Wordcount: 785 words
Rating: pg-13
Nets: @mirohs-aurora-society @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet
This is an updated version of an old headcanon I wrote a long time ago. This is Ateez as r&b songs sung by artists that aren't Bryson Tiller.
Hongjoong - Say You Love Me by Kai
We all know how possessive the captain is of Atiny. Literally the lyrics in this song say "Just say you love me tonight. Don't make me jealous tonight." Plus, the instrumental is something that Hongjoong would produce if given the chance. 
Seonghwa - First Life by Kehlani 
I was up late at night, listening to this song. As I played it on a loop, I slowly began to spiral downwards and really brainstorm whose voice in Ateez would fit this song well in terms of flexing vocal tones and the overall softness of the timbre in this track. That’s when it hit me. Seonghwa’s voice would be perfect for this song, especially since the original singer seems to have this song in the key of C minor. I’m basing this off the chords of the instrumental and the fact that in some of her lines, I hear an E flat when she descends notes. I have a feeling that Seonghwa can reach that low. I’ve heard him reach that low before in past Ateez songs. 
Yunho - Truth Be Told by Baekhyun
I originally had another Baekhyun song lined up for Yunho. However, my perspective changed when I heard Deep Dive, the first track off their new album titled Golden Hour part 2. The breathiness Yunho delivered [ESPECIALLY WHEN HE SAID TOXIC] in his verse got the gears clicking in my brain. What if he delivered that same breathiness in this song? The more I think about it as I write this passage for him, I cannot stop thinking about that possibility. Now I want Yunho to cover this song. KQ, please let him do it. 
Yeosang - Open Passionate by Kehlani
Ever since I heard this doberman's deep ass voice in Halazia and Dune, I always wanted him to sort of test his range a bit. This Kehlani track is two songs in one and I feel that he can handle the transition. Plus I can't hear the lyrics "What if you slip up? What if tequila grabs your neck and says, 'Don't bitch up?" without hearing his soft voice entering my ear and hitting my brainwaves.
San - Halfcrazy by Musiq Soulchild
Ever since I heard this song for the first time, I thought to myself “Who in Ateez is the biggest romantic, aside from Yunho since he’s the epitome of boyfriend material?” That’s when I realized… It's San. This man has such a huge heart and he loves his bandmates more than anything, especially Wooyoung. The airiness of his vocals would fit perfectly with this track plus I have a feeling he can probably pull off some ballet shit with this song since it’s meant to be a ballad with an r&b esque feel to it. He can pull off the runs that Soulchild does in the song. San’s voice has its own dynamic and even with the key changes in said runs, the breathiness in San’s voice will help him out so he can nail this song perfectly. 
Mingi - We Need A Resolution by Aaliyah
There's really no context or connection to this. Mingi is my ult. This track is my all time favorite r&b song that isn't made by Bryson Tiller. I guess the only thing I have to say is I can picture Mingi's raspy voice singing the lyrics and doing the ad libs and stuff.
Wooyoung - Die 4 You by DEAN
Like San, Wooyoung loves his bandmates more than anything. However, the way these two boyfriends go about it is different. While San would prefer to stay professional and handle a scandal or conflict in a calm manner, Wooyoung will not hesitate to call you out on your bullshit. I feel like another reason why he and Yeosang are best friends is because they will stick up for each other no matter what. But that's a different story. Anyways, musical aspect. Like San, Wooyoung has an airiness to his vocals yet I feel as though he won't put as much power into it like San will with his cover. Not that there's anything wrong with that of course! I just feel like he'd have fun with this song a lot. I'm unsure if he listens to Dean but if he does, I want him to cover this single soon.
Jongho - Bad News by Kehlani
Contrary to Next to You by Bryson Tiller, Jongho can showcase his powerful vocals in this Kehlani track and even do some insane harmonies. However, due to the soft nature of this otherwise slow jam/ballad, he would definitely have to focus on balance. That way, his high notes can be heard yet still put the listener at ease.
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emperordinozenmon ¡ 1 month ago
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Battle Brigade
For Dio’s first line story in this page I gave him 3 guidelines First Person perspective, Ultraman/Kaiju no 8 inspired and lastly Jihyo needed to be the love interest because I like how he writes her. Now hopefully this encourages more tokusatsu inspired stories
Jihyo slipped into my room like a cat in search of warmth and mischief. The moment the door clicked shut, she beelined for my bed, her smaller frame effortlessly weaving into the sheets before I could even register what was happening. Her arms wrapped around me, snug and insistent, her body molding against mine like she belonged there.
A deep, husky voice broke through my haze of sleep.
“Hey, babe. You feeling alright?”
I groaned, half-conscious, trying to shake off the weight of drowsiness. My limbs felt trapped, tangled in Jihyo's stubborn embrace.
Disoriented, I croaked, “What time is it?”
“2:30 a.m.,” she answered, far too innocently for someone committing a blatant act of sleep theft.
I cracked an eye open to scowl at her. “Jihyo, I am exhausted.”
She merely grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Come on,” she cooed. “Just let me steal some of your warmth, and we’ll be fine.”
I tried to hold onto my irritation, but it was a losing battle. Jihyo batted her lashes, her big, doe eyes glimmering with mischief before she pressed a quick kiss to my nose. A sigh of surrender escaped me as she burrowed even closer, victorious.
A quiet, triumphant “yay,” left her lips as she nuzzled into me, her warmth spreading like a lullaby.
And just like that, I let her stay.
My relationship with Jihyo was… weird.
It started as a purely physical and economic partnership—born from circumstance rather than choice. After I saved her from a Stardust Squadron attack, she latched onto me like a scarred puppy, and even after she reunited with her friends, that attachment never wavered.
She texted me daily—long, heartfelt messages about how much she missed me, how she couldn’t wait to see me again, how boring life was without me in it. If I didn’t respond quickly enough, she’d follow up with a dramatic “Are you DEAD?” or an exaggerated string of emojis that made it clear she was spiraling.
In a word, she was clingy. But that was probably obvious by now.
So, when I casually mentioned needing a new place to live, it wasn’t shocking that Jihyo immediately suggested we move in together and split the rent. At first, I hesitated—see: aforementioned clinginess—but she made a compelling case. “You don’t have to be lonely,” she reasoned, arms crossed as she leaned over my couch. “You get someone to cook for you sometimes. I won’t even charge you for kisses.”
“I don’t want kisses,” I had deadpanned.
She had smirked, completely unfazed. “Liar.”
I never really stood a chance. Eventually, I gave in, and we moved in together that February, right after both our birthdays. It’s been a year and nine months now, and honestly? I’ve lost count of all the ways my life has changed because of her.
For one, I have received:
• 818 kisses
• 564 “babes”
• 300 hand-holds
• 105 sneaky cuddles
• 2 full-on marriage proposals—jokingly, of course… at least, I hope.
I fell into a routine of taking care of things while Jihyo was at work. She was out for hours, busy with schedules, rehearsals, and whatever else an idol’s life required. That left me with the task of keeping our shared space functional.
Grocery shopping was my usual errand. I’d push the cart through the aisles, absentmindedly grabbing the basics—eggs, rice, vegetables—before stopping at the snack section, where Jihyo’s preferences dictated half the haul. She had an almost concerning addiction to spicy ramen and peach-flavored anything. If I forgot her yogurt drinks, she’d pout at me like I’d personally betrayed her.
Laundry was another chore I handled. Jihyo swore she would help, but that mostly consisted of her sitting on the couch, watching me fold clothes, and tossing in the occasional “You’re doing great, babe.” If I called her out, she’d just bat her lashes and say, “Moral support is important!” before going back to scrolling on her phone.
Cleaning, at least, was a solo mission. I moved through the apartment with practiced ease, wiping down counters, sweeping floors, and straightening up the inevitable mess Jihyo left in her wake. Makeup brushes scattered across the bathroom sink, half-empty coffee cups on the table, a hoodie draped over the back of a chair—signs of her existence woven into every inch of the space.
Sometimes, when I finished, I’d sit on the couch and scroll through my phone, only to find a message from her.
Jihyo: “Miss you.”
Me: “You’ve been gone for three hours.”
Jihyo: “Too long. What are you doing?”
Me: “Cleaning up after you, obviously.”
Jihyo: “Ugh, I should’ve kissed you more before I left.”
Me: “You literally did that.”
Jihyo: “Not enough!!”
She was ridiculous.
But as much as I teased her, I had grown used to this. To the constancy of her presence, even when she wasn’t here.
To the way she made herself a part of my life, whether I asked for it or not.
To the fact that, no matter how weird things got, I never really wanted it to change.
We woke up tangled together in my bed, as usual. Jihyo had a way of clinging in her sleep—arms wrapped tight, legs hooked around mine, face buried against my neck like I was her personal body pillow. It took some effort to extract myself from her grasp without waking her up, but the second I slid out from under the covers, she stirred.
“Mmm… where you going?” she mumbled sleepily, reaching for me with one hand, eyes barely open.
“Work,” I said, running a hand through my hair. “Same as you.”
She groaned dramatically and rolled onto her stomach, peeking at me with half-lidded eyes. “Five more minutes?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You say that, and next thing you know, you’re late.”
Jihyo pouted but let me go, stretching like a cat before finally rolling out of bed. I went about my morning routine, shaving and getting dressed in my suit and jewelry—just enough to look the part of a (somewhat) professional bodyguard. Jihyo, meanwhile, got ready for another day of comeback preparations, moving around the apartment with her usual energy.
But no matter what she was doing—putting on makeup, fixing her hair, throwing together an outfit—she kept gravitating toward me.
While I buttoned my cuffs, she brushed past me, running a hand down my back before grabbing her hairbrush. When I put on my watch, she leaned in and fixed my tie, even though it didn’t need adjusting. By the time I packed our lunches, she had bumped into me at least three times under the guise of “grabbing something.”
I knew exactly what she was doing.
When I handed her lunch over, she beamed and kissed my cheek. “Thanks, babe. I really appreciate it.”
I smirked, shaking my head. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
Jihyo froze mid-step, eyes snapping to mine before a slow, mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ooh, I like that pet name.”
I didn’t even get the chance to respond before she snatched my phone straight from my pocket. With a sly look, she held it just out of reach and started typing at lightning speed. Before I could take it back, she turned the camera on herself, tilted her head cutely, and snapped a selfie.
When she finally handed the phone back, I looked at the screen. Her contact name had been changed to “Tiger Hyo”, and her adorable selfie was now her profile picture.
I laughed, shaking my head. “I like it.”
Jihyo grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Good. Now I gotta go, or I’ll be late.”
I pulled her into a hug, feeling the way she melted against me like she was trying to absorb as much warmth as possible before leaving. She let out a satisfied hum, squeezing me a little tighter before reluctantly pulling away.
But even then, she lingered.
She took a step toward the door, then hesitated. She turned back, eyes scanning me like she was committing me to memory. Her fingers twitched at her sides as if physically resisting the urge to reach for me again.
Then, with a determined nod, she declared, “Okay, now I need to find something for you.”
I raised a brow. “Something for me?”
“Mhm. You gave me a nickname, so I have to give you one too.” She nodded like it was an official decree before finally, finally heading out the door.
I watched her go, shaking my head as I waved her off. Some people needed coffee to start their day. Jihyo, apparently, needed to give and receive an excessive amount of affection or she’d combust.
With a smirk, I pocketed my phone and headed out, making my way to Theo’s place.
Here’s a refined and expanded version of your scene to improve flow, natural dialogue, and character interaction:
⸝
When I arrived at Theo’s place, he was already waiting for me at the gate, arms crossed, wearing his usual smirk.
“Yo, long time no see, Dios,” he greeted.
“Hey, boss,” I said, nodding.
Theo stepped aside to let me in. “How’s life treating you?”
“It’s fine,” I replied, keeping it vague.
Theo shot me a knowing look. “You still seeing that crazy girl?”
I frowned, glancing at him. “Which one?”
“The clingy singer,” he clarified with a grin.
“Oh,” I said, realization clicking. “Yeah, we moved in together.”
Theo stopped mid-step. “Wait, really?”
I nodded.
He studied me for a moment, then asked, “How’s that working out?”
I hesitated, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s… odd,” I admitted. “I love her, but I don’t really know how she wants to be loved. So I just kinda… exist in this weird teasing dynamic where I know we’re close, but I can’t tell if it’s platonic or romantic.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “Well, what do you actually do for her?”
My expression softened as I listed it out. “I cook for her, clean the apartment, take care of her pets, go to her concerts… any performance I can make it to, really.”
Theo let out a short chuckle. “Oh, wow. What a supportive husband you are.”
I snorted, shaking my head.
“All that,” Theo continued, “and you still have time to save the world. I guess being an alien has its perks.”
I rolled my eyes. “You do know I was born on this planet, right? Like, literally in Bellflower. I have a birth certificate and everything.”
Theo smirked. “I know. I just like giving you a hard time.”
I sighed, but I couldn’t help but smirk back as we headed to his car. As I drove I thought about what Jihyo would be doing. I honestly found myself doing that a lot recently but I couldn’t help it. She made me feel alive, and I hoped what we had was forever.
Here’s a refined version of the scene that better reflects Dios’s conversation with Theo, reinforcing both his confusion and Jihyo’s confidence in their relationship. I adjusted the flow, made the dialogue more natural, and made sure it lined up with Dios’s uncertainty from the previous scene.
⸝
As Jihyo powered through her packed schedule, her thoughts drifted—What was Dios up to right now? Probably running errands, making sure the apartment didn’t fall into chaos while she was stuck here. She smiled at the thought, knowing full well he’d have their lunches packed neatly like always.
She barely had time to take a bite before Sana leaned in with that unmistakable smirk—the one that meant trouble.
“So,” Sana started, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers, “when are you finally going to lock Dios down?”
Jihyo paused mid-chew, blinking. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Sana said, grinning. “You’re basically glued to his side, you steal his clothes all the time, and you two have lived together for almost two years—”
“One year, nine months, and twenty-seven days,” Jihyo corrected automatically.
Sana gave her a pointed look. “Uh-huh. And you’re still gonna tell me he’s just your roommate?”
Jihyo swallowed, then shrugged. “He’s mine.”
Sana snorted. “You say that so confidently, but where’s the official confirmation?”
Jihyo smirked, resting her chin in her hand. “I don’t need one.”
Sana narrowed her eyes. “Oh?”
“I have him,” Jihyo said simply. “He just… doesn’t know how to express himself like normal people.”
Sana leaned back, laughing. “So you’re saying he’s, what—emotionally constipated?”
“Kinda,” Jihyo mused. “I’d say he acts more like an alien.” She tapped her chopsticks against her plate. “Like, I know he loves me—he just doesn’t know how to translate it. So instead, he compensates. He lets me do what I want, handles all the little things—like this lunch he made for me that you’re eyeing.”
Sana shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, if he made extra…”
Jihyo laughed, then added, “It’s kind of cute.”
Sana raised a brow. “Cute? Sounds frustrating to me.”
Jihyo just shrugged again. “It can be, sometimes. But I know he cares about me. He just shows it in his own way.”
Sana pursed her lips, considering. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she shook her head. “You have the patience of a saint.”
Jihyo grinned. “More like the stubbornness of a tiger.”
Sana rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, she pointed her chopsticks at Jihyo. “Just don’t wait too long, okay? Some guys need a little push to get their feelings in order.”
Jihyo smirked, unfazed. “Oh, I know. But I don’t have to.”
Sana tilted her head, intrigued. “Wait, what do you mean?”
Jihyo simply took another bite of her lunch, looking far too pleased with herself.
As Theo and I arrived at the Human Defense Force base, something immediately felt off. The usual cold, impersonal atmosphere was gone, replaced by an almost celebratory energy. Laughter echoed through the halls, voices livelier than usual. My jaw tightened. I knew exactly what this meant.
Theo caught my reaction. “Yo, what’s wrong?”
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
Theo wasn’t buying it. He grabbed my arm and steered me toward the garage, weaving through personnel who barely gave me a second glance. They were too caught up in the moment, celebrating something I had no part in. Good.
Inside the garage, the familiar scent of oil and metal filled the air. Theo led me to a nondescript workbench, leaning against it while I idly turned a wrench over in my hands.
“So,” he started, voice casual but knowing, “how’s the whole ‘part-alien’ thing treating you?”
I scoffed. “You say that like I woke up with antennae one morning.”
Theo smirked. “I mean, kinda. You were one of the first of the battle brigade, and almost got yourself killed during the penultimate fight, only for some guy from the Stardust Squadron to turncoat because his leader didn’t fight with honor. Then you get a god-killing superweapon fused to your cells. And you’re telling me it’s just business as usual?”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you want me to say? That I wake up every morning with existential dread?”
Theo pointed at me. “See, that would be an honest answer.”
I sighed and tossed the wrench onto the bench. “But it’s not the truth. Look, it’s… weird. Some days, I feel normal. On other days, I react to things before they happen. Or I’ll lift something that should be way heavier than it is. Then there’s The Hyperion.” I tapped my chest. “It’s quiet most of the time, but I know it’s there. Like a second heartbeat.”
Theo frowned, watching me closely. “And does it ever… I don’t know, talk to you?”
I shook my head. “Not in words. It’s more like… I see and feel more in some ways and less in others. It’s instincts, almost. It pushes me toward action. Toward fights. Like it’s hungry for battle.”
Theo exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “And you’re handling that okay?”
I shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do?”
Theo gave me a flat look. “I don’t know, deal with it instead of pretending it’s not a problem?”
I opened my mouth to argue but shut it again. He wasn’t wrong.
Theo leaned forward. “Dios, I’ve known you for years. You do this thing where you pretend everything’s fine until it’s crashing down around you. You don’t talk about what’s bothering you. You just push forward like that’ll make it go away.”
I scoffed. “You sound like Jihyo.”
“Oh, you mean the woman who somehow tolerates your emotionally stunted ass?” Theo shot back. “Yeah, maybe listen to her.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I’m not ignoring it, Theo. I just… don’t know what to do about it.”
Theo studied me for a moment before shaking his head. “You’re afraid.”
I tensed. “I’m not—”
“You are. You’re afraid of what The Hyperion means for you. Just like you’re afraid of what Jihyo means to you.”
I scowled. “Those are two completely different things.”
Theo gave me a pointed look. “Are they? Both are a part of your life now. Both are something you can’t seem to define. And both scare the hell out of you.”
I looked away, jaw tightening.
Theo sighed, his expression softening just a little. “Look, man. I get it. It’s a lot. You found out you’re not who you thought you were, and now you’ve got this whole other part of you that you don’t fully understand. But ignoring it won’t make it easier. And pushing people away won’t either.”
I exhaled slowly. “I’m not pushing Jihyo away.”
“Aren’t you?” Theo raised an eyebrow. “You say you love her, but you won’t tell her. You take care of her, but you won’t let yourself have her. And now you’re telling me you don’t even know how she wants to be loved? Dios, my guy, ask her.”
I let out a humorless chuckle. “You make it sound so simple.”
Theo shrugged. “Maybe it is. Or maybe you’re just making it harder than it needs to be.”
I stared at him, then shook my head with a small laugh. “You know, for a guy who spends half his time fixing cars, you sure love psychoanalyzing me.”
Theo grinned. “It’s a gift.”
I exhaled, picking up the wrench again just to have something to hold. Maybe Theo was right. Maybe I was making it harder than it needed to be.
But there were still too many things I couldn’t just ignore. The HDF hounding me to come back. The fact that I had a world-destroying engine fused to my very being. I didn’t want to be in the limelight anymore, while Jihyo was a massively public figure.
I wasn’t afraid.
I was just… overwhelmed.
The Return of the Battle Brigade
And right now, the only thing I could do was take it one day at a time.
Here’s a refined version with the addition of the Battle Brigade members asking Dios about his life, and his revelation about living with Jihyo for the past year:
⸝
After we left the garage, Theo led me to the HDF’s main hall, where the very thing I had dreaded came crashing into reality.
In big, bright letters, several banners hung from the rafters, practically screaming—
“BATTLE BRIGADE HAS RETURNED!”
I groaned in open sorrow, dragging a hand down my face. The memories hit me like a truck.
I remembered what it felt like to be that young, idealistic recruit—before the weight of war had settled into my bones before we had been forced to grow up too fast. We had been heroes, sure, but not just to the world. To each other.
And yet, the battles had left their mark. Some of us had come out stronger. Others… not so much.
I wasn’t sure how to parse the emotions surging in my chest. Anger? Grief? Maybe both.
Theo gave me a knowing look. “You could just turn around right now.”
I scoffed. “And you know that’s not an option.”
Before he could reply, a voice rang out from across the hall.
“NO. FREAKING. WAY.”
I barely had time to brace myself before I was tackled into a tight, crushing hug. A head of shock-white hair buried itself against my chest, followed by a laugh I hadn’t heard in years.
“Dios, you slippery bastard! I thought you were dead!”
I blinked down at the woman currently squeezing the air out of my lungs. “Hello to you too, Liora.”
She pulled back, her amber eyes gleaming as she gave me a once-over. “Damn, you got buffer since we last saw you and taller. What, you hit the gym between saving the world?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.
Liora grinned, about to say something else when another familiar voice cut in.
“Well, well. Look who decided to show his face.”
I turned to find Kaisa leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, her usual smirk playing at her lips. Unlike Liora, she didn’t rush to greet me—no, Kaisa never rushed anything. But the spark of amusement in her sharp green eyes told me she was very entertained by my suffering.
“You look good, Dios,” Kaisa admitted, pushing off the pillar and strolling closer. “A little more broody than I remember, but hey, suits you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Great to see you too, Kaisa.”
And then—
“GREENIE!”
I barely had time to react before a massive arm wrapped around my neck and yanked me into an aggressively affectionate headlock.
“Oh, for—Gael, let go of me!” I grunted, struggling as the largest member and leader of our old team all but dragged me around like a ragdoll.
Gael let out a booming laugh. “Come on, man, you know you missed us!”
Theo, standing off to the side, looked incredibly amused. “You were the Green Brigader?”
“Don’t say it out loud,” I muttered, still trapped in Gael’s iron grip.
“Dude, you totally were,” Liora teased. “All jokes and bad puns until the villains got scary, then bam! You turned into a tragic, brooding hero.”
Gael released me just enough for me to breathe, clapping me on the back so hard I nearly face-planted. “Nah, he was always a softie. Just took him a while to figure it out.”
Kaisa smirked. “And now he’s back. Tell me, Dios—how’s life outside the spandex?”
I groaned, shoving Gael off and straightening my jacket. “I knew I should’ve just turned around.”
Liora snickered. “Too late, Greenie. You’re stuck with us now.”
And just like that—despite the weight in my chest, despite everything that had changed—I couldn’t help but smile.
After the usual round of teasing and laughter, the mood shifted, and Liora’s smile softened as she studied me. “So, seriously, what happened to you? You look so different. I remember the last battle… when you took on D-Reaper alone while we were out of commission. You almost died when Chaos Breaker showed up.”
I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Yeah. Chaos Breaker interrupted the duel and blasted me with his total annihilation beam. But D-Reaper saved me by fusing me with his Star-Vader Engine.”
Gael frowned, his brow furrowed in concern. “We didn’t know.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. I was able to fight in the final battle using the Star-Vader Engine to create Hyperion.”
Kaisa’s eyes lit up as she smiled. “Yeah, you practically faced him down alone. We were able to help with the Brigade Cannon, but it wasn’t the same without you.”
I paused, feeling a lump in my throat. I had always assumed they’d be fine without me, but here they were, telling me they missed me in that final battle. The thought hit harder than I expected, and I found myself sitting down, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of it all.
Liora, Gael, and Kaisa took their seats around me. They had been with me since I was a teenager. We had been through so much together, fought side by side, and it felt like so much had changed in that year.
I took a deep breath.
“I missed you guys so much,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “After the final battle, I felt so alone. I was… broken. We won, but I couldn’t move on.”
Theo watched from the corner with a raised eyebrow but said nothing, letting me have my moment.
“I was the happy-go-lucky, silly youngest member, but now…” I trailed off, feeling the weight of it. I wasn’t the same anymore. I had to grow up too fast.
My friends exchanged looks, surprised by the vulnerability I was showing, by the shift in me. The same kid who had always been the comic relief and the one who took the jokes was now someone they couldn’t quite recognize—taller, stronger, and weighed down by the past.
Gael, Kaisa, and Liora pulled me into a tight group hug, their arms strong and steady. “We won’t leave you, Dragon. Not again.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and let the tears fall. The dam had broken, and all the emotions I had buried came flooding to the surface.
Finally, after a long moment, Liora pulled back slightly and gave me a knowing look. “So… do you still have that crush on the singer, Jihyo?”
I blinked, feeling the familiar flush creeping up my neck. “What—? That’s—”
Gael smirked. “Come on, man. You’re gonna tell us or what? You’ve been tiptoeing around it since day one.”
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly. “Fine, yeah. I… I have. And, uh, we’ve actually been living together for the last year.”
Kaisa raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what? You’re living with Jihyo?”
I nodded. “Yeah. We, uh, we kinda—well, it just… happened.”
The others exchanged surprised glances before Liora broke the silence with a grin. “Well, damn, Dios. You’ve been holding out on us. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
I groaned, but a smile tugged at my lips. “I wasn’t exactly advertising it.”
Gael let out a deep laugh. “I’ll be damned. The kid’s all grown up.”
Absolutely! Here’s a sidebar scene where Jihyo and her TWICE teammates watch the press conference, recognizing Dios:
The practice room was a mix of exhaustion and laughter as TWICE wrapped up their final rehearsal for the day. The lights above buzzed lightly, and the girls were all stretching, catching their breath after the intense routine.
“Good job today, everyone!” Jihyo called out, her voice warm as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. She glanced around the room, taking in the satisfied expressions of her members, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Dios. It had been a few hours since they’d spent time together. Between her schedule and his work calling him in today, they had barely seen each other.
“Jihyo ah, you okay? You’ve been a little spaced out lately,” Nayeon asked, her playful tone catching Jihyo’s attention.
Jihyo smiled sheepishly. “I’m fine. Just… a lot going on, you know?”
Before Nayeon could press further, Mina, who had been scrolling through her phone, spoke up. “Hey, the HDF’s holding a press conference. Looks like they’re announcing something about the Battle Brigade.”
Jihyo’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Battle Brigade. She knew Dios winced when they were mentioned but he never said anything else about it.
“Let’s watch it,” Jihyo suggested, her voice quieter now.
The girls gathered around Mina’s phone as the press conference began. The HDF spokesperson stepped up to the podium, beaming with excitement.
“Today, we’re proud to announce the return of the original Battle Brigade, who will now be training the next generation of defenders,” the spokesperson said, his voice booming through the speakers. “They have stood on the frontlines, saving the world countless times, and now, they will pass on their knowledge to the new recruits. The heroes of yesterday are here to lead the heroes of tomorrow.”
Jihyo felt her heart race as the footage switched to the familiar faces of the Battle Brigade. Liora, Gael, Kaisa… and then the camera panned to Dios.
Her breath caught in her throat. No way…
There he was—her Dios. Battle Brigader Green, standing tall, looking different but unmistakably him. His expression was serious, a far cry from the house husband she boasted about and knew, but the familiar glint in his eyes remained. The green jacket, the posture—it was all there. He was with his teammates, standing proud, and yet, there was an unspoken tension in his demeanor, a weight that spoke to everything he had been through.
The moment the camera lingered on Dios, Jihyo’s thoughts scattered. Her teammates were murmuring around her, but she could only focus on him. Battle Brigader Green… Her heart thudded in her chest.
“Dios?” Dahyun spoke up, her voice filled with surprise. “That’s the you not boyfriend boyfriend, right?”
Jihyo nodded slowly, her throat tight. “Yeah… that’s him. Dios. I—” She stopped herself. She had so many questions, so many things to say, but at this moment, all she could do was watch.
Momo leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Wait… that’s him? I knew he was special, but he’s a legend. No wonder you’ve been so distracted lately, Jihyo-ah.”
“Jihyo, you didn’t tell us he was a hero!” Nayeon teased, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “This is like a drama waiting to happen!”
Jihyo could barely bring herself to smile. She was still caught in the wave of emotions from seeing Dios on the screen. It was overwhelming—both the pride she felt for him and the confusion that still lingered between them. She had no idea how to process this new layer of his life, especially when she had only known him as the guy she lived with.
Jeongyeon gave Jihyo a knowing look, her expression softening. “You should talk to him about this. It looks like he’s really going through something.”
Jihyo nodded absently, her gaze still glued to the screen. The press conference continued, but her mind was elsewhere. Dios… Battle Brigader Green… The realization hit her like a wave. She had no idea just how far his past reached, how much weight he was carrying on his shoulders.
“Jihyo?” Sana’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”
She blinked, then forced a small smile. “Yeah… I’m just… I didn’t expect to see him like this.”
“Didn’t expect to see him like this?” Nayeon raised an eyebrow. “I think we need a full debrief on this guy.”
Jihyo looked at her teammates, a small laugh escaping her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I think I need to process this.”
With a final glance at the screen, where Dios was now shaking hands with some of the HDF officials, Jihyo couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that things between them were about to change. She knew the Battle Brigade had returned to train the new generation, but for her… the news had made her realize just how little she truly knew about Dios.
And now… I need to figure out how to be there for him. Really there.
Deluge
Later that night, after leaving the HDF, I found myself back at the apartment, sitting on the couch in the dim light of the living room. The city outside hummed faintly, the glow of neon signs seeping through the blinds, but my focus was elsewhere. My mind had been restless ever since Theo had opened his mouth.
“You say you love her, but you won’t tell her.”
It wasn’t that simple. It never was.
Jihyo was in the next room, probably getting ready for bed, moving around with the same quiet ease she always did when she knew I was deep in my thoughts. She had a way of understanding when to push and when to give me space. And maybe that was part of the problem—she understood me too well.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, exhaling slowly as I tried to unpack the mess in my head. I wasn’t good at this—at feelings, at relationships, at trying to name things that didn’t fit neatly into words. But Jihyo… she unraveled something in me that I didn’t know how to put back together.
When I thought of her, it wasn’t just a single feeling. It was everything at once.
A deluge.
Her laughter, was unguarded and bright, like sunlight breaking through clouds. The way her voice could settle something deep in my chest, or send my heart racing when she said my name in that certain way. The sheer gravity of her presence, how she could fill a room effortlessly, how she could make me feel like I was the only one in it.
It was the small things, too. The way she’d steal my hoodies even though she had a closet full of designer clothes. How she’d curl up on the couch with my laptop and act like she wasn’t watching my ridiculous sci-fi shows when she absolutely was. The way she’d lean into me absentmindedly, touch casual but grounding like she didn’t even have to think about it.
I wanted her. Not just in a romantic way—though, yeah, that too—but in a way that felt fundamental. Like I didn’t know how to exist without her anymore.
And that scared the hell out of me.
I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to sort through the chaos, but it was useless. I was drowning in it.
“You’re thinking too loud.”
I looked up. Jihyo was standing in the doorway, wearing one of my old t-shirts, hair damp from the shower. She gave me a soft, knowing smile as she walked over, plopping onto the couch beside me, close enough that our knees brushed.
She didn’t ask what was wrong. She just waited.
I hesitated, then exhaled. “It’s overwhelming, sometimes.”
Jihyo tilted her head. “What is?”
I gestured vaguely between us. “This. You.”
Something flickered in her gaze—curiosity, amusement, maybe something softer. “Overwhelming good or overwhelming bad?”
I let out a dry laugh. “Yes.”
Jihyo huffed, nudging me with her shoulder. “Idiot.”
I didn’t deny it.
For a long moment, we sat in silence, the weight of my unspoken words settling between us. Jihyo didn’t press. She never did.
But maybe Theo was right. Maybe I was making this harder than it needed to be.
So, without thinking too hard about it, I turned to her and said, “You’re the most important person in my life.”
She blinked, surprised by the sudden confession. “Well… yeah,” she said like it was obvious. “Same.”
I swallowed. “No, I mean… really.”
Jihyo’s expression shifted, the teasing edge falling away. She studied me for a moment, then reached out, threading her fingers through mine. Warm. Steady.
“You don’t have to figure everything out right now, you know,” she murmured.
I breathed in, then out.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I didn’t have to have the words just yet. Maybe this—her hand in mine, the quiet understanding between us—was enough.
For now.
Her fingers curled around mine, warm and steady, grounding me in the middle of the storm inside my head.
Jihyo had always been patient with me—understanding in a way I didn’t know how to deserve. She let me sit in my own silence without demanding I speak, let me process things at my own pace, never once making me feel like I was wrong for not knowing how to say what she probably already knew.
But maybe that was the problem.
She knew. She always knew.
And still—she was waiting.
I stared at our hands, at the way her thumb brushed over my knuckles absentmindedly as if she wasn’t even thinking about it. Like touching me was second nature. And suddenly, that deluge I had been drowning in—the weight of everything I felt for her—crashed through me all at once, too much, too strong.
I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
I turned toward her before I could second-guess myself before the fear of getting it wrong could stop me.
“Jihyo.” My voice was rough, unsteady.
She looked up at me, and the moment our eyes met, I knew.
She had been waiting for this.
I exhaled sharply, my free hand lifting on instinct, fingertips ghosting over her cheek before I had the chance to think better of it. She leaned into my touch without hesitation, like she had been waiting for me to close the space between us.
And I did.
The moment my lips met hers, the dam inside me broke.
It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t careful. It was everything I had been holding back, everything I had been too afraid to give a name to, pouring out of me like a flood.
Jihyo met me just as fiercely, fingers tightening around mine, the other hand curling into the front of my shirt as if she was pulling me closer, keeping me there. Like she needed this as much as I did.
I had kissed people before. This wasn’t my first. But this—this was different.
This was a confession.
This was every emotion I couldn’t put into words.
I pulled her closer, drinking her in, letting her warmth seep into me, letting myself feel every bit of her against me. And for the first time in a long, long time, I wasn’t afraid of it.
Jihyo was the one to break the kiss first, but she didn’t go far. She lingered close, her forehead resting against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the space between us.
“You really suck at talking about your feelings,” she murmured, voice breathless but teasing.
I huffed a laugh, eyes still closed. “Yeah. I know.”
She squeezed my hand. “But I get it now.”
I finally opened my eyes to find her already looking at me, soft and knowing in the way she always was.
“You have me, too,” she whispered. “Just in case you didn’t know.”
Something in my chest tightened—then unraveled.
I let out a shaky breath and nodded.
“Yeah,” I murmured, thumb brushing over her cheek. “I know.”
And then I kissed her again. When I broke the kiss her big brown eyes stared at me expectantly she smiled and then pouted.
She looked at me expectantly before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me you were Battle Brigader Green,” Jihyo asked.
Dios sighed and said, “Do you want the honest answer or the short answer?”
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