#even tho we sort of can tell what they looked like
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historyartthings Ā· 4 months ago
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truth be known I was on Pinterest browsing Tudor-era art and this popped up. Oh my days! look at these!
Full credit goes to: ā€˜kirstenmariechrā€™ on Pinterest
(She has a few different versions so I thought Iā€™d post a couple together)
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The talent! The vision! Itā€™s really wonderful
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simcardiac-arrested Ā· 3 months ago
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zavijava info PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!! PLEASEEEEE ZAVIJAVA COME HOME ... PLEASE .... umm um um ill tell you about umm . tma au im making for nastya if u tell me about her .PLEASE!!!!!!!
so she is definitely a star of some kind. i mean she is an angel but in that story in particular The Stars are kind of angels. like theyā€™re otherworldly beings and they jus kinda hang out. cosmically. itā€™s a different dimension separated from the human one but like, obviously stars still exist for humans, they just donā€™t do anything crazy because the rules of the world dictate that their realities shouldnā€™t interact. angels can observe the other world from far up above yet they still exist on a different level. But tbh zavijava had never enjoyed the otherworldly ethereal whatever lifestyleā€”she just didnā€™t feel like she fit in there. she is a #1 humans fan though so she knows thatā€™s where sheā€™d fit in. so she does just that. she fits in perfectly :) and normally :) yay :)
#see the thing with zavijava is that there isnā€™t much info to share on her just on account of her being what she is#she is like a Concept trying to humanize and shove herself into a box#itā€™s like asking a rock what it likes. a rock canā€™t like anything it just sort of exists#thatā€™s zavi babey#thatā€™s not to say she doesnā€™t desperately try to like anything and everything . and thatā€™s precisely what she ends up doing#she loves everything ! but she doesnā€™t really understand it or have a genuine connection to anything just by virtue of not being part of the#world. itā€™s like having a 6d being try to exist in a 3d space. very limiting. very incomprehensible for the 6d being#so her enjoyment of things (debatable if sheā€™s even Capable of feeling Anytning) is artificial in a way#she is Uncanny Valley she reflects humans she does not really have an inner world or proper opinions of her own#so like she Does really love humans and everything about their world. but no specifics or a detailed understanding of them & it#as much as she likes humans she does not grasp their concepts like at all. Or only in a rudimentary manner#haze could explain to her why some people walk holding hands and she would be like Wow i guess that means we are married :) because we are#always together :) we can even hold hands too :) (she tries to hold his hand and he immediately starts seeing the hat man)#so yea. tldr. sheā€™s more of a concept made character so thereā€™s not a lot of Character Info on her#sheā€™s more of a force#cramswering#idk if any of that is a coherent fucking explanation LOL sheā€™s just kinda dream-like in that sense. idk#like yknow the way humans canā€™t truly comprehend eldritch beings or non euclidian shapes or whatever#the eldritch being in turn is not fated to understand da humans ā€¦.#& anyways for now the rest of the stars are aware that zavijava is Goofing but itā€™s not urgent enough to send someone after her. yetttt#tho hell dude 2 angels in the world would probably make it implode instantly so maybe thatā€™s why theyā€™re hesitant to do anything#also yea idk if this needs to be said but those angels arent tied to religion or humans really. theyā€™re not guardian angels theyā€™re just#Things that exist on a different Plane Of Existence. parallel to the human world#they watch over it but not in a guardian responsibility way#just sort of in a Itā€™s Something To Look At way#ok yeah itā€™s 1:30am too by the way so i think thatā€™s enough incomprehensible eldritch rambling#tell me about ur au boy
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the-acid-pear Ā· 8 months ago
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Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.
#luly talks#my dreams#I'll peace like i can recollect it was weird#bc it literally was ME BUYING GROCERIES W MY DAD but then the line between when we ended and Michael and William started blurred#i remember the grocery store very well also bc it was very similar to the one i go always to but smaller and more sepia#it was dark for a grocery store like it was just letting sunlight in#pears were half off like some black friday offer so all the products were suuuper cheap#i saw one bottle of milky pear juice for like 1k. and the same w these 4 stacks of frozen waffles who were like 1070.#or this bottle of pear pancake mixture that had 2 or 4 lts#it was kind of when i went away that thr lines started blurring so let me tell you what i remember about this Afton:#he didnt seem. murderous. he was grocery shopping w his kid for fuck's sake šŸ˜­ i think he was even sitting somewhere while i ran back and#forth taken aback by these offers? like kinda dismissive at best#uh. Henry was brought up believe it or not. it was like... they broke up or something? like he was kinda upset about the mention but like#in a i dont want to explain why im not with him rn sort of way#very insecure he seemed. like he run into this woman who might've been someone but idk who was whom asked sbout henry and bro was SWEATING#you'd say dream william was a fucking loser he just got locked in thinking like what do i say and HOW do i say it#to make it sound casual but also not weird.#bc on top of all he also seemed to have some weird gender things going on bc he first instinct when trying to explain himself to the woman#(who i cannot stress enough was super friendly like a fucking neighbor or something just going hey hi! hows da family? ^_^)#was to refer to them both as girls as this jokey comradery Let's Ignore The Topic thing before going No That's Bad I Can't Say That#this whole internal monologue in my dream happened in a sort of comic panel thing btw where shit went from these warm browns and greens and#shit from the grocery store to jarring black and whites and reds as William tried to have a straight thought#looks wise unfortunately not a lot going on.though considering this was literally my dream getting turned over can we say my Afton is argie#something something my turn stealing from them etc etc or whatever#uh. brown hair. but not too dark. it was greying and that was making it lighter. also very angular face as you'd expect#high cheekbones pretty eyebrows no facial hair. hair was a bit longuish tho? like a messy ear length maybe?#he had a button up w buttons lose bc it's so hot and humid rn also sunglasses which i know 100% was influenced bc the last design i rbed#a little.before napping#also he had age makes too though his age was most visible in his scrawny long exposed neck#me/mike change was minimal bc we're both pale and brunette hit tag limit so hope y'all like my brain's oc i guess šŸ˜­
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arolesbianism Ā· 7 months ago
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Hi guys guess who's literally shaking rn from excitement
#rat rambles#oni posting#beta moments. explodes.#now as expected not everything is fully implemented and I imagine theres going to be more logs and such when the main story trait of this#planetoid is fully implimented in the actual dlc when it releases#but there are still some new logs that can be viewed already and Holy Shit#ok ok so first of all we have confirmation that gossmann is her last name and her first name starts with an e#I also am amazed at my hc of harold being a dad being true like yo I actually nailed it with that hc#however that news is far outshadowed by the fact that pretty much all of my jackie childhood hcs being completely obliterated#and by completely I mean COMPLETELY like its not even like a detailed retelling or anything its just an email#but as I honestly kind of expected my hcs are completely dead and gone in the wind rest in peace jackie hcs#Im honestly completely ok with this tho as while I did like my hcs ot definitely was the sort of thing I did not want to be canon#like honestly the fact that this implies that jackie actually has a decent relationship with her family is perfect to me#I also like how it gives us another bit of insight on jackie's life outside of gravitas without her even saying anything directly#its going to be sad to move away from my old hcs but I am honestly kind of digging the new implications#wait a minute#ok now I need to know what the family tree here looks like jackie are those your parents and are they divorced this is important#WAIT I NOTICED A SECOND THING#ok well first of all one of the presumably jackie relatives is a colonel which like so fucking lines up with how jackie is#but also I think that some of the other new logs might also be abt jackie relatives#one of the new logs in fact directly mentions a colonel#in fact the log in question seems to be a part of another trio of logs that probably are abt different outcomes of the same event#they seem to be about an incident that either resulted in the injury death or successful recovery efforts of a crew of piolets#with the one that ended up being able to be saved being credited to the colonel (telling us they were almost certainly in the air force)#all three end with gravitas showing some form of hostility towards the vertex institute for some reason or another#and in the two where things go wrong stretches out an invitation for those affected to apply at gravitas instead#and the one where things turn out ok theres mention of claims of corporate espionage#which I find Facinating on so many levels in either direction this could go#to be clear these three logs are written in a very broken up manner as they seem to be corrupted radio programs or smth#anyways this is all to say that smth fucked up happened over there and it has the chance to make jackie so So much worse
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nerdie-faerie Ā· 8 months ago
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This has got to be the worst move out yet
#packing perils#student living#Uni shenanigans#ace is a mess#oh my god. okay so we start on Tuesday ive been gradually moving my stuff over to my friends house#cus were moving in together in September and shes staying in her place over the summer so well have everything in one place to move in#so take some stuff over to hers on tuesday before her shift then we walk to work together i collect her keys and say bye#go back to mine pack up some more stuff warned her i planned on doing 2 trips while she was working so start figuring out whats going#end up with two tote bags a crate a box and a large bag of boxes decide ill take the heavier tote bag and the box on the first trip#as i cant really carry much else with the box due to its awkward size even though its not particularly heavy and cut through the park to#shave off some time feel pretty good when i get there it wasnt unbareable esp after Saturday when carrying 4 heavy shopping bags ended up#covering me in bruises and scratches and messing my back shoulder and neck up so i feel like underestimated myself on this trip and like i#can take everything on the next trip well its already late in the day cus my mate does evening shift so by time i get back its half 9 so i#decide to cut through the park again to save time but the large shopping bag with my saucepans casserole dish etc is difficult to carry due#to how bulky it is and the crate tho it has handles is also unwieldy so my arms are being bruised and scratched up i cant waste time carryin#everything back home just to put one thing down at this point but im considering putting the biggest bag down in some overgrown plants in#the park speeding to my mates and coming back for it its a stupid and risky idea but its getting dark the sun is almost completely set and#no matter how often i rest i just cant manage it and my damn brain starts worrying about being murdered so i ditch the bag and i can move#much quicker now so rush to my mates and rush back reassure her as im leaving hers that i am bringin her keys back its just after 11 at this#point cus its over 35 minutes to get to hers i get back to the park in just over 20 my bag is still there! and i dont get attacked get my#stuff to her room then hustle to get to her job before she finishes at 12 get there a few minutes to spare shes not ready to go yet anyway#she tells me shes not comfortable with me walking back in the dark i should stay at hers i cant ive got an assignment so she says shes#walking me to mine then going to her boyfriends 5 mins down the road get back to mine shower have dinner and crank out my Wednesday 4pm#assignment by 7am go to bed get about 2 hours sleep before tge fire alarm is tested and then ive got to be up for a meeting with our new#landlord anyway and ofc its raining come back from our meeting grab food and start packing up some more sht get buses over to hers this time#together come back pack some more hope the rain dies down a bit but it doesnt look like its stopping and i somehow fcked my foot carrying#stuff earlier so she texts a coworker asking if they can pick us up they agree so organise a few more things but then a puddle causes their#car to break down the next bus is in over half hour so mate decides shes gonna run to her boyfriends to charge her phone while we wait for#the next bus to be due while shes gone i finish sorting things she then calls asks me to book a taxi cus the rain has only gotten worse when#taxi arrives realise that student accom is basically flooded deciding what to do while at hers cus the weather is unbareable she goes to get
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hyprfixate Ā· 2 months ago
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a genetic disposition (to loving you) :: [BC x Reader]
read on AO3
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summary: seeing chan at the genetic clinic when he told you he was too busy to hang out was one thing. noticing he was now significantly taller than he was a couple weeks ago was another.
learning he's been diagnosed with the werewolf disorder is something different entirely.
pairing: bang chan x reader
tropes: childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, idiots in love, modern werewolf au, no transformations tho, chronically ill reader, reader has EDS (ehlers danlos syndrome), some angst, slight miscommunication trope
smut warning: masturbation (m), handjobs, blink-and-you-miss-it subby chan, voyeurism, pussy eating (x2), no actual ABO dynamics but that's not stopping Chan from calling himself Alpha, dirty talk, lots of begging, standing/wall sex, cumming inside AND cumming outside.
content warning: talks about being in pain, self deprecating talk, anxiety spirals, very brief internalized ableism, panic attack
word count: 21.6k
author's note: if you saw the three different attempts to post this, no you didn't. enjoy! <3
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Chan was acting weird.
To be fair, he always acts weird. Weird might actually be his default. But this was a different type of weirdā€“ a weird that involved canceling plans last minute and making up flimsy excuses about why.Ā 
Today, he was supposed to accompany you to your doctor's appointment. A simple, low stakes kind of hangout. You looked at your phone with a sigh.
Channie: sorry, can we do a raincheck for our hangout? not to sound like a fuckboy but something came up
Channie: i really am sorry babygirl. i'll make it up to you i promise. please tell me how it goes okay?
You let out a small huff of air. You would love to be annoyed, mad even, but at the end of the day, this is Chan, your best friend since elementary school. The guy who held you through heartbreaks and stressful semesters. The guy who memorized your ridiculously complicated Dunkin order. The guy who dropped everything to stay with you at the hospital a few months ago when things got really bad.
The guy you're secretly in love with.
Okay, maybe that was a minor and insignificant detail in the grand scheme of things. Either way, you can't be mad at Chan.Ā 
You: don't worry channie. i'll be okay. I hope your stuff goes well ok?Ā 
Channie: love u, good luck with your appointment, it's gonna be ok
Right. Your appointment.
You'd been having some increasingly bothersome and worrying symptoms for the better part of 2 years now. It started with a noticeable dull ache in your knees that wouldn't go away, reaching a peak now where there's not a single day you wake up pain free. The doctors were just as stumped as you were, and as sort of a last ditch effort, they sent you to a geneticist in the expensive part of the city. Thank goodness for adequate health insurance.
You were a bit nervous, which is why you asked Chan to come with you, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You've been to specialists before.Ā 
Still, disappointment rises in your chest as you finish pulling your hair away from your face and securing it with a scrunchie before grabbing your essentials and heading out the door. You're more disappointed about the fact that he's not coming instead of what he's not coming to. You're getting a little weary and tired of the excuses and him bailing on plans.Ā 
But then you think about the way his voice sounds when he calls you babygirl, and everything seems right again.
The trip to the geneticist office is long, and by the time you arrive, you feel the exhaustion in every joint. For such a high caliber place, it's decorated just as sterile and modern as you were expecting, with white walls and white furniture. When you go to check in, the receptionist hands you a tablet with various forms pulled up and points you to the waiting room.
You settle into one of the white waiting room chairs, balancing the iPad on your lap as you begin working through the forms. The questions start simple enough - name, date of birth, insurance information. Then they get more involved, diving into your medical history.
Have you experienced any of the following symptoms in the last six months?
The list that follows is daunting - joint pain (obviously), muscle weakness (sometimes), unexplained fatigue (who doesn't have that?), difficulty concentrating (depends on the day). You find yourself checking more boxes than you'd like.
Your mind drifts to Chan again. You wonder what was so important that he had to cancel. Usually, he at least gives you a concrete excuse, even if it's something silly like having to wash his hair or visit his parents. Today's vague "something came up" feels different. Worrying.
Before you can stop yourself, you pull out your phone.
You: this intake paperwork feels like the ending of a medication commercial
You: iā€™m surprised they haven't asked me if i or a loved one has been diagnosed with mesothelioma
The message stays on delivered for a while, longer than you expect. You give up on staring at your phone and turn your attention back to the paperwork.
After a ridiculous amount of questions and an even more ridiculous amount of signatures, you finish the preliminary stuff, heading back to the receptionist desk to hand her the iPad. She gives you a polite nod and smile and lets you know the nurse will be out in a second, so you can wait in the small chair by the double doors.
You're lost in thought, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear the gentle sound of your name called. The sound makes you look up, tucking your phone away and grabbing your bag. A nurse stands by the double doors, clipboard in hand, wearing deep purple scrubs and a smile that somehow makes the sterile environment feel a little more human.
You push yourself up from the chair, joints starting their songs of protest after sitting still for so long. The nurse offers pleasantries that you respond to with your usual politeness. As you're walking towards the open door, you hear a beep and the whirr of an electronic lock unlocking. The closed side of the door swings open andā€“
There's Chan.
You both freeze mid-step, eyes wide and locked on each other like this is the first time you're seeing each other in years. It feels like it, but you did just see him last weekend at a mutual friend's birthday party. It was a fun night, but he was acting strange and dodgy then, too.
something came up.
You squint at him, not sure whether confusion or anger is winning the war in you right now. He opens his mouth once, twiceā€“ words are failing. The most he can do is let out a shaky, ā€œBabygirlā€¦ā€
You take that moment to really look at him. His hair is in its natural curly state, but significantly more messy than usual, wisps falling over and around themselves. His eyes are red and bagged heavily, and his shoulders seem like they're scrunching in on themselves. He hasn't looked like this since that night in the hospital with you.
Something is definitely wrong.Ā 
The nurse clears her throat, and you remember you're being waited on. You motion wordlessly towards the nurse and he gives you a shaky nod.Ā Ā 
ā€œI'll, um. I'll text you,ā€ he mumbles weakly, holding the door open for you as you walk past. When you do, you can't help but look up at him, like way, way up. More than you usually do. You almost pause againā€“ are your bone problems making you shrink, or is he somehow taller? Why does he look like that?
It's you who nods shakily this time, forcing yourself to tear your eyes away so you don't bump into a wall. It takes concentrated effort not to look back at him while you walk down the hallway, but somehow you manage.
The nurse brings you to an exam room and tells you to sit tight while she gets the vitals cart. You obey, still dazed and confused and maybe even a little hurt if you allow yourself to really feel it. Your phone buzzes less than a minute later, and you don't even have to guess who it is.
Channie: i'm so sorry.
Channie: i can explain. i promise.
Channie: i just.. i need some time before i can
Channie: im such a fucking idiot. i'm so sorry babygirl. please.Ā 
There are a million and one responses in your head, each with varying levels of confusion or annoyance. But, among the haze, the image of his exhaustion floats back to you, and you find yourself folding.
As usual.
You: breathe, Chan. it's ok.Ā 
You: whatever it is, we'll figure it out, yeah?
You: i do wish you told me but. it's okay. I can wait for an explanation.
Channie: you're so amazing. i don't deserve you.Ā 
Channie: i'll call you when you get out ok? i love u
The nurse comes back with the vitals cart and begins prepping materials before you can respond properly, so you send back a heart and slip your phone into your pocket. When the blood pressure cuff tightens around your arm, you wonder if the nurse will notice how fast your heart is beating ā€“ though you're not sure if it's from anxiety or the way Chan's voice cracked when he called you babygirl.
Maybe both.
To his credit, Chan truly does make it up to you, in the form of an extended weekend away at his parentsā€™ cabin upstate. The invitation, or request rather, comes a couple days after the geneticist incident while you're in bed feeling anxious over your test results.
Channie: picking u up thursday night, we're going to my parentsā€™ cabin till monday
Channie: had plans?
If anyone else were to text you like that, you'd balk at their audacity. But because it's Chan, there's a growing heat in your face when you simply reply:
You: no plans. promise you won't bail?
He sends you a picture of his already packed duffel bag and backpack sitting by his door, then another picture of him and his laptop that's clearly pulled up to Google Maps. His eyebrow is raised, sinfully plump lips pulled into a smirk as he points at the screen.
Channie: give me some creditt
Channie: im already packed and the route is already planned
You giggle, feeling the perpetual knot of nerves in your chest loosen. A weekend away with Chan sounds like the perfect thing. It'll be a way to get your mind off the maybes and anxieties from your appointment, and a way to spend time with your best friend.Ā 
A win-win.
You spend the next few days packing and gathering supplies for a weekend at the cabin, which isn't as simple a task as it sounds. Chan is adamant that you worry about nothing except getting your stuff together, so he won't tell you what he has planned or what to pack. After losing many back and forth arguments, you toss a little bit of everything in your small suitcase, leaving your backpack for entertainment and snack purposes.
Thursday creeps up slowly, then all at once. Unfortunately, you wake up to deep pain in almost all of your jointsā€“ even your fingers seem to be screaming with every movement. Getting ready takes longer than you want, but you push through, and it isn't long before you're sitting on your living room couch, waiting for Chan to let you know to come out. It was a wonder what large amounts of Ibuprofen could do.
You hear the familiar puttering of his engine before his text even comes through, the soft ding of your phone cutting through your apartment.
Channie: i'm here babygirl
Channie: coming up to help w ur bagsĀ 
A warm flutter runs through your chest at his thoughtfulness. You're not sure you'll ever really get used to it.Ā 
You push yourself up from the couch, breath hitching when the movement causes a dull ache to radiate down the length of your legs. You pause, gripping the arm of the couch and squeezing your eyes shut for a moment.
It's fine, you reason with yourself. It's not that bad. You're fine.
You're thankful that you had the foresight to pack a suitcase instead of a duffle, at least this way you'll have something to bear your weight on while you walk.
Your jacket is slipped over one shoulder when you hear the buzz from your doorbell. Chan's smiling face greets you when you open the door, looking both insanely handsome andā€“
ā€œAm I shrinking, or are you growing?ā€
He's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his massive chest, which is somewhat concealed by the oversized sweater he's wearing. You want to scold him for such a light outer layer in the bitter late autumn, but your words get stuck in your throat as you find yourself tilting your head up further than usual to look at him.
And then you give yourself the pleasure of really looking at him.
His hair is its usual wispy, beautiful mess. He cards his fingers through it as he looks at you, smiling as though about to say something, when suddenly his smile drops, his eyebrows furrowed as he stands up straight.
ā€œYou're in pain.ā€
Itā€™s not a question.Ā  He's providing the information to you as fact. You blink in surprise.
ā€œYes, I am, but how did youā€“ā€
"I canā€“ā€ He cuts himself off, looking uncertain for a moment before shaking his head. "I just know you, babygirl. You're not putting much weight on your left leg, anyway."
Hm. He caught you there.
ā€œHow bad is it?ā€
You finish shrugging on your jacket. ā€œUm, maybe six out of ten. But I took medicine, I should beā€“ Are you sweating?ā€
It's a stupid question, because he is, and you don't need a verbal response to confirm it. Sweat is beating at his temples and dampening his hair. Something flickers across his face, but then his expression is back to normal again.Ā 
You watch him flip through a million different responses in his mind, but before he settles on one, he spots your bags next to the door and goes to grab them, slinging your backpack over his shoulder with profound ease. He's moving so fast and he's so jittery that you barely get a second to process everything.
ā€œChan,ā€ you finally say when he whizzes past you again to put your remote back in the organizer. He pauses, back stiffening like he's a little kid again about to be scolded. He turns to you slowly. ā€œAre you okay?ā€
You watch him take a deep, shuddering breath, his entire body seeming to expand and contract. The unnatural stiffness in his body seems like he's forcing himself to stay still, and you see his finger drumming patterns on his thigh.
You repeat his name, softer this time. ā€œWhat's wrong?ā€
He shakes his head a bit too fast. ā€œNo, nothing, Iā€“ā€ He runs his fingers through his hair, pausing to grip the roots to ground himself to this moment. It works for a second. ā€œI'mā€¦ okay. I can explain everything later babygirl, I justā€¦ I really just want to focus on spending time with you.ā€
There's a raw edge to his voice that makes your chest tighten. You study his face, taking in the exhaustion, the sheen from sweat, the way his eyes won't meet yours. Every instinct screams that something is wrong, butā€¦
ā€œOkay,ā€ you relent with a sigh. It should be embarrassing how easily you fold for him. It should maybe even be studied. ā€œBut you promise that you'll explain?ā€
He deflates, eyes brightening with relief. ā€œI promise. Chris-Cross my heart.ā€ He punctuates his sentence by putting his hand over his chest.
You can't help the smile that takes over your face at thatā€“ the reference to the silly rhyme you'd made up when you were kids based on his English name. A bit of the anxiety in your chest loosens. ā€œNow let's go before the traffic gets unbearable.ā€
You grab your keys and headphones, giving your apartment one last glance over before following Chan out of the door. By the time you finish locking up, he's already halfway to the elevator, his abnormally long legs quickening his pace. As you try to catch up with him, you can't help but notice his statureā€“ how his shoulders seem broad under his sweater, how he just seemsā€¦ more.
The elevator ride to the parking garage under your apartment building is quiet, but not uncomfortably. Chan is humming something under his breath, his increasingly restless fingers tapping out the rhythm on his leg. Despite all of it, you feel relaxed. No matter what's going on, this is still your Chan, your person.Ā 
He tosses your bags into his trunk with an ease that perks your entire body to attention. When you go to pull open the passenger door, he beats you to it, adding a dramatic flourish as he holds it open for you.
Your heart almost jumps out of your chest.
In the passenger's seat is a small pink box with a label from your favorite bakery, alongside a nice variety of drinks in the cupholder. He's got a pair of fluffy slippers on the mat by your feet, too, and you can see on the dashboard he's turned the seat warmers on.
ā€œChan,ā€ you breathe. Your heart is doing strange things in your chest, and you're either feeling extremely touched or about to pass out. ā€œYou didn't have toā€“ā€
ā€œI wanted to.ā€ You turn to look at him, and he's looking away, scratching the hair at the base of his neck. ā€œFelt like an ass, you know, being so distant and weird. Needed to make it up to you.ā€
It's entirely unfair that he can justā€¦ say those things to you. He's your best friend, so of course he's affectionateā€“ that's just how he's been since you met in third grade. What started with bringing extra GoGurts and tying your shoes when you broke your wrist has just now turned into spoiling you with cabin vacations and things you mention offhandedly that you like.Ā 
No biggie.
He nudges you in the car playfully, making some lighthearted joke about him getting too soft on you. You can barely hear him over the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, choosing instead to follow his movements in the rear view mirror. You watch as he pauses by the trunk, carding a hand through his hair and taking a big breath, before eventually making his way over to the driver's seat. He tosses his phone to you, effectively putting you on music duty, and then you're on the road in a matter of minutes.
Time with Chan is always easy. You talk about any and everything for the first hour of the drive, including his job, your lack thereof, and your appointment, and he listens to every detail carefully.Ā 
ā€œSo, they think it's a collagen issue?ā€
You nod, wiggling your feet in your new slippers as you shift your position. ā€œThey aren't entirely sure, but they're looking at collagen based connective tissue disorders, like Ehlers Danlos and Lupus. They think that could explain the other issues too.ā€
He looks contemplative as he peers around you to the mirror by your door, trying to merge into the next lane. ā€œAre you scared?ā€
You shrug, body moving with the car. ā€œIts.. complicated. On the one hand, it would be scary to receive a life changing diagnosis. On the other handā€“ā€
ā€œYou're just happy to have answers.ā€
You nod again, taking a sip of the caramel latte he bought for you and wincing as you shift again. Long drives are always hard, but paired with the changes in the pressure as the two of you drive further into the mountains, your joints feel like they might disintegrate.
ā€œScale of one to ten?ā€
You blink. Chan hadn't taken his eyes off the road, so how could he have seen you shifting? You open your mouth, prepared to lie, but he glances at you with a single eyebrow raised. You sigh.
ā€œMaybe a six,ā€ you breathe.
ā€œSo the Ibuprofen didn't help?ā€
ā€œIt did, it's just wearing off.ā€
You put the latte back in the cup holder, using your hands to bear your weight as you try to find a comfy position to sit in.Ā 
ā€œWhat do you need, babygirl?ā€
You fight the shiver his voice sends down your spine. ā€œNothing. Wellā€“ I don't know. Maybe a nap? Is that okay?ā€
ā€œā€˜Course it is. Here.ā€
With sinfully dexterous fingers, he reaches across your lap to recline your seat for you. You let him, body going still as his strong forearm helps ease you back with the chair. When you're comfortable, he reaches behind him to the floor of the backseat, fishing around until he producesā€“
ā€œIs that your couch blanket?ā€
His answering grin is soft. ā€œThe one you've been threatening to steal? Yeah. Maybe.ā€
He drapes it over you skillfully, with you having to do very minimal adjusting. The familiar, homey smell of his apartmentā€“ warmth and something else very distinctly Chan ā€“ floods your senses and wraps you in the warmest hug. It feels like coming home.
You adjust yourself again, sleep wanting to come now that you're cozy, but the dull ache in your legs doesn't want to let go. Without warning, Chan's free hand slips under the blanket and finds the knee of the leg that hurts with amazing accuracy. His hand feels blazing hot through the fabric of your sweats as he rubs his thumb in soothing circles.Ā 
ā€œThis okay, yeah?ā€ he asks, his low voice a soothing sound to your ears. Words are caught in your throat, so you can only nod, but you don't miss how the pain starts to dissolve by his touch. You also try very hard not to think about how big his hand is on your knee.
ā€œGet some rest, babygirl. I got you.ā€
The combination of his gentle touch, the music, and the smell of his blanket is making your eyelids heavy. As you finally drift off, a contented smile pulls at your mouth because no matter what, this is where you're meant to be.Ā 
This is home.
Chan wakes you up about half an hour before you're expected to arrive. However, paired with delays, the pitch blackness of the mountains, and the general unrestrainedness of Murphy's Law, you were only now getting to the cabin at just past 1am.Ā 
The cabin is beautiful, as always. It's nestled amidst a thick grove of evergreen trees, and its tall, warm wood exterior seems inviting even at the ungodly hour you two arrive. As he swings the car onto the gravel driveway, the headlights illuminate it, like itā€™s a secret just for the two of you.
ā€œCabin sweet cabin,ā€ he murmurs as he kills the engine. He picks his phone up from the cup holder and gives it a few flicks, then suddenly the porch lights come on. You give a little stretch in your seat, your joints feeling pleasantly loose and mostly pain freeā€“ the nap worked wonders.Ā 
The two of you pile out of the car, the fresh mountain air filling your nostrils. It smells like pine needles and freshwater, with an undercurrent of something wild and electric, like the air before a storm.
ā€œIs it supposed to rain?ā€
Chan barely hears you, his antsyness now back full force. He's got both of your backpacks and his duffle bag slung over his shoulders, and he goes to grab your suitcase, but you appear by his side and pull it away from him. He blinks down at you, seeming surprised to see you there.
You tilt your head to the side. He still looks sweaty, and from where you're standing, it still seems like he's radiating an insane amount of heat. His breaths are labored, and you find yourself reaching over to rub your thumb over his hand. However, once your hands connect, he jumps and pulls away like you've shocked him.
At your hurt face, he tries to backtrack. ā€œStatic,ā€ he supplies weakly. You say nothing, and the tips of his ears turn bright red. ā€œCome on, let's get you out of the cold.ā€
You try not to jump to conclusions. At the end of the day, if something is really bothering him, if something is really wrong, Chan will tell you. He has always been the brooding type, but there is but so long he can keep things from you.
Still, no matter how much you try to take things at his pace, you keep seeing his face at the clinic: the deep bags under his eyes, the messy hair. The last time you looked into those eyes and saw that same pain, you were in a hospital bed hooked up to more monitors than you could count.
Chan had been brooding then too, refusing to leave your side, asking the doctors all the right questions, keeping your parents up to date when they had to go back home. You remember one night in particular, when you were chalk full of pain meds and falling asleep under the whirr of an oxygen mask, he'd stood at your bedside and rubbed his thumb over your forehead to soothe you. You couldn't speak, too exhausted and in pain to move in any capacity, but you didn't need to. He spoke to you the entire time about everything and nothing, switching hisĀ  murmuring to quiet comforts when you started to cry. Just before sleep took you under, you met his eyesā€“ his exhausted, red rimmed eyesā€“ and he gave you the softest, most tender look.
ā€œWe'll get through it, babygirl,ā€ he had murmured. ā€œYou're gonna be okay. You'll come home.ā€
You did come home, of course, but that's when things became different. Chan was distant, constantly canceling plans, avoiding you.
You shake the memory from your head as you watch him fiddle with his keys in the lock. This weekend was meant to be about the two of you having fun. You could worry about everything else later.
Chan flicks on the overhead light in the living room area and the room floods with warmth. Everything looks just as familiar and homey as you recall.
Before you can take a good breath, he's got your bags and suitcase and is bounding up the stairs with them like they weigh nothing. You choose to busy yourself with getting comfortable, peeling off your coat and hanging it on the nearby hook.
You're tugging your hair back into a ponytail when he comes back down, and when you look up and spot him the scrunchie flies across the room.
He's taken off his hoodie, leaving him in a fitted white tee that does nothing to hide just how different his body looks. It's no secret that Chan works out, but he fills out this shirt like it was painted on him. You quickly pull your spare scrunchie from the other wrist to tie up your hair, trying not to dwell.
"Do you want me to put these in the kitchen?" you call out, holding up the bag of road trip leftovers.
"Yeah, justā€“" his voice cracks, and he clears his throat. "Just throw them on the counter. I'll organize everything later."
You pad into the kitchen, bare feet silent on the wooden floors. Everything is exactly as you remember it ā€“ the mismatched mugs in the cabinet, the worn wooden spoons in the ceramic holder, the string lights Chan installed last summer that give everything a soft glow. If you close your eyes, you could almost pretend nothing has changed.
Almost.
You find, unsurprisingly, that the cabinets and fridge are stocked full. Chan's parents likely came out to pack up some groceries when he told them you'd be coming. You find yourself leaning against an open cabinet, staring into space, your mind a million miles away.
"You okay, babygirl?ā€
You jump slightly ā€“ you hadn't heard him come up behind you. He's standing in the doorway of the kitchen, running his hands through his hair again, that restless energy still evident in every movement.
"Yeah, just..." you gesture vaguely around you. "Memories, you know?"
His expression softens, and for a moment he looks exactly like your Chan again. "Yeah, I know."
The moment stretches between you, comfortable and familiar, until your stomach decides to break it with an embarrassingly loud growl. Chan's laugh is startled but genuine.
"I don't remember that.ā€ He jokes. ā€œHungry?"
You feel your cheeks heat. "Yeah, I think so.ā€
He starts rolling his sleeves up. ā€œI could probably make some eggs and toast, ifā€“.ā€
ā€œIt's one in the morning,ā€ you scold him gently. ā€œNobody is cooking.ā€
He gives you a pout, which is comical considering his current stature, but you still feel a tug in your chest. ā€œButā€“ā€
You shake your head, turning away from him so you don't relent. ā€œNo buts. We have tons of snacks. Help me find something.ā€
At your request, the two of you rummage through the drawers and cupboards. Everything either requires too much effort or won't agree with your stomach at this ridiculous hour. You're ready to call it quits and sleep for dinner when a lightbulb goes off in your head.
ā€œOh, can I have one of your protein bars? You always buy the good kind.ā€
His smile is soft, dimples catching the light in a way that makes his entire face seem like a dream. ā€œOf course. They're in my backpack, next to the couch.ā€
You slide your way to his bag with an excited pep in your step. Chan, being who he is, always buys the amazingly expensive protein bars that manage not to taste like chalky disappointment. They're surprisingly filling, and you know they'll settle your stomach without causing a stomach ache.
You find his bag quickly in the low light of the room, squatting down to rifle through it. With your hand in the front pocket, you dig around until your fingers find something that feels like the protein bar box. In your hungry haze, you yank it out without thinking.
It is not the protein bar box.
Instead, it's a thick packet of paper. You go to put it back when the letter head of the genetic clinic you visited catches your eye, along with the words ā€œAfter-Visit Summaryā€.
Maybe if your heart wasn't thrumming in your ears, you would've heard his panicked footsteps coming after you. But the only thing in your ears is the erratic beating of your heart, one that only gets worse when you turn the packet over and read the small words on the margin:
You were seen today for: Hormonal Changes. The following issues were addressed: Genetic Lycanthrope Syndrome (Werewolf Gene).
You hear your name through the roaring in your ears. It's a soft, tentative sound that cracks around the edges. You turn, slowly, to see Chan almost right behind you, his face drained of all color and his eyes blown wide.
ā€œChan,ā€ you breathe. You turn a bit more towards him, the packet still gripped in your hand. ā€œWhatā€“ā€
"I can explain," he says quickly, desperately. His hands are shaking. "I was going to tell you, I swear, I justā€“ I needed time toā€“ā€
He trails off, looking around the room as though looking for someone to help him.
Genetic Lycanthrope Syndrome.
You came across this condition when you were researching the clinic, as they mentioned that they were the only place in the area that had the facilities to test for it. It was, as the paper put it, the werewolf gene. People with the condition experienced heightened senses of smell, increased strength, sensory sensitivitiesā€“ they were werewolves, just without the whole full moon transformation thing.
To say the condition was rare was an understatement. Both parents had to be carriers for the trait, and even then it only occurred in 25% of those births.
And Chan happened to be one of them.
Everything clicks into place now. The sudden growth spurt, the feverishly hot skin, how he knows when you're in pain without you saying a word.
ā€œThis is why you were at the clinic,ā€ you say softly. It's not a question.
He nods jerkily, still looking like he might bolt at any second. You stand up to take a step toward him and he actually backs away.
ā€œDon't,ā€ he breathes. ā€œI'mā€¦ I don't want to hurt you.ā€
ā€œHurt me?ā€ You almost laugh. ā€œChan, you're not going to hurt me. How could you think that?ā€
ā€œNo, you don't understand,ā€ he cards his hands through his hair, pausing to tug on the roots. ā€œI can'tā€¦ I don't know how to control myself yet. I'm different now, I'mā€“ā€
ā€œStill Chan.ā€
The sound he makes is painful. ā€œYou can't say that,ā€ he breathes. His hands drop to his sides again. ā€œYou don't know what it's like.ā€
ā€œSo tell me," you urge. You move as though you're about to take another step towards him, and your heart drops at how his entire body flinches. ā€œChan. Chris. Christopher. Look at me please.ā€
The use of his full name does something to him, and you watch as he settles, eyes drifting over to you slowly. His gaze is intense, and in the dim light of the living room, you feel akin to a deer staring down a wolf, no pun intended.Ā 
It does not frighten you the way it should.
ā€œTalk to me, please,ā€ you beg. ā€œYou're my best friend. I'm here for you, always.ā€
ā€œI can smell when you're in pain,ā€ he grits out. It's not what you're expecting to hear. He clenches a hand into a fist, then lets it go. ā€œYou usually smell sweet, like caramel and linen. But then your scent gets an undercurrent of something harsh, like burnt sugar and metal, and Iā€¦ I feel likeā€“ā€
He lets out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes as he cuts himself off. ā€œI can't control my strength. I've broken so much shit around the apartment. Don't wanna touch you. Don't wanna break you.ā€
ā€œYou won't hurt me.ā€ You take the opportunity to get closer, but he must smell the closing distance because his eyes fly open. You're in front of him before he can move. ā€œDo you know why?ā€
Chan's breaths are ragged and labored. ā€œWhy?ā€
ā€œBecause you're still my Chan. Still the guy who's been taking care of me since elementary school. Still the person I trust most in the world."
His breath hitches. "How can you say that? How can you just... accept this?"
You can't help the small laugh that escapes. "Chan, I'm literally at the same genetic clinic getting tested for a collagen disorder. Did you think I wouldn't understand what it's like to have your body change in ways you can't control?"
That seems to catch him off guard. He turns away, a frown tugging at his lips. "That's... that's different.ā€
ā€œIs it though?ā€ You pretend to be thoughtful. ā€œLast I checked, it's like both of our bodies are changing in ways we don't understand. Like we both have to navigate a new normal.ā€
"That's exactly why Iā€“" he cuts himself off, running both hands through his hair. "I can't risk hurting you. Not when you're already..."
"Already what?" You challenge, taking one final step. You're close enough now that you have to tilt your head back to look at him properly. "Already broken?ā€
His face twists up like you've punched him in the stomach. ā€œNo! God, no. When you're already going through so much.ā€
ā€œA lot of what I'm going through is a waiting game, Chanā€“ waiting for test results, waiting for appointments at specialists. You don't have to keep things from me because of that.ā€
You poke him in his side, trying to lighten the mood. ā€œBesides, this? Finding out you're a werewolfā€“ā€
ā€œThe correct term is Lycanthropy Syndromeā€“ā€
ā€œ-- This is the kind of stuff that keeps me grounded. Having other things to think about. Having you around.ā€
You watch the tension slowly bleed from his shoulders, almost as though he's deflating. There's obviously more he isn't telling youā€“ you can see it in the way his eyes still can't seem to meet yoursā€“ but you don't push it. He's already said so much.
ā€œSo,ā€ you start. You rock back and forth on your feet. ā€œCan I make werewolf puns now?ā€
He rolls his eyes. ā€œAbsolutely not.ā€
ā€œAre you pawsitive?ā€
He groans at that, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. ā€œYou're the worst. I'm gonna leave you here and go home.ā€
But he's laughing anyway, his usual giggle that makes everything seem like it'll be alright. You beam at him. and your body lights aflame when he smiles back down at you softly. The two of you hold eye contact for a second, and you watch something untraceable flash in his eyes. Before you can even process it, he's looking away again and clearing his throat.
Another silence falls between you, but this one is different. Chan is fidgeting again, his fingers drumming against his thigh in that restless way you've noticed all evening. He's looking everywhere but at you, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his head.
"What is it?" you ask softly.
He opens his mouth once. Twice. Three timesā€“ words seem to be failing him again. You raise an eyebrow and he sighs, a sheepish smile on his big stupidly handsome face.
"Can we..." he starts, then stops. Starts again. "Would it be okay if we... like we used to..."
You wait patiently as he struggles with the words. His ears are turning red again.
"Can we share my bed?" he finally gets out in a rush. "Likeā€“ like when we were kids? Just for tonight. I just... I haven't been sleeping well since everything started and Iā€¦ umā€¦ā€
Your brain short circuits as the request processes.
Shareā€¦ a bed. With Chan. Taller, wider, more muscular Chan. Chan whose body heat seeps through every layer of clothing. Chan whose one hand can cover your knee easily.Ā 
From the way your body reacts, your knee jerk reaction is to say no. He's already going through enough, and Lord knows what types of degenerate scent you'd be giving off if you spent an entire night with him.
But when you open your mouth to decline, you notice how he's standing, with his shoulders curved inward, trying to make himself smaller. His big brown eyes are pleading, almost desperate, and you think about how scared he was earlier, how convinced he was that you'd reject him once you knew the truth.
Fuck it.
ā€œOf course, Channie.ā€
The smile on his face is nervous, like he expects you to change your mind any second. ā€œYeah?ā€
You nod, ignoring the way your brain tries to supply you with images of everything you want to have happen. "Yeah. Just... let me get changed first?"
He nods quickly, that restless energy back but different now ā€“ excited rather than anxious. "Yeah! Yes. Your stuff is in your room, yeah? I'll be in mine when you're ready."
He's bounding up the stairs before you can say anything. You take the moment alone to take a deep breath. You can do this. It's just Chan. Just your best friend.
When you reach your room, you duck into the attached bathroom to change quickly, opting for the full top and bottom PJ set rather than the oversized hoodie you were originally going to wear. You stare at your reflection, willing yourself to calm down and look normal.
Sharing a bed with Chan is not a new concept. When you'd first gotten close in grade school, the two of you tended to hop from house to house, sleeping wherever without a care in the world. The habit continued as you grew upā€“ in college during study sessions, during movie marathons on school breaks, that one time a few months ago when you'd gotten terribly drunk at your friend Jeongin's birthday party. It had never been anything more than two friends seeking each other's comfort.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again, face flushed and breathing ragged. You force yourself to calm downā€“ if Chan could smell when you were in pain, he could probably smell the indecency coming off of you in waves.Ā 
Everything is fine.
When you reach the doorway of the master bedroom, Chan is already in bed scrolling on his phone. You watch his nostrils flare for a second, eyes fluttering shut as he puts his phone on the night stand.
The king sized bed looks both too big and too small.
When he opens his eyes, he looks surprised to see you. and you watch red start to tint his neck. ā€œUm. Hey,ā€ he breathes.
You hover in the doorway, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between you. "Hey."
Chan shifts, pulling back the covers on what has always been 'your' side of the bed ā€œUm. Do you want... I mean, we usually..." He trails off, looking everywhere but directly at you.
You take the initiative and move towards the bed, sliding down under the covers until they reach just under your chin. Chan shuffles next to you, scooting this way and that, flipping like a hot dog on a stick. You both settle on your back eventually, staring up at the ceiling.
ā€œThis is weird,ā€ he says after a few minutes of strained silence.
ā€œNot weird,ā€ you supply. ā€œJustā€¦ different.ā€
ā€œDifferentā€¦,ā€ he murmurs. ā€œDifferent because I'm different?ā€
You almost laugh. ā€œChan, what? Noā€“ā€
He's sliding out from under the covers before you can finish. ā€œI'm sorry, I shouldn't haveā€“ this was dumb to ask.ā€ You ignore the way your heart drops. ā€œI'll go sleep in the other room. Or on the couch. Orā€“ā€
You grab at his wrist before he can go anywhere. He doesn't jerk away this time, but his entire body goes rigid. You rub your thumb along the pulse point on his wrist.
ā€œYou don't have to leave,ā€ you say slowly. ā€œItā€™s not weird because you're different. It's weird because we're both over thinking it.ā€
He lets out a little breath. ā€œWe are, aren't we?ā€
"Yeah." You squeeze his wrist once before letting go. He settles back down into the bed, still looking a bit uncomfortable, but not ready to run anymore.Ā 
You smile at him before holding open the cocoon you made in the blanket. "Come here, you big baby."
"I resent that," he grumbles, but there's a smile tugging at his lips.
It takes some maneuvering to find a comfortable position. Chan is hesitant at first, careful not to crowd you, but eventually you manage to guide him until his head is tucked under your chin, his arm draped carefully over your middle. His body curls around yours despite the size difference, like he's trying to make himself smaller again. When he finally settles, it feels like every part of him is contoured to fit you perfectly.
You ignore the heat in your stomach.
The silence that settles around you is comfortable now, broken only by your breathing beginning to sync up. His body weight is grounding, and the heat he's radiating feels like the world's best heating pad.Ā 
You're just beginning to doze off when Chan makes a low, displeased grunt in the back of his throat. You can feel his eyebrows scrunch together where he's pressed against your collarbone.
ā€œYour hip,ā€ he murmurs.
ā€œHm?ā€
He shifts in your hold, maneuvering you until his other hand can slide under your body to wrap around you. ā€œYour hip hurts. Or it's about to start.ā€
Sleepiness has made you a pliant, barely conscious little thing. You're about to ask how he can tell when his big, warm hand presses against your hip, heat radiating through the fabric until it settles deep into your bones. You can't help but let out a little whimper from the immediate relief it gives you.
Chan makes another sound in his throat, grip increasing on you almost infinitesimally.Ā 
ā€œThis good, babygirl?ā€
ā€œMmf.ā€
The warmth and relaxation is muddling your brain. ā€œS'good, Channie.ā€
He makes a more pleased sound and nuzzles closer. Sleep takes you quickly after that, and all you can think about as you finally succumb is how lucky you are to have him here with you. You'd love to say as much, but you're too tired to open your mouth, so you give him the tiniest of squeezes, hoping he understands.
From the way his arm tightens around you, you think he does.
Things seem less charged in the morning.
You wake up to sunlight glittering through the curtains and the other side of the bed empty. The sheets are still warm, but given what you've come to learn about Chan and his temperature, he could've left the bed anywhere from three seconds to four hours ago.
You stretch a little bit as you try to wake up fully, heading to the other bedroom to freshen up for the day. It seems like an okay day pain-wise. You're at a steady three out of ten everywhere except your hands, but you brush it off. With the way you sleep, your hands take longer to catch up to the lower pain levels in the rest of your body. It's just a matter of time.Ā 
Still, you run them under warm water in the bathroom, hoping to loosen them up.
When you finally emerge, you follow the mouthwatering scent of cooking down the stairs and into the kitchen. After a nonexistent dinner, you're starved, and you could really go for some food right now.
You pause in the archway of the kitchen.
Food isā€¦ an understatement.
Chan stands at the stove, spatula in hand and preparing to flip what looks like an omelette. All around him on the counters are various other breakfast foods: scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, hashbrowns, fruitā€“
ā€œWhen did you have time to make a sourdough starter?ā€
He startles slightly, turning to face you with a sheepish smile. ā€œAhā€¦ good morning, babygirl. I may have.. gone a bit overboard.ā€
ā€œA bit?ā€ You slide into a seat at the edge of the kitchen island in the one spot where there's no food. ā€œIf you were planning to invite the woodland creatures you could've given me a heads up, I'd be decent.ā€
The responding huff makes you smile. ā€œI cannot communicate with animals. Weirdo.ā€ Chan grins. He folds the omelette in half and flips it over. ā€œI justā€¦ I got hungry.ā€
You sneak a piece of bacon off of a nearby plate and snort. ā€œā€˜Hungryā€™ seems like a gross understatement. Is this a side effect?ā€
Chan's ears turn pink as he plates the omelette. "Yeah, actually. My metabolism is... different now. Food tastes different tooā€“ more intense." He starts moving dishes to the kitchen island, careful not to overcrowd your space. "Everything is more intense, really."
"Like what?"
He hums thoughtfully as he settles into the chair next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of him. "Smells are the biggest thing. Like, I can smell everything. The coffee brewing, the bacon grease in the air, the rain that's coming laterā€“"
"It's going to rain?"
"Yeah, probably this afternoon." He passes you a fork and a plate you never noticed him constructing. "I can smell it in the air. Whatā€™s the word? Petrichor, but... before the rain actually falls? If that makes sense.ā€
You hum around a fork full of eggs, cracking the fingers on your free hand. ā€œThat sounds like it can get miserable. Is everything justā€¦ enhanced all the time?ā€
He takes a bite out of a chunk of toast, making a so-so motion with his hand. ā€œIt's enhanced all the time, but the way it is right now, the intensity, thatā€™s only sometimes. Only duringā€“ā€
He cuts himself off, swallowing his bite of toast with more power than necessary.Ā 
ā€œDuring the full moon?ā€ You supply.
He nods quickly. ā€œYeah.ā€
There's a lull in the conversation that you try not to read into. It doesn't take much effort anyway, because you notice that eating is taking more effort than it was a few minutes ago. Your grip on the fork is weird, and you can't seem to close your fingers all the way around it.
That's fine, you think to yourself. You switch hands. Everything is fine.
You try not to let the revelation sour your mood. Chan mentioned it was going to rain, and while your doctors didn't know why you were in pain, they knew what kinds of things made it worse, and the air pressure changes from rain was one of them. This was just something you had to learn to deal with now.
Resentment for your condition rises in your chest with the little bit you've eaten, and you take a sip of apple juice to swallow it down. It's not fair. People your age were doing things like mountain climbing, running marathons, just living. And here you were, struggling to feed yourself and hold a fork.
It's fine.
A hand on your shoulder pierces through the dense clouds shrouding your mind, and you feel yourself startle a little. Chan is facing you, leaning his impossibly tall torso down to look you right in your eyes. His gaze is intense, gold flecks in his eyes swimming around as he stares.
ā€œWhat hurts,ā€ he breathes. The sound of his voice is light as a feather, floating through the air before coming to rest gently on your lips.Ā 
ā€œMy hands.ā€
ā€œScale of one to ten?ā€
You think about saying your number, but upon remembering how nice and easy conversation was this morning, you decide to lie. ā€œFour.ā€
The look in Chanā€™s eyes grows more intense, and you swallow around nothing. He levels you with a very unimpressed look, eyebrows creasing and his plushy, pink lips frowning. He only says two words, but they send a ripple through your body anyway:
ā€œTry again.ā€
Fuck. You're giving yourself whiplash. Jumping from frustration to stark arousal was an Olympics level move your brain wasn't prepared for. There's a different kind of haze clouding your mind now.
ā€œIt's a seven,ā€ you breathe.Ā 
He's up on his feet before you can fully compose yourself, long legs taking him up the stairs and bringing him back down in a matter of seconds. When he sits down again, he's holding your decorative medication pouch and a mini water bottle from your backpack.
You gulp at the way the veins in his arm bulge.
ā€œWhich bottle is it?ā€
You come back to yourself, licking your incredibly dry lips before you respond. It takes a blink or two before you can orient yourself in the present. ā€œUm, red bottle. The tall one.ā€
He places the bottle and water in front of you in a gentle way that contrasts the energy in the room. You fumble with the child proofing for a second before he plucks the bottle from you, undoing the lid with one hand.
Wow. Fuck.
"Thanks," you mumble, accepting the pills he tips into your palm. His hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck as you swallow them, and you try not to shiver at the contact.
ā€œDo you need a nap while the pills work?ā€
You pout, finally coming back to your good senses. ā€œWe're supposed to have a movie marathon today.ā€
ā€œI didn't realize the TV had a flight to catch?ā€
You glare at him, albeit thankful for the teasing sarcasm to loosen the tension. ā€œYou're not funny.ā€
Chan's lips pull into a smirk and he gives a little shrug. ā€œI think I am.ā€
You roll your eyes at him as he stands, coming over to you and easing you out of your seat. He gives a little ā€˜tskā€™ at your faux attitude, but his hands are back on your shoulders, guiding you towards the couch. When you finally do lay down, he's already throwing his signature couch blanket over you, tucking it around you securely.
ā€œComfy?ā€
You are, but you've also realized he's tricked you into a nap, so you do the adult thing and mock him before sticking your tongue out at him.
ā€œWow,ā€ he murmurs. He slides down the couch and onto the floor. ā€œI haven't seen that routine since 4th grade.ā€
You watch as he adjusts his legs a few times, his head resting against the armrest right by your fingers. Itā€™s unspoken, but you know that he'll stay until he's sure you're asleep.Ā 
"You don't have to sit on the floor," you murmur. "There's plenty of room up here."
He shakes his head. "Nah. I'm good here.ā€
You watch his side profile for a minute, basking in all of his Chan-ness. He settles in a bit more and lets his eyes flutter closed. When he does, he leans his head back a little more, and you watch the delicate bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows.Ā 
ā€œChan?ā€ Your mouth is moving before you know it.Ā 
ā€œHm?ā€
ā€œWere you scared? When youā€¦ got the diagnosis?ā€
His eyes open at that, and he turns his head so he can look at you. The intensity from earlier is gone, replaced by that familiar warmth that only he has.
There's a beat of silence where all Chan does is stare, almost as if seeing you for the first time. It passes, though, and then he goes back to his previous position, eyes closed again as he speaks. ā€œNo,ā€ he says finally. ā€œI wasn't scared. The only thing I thought about was you.ā€
ā€œMe?ā€
He nods against the couch. ā€œThey kept talking about what it meant and all of that, and all I could think about was how on earth I was going to tell you.ā€
You reach a hand over and start rubbing at his scalp in the familiar way you've always done. ā€œAnd yet,ā€ you tease gently. ā€œI had to accidentally find the papers.ā€
He makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, leaning into your hand. ā€œThat wasn't the plan,ā€ he murmurs. ā€œWas supposed to tell you properly.ā€
You stay quiet, continuing to play with his hair. The quiet domesticity is comforting, and you find your eyes fluttering closed too.Ā 
You move your fingers through his hair in nonsensical patterns and shapes, occasionally letting your nails graze his scalp. His breathing evens out eventually--he's not sleeping, no, just content and peaceful. You're a different story, though, and medication induced drowsiness starts flowing its way through your body.
Your movements grow slower and uncoordinated, hand drifting lower, and lower, until eventually your fingers trail to the nape of his neck. When you drag your nails across the sensitive skin there, Chan makes a sound that shoots straight through you and straight to your coreā€“ something between a pleased hum and a growl that vibrates through his entire body.
Both of you freeze. Your heart starts doing gymnastics in your chest while the sound echoes in your ears, making your body grow hot. Beneath you, Chan is rigid, like every muscle has been pulled taut.
The room is entirely still for a second. Then, he clears his throat a little, shifting himself so you have better access. ā€œSorry,ā€ he murmurs. ā€œKeep going. Feels nice.ā€
You force your fingers to move again, continuing their exploration and tracing the curls on Chan's head.Ā 
You repeat your mantra in your mind:
Everything is fine.
The moment passes like a summer stormā€“ intense and fleetingā€“ and soon Chan is relaxed again, practically melting under your touch. You're actively fighting sleep now but you're realizing it's a losing battle. Your movements become slower, less deliberate, until your hand is simply resting in his hair.
"Sleep, babygirl," he murmurs, voice thick and honeyed. "I got you.ā€
So you do.
When you wake up a bit later, you find yourself, sadly, alone.
In place of Chan's thick curls is the cold rectangular slab that is your cell phone. You squint at it sleepily, not remembering bringing it down with you for breakfast or having it on the couch. You flick through the unlock process, and when your phone opens, it's on the notes app.
Hi babygirl. If you're reading this, I went to the store. We don't have any vegetables. I'll try to be quick. - Channie
You wipe sleep from your eyes as you sit up, trying to orient yourself in your surroundings. You hear the steady whooshing of the rain outside and carefully flex all of your joints. You're content to find that you're at a steady three out of ten everywhere.
You settle back into the couch cushions, pulling the blanket around you tighter. It's not scary to be by yourself, especially not in the cabin,Ā  but Chan's presence is definitely missed. You decide to fill the silence with television, something low stakes and stupid that you can listen to while you scroll on your phone.
However, the microscopic roku remote has decided to go missing, and after digging through the couch cushions twice, you sit back with a huff. You suppose your phone will do for now.
You open YouTube with the intent to watch one of your favorite Let's Play videos, but as you scroll through your homepage, something catches your eye. The title makes you pause:
Q&A: Genetic Lycanthropy Syndrome (aka The Werewolf Gene)
The algorithm strikes again, you suppose.
The video was posted a little over a month ago and has a substantial amount of views and comments. The creator themselves has well over 100k subscribers. It looks perfectly legit. Before you can overcomplicate it and talk yourself out of it, you press play.
ā€œHi everyone!ā€ The guy on the video has a soft, smiling face, accented by round, thin-rimmed glasses. ā€œWelcome or welcome back to my channel. If you're new here, I'm Seungmin, and I have GLS, which stands for Genetic Lycanthropy Syndrome. Or, to put it simply, I have the werewolf gene.ā€
You are immediately invested.
ā€œI set up a question box on Instagram a couple days ago, and you guys really went to town.ā€ Seungmin chuckles. ā€œSo I'll answer a few of those in this video.ā€
The first few questions are simple enoughā€“ what made him suspect he had it, the diagnostic process, how his family reacted. He answers every question thoughtfully and thoroughly in a way that makes you learn more than you thought you needed to.
You're writing down the fact that people with GLS tend to need more red meat than dark meat in their diet when he starts reading out the next question.Ā 
ā€œ@jutdae asks, ā€˜how does the enhanced sense thing not drive you crazy?ā€™ā€ Seungmin lets out a little laugh. ā€œSo, the sense thing is kind of tricky for non-GLS people to understand. On a regular day, it might be enhanced, but maybe only 50% better than most people. The real issue is when rut or heat cycles start.ā€
You drop your phone, cursing when it slips right into the couch cushions.
ā€œDuring a rutā€“ā€ Seungmin's muffled voice continues as you fish around for your phone. ā€œ-- it's probably around 150% better. And our body temperature will skyrocket, like a constant fever type. The extra sensory input can cause a lot of restless energy too, so we're always feeling like we want to crawl out of our skin. Thankfully ruts, or heats for AFAB people, only happen once every three months, for about a week.ā€
You finally find your phone, heart pounding as you fumble to hold it still. The boy on your screen adjusts his glasses before continuing, entirely unaware how he's just flipped your life on its head.
ā€œWell, that's for people who've presented for a while. When you first present with symptoms, you can get your rut every month. And that'sā€¦ an entirely different type of intense. I surely don't miss that.ā€
Your brain might be oozing out of your ears.
You don't need to Google what a rut cycle is. You already know. It's the one aspect of GLS everyone is familiar with.
You scan through the events of the last 36 hours with unfathomable speed. It's all there. Every single symptom mentioned in this video.Ā 
Extremely heightened senses. Restless energy. Fever-hot skin.Ā 
Chan.
Chan hasn't been able to sit still. Chan's skin is hot to the touch. Chan keeps telling you when your pain is about to start because he can smell it. Chan brought you to an isolated cabin in the mountains.
Chan is in rut. Chan's diagnosis was only finalized less than a week ago. Ergo, this is his first rut.
The sound of a car door slamming makes you jump so hard that your phone flies away from the couch and skitters onto the floor.
Shit.
You scramble to grab it, swiping out of the video before Seungmin finishes answering what you're certain are other life changing questions. You can't hear anything he's saying, laser focused on the sound of Chan's impending footsteps and the sound of rustling grocery bags.
ā€œBabygirl,ā€ Chan's voice vibrates from the entryway. ā€œI'm back. You awake?ā€
ā€œYeah,ā€ you call, forcing yourself to sound steady. You clear your throat. ā€œYes, I'm up.ā€
You hear him put the bags down and toe off his sneakers, socked feet padding into the room where you are, undoubtedly, staring like a ghost came through the door and robbed you of your possessions. You fight to fix your expression into something normal, but all of that goes out the window when he steps into the threshold.
He's soaked. The rain has soaked through his shirt, making it cling to his chest and highlight every cut of his muscle. His curls are wild, some of them plastered to his forehead while others seem to be competing for the best pose. There's water dripping down his neck anā€“
You find a spot on the wall to look at instead.Ā 
ā€œSorry I took so long.ā€ He brushes his hair off of his face. ā€œThe store closest was closed, had to run way into town.ā€
ā€œIt's fine,ā€ you squeak. He looks at you, eyebrows furred. ā€œI was fine, just watched some YouTube. I wasn't up for long.ā€
He tilts his head, studying you with his nearly impossibly dark eyes. His lips push up, almost like he's pouting, but you watch as confusion takes over his gaze. He squints, and you burrow yourself further into the couch. If his smell is heightened, then he probablyā€“
ā€œYou okay?ā€
You nod too enthusiastically. ā€œYes, of course. Why?ā€
He opens his mouth to say something, moves his body as though he'll take a step towards you, but he stops. You hold eye contact for a second, feeling small and exposed among his gaze. But then he nods almost imperceptibly, turning to grab his wet sweater from the entrance.Ā 
ā€œI'm gonna get changed and make us some lunch. Sandwiches?ā€
You nod.
ā€œGood. Find us something to watch, yeah?ā€
As soon as he's gone up the stairs, you collapse back onto the couch, pressing your hands against your burning cheeks.
Okay. Okay.
You're probablyā€“ definitely ā€“ making this weird. Maybe you've read too many werewolf romance novels. Chan is going through something a lot more tangible than turning into a wolf and scampering off into the moonlight, and here you are, being a degenerate as usual. He brought you here because you're his best friend. Because he needs support.
The rut thingā€¦ is just a coincidence. Or maybe not even a big deal, or something he wants you to worry about. Yes. That's it.Ā 
Distantly, you hear the shower turn on, and everything from your neck to the crown of your head lights aflame.
The remote chooses that moment to reappear, launching itself from the couch blanket and onto the floor. You snatch it up quickly, flicking on the TV and navigating to Netflix. You need something light. Something stupid. Something to fizzle out the charged energy in the atmosphere.
He'll handle himselfā€¦ however that may be. You repeat this to yourself as you scroll through the comedy section, eyes blurring at the words in front of you. It's none of your business, anyway. You have one job right now, and that's finding something to watch.
You settle on a cooking show when you hear him coming down the stairs again. You focus on the TV, your mantra echoing around your skull as though you have no brain.
Everything is fine. You're fine. He's fine.Ā 
ā€œWorst Cooks in America?ā€
You nearly jump out of your skin. He's standing behind the couch, now wearing dry clothesā€“ a zip up sweatshirt and loose sweats. You notice, entirely by accident, that there's no shirt under the sweater. Just plain, exposed skin.
Great.Ā 
You hum out a noncommittal answer, just as he turns and heads to the kitchen, mentioning as he goes that he's using roast beef.Ā  You listen to the sound of the fridge opening and the hum of the toaster as he plugs it in, no doubt solely to put your bread to toast, the same way you've eaten a sandwich since you were eight years old.
You can do this. You can act normal. You're an adult, and you have been for a few years. Things donā€™t have to be weird just because you now know that your best friend is a delicate, walking bundle of hormones. Chan clearly trusts you enough to have you here, and you're not going to mess that up by being a disaster about it.
You hear him humming in the kitchen, puttering about through the cabinets, the clink of plates on the counter. It's so normal, so Chan, that it almost makes you forget about everything else.
You shake your head, hoping to physically dislodge the memories of the noise he made when you were scratching his neckā€“ the deep, rumbling groan that ran through your sleep-riddled body until stopping to wake you up where you're most sensitive. It was just a noise, you make noises all the time.
When he appears in the doorway with the two plates, all smiles and soft around the edges, you take a deep breath before returning the smile.Ā 
You can do this. You can sit down next to Chan and watch the show and be normal. Everything is fine.
Probably.
ā€¦ Maybe.
Everything is not fine.
The realization comes later in the night when the darkness from the storm bleeds into the darkness of late evening. It's nearing 10pm, and you and Chan are still seated on the couch together, now on opposing sides, still watching the same cooking show.
Or pretending to.
Chan seemed to be getting worse as the evening progressed. When he first came in from outside, he seemed calmer, less tense, but now he was sitting rigid, wound up like a toy no one would release. He was sweating an almost ridiculous amount, and the zip from his hoodie was pulled down to the middle of his stomach, exposing all the skin underneath.
His breaths were coming in short pants now. He had a steady grip on the fabric of his sweats, and you were almost certain that he'd tear a hole in them with the way he was grabbing them.
You weren't sure what to do.
You had tried nudging him with your foot gently a while ago, but when your skin made contact, he made another low sound in his throat that shot right up your leg and into your core. You pulled your foot away quickly, apologizing, making sure to press your knees together so the scent of arousal wouldn't reach him.Ā 
And that was before he had started panting likeā€¦ well, a dog. Now you weren't sure you'd be able to reach him through the fog of his own mind even if you screamed right in his face.
You're about to try saying something, anything as the episode that was playing ends, but he shoots up off the couch before you can think of words to say. He's pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes, visibly shaking with the effort of breathing normally.
ā€œChan,ā€ you start.
He holds up a hand. ā€œI'mā€“ I'm okay,ā€ he breathes.Ā 
He's not.Ā 
ā€œThe rain, I think,ā€ he grits out. ā€œToo loud. Too much. You're okay, though?ā€
Of course Chan would find the time to check on you while going through his own crisis. You sit up a little on the couch, staring at him even though he has his eyes covered. The words are coming out of your mouth before you can even think about what you're saying: ā€œDo I smell okay?ā€
He grunts. You suddenly understand why cavepeople had so many kids.Ā 
ā€œSmell fine,ā€ he breathes. He slides his hands down his face, fixing his gaze away from you. ā€œYou do, I mean. You smell good.ā€
It dawns on you then that maybe the newly awakened wolf-like part of his consciousness is reacting to your smell because you're a girl, and he's in a rut. Maybe you should leave the room, give him some space?
You're trying to find a way to ask if that's what he needs without giving away what you know, but he fiddles with the zipper of his hoodie again, wanting to tug it down some more. He stops, takes a deep breath, and then drops his hand.
ā€œI think I need a second,ā€ he says. His hands are twitching at his side. ā€œNeed my room. Need the quiet, yeah?ā€
You nod. That's fine. It's for the best anyway, right?Ā  ā€œThat's okay. You can come back when you're ready.ā€
He nods, still not looking at you. There's a moment where he seems to hesitate, but whatever internal war he's having ends quickly, and he basically runs up the stairs. Just before you hear his door close, you hear the sound of his hoodie zipping down all the way.
Heat floods your face as you turn back to the show.
After a while of still failing to really pay attention, you pull your phone out from under the blanket. Despite the pure, unfiltered desire thrumming through your veins, you still want to help Chan. It's bothering you how bothered he is, how helpless he seems. There has to be something you can do for him.
You type, How to help a werewolf in a rut into your search bar, and after realizing very quickly that that's actually the title of an erotica series, you change your search to something more medical sounding.
It takes trial and error, but GLS and Rut Cycles Help seems to give you the best results.
You find a forum on a website dedicated to rare genetic disorders. Itā€™s the one link that seems to have real information, ironically nestled between a fanfiction website and Twitter.Ā 
You stop on a thread that catches your attention:
Non-GLS Roommate Here: Any way I can help with heats?
Not in that way, they write. But my roommate just presented with this disorder and she's absolutely miserable, and I feel so bad. I'm not trying to fuck her, but is there anything I can do to help?? Meds? Chocolate?? Leaving her alone??
There are only a handful of responses, mostly people lol-ing about how non-lycanthropes always think a heat cycle is like a period. One answer sticks out to you:
if it's her first heat, she's probably running a pretty high temp. make her some cold drinks to bring the temperature down and the hormones may follow. that used to work for me. ideally, try to convince her to take a cold shower, but her instincts might be telling her not to. it's a delicate game lol. don't press the shower thing if you don't want her to bite. like, literally. AFAB lycanthropes have a thing for biting idk
It makes sense now why Chan looked better when he came in from the rain. It was, essentially, the cold shower that he needed. You wonder briefly if you could convince him to go back out, but you decide against it. It's dark now, and you don't need him getting hurt.
So, instead, you peel yourself away from the couch and head into the kitchen. There's tons of juice cartons already in the fridge, but you bypass them, instead grabbing the bag of lemons and the carton of blueberries.Ā 
The first time you made lemonade for Chan, the two of you were in fifth grade. You wanted to save money for the new and extremely expensive ride-on jeep that you saw in the store, and the only thing you could think to do was sell lemonade. You forced Chan (who had no interest in the car but wanted to help anyway) to sit down and taste batch after batch of your lemonade.
After he threatened to tell your parents you were trying to poison him, you made one last batch of the lemonade, and on a whim, dumped some blueberry syrup into it. He grumbled as he took the cup, but he couldn't hide his satisfied smile.
ā€œThat's the one,ā€ he grinned.Ā 
You never did save the money for the car, but you kept the lemonade recipe anyway. There was nothing your blueberry lemonade couldn't fix.
And you were prepared to add rut fevers to that list.
You dump a ton of ice in Chan's reusable water bottle before pouring the lemonade over it, putting the top on and swirling it around. You take a sip first, nodding in contentment when it nearly freezes the back of your throat.
With your phone in your back pocket and the lemonade in hand, you make your way up the stairs, pausing in front of Chan's bedroom door. A feeling of nervousness washes over you, but you beat it down with a stick. You're just delivering some lemonade. You'll be fine.
ā€œChannie,ā€ your voice is tentative as you knock. ā€œYou okay? I brought you a surprise.ā€
You listen carefully. You can't hear anything on the other side of the door. You don't wanna bang or yell, knowing his ears are probably sensitive already. You knock gently again, really straining your ears to hear.
He must be asleep, you think. You'll just leave the cup on the nightstand for him to find when he wakes up. You turn the doorknob and push open the door andā€“
Subsequently drop the cup on the floor.
Chan is not asleep.
Chan is very much awake.
He can't see you, no, because his eyes are closed and his head is tipped back against the headboard of his bed. His face and ears are red, and his lips are extra plump. You wonder why until he bites down on his bottom lip, hard.
You let your eyes trail down. He's touching himself.
Oh.
One of his hands is wrapped around his cock, pumping furiously like it's just not enough. The other hand is white knuckling the pillow you slept on last night, bringing it up to his face so he can no doubt inhale whatever leftover scent is on it.Ā 
He has no idea that you're in the room. The pillow is already carrying your scent, so there's no intrusion to his senses. You should look away. You should go, you shouldā€¦
You can't look away.
His hips are thrusting upwards to meet his hand now, his entire body writhing on the bed like he's trying to find the perfect spot. With his sweater open, you can see the contraction of his ab muscles as he moves, all the hard contours of his body chasing his pleasure. You watch as he twists his wrist, thumb sliding across the slit of his cock and smearing precum down the shaft.Ā 
You hear him make a sound, almost like he's grunting, and then he's mumbling something under his breath. It's low, too low for you to really hear it, but when he speaks again, you definitely understand.
"Babygirl," he groans. He squeezes his cock at the base before stroking it again. "F-fuck, babygirl."
It's then that you squeak, slamming a hand over your mouth almost immediately. His eyes fly open and he shoots up, face panicked, but he doesn't stop moving his hand.
"I'm-- I'm sorry," you manage. "I came to-- I just-- Oh my God."
Chan's eyes are wild as he looks at you. His chest is heaving and his curls are sticking up all over the place. He looks pained and conflicted, likely warring within himself about whether he should stop or not. From the way his ears turn a deep shade of red, you can tell he thinks that he should.
He doesn't, though. He's still jacking himself off, faster and faster, even as he gives you a devastatingly desperate look.
"Fuck," he grunts. "I'm sorry. I can't-- you just smell so fucking good and Iā€“ā€ He pants, looking at you with eyes that can barely stay open. ā€œI can't stop. Babygirl, make me stop."
Your brain is malfunctioning, but the part of it that can still process information has taken notice of what he's saying. You were right earlier. It's your smell. Your smell is driving him crazy because you're a fertile, childbearing aged female. It's not poorly contained last or a bad decision on his part.
It's biology. It's what that primal part of his brain needs.
Your body goes hot as you think of your next words.
"You..." you swallow around nothing. You're wearing socks, but the cold from the floor seems to seep into your feet. "You don'tā€“ um. Do youā€¦ need help?ā€
His pupils blow.
"I don'tā€¦ I don't want to hurt you," he whines, chest heaving as his fist pumps faster. "You shouldn't."
"But I want to help," you breathe. You take a step closer to the bed, legs shaking from the sheer intensity of how fast your arousal hits. "What if I want to help?"
He stops then, staring at you with the same intensity he had last night. You feel stripped, exposed, but you don't feel unsafe.
You take another step closer.
"Chan," you whisper. You're at the foot of the bed now. "What if I want to?"
He makes a desperate noise in the back of his throat.
"I won'tā€¦ touch you if you don't want me to." You take another step to the side of the bed, feeling somewhat bold under his gaze. "But I'll... I'll let you touch me, if you need. Whatever you want. Just... just tell me what to do."
You're only a couple steps away now. Chan is practically shaking with the effort it takes not to move, to wait for your permission. It's then that you realize he's waiting for you to make the first move, and all of the power shifts to you.
You're standing right next to him now, the two of you locked in an intensely heated gaze. He reaches for you silently with the hand not fisted around his cock, moving slowly like you'll dissolve if he's too eager. When you nod, his hand slides down the length of your arm, fingers interlacing.
Thenā€“
"Please," he whispers. His voice cracks on the lone syllable. "Please, babygirl. I need you.ā€
He brings the hand he's holding over to his already throbbing cock, dragging your fingertips over the sensitive skin on his tip. His head rolls back again and his hips buck up. You try not to shiver.
"I just... I just need this," he breathes. "Please. I won't touch you, I'll be good."
Maybe it's the desperation in his voice. Maybe it's the way his eyes look so innocent, absolutely contrasting what he's begging you to do. Whatever it is, you let your tongue dart out to wet your lips, throat feeling incredibly dry as you stare down at him.
You wrap your fingers around his cock tentatively, not missing the way his body seems to come alive at your touch, and start moving up and down. He's already so hard, his entire shaft coated in his precum so you can slide up and down with ease. The sounds he's making are going straight to your core, and you can feel the way your underwear is sticking to you.
"Tight," he grunts. "Tighter, please."
You tighten your grip, speeding up a little bit. You feel him thrusting upwards to meet your hand, his hand squeezing yours like he needs the support to ground himself. You let your thumb brush over his tip, using his precum as lube to give him even more friction.
He cries out, back arching. "Yes," he chokes out. "Fuck, babygirl, do that again.ā€
You do, swiping your thumb across the slit and spreading more precum over him. It makes everything slicker and wetter, and the way you're able to move faster now has him moaning nonsensical little things.
His hips are bucking up harder now, and you watch as his abs tense and release, the hand not holding yours going up to tug on his hair. Your body feels like a loaded stick of dynamite, and you're so careful to keep your hips still, knowing how badly you want friction.
"Mā€™close," he breathes. "Fuck, babygirl. You feel so good."
You pump faster, giving him the extra tightness and friction that he needs. You watch as the hand in his hair drops to his stomach, nails digging into his abs.
You wonder how long he was in here like this, pained and desperate. You try not to think about him moaning your name in the empty room, fucking up into his fist as he thinks about you, chasing your scent on his pillow.
Just because of the rut, your brain supplies. Because it would be absurd to think otherwise.
You glance up at his face. His eyes are screwed shut, lips parted as he pants and grunts and makes other sounds in the air. The look on his face is enough to make you clench around nothing. You've only been hot and bothered for the last 5 minutes and you already feel desperate to cum, so you can't imagine what he's going through.
You let your other hand reach up to cup his face.
"Chan," you murmur. "Look at me.ā€
He opens his eyes slowly, pupils completely blown as he meets your gaze. You see sweat sliding down the side of his face, and you wonder if it's from his fever or his pleasure.
"You're okay, babyboy," you whisper. His cock jumps in your hand at that. "You can cum, you know. You don't have to hold back."
"Wanna--wanna be good," he grunts. You feel him start to thrust faster. "Don't wanna hurt you."
"You're doing so good, Channie. You're not hurting me."
The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you drop your hand from his cheek and slide it down the column of his throat, letting your nails scratch across his skin. His reaction is immediate, body spasming as he groans.
"Shit," he cries. "Yes, rightā€“ right there, Oh my God."
"Yeah?" You scrape your nails across the base of his throat again, making sure to be a bit rougher this time.
He nods quickly, the grip on your hand tightening. You take your other hand off of him, drinking up the sound of his whine before you slide it underneath his hoodie, feeling his chest up. You scrape your nails over his pecs, making him jolt a little.
"C'mon, Channie," you coo. "You're okay. I want you to cum for me."
He lets out a strangled sound, hips bucking up into your fist even faster now. His head falls back again and you see the muscles in his neck strain.
"Please," he chokes out. "I need-- I need--"
You slide your hand from his chest back up to his neck, finding the spot from earlier that made him make that deliciously memorable noise. When you drag your nails across it, his hips stutter in their rhythm, and that's the only warning you have before his entire body is convulsing with pleasure.
"Oh, fuck," he grunts. "Babygirl, fuckā€“ā€
His cock pulses in your hand as he cums, releasing all over himself and your fingers. You stroke him through it, gently moving your hand up and down until he's spent.
Then, there's silence.
You're not sure what you expect. Maybe for him to turn over and go to sleep, or for him to act bashful and apologetic, letting you know it won't happen again.
You certainly aren't expecting for him to grip your hips and lift you up onto the bed. Or for him to gently push you down on your back. Or for the desperation in his face to be replaced with something harder, something more in control and dominating as he says, ā€œPlease let me eat your pussy, babygirl.ā€
You almost choke.
You feel like you should protest. Tell him he doesn't have to, that this is already more than you thought you would ever get. But then he's sliding his hands up under your shirt, and the only thing your mouth can form is a moan.
He's never seen you naked, always a respectable gentleman, but there's no hesitation or uncertainty in the way his hands move around your body. He's not tentative and gentle like you expected; he's touching and pinching and running his nails along your skin like he's done this before, like he knows all your spots. He reaches your chest, where you have no bra, and rubs his thumb across your already hardened nipple. Your back arches and your legs fall open for him with a groan, letting him slot himself in the now empty spot.
He pulls his hand away, moving up to your face and cupping your jaw so you can look at him. He's looking down at you with dark eyes.
"Please?ā€
He's asking, you know, but there's nothing gentle in the way he's looking at you. You nod as best as you can, and he brings his hand down from your jaw to your chin, fingers sliding over your lips. You feel him nudge his thumb against your bottom lip, and you take the hint.
You open your mouth for him, letting him slide his thumb inside and rub it across your tongue. He's looking down at you intensely as you swirl your tongue around his finger, and when you suck on it a little, he lets out a grunt.
"Fuck," he breathes. He pulls his thumb away, watching as a string of saliva connects it to your lips. "You're gonna let me make you feel good, yeah?ā€
You nod again, but he gives a little humorless chuckle, head tilting at you.
"Use your words babygirl."
"Yes." Your voice is quiet. "Yes, I want you to.ā€
He stares at you for another moment. You watch his eyes dart across your face, your body, before settling on your lips again. He leans down then, hovering just above you as he licks his own lips.
"Gonna kiss you now," he murmurs. "That okay?"
You fear you look stupid, the way you're just staring up at him, jaw slacked and eyes going in and out of focus. You nod anyway, trying to act normal.
Or as normal as you can, under the circumstances.
He doesn't waste any more time after that. He leans down the rest of the way, pressing his lips against yours. It's slow at first, a sweet little thing that makes you feel warm and safe. You sigh into it, eyes fluttering closed.
But then he licks a stripe across your bottom lip, and you let out a pathetic little whimper, lips falling open just enough for him to slot his tongue in your mouth. He kisses you like he needs it to breathe. It's desperate, burning, hot and filthy. He's licking into your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lips. You try to press your thighs together again, but his strong, muscular slab of body is between them, forcing them open.
His hands slide down your sides and settle on your hips. Your shorts do nothing as a barrier, and you feel every modicum of heat in his hands. He slips those warm hands into the waistband of both your shorts and panties, sliding them down your body antagonizingly slowly.
He sits back on his knees then, pulling them both all the way off before tossing them to the side. Then he leans forward again, pressing wet kisses to the skin right below your belly button.
"Chan," you breathe.
"S'okay baby," he mumbles against your skin. You feel a new wave of wetness flow through you. How could your usual nickname be even hotter with half of it missing?
Then he's moving his mouth down, down, down, and you feel him pressing his nose to your slit.
"Oh god," you whine.
"I know," he murmurs. You feel his tongue press against your clit, and your entire body spasms. He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your legs and squeezing your thighs to hold them open. "I know babygirl.ā€
He licks you again, making you groan out loud. You can't help but bring one hand up to his curls, weaving your fingers through them and tugging on them like you've always wanted to. He responds by moaning, the vibrations shooting straight to your core.
You feel his tongue dip lower, spreading your wetness around. He dips it into your entrance, tongue fucking you at such a languid pace you feel like you'll fall apart. You hear him groan against your cunt again, and his hands tighten on your thighs.
"So wet, baby," he murmurs. "Taste so good.ā€
He presses his tongue to your clit again, and you pull on his hair harder. He grunts, and you feel him rutting up against the bed, his cock hard again, chasing some form of relief.Ā 
"Please baby," he mumbles against you. "Want you to cum for me. Please."
You know yourself, know what gets you going and what really makes you cum, so you want to tell him that it's going to take more than this, that you're not there yet, but you don't get a chance to before he's sliding a finger inside of you, curling it up and finding your spot with such accuracy your vision goes white.
You feel him suck on your clit then, swirling his tongue around it as he slides another finger inside of you. You tug on his hair again, not even realizing that you're grinding up against his face.
You feel yourself getting closer, chasing the release you've been desperate for since he pulled you onto the bed. His fingers curl inside of you again, pressing that spot and making you scream out his name.
"Yeah?" Chan groans against you, voice hoarse and desperate. "Like that? S'okay baby, let go."
"Chan," you choke. You're so, so close. "Chris. Chris.ā€
He moans at that, speeding up his fingers and moving his tongue even faster.Ā  He's rocking himself up against the mattress with more urgency now, panting and moaning with his mouth pressed to your cunt.
"C'mon babygirl," he mumbles. "Need you to cum. C'mon, please. Need it."
He presses his fingers into that spot again, and you're gone. You arch up off of the bed as you cum, his name ripping itself from your throat as he fucks you through it. You feel your cunt pulsing around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. He keeps licking, his moans sending vibrations straight up your spine until you're over sensitive, tugging on his hair for him to back away. He does, but not before pressing wet kisses to the inside of your thigh.
He sits up then, his hair sticking up all over the place from where you've been pulling on it. He's sweaty and breathing hard, his lips swollen and red from where you were kissing him. You feel his eyes roam over your body, and you know that if you look down, you'll see how your skin is flushed from your ears down to your chest.
He's still sporting a semi, but his focus isn't on that anymore. He gathers you up in his hands, pulling you with him to the top of the bed and settling you with him on the pillows. He presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling you to rest your head on his chest.
"Sleep," he says into your hair. You notice how his body temperature has dropped-- he doesn't feel like an inferno anymore.
You're too tired to do anything but whine gently at the way he's holding you, too relaxed and spent to say anything. You feel sleep pulling at your eyes as he fixes your shirt over you carefully.
"Ah, shit," he murmurs. "Gotta clean you up. Then I'll come right back, yeah?ā€
You nod, trying to fight off sleep just a little longer. He presses a kiss to your hair before sliding out of the bed, going to the bathroom and coming back with a warm washcloth. You feel him wipe you down gently, and you mumble out something that might've been a thank you.
He takes the washcloth back to the bathroom, coming back to join you in bed. He pulls you back on top of him, settling the blankets over the two of you.
You're asleep before he can even kiss your forehead again.
When you wake up in the morning, you do your usual pause to see what does and doesn't hurt. You're mostly pain free, you realize sleepily, except for a dull ache in your hips and knees and a pleasant soreness in yourā€“
Oh shit.
Everything slams back into you at once. The lemonade, Chan, him begging for you in more ways than one. It feels like you've been doused in cold water and tossed off of a bridge.
You go to sit up, but when you make an attempt to move, you feel an impossibly heavy weight around your midsection. Said weight snores a bit, and you realize that it's Chan's arm draped across you.
He's sleeping soundly next to you, hair still ruffled and unruly from where you were pulling it, lips still slightly swollen and red. The blankets are pulled up to his chin, hiding his body from view.
Your face burns as you try to really remember everything that happened last night, either to orient yourself through the brain fog or torture yourself. You're not entirely sure. Chan was... he was in rut, you knew that much. And you offered to help. Then he ate you out and gave you what was probably the most intense orgasm of your life, and then you fell asleep.
Typical stuff. Of course.
The memories are still there, but the reality of the situation has you panicking. His eyes are still closed, so you don't have to deal with the embarrassment of him catching you staring, but you're frozen anyway.
You're immediately hit with the overwhelming realization that you just made a mistake. There's no way you can possibly continue to keep your feelings for Chan a secret after this, no way that you can pretend you don't know what his amazingly deft fingers feel like inside of you. How would you ever be able to look him in the face again?
A vibrating sound pulls you from your spiral. For a second, you wonder if it's coming from Chan, but you recognize that, no matter what genetic issue he has, a person cannot vibrate.Ā 
The sound is actually coming from just off the side of the bed, where your shorts and panties lay discarded. You reach over and pluck your phone from the back pocket, turning it over to see an unfamiliar number flashing across the screen.
You're about to send it to voicemail when your heart sinks like lead along with recognition in your chest. It's the genetic clinic.
You're untangling yourself from Chan's arms in record speed, shirking your shorts on and stepping into the hallway. He doesn't stir, thankfully, but you still close the door gently behind you anyway.
"Hello?" You breathe.
The nurse on the other side of the line greets you enthusiastically, and after confirming you are the intended recipient of the phone call, she asks you to hold while she transfers you to the doctor. You wait anxiously for a minute or two, pacing your way to the kitchen island and picking at the skin around your fingers while you listen to the generic hold music.
"Good morning," the doctor says as she comes on the line. She, too, sounds far too chipper. "I apologize for the wait, I was in the middle of rounds when your nurse flagged me down."
"That's okay," you say. Pleasantries feel superficial right now.
"Right, so. We did get some of your preliminary genetic results back," she says. You can hear pages being turned on the other side of the line. "I wanted to let you know that, unfortunately--"
The floor falls from under your feet.
"-- You did test positive for Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Classical type."
You can't really hear anything else she's saying. Something about coming back in, maybe. About starting physical therapy. Taking care of yourself. You feel sick, like you might pass out. Or throw up.Ā 
You manage to push through the rest of the conversation, your voice sounding far away even to your own ears. She lets you know that she's sending follow-up information to your email, says that it's important to have support at such a time like this, and you make a very non committal grunt of acknowledgement before ending the phone call. Your phone chatters on the island, the sound echoing in the empty space.
You can't even form a concept of a thought before your chest feels tight, like there's a rubber band stretching across your ribs and pulling taut. You skin suddenly feels like there are a million and one tiny sets of feet thrumming underneath it. It's too hot. Your shirt is choking you. It's all suddenly too much at once: last night with Chan, the diagnosis, the way you're feeling an ache building in your back.
You need to move. You need to get out.
You're up the stairs before you can really process it, standing in front of your suitcase and rifling through it with speed. You find a pair of sweats and what youā€™re almost certain is Chan's old hoodie, but you toss them on quickly anyway.
The air is crisp when it hits your face a few moments later. It's exactly what you need. The path around the cabin is familiarā€“ you've walked it countless times during family trips and weekend getaways. You know exactly where to step to avoid the mud, which trees mark the loop back to the house.
You walk until your legs burn, until the tears on your face dry in the cold air. Your mind races with everything and nothing at once.
Classical EDS. Your PCP was right about it being a connective tissue disorder. EDS explains the tummy aches, the racing heart, the migraines, and most obviously, the joint pain. There's no cure. Just management. Just a lifetime of being careful, of physical therapy, of putting in insane amounts of effort to make sure your joints don't fucking disintegrate.
You find this to be the most manageable of all the issues at the moment.Ā 
But Chanā€¦
God, Chan. What were you thinking? He was in rut, vulnerable and needing comfort, and you just... what? Offered yourself up like some kind of heathen? Let him touch you in ways you've only dreamed about, knowing full well it would change everything?
This feels like the biggest issue to you, you realize when you pause on a tree stump. Because if you lose Chan, from something you initiated, you will lose everything else. He is the center of your universe, and everything revolves around him. You can't lose him, especially not over your own stupidity.
You think about going back. Talking to him. Maybe trying to convince him that you're fine, that he doesn't have to worry about you. That you don't like him like that, and you were just being a good friend and helping.
But then you remember his face when he came, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he moaned out your name. The way his fingers felt inside of you. How good he smelled.
You'll never be able to forget any of it now, you realize. And it will tear you apart if you lose him because of it.
You realize you've been walking much longer than intended when you catch a glimpse of the position of the sun. The morning chill has given way to a warmer temperature, though your face still feels numb from the wind. Your joints are definitely making themselves known now.
You suppose you may as well head back, even if you don't have any idea what youā€™re going to do when you have to face Chan. You can't stay out and freeze.
As you round the final bend that leads back to the cabin, you see him.
Chan is standing on the front porch, shirtless despite the cold, his hands visibly shaking at his sides. He's looking in the opposite direction, but you see when your scent hits him, because he whips around and his eyes lock onto you immediately. There's a look on his face that makes your chest acheā€“ he looks terrified, like he's been coming apart at the seams.
You both freeze in your spots, an echo of that moment at the clinic. The silence stretches between you, heavy with everything unsaid. You notice then that his eyes are red, not the same red tint you now recognize from his rut, no. This is the red tint from that day he had to drive you to the hospital.
He's been crying.
ā€œWhereā€“ā€ his voice is labored. ā€œBabygirl. Where have you been?ā€
"I just..." you gesture vaguely at the path behind you. "I needed some air."
He takes a step forward, then seems to think better of it, stopping himself in his tracks. "You weren't... you were gone when I woke up. Your phone was on the counter, I couldn't... I didn't know whereā€¦ā€
He makes a pained noise in his chest, and then you see his entire face crumble. He pulls one of his arms up to his face, covering his eyes as you hear him start to cry.
Your heart breaks in two.
You rush to him as quickly as your protesting legs will allow, taking the stairs two at a time until you're in front of him. You reach up to gently pull his arm down, but he jerks away, a wounded noise escaping from his mouth.
"No," he cries. "You shouldn'tā€“Ā  don't touch me. I'm sorry.ā€
ā€œChris,ā€ you breathe, hoping to cut through his emotional fog. ā€œChris, please, look at me.ā€
ā€œTell me what I did.ā€
You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. ā€œWhat?ā€
ā€œWhat did I do wrong?ā€ His voice cracks around the words. ā€œLast night, I couldn'tā€¦ control myself. And you were so good to me and thenā€“ you were gone.ā€
"Chan, no." You reach for him again, and this time he lets you pull his arm down. His face is streaked with tears, those big brown eyes red and swollen. "You didn't do anything wrong."
He shakes his head violently, words tumbling out around hiccups. "Then why did you leave? Why didn't you wake me up? I woke up and you were gone and I couldn'tā€“ your scent was gone and I couldn'tā€“"
A sob cuts him off. You grab his hand and tug him towards the door. "Let's go inside. Please? It's freezing out here.ā€
He lets you tug him inside, at least just until you can close the door. You try to bring him over to the couch, but he's stubborn, keeping his feet planted where they are. He won't look at you, keeping his gaze downcast no matter how much you tug on his arm. You let go after a tense moment, sighing and wrapping your arms around yourself.
ā€œChan. The clinic called,ā€ you say softly. ā€œThats why I left. My results came back.ā€
His head snaps up at that, understanding settling over his face. ā€œYouā€¦ did you test positive forā€“ā€
ā€œClassical Ehlers Danlos,ā€ you supply.
He looks like he'll cry all over again, reaching his hand out to you before pulling it back to his side. He squeezes his hands in and out of fists a few times before he shakes his head, tilting his head back until he's staring up at the ceiling.
ā€œI'm so sorry,ā€ he breathes. ā€œLast nightā€¦ I shouldn't haveā€“ā€
ā€œStop, please,ā€ you cut him off, voice hoarse in the quiet. You've run out of energy. ā€œYou didn't do anything wrong.ā€
ā€œNo, I did everything wrong. I thought I could handle it, thought it wouldn't be too much. Everyone told me it was a bad idea but I didn't want to listen, thought I could control myself.ā€
You feel bile rising in your throat. ā€œWhat?ā€
He shakes his head again. ā€œI shouldn't have said yes.ā€
He murmurs it, but the cabin is dead silent, so there's no way you don't hear it. There's no way you can misinterpret what he means either. Last night. He shouldn't have said yes when you asked if he needed help.
You take a step back, and you watch his face crumble a bit more. ā€œRight.ā€ Your voice sounds hollow. ā€œIt's fine. It was a mistake anyway."
"A mistake?" Now he looks confused through his tears. "No, that's notā€“"
"It's okay, Chan." You force a smile that feels like it might crack your face in half. You need to end this conversation now so you can go cry in your bed. "We can just forget it happened. You were in rut, I was... available. It's fine."
"Available." He deadpans. His gaze loses some of the previous softness. "Is that what you think? That I just... used you because you were there?ā€
You find yourself backing away towards the stairs, already mentally checked out. ā€œIsn't it? You said it yourself last night, it was just my scent.ā€
His face flashes through so many emotions, you're not sure how you would begin parsing through them. He settles on something that looks like a mix of thinly veiled disgust and anger. He fixes his posture until he's back up to his full height now, brown eyes ablaze.
You decide to turn away from him fully at that moment. Whatever this is, this half argument you're having, it can wait until you've taken a good nap. You prepare to climb the stairs, keeping one hand on the railing and one foot on a stair.
That's about as far as you make it before you feel the unmistakable heat of Chan behind you. You stifle back the gasp that threatens to spill when he presses himself right up against your back, head dipped down so he's right by your ear.
ā€œAsk me why,ā€ he breathes.Ā 
You shiver at the feeling of his breath on your ear, and your entire body lights up in record time. You've forgotten how to speak, maybe.
So, you eloquently stutter out a simple, "What?"
He slides a hand around you, reaching from the base of your back all the way to your stomach, pulling you closer to him. ā€œBabygirl. I said, ask me why.ā€
You swallow thickly. His voice is still hoarse and low from the crying, and it sends a shiver up your spine that rocks your body so hard, you think you would fall if not for the strong arm around you.
"Why," you breathe. The word has no conviction in it. You're getting dizzy.
He leans even closer to you, lips brushing the shell of your outer ear. "Because," he murmurs. "Yes, your scent smells so fucking good. So sweet and warm. But I don't want you because you smell good, baby. I want you because you smell like you're mine.ā€
You whimper involuntarily at that, and you feel him inhale sharply. His other hand reaches up to hold your chin, tilting your head up towards him. You're looking at each other now, his eyes blown wide and his pupils blown so black, there's barely any brown left.
"Do you understand me, babygirl?" He's breathing hard against you. "Even under the harsh scent of your pain, or the saccharine scent of when you're happy, something in you always smells like you belong to me. Do you know why?"
Your knees feel weak. Not from pain, but because of whatever is happening right now. You let out a pathetic mewl in Chan's hold and watch his nostrils flare.Ā 
"Because you are mine. My mate. You hear me, baby? Mine.ā€
Then he's tilting your head to the side and kissing down the column of your throat, nipping just hard enough to send electricity through your body. You whine, unable to stop the way your body arches into his touch.Ā 
He makes a low, rumbling sound in his chest, pulling away just long enough to look you in your eyes again. "Wasn't using you," he huffs, saying the word use like it leaves a nasty flavor in his mouth. "I needed you, needed your scent around me to make it better. I couldn't control myself, baby."
He spins you around so that you're facing him now, hands still wrapped around your waist. You think he's about to kiss you, but you see a wave of clarity and seriousness push everything else to the side.
ā€œThey asked me at the clinic,ā€ he starts, shuffling with you in his arms until you're back in the living room with him. ā€œIf something happened to a family member, or if I had a girlfriend who was hurt.ā€
You're hanging on to every word, unable to look away from his eyes.
ā€œI told them no to both, but I told them about the hospital, about how you called me crying cause you were in so much pain, and you just kept passing out on me. I told them about how scared I was that if I left the hospital, I would come back and you wouldn't be there. You'd be gone. It was ripping me apart.ā€
You reach up to touch his face without thinking, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He leans into the touch like he can't help himself.
ā€œI presented because I wanted to protect you down to my very DNA. I was going so crazy about you that my body needed a way to protect meā€“ protect you.ā€
ā€œChan,ā€ you breathe.
ā€œThey said my inner wolf, that primal part of me, recognized it as my mate being in pain, and I was powerless to stop it. It's you, babygirl. It's always been you.ā€
The hopeless romantic in your heart is giddy.Ā 
You think about how you'd tried to touch him during the drive up, how he'd pulled his hands away like he was in pain. You supposed maybe he was. Going through his first rut, stuck in an enclosed space with his mate, unable to do anything about it.
You can't imagine the amount of restraint it probably took him to remain normal. The sheer thought of it alone has you blinking back up at him, looking right in his eyes.
With the eye contact, you feel his body swell microscopically, like he's flaxing every muscle so he can look bigger, more threatening, but he is neither of those things to you.
To you he is just Chan.
You're rising up on your toes before you even know what's happening, hand sliding up Chan's neck to pull him down towards you and catching his lips in a hot, burning kiss.Ā 
The hand around your waist tighten's its grip, slotting you even further against his body.
It feels like home. It feels like safety.
You feel his growing bulge press against you, and you hum into the kiss.Ā 
It feels like perfection.
"M'Sorry," he slurs against your mouth. He makes no effort to pull away. "Still in rut. Sensitive."
You say nothing, sliding your free hand down his chest, over his stomach until you reach what you're looking for. You rest your hand over it softly, not grabbing or pressing, but he responds like you do, grunting and rutting up against your hand as he starts panting.
"Babygirl," he groans. "Baby, please."
You start moving your hand in earnest now, cupping his bulge through his sweats as he grinds up against you. His eyes flutter closed and he pulls away from the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours.
"God, I wanna fuck you so bad," he grunts. "Wanna be inside. Wanna cum inside you so deep you'll never forget who you belong to. Make myself your alpha."
It's insane how your body reacts to that. You feel your clit jump in your underwear. The Alpha/Omega thing wasn't real-- or at least wasn't based on any science with the condition, but the way Chan speaks, the way his grunts sound so close to your ear, you believe it could be.
"You're gonna let me, right?" He whines. "Please? I'll make you feel so good. Been so good for me already baby. Just wanna make you cum on my cock."
Your moan gets caught in your throat when he slides a hand down your body to grip the swell of your ass. Between that and feeling him, rock solid against you, your entire body comes back to life with desperate, almost delirious need.
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes, Channie, please. Want you. Please."
His chest vibrates with a growl and he wastes no time pushing you back until you're laying against the couch. He kneels over you, large hand reaching down and palming himself through his sweats.
He notices what you're wearing at that moment. He reaches his free hand down, gripping the material of yourā€“ his ā€“ hoodie. It's entirely too big for you, even when you're standing, but laying back like this, the material absolutely dwarfs you.Ā 
He must like the sight of it, because you watch him grip himself tight.
"Fuck, babygirl. You don't know what you do to me. Wearing my clothes? Are you even wearing anything under that?"
Feeling bold, you reach down and pull the hem of the sweater up, just enough so that he can see the expanse of skin right under it. When he looks back at your face, you give him an innocent expression, eyes wide and blinking.
He doesn't even bother taking anything off, just pulls his cock out of his sweats and starts stroking himself again. You feel your mouth go dry just from the sight of itā€“ hard and flushed red, precum dripping from the tip. You grip the material of his sweater tighter.
ā€œGonna be good, baby?" he breathes. "Wanna get off like this."
You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. He looks fucking delicious above you, cock in hand as he strokes himself faster now, moaning at the way you look underneath him.
"Gonna make myself cum on your stomach," he grunts. "Mark you. Then I'll fuck you until you're screaming, so everyone knows who you belong to.ā€
You feel your cunt throbbing in your underwear. You cant help the way you whine out his name, the way you squeeze your thighs together to try to get some relief. He looks like he's going to explode just from hearing you say his name like that.
He leans over you, bracing one hand on the back of the couch by your head, effectively caging you in. You can feel how his muscles flex under your hands as you touch him, sliding your palms up and down his chest. You find your eyes locked onto his hand, watching the way he moves up and down.
"Couldn't stop thinking about you," he breathes. "Fucked my fist so many times wishing it was you.ā€
You wrap your arms around him, one hand going up to that special spot at the base of his neck. As you graze your nails against it, he turns his face, pressing his nose into the pulse point on your wrist, inhaling you and your smell.
He starts moaning louder, breath fanning across your arm as he gets closer and closer to the edge. You're so turned on from it, you feel like you might actually cum without a hand to your body.
"Babygirl," he grunts. "Baby, fuck. I'm close."
You pull him down to you, pressing his face right into your neck. You can feel how his eyelids flutter as his eyes roll back, the arm by your head straining with how tightly he's gripping the couch.
"Gonna let your alpha cum on your stomach, baby? Mark you?ā€
You nod quickly. You feel him lean in even more, brushing his lips against the soft part of your throat where he no doubt can feel your erratic pulse. You right into his ear, and then he's groaning out your name and nipping at your throat hard, all teeth and tongue and need as he spills all over you.
He makes sure to press his body flush against you while he rides out his orgasm, so that his cum splatters all over your stomach. He grinds up against you with his hips, making sure his cock slides along the fabric of his sweater. You watch him get lost in it, eyes screwed shut as he mouths at your throat, panting and moaning through his high.
Then he stills, just a bit. He pulls away from your neck, his pupils still completely blown as he looks down at you.
You're not sure what he sees when he does. You know sweat is starting to stick to your skin, plastering little bits of your hair to your face. Despite not being touched yet, you feel absolutely cock drunk if only on the sight of Chan alone.
You can't tell if that's what he sees, but whatever it is, it makes his still-hard cock jump against where it rests on your stomach. He's pushing himself up to sit on his knees before you even remember your own name.
He slides down the couch until his face is level with your hips. He pulls the waistband of your sweats down just enough for your cunt to be exposed, and then he's leaning forward, dragging his tongue along your slit.
"Fuck," you cry, body jolting. "Chan."
He doesn't respond verbally, just hums and pulls back enough to stare at your dripping cunt. You find your hips bucking up when he lets his mouth water just enough to drool right on you.
He dives back down to your cunt and pushes his tongue inside of you. You feel him moan against you as he licks you, slow and deliberate. You can hear how wet you are, and you feel yourself throb around his tongue when you hear it.
"I kept noticing your scent change," he says against your clit. He gives it a few kitten licks before diving down and flattening his tongue on you, licking and slurping you from end to end. "Sometimes, I would look at you, or touch you, and you smelled like citrus. Couldn't figure out why."
He takes those absurdly plump lips and suctions them around your clit, one strong arm coming to hold you down when you arch up off the bed.Ā  "Thats just your scent when you're aroused," he continues, nudging his nose against your clit. "Smells so fucking good."
You're certain you might be delirious at this point. The way Chan eats you out feels so much better than anything else you've ever felt, and his tongue has you hurdling to the crest of your orgasm faster than you can believe.
"Oh. Ohh," you whimper. "Channie, m'so close."
"That's my good girl," he murmurs. His lips are still right against your clit. "You're so perfect baby. Let me make you feel good. Want you to cum for me."
He slides his tongue back inside of you, and you feel a hand come up to play with your clit. You're so dangling off the edge, so ready to jump with the right push. You just need a little more, but then you feel a finger slide inside of you and crook up.
You're gone. You cum with a shout of Chan's name, arching up off of the couch as your body shakes from the intensity of it all. He licks you through it, pulling away only when you start to whine and wiggle around from the sensitivity.
He sits back on his knees again, watching you pant on the couch as you try to collect yourself. You look over at him when you catch your breath, and you see him licking his fingers clean.
He leans over you again, and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down. You don't bother asking first, just slot his lips to yours in a desperate kiss. It's absolutely wet and filthy, the flavor of yourself bursting over your tongue when he swipes into your mouth. You suck on his tongue, hard, and he groans into your mouth, hands sliding up under the sweater to touch your bare skin.
"Gonna fuck you good now," he grunts against your lips. You whine and press your body into his. "Okay, baby? Do you think you're ready for me?"
"Yes, Chris," you sigh. He pulls away from the kiss gently to stare at you. Despite the haze of his rut, you can see a hesitancy in his eyes, like there's something he wants but he's not saying. It takes all of two seconds for you to connect the dots.
"Please, Alpha?" you whine.
That seems to be the magic word, because he's lifting you up into his arms and standing up from the couch immediately. In a split second, you're pressed up against the wall next to the TV. You're very thankful for the layer between your bare skin and the freezing cold wall.
He wraps your legs around his waist, and suddenly you can feel the heat of his erection right on you. He presses his cock between your folds, holding you tight while he ruts up into you.Ā 
You're so wet that the head catches against your entrance every so often, making both of you moan into each others mouths.
"Thank you, baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically soft at a moment like this. "'m so grateful. So--" He lets out a pant, eyes rolling back as he lets his head drop back too. "Fuck."
You know Chan well enough to know what he's trying to say. He's thanking you for accepting him, for coming back to him, for letting him be vulnerable.
How could you not? He was so distressed by your wellbeing that a distant part of his DNA woke up to protect you. He ignored his doctor's orders to take you on this trip because he knew you needed it. He was content to suffer through his first rut in silence if it meant just taking care of you.
How could you not love all that he is?
You learn forward and nip him right as his pulse point, and his whole body jerks. You know werewolf lore, know that a bite there means a forever. You don't have the same genetic syndrome, but God do you want to be in his arms forever. You don't even feel like you need to question it.
His eyes, heavily lidded, find their way to your face. "You know what that bite means, right baby?" His voice is hoarse, and even when he clears his throat at your responding nod, it doesn't get better. "You wanna mark me there, babygirl? Make me yours?ā€
You nod, sliding your mouth up his throat until your lips are pressed right against his ear. You slide your tongue over his lobe and tug on it. "Please alpha. Wanna show everyone who you belong to."
He snakes a hand up your back until he finds your hair, fingers tangling in the roots as he grips, pulling your head back. "I mark you first," he grits out. "Let alpha take care of you."
You can't help the way you go pliant, letting your head fall to one side just enough to expose your neck to him. You watch his eyes and make your expression as wanting as possible.
He groans at that, finally pulling you away from the wall just enough so that he can line himself up. He pushes his tip right into you, and you press your forehead against his, the mixed sounds of your breathing being the only thing filling the atmosphere.
"I love you," he sighs. Your heart squeezes in your chest. "Gonna take such good care of you always, yeah?"
"I love you more, Chan," is your breathy reply.
"I'll give you everything," he sighs. "Everything you want. I just need you to come on my cock first, yeah? The alpha's got you. I got you."
Then he's pushing in slowly, and you both sigh as he bottoms out. You cling to him, pressing your face into his neck as he fucks you slowly into the wall.
He keeps it slow, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your forehead and hair, telling you how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how you were made just for him. You're already feeling the pressure building up in your stomach again, barely paying attention to what he's saying.Ā 
"Gonna breed this tight little pussy," he murmurs at some point. You do hear that, and you clench hard around him, making him groan.
"Oh fuck," he gasps. "You want my seed, huh? Want me to fuck my seed in you, angel?"
Your walls around him again, swallowing him up. You know you can't get pregnant-- birth control and all of that-- but the idea of him filling you up has your body begging for more. You dig your nails into the skin of his back and you feel him throb inside of you. He makes a sound between a grunt and a moan, slamming his hips into yours, cock sliding into you deeper than before.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Fuck, m'so close already. Think you can you cum with me angel? Hm?"
You nod, clinging to his shoulders as you bounce up and down on his cock. It feels so good, too good, and you're already so close yourself.
"Chris," you whine. "I'mā€“ fuck, I'm close."
"I know, babygirl," He sounds so wrecked. "I'm right behind you. You can cum for me baby. Cum for your alpha. Want you to cum on me, please."
He presses a kiss to your neck, right over your pulse point, and that's all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge. You cry out his name, letting him fuck you through it while your cunt pulsates around him. You feel him twitch in you, a deep guttural moan leaving his lips as he slams into you one last time, spilling all his cum inside of you.
He bites you then.
Its not painful, not really, because he doesn't break skin. His teeth aren't sharp enough for that. The bite is more performative than anything, but it sends a shockwave through your body.
Ā It's a strange feeling, almost like your blood is simmering under your skin, but you're so lost in the bliss of your orgasm that you don't even care. It feels right, anyhow. Like the final missing piece to a puzzle you've been spending a lifetime constructing.
He stays there for a second, sucking a bruise into your neck. His hands are shaking, but he's holding you tight enough that you don't even worry about falling.
Then, he licks the spot on your neck where he bit, soothing whatever pain he might've caused. He pulls away from you just enough to press a kiss to your lips, still holding you up with his cock in you.
"I love you," he whispers. "My mate. Mine."
You reach a hand up to touch his neck, and he tilts his head to the side, giving away to the instincts thrumming under his skin. You take your fingers and trace them along the column of his throat, stopping just under his Adam's apple.Ā 
You don't say anything at first, just lean forward and press your lips against the same spot. Your bite is more restrained, more gentle. He hisses out a strangled sound, and you would assume it was pain if you didn't feel his cock pulse in you.
When you pull away, you look at him, a small smile on both of your incredibly fucked out faces. You lean forward and press a little kiss to his lips.
"I love you too," is your quiet reply. "My mate."
As promised, he's so gentle with you afterwards, cleaning you up and giving you your medication when he scents your hips are about to ache. The entire ordeal is so familiar, so cozy, you wonder how you could've ever let yourself believe that Chan didn't love you too.
Hours later, when you're cuddled together on the couch, dozing off in his lap, you hear him whispering something against your hair. Your mind is so muddled with sleep you can barely make out the words he's saying.
You string together something about mates, something about how he'll protect you, how you're his everything, how he loves you so much.
It doesn't really matter though. You know already, because he's yours, and you're his.
His everything.
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the-tarot-witch22 Ā· 8 months ago
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Love letter from your future spouse šŸ’Œ - Pick a pile
Note : *Some intense se*ual messages for you guys too, soo minors DNI*
Pile 1/Pile 2
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Pile 3/ Pile 4
Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!
Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!
How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to!
Note : This reading is based on my intuition and channeled messages from tarot cards.
I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!
*Buy me a kofi*
Pile 1
(The cards I got ace of pentacles, ace of cups, 2 of cups, page of cups, and the fool)
Hello my dearest,
What can I say? I didn't even meet you and yet I still miss you. Am I going mad, my love? I am working towards my goal and I have almost everything i need at the moment but why do I still feel that longing and sadness, am I insane for this? my life has been okay, I work or study and do what needs to be done, but is it weird to say i am searching for you? I hope you feel the same wayā€¦ sometimes i dream of you or have that romantic dreams where you are there and when i wake upā€¦ nothing? It's making me lose my mind, i can't really talk about it with everyone, they will or might think i am just desperate for some shit, but i am not i want something serious, i want you. I have fun too i sometimes go out with my friends we laugh together, but still when I look at them or when they talk about their lovers or text them in front of me, i just miss you.. Am i being too much? probably but i wanted to tell of this to you, I feel like i need some rest or space from everything or just go somewhere where i can be alone with my and your thoughts, but the responsibilities are holding me back , I wish you were here to hold me and tell me everything will be okay. Sometimes I feel like we make some telepathic or some sort of connection and i feel that intense vibrations in my body, I haven't even met you and here I am being vulnerable, But i know you will love this side of me, will you not? I also want to tell you you're doing great and you will achieve everything you have dreamt of please take proper care of yourself, I wanna meet you soon, and have the love , fun i never experienced or had, You know love, what's funny thing is? I never had something serious or people had just taken advantage of me, but you without even meeting you, i can tell you are what i need. Please be patient for me, universe is in work and they will help us meet at divine timing and I can't wait for it. Until then, my love.
Phew so intense they had a lot to say to you, and they seem so sweet, don't they? i wish you meet them soon.
Pile 2:
(the cards I got 3 of cups, the star, 5 of cups and king of cups)
hey ;)
Hello my star, what are you up to nowadays? Are you having fun without me? wait don't answer me that i might get jealous over it, what's wrong with me I am not scaring you away am I? I tend to speak my mind, and show what I feel, because that's how I am. But sincerely tho, i hope you are having fun and celebration and you are enjoying your life, you know this is what we should do? Like just enjoy our times, I know how hectic life can get and we all deserve the break, so do it for you don't let anyone tell you that you are not doing enough because my star , you are and i already swooning over here from the thoughts of you, would you like to hear about my life too? I will tell you what I am doing nowadays, I had lost something precious to me, I know not a way great way to start a conversation right? But i wanna tell you, I lost something, i hate that I did, but to be honest? If it leads me to you , then i am willing to sacrifice anything for it, i wish we could meet sooner, but i know this distance this gap between us only increase our love towards each other, because distance makes heart grows fonder right? Now I wont deny when I lost that thing I was sad and even cried, But now I am healing and your thoughts are helping me? Do you miss me too at the same time? and wonder what we could have been doing if we were together? Because I do. Always. It's not even funny at this point. Gosh your thoughts make me feel all romantic thoughts, you are such a tease by the way hiding away and making desperate for you, don't you worry my star , I will take my revenge when I meet you, sweet revenge, I will tease you so much that you will regret meeting me late, Don't worry I am just kidding, i tend to get intense sometimes, but your thoughts are responsible they make me like this. But right now I am working towards something I am saving money for us our future and maybe kids too? Well, its a conversation for laterā€¦ But if you don't want kids we can always have pets, right? I want to give you the world, and care for you so much for you. Now, I have to goā€¦ Duty calls, but remember I miss you, and I love you even if we haven't met yet.
Pile 2 your fs sounds like a total flirt and a good person, and I love it for you! You guys deserve it <3
Pile 3:
the cards I got (knight of wands, 9 of wands, 3 of wands, 8 of wands)
Hello sexy wanderer,
Do you know what kind of thoughts, I have for you? You my sexy wildcat, you are a pure goddess and you are so beautiful, and what can I say i have such dreams for you, I just wanna tear off your clothes, i will just leave it at that, You feel like a dream come true. Wherever I go I imagine having intense intimate moments with you, and I don't even know why, such a hold you have on me, and guess what we haven't even met yet. I have to say so much to you but i will hold out for now, I don't wanna scare you away, but its totally opposite I don't wanna scare you away but i also want to impress you, I wanna have enjoy small moments with you. I would like to make out and show everyone who you actually love. Not them who stares at your beauty or just wanna have fun with you but me, you chose me, i will show that I am a proud men, and worthy of you, right now I am travelling to far away lands I like doing that you know, but i am gonna coming to meet you soon. And you believe me when i say i will sweep you off your feet and give everything you are worthy of. See you soon.
Wow, they seem too passionate, and you know what? Good for you guys! Their message was short but their energy? give me a fan right now because I need it! They are definitely fire sign and love travelling, and their sexual drive? HIGH. They gave me so much hot kind of energy, I love it for you guys, i totally see you both meeting soon!
Pile 4 :
(the cards I got 4 of pentacles, the magician, ace of wands, strength, The Hermit, 6 of cups, 3 of pentacles)
Sweetheart? Once, we meet I am not letting you go ever, But i will make sure you know that I deserve you, I might make mistakes here and there, but that's just me being foolish or silly, but I never intend to fight with you or hurt you, You know I am a bit overprotective, but if you don't like that I am willing to change my ways for you, Right now there is so much work pressure on me, i feel overwhelmed so I decided to talk with you, even though we are not in each other's lives right now, I feel I can talk to you about anything you make me feel safe like i can be myself, i never had that, it was always me making efforts, but with you i can feel we are each other's light, and I wish we cross each other's path soon, right now i am enjoying my alone time, I am not dating around, I am waiting for you sweetheart, and I have a feeling we will know we are the ones for each other. I feel we have known each other in past lives or we might have each cross each other's path, but that time timing might not be right, And we both needed to learn some lessons before we meet again, and honestly? I'd like that. I wanna be the best men for you. I love you, and for you I am willing to fight anything or anyone, Some people think i am workaholic, but they don't know what I feel, or who i feel for the person i feel for is you, you make me wanna be a better man, i wish there wasn't this much wait for us to meet, I have so much to tell you, Sometimes I end up fighting with my close ones, I regret it, I am a very calm person but when someone provokes me? I can't take it. I am working on that too. And that's why we are having our self journey's together and let's meet at our best, sweetheart. Till then remember I am here waiting for you and trying to be a best person who deserves you. I love you my sweetheart.
Okayyyy, very masculine and hardworking energy, they or you might be spiritual too, you meeting will be for the best, for some of you i feel friends to lovers trope going to be here, your man sounds so sweet yet tired. But he is doing his best, you guys got a gem.
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Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3
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illubean Ā· 6 months ago
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saiki k with a reader whoā€™s like super sleepy and makes everyone around them sleepy too? may or may not be a physic up to you tho!
Saiki W/ a Sleepy!Psychic!Reader
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Characters: Kusuo Saiki Type: mix of headcanons and sort of a oneshot??, Gn!Reader
saiki kusuOOOOOOO
Warnings: none
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when you first transferred into his class he was confused as to why he couldn't read your thoughts
congrats, you're now categorized with bugs and nendo..
and he was even more confused that the minute you walked in, everyone started yawning and his eye's felt heavy
"We have a new transfer student today, class. Why don't you come on in and introduce yourself?" Saiki watched as you lazily trudged into the room, posture hunched with droopy, slow blinking eyelids. You let out a yawn and stretched as if you just got out of bed before stating your name.
Saiki's eyes narrowed at you while you walked towards your new seat, everyone else yawning as you passed them by. Lucky for him, you happened to sit directly behind him, and suddenly he finds it hard to keep his head upright.
after this he...stalks you pretty much
not because he's some weirdo pervert but because he needs to get to the bottom of what's going on! (doesn't make it any less creepy...)
he watches you from a safe distance, but you seem to be like every other average person at this school
For the past week you felt like you've been watched wherever you go. Around the halls at school, on your way to the vending machine, even during your walk home. No matter which way you looked, there was never anything out of the ordinary. You'd always heard of those weird stories about crazy stalkers, but you never thought it could happen to you of all people.
You were just an average student; doing nothing particularly interesting outside of academics or school clubs. Or so everyone thought. Save for Saiki. He knew there was something off about you, but he has yet to see you do anything odd. He was getting frustrated waiting for you to make any sort of move that would reveal you as a potential threat.
one day Saiki manages to corner you and lays the interrogation on thick
you're like super confused and that's when he realized he fucked up and revealed his powers to you
he makes you swear to not tell anyone and may or may not force you to meet his brother to get to the bottom of your weird sleepy powers
whether you just have a useless sleepy power or others you also don't know about is up to you
"Alright, spit it out. Who are you really and what are your intentions at this school?"
Your back was abruptly slammed into the wall as you rounded the corner, and you never expected to come face to face with your pink haired classmate this way. You've never heard him speak much, making him mysterious and even more intimidating in a situation like this.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb with me, everywhere you go you make everyone around you tired. Besides, I can't read your thoughts and I never know your next move. Who sent you? Dark reunion!?"
You stared at him blankly for a moment, blinking slowly as you process everything he just said to you.
"...dark reunion? Forget that, you can read people's minds!?"
Oh. Crap.
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mingis-orangejuice Ā· 6 months ago
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Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 4: Sylus
Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend
a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) Here's Sylus' part its the longest part, but also my favourite. hope you like it. also, I probably mixed up Luke and Kieran multiple times so just ignore it lol.
Genres/Warnings: lots of Luke and Kieran shenanigans, a bit of angst, fluff, kinda slow burn
Word count: 1936
Previous Parts 1 2 3
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You were spending the day with Luke and Kieran, it was supposed to be with sylus but something came up. He didnā€™t want you to waste your day off so he arranged for them to escort you around Linkon and basically do whatever you want for the whole day. While you were happy to have a chill day with your bodyguards/friends Luke and Keiran you were really looking forward to spending a whole day with Sylus. But recently lots of things have come up and he kept rescheduling all your dates. Was he trying to tell you something, is this his way of saying heā€™s not actually interested in you romantically but heā€™s too chicken to tell you? No, he wouldnā€™t do that, Sylus is one of the most direct people you know, if he didnā€™t like you, heā€™d just say so. So then why does it feel like heā€™s just stringing you along, when is he going to make you two official?
ā€œMC?...MC?...ā€ Lukeā€™s voice snapped you out of your train of thought.Ā 
ā€œWhat? sorry I was a little spaced out.ā€ you turn to the twins standing above you while you sit at one of the tables of the Linkon Mall foodcourt.
ā€œI said where do you want to go for lunch? There's so many choicesā€ Luke gestured to the row of different restaurants among the foodcourt.
ā€œWe could always have the bossā€™s favourite, ever since you let him try your instant ramen that's all he asks the chefs to make for him when youā€™re away,ā€ Kieran suggested as both boys took a seat next to you on the other side of the table. ā€œThere's a ramen place right over thereā€
ā€œUmmā€¦ Iā€™m not sureā€¦ Iā€™m not really hungry right nowā€ You looked vacantly across the mall foodcourt starting to space out again
ā€œThe boss said there's no limit to how much we can spend today so we donā€™t have to eat here. Or if you canā€™t decide on what to eat we can buy a bit of everything and you can taste them allā€ Kieran suggests while taking out Sylusā€™ black credit card from his pocket.
ā€œYou have to eat something, the boss doesnā€™t want you to skip meals he told us to make sure you eat something or elseā€ Luke warned in a fake threatening voice.
ā€œWell, I guess if I have to in order to save you two from Sylusā€™ wrath, then I want something homemade, not this cheap generic stuff, so letā€™s go back to the base and see what we can cook up, what do you say?ā€Ā 
ā€œAnything for the Bossā€™s girlfriend,ā€ Kieran said with a smile, he stood up and put out his arm for him to escort you to the car.
ā€œHuhā€¦ what did you say?ā€ You stopped reaching for Kieranā€™s arm at the word girlfriend.
ā€œAnything for the bossā€™s ā€¦girlfriendā€¦. Iā€™m confused, are you not his girlfriendā€ Kieran looked embarrassed like he might have misread the situation.
ā€œWell yeahā€¦but .. heā€™s never said it beforeā€¦so I didnā€™t think he thought of me as his girlfriend.ā€ you stood awkwardly looking at the floor and playing with your hands.
ā€œOf course he thinks of you that way he gets all smiley when he or anyone else mentions you. I donā€™t think Iā€™ve ever seen the boss smile so much before you came alongā€ Luke grabbed your bags as you guys started to head to the car. ā€œThe boss just has a hard time expressing his emotions. ā€Ā  he mentioned brightly
ā€œYeah for the first year of us working for him he pretended not to remember our names cuz he didnā€™t want to seem soft, even tho he could already tell us apart after the first day even with our masks on.ā€ Kieran said as he looked up to the sky like he was reminiscing on the Good-old-daysĀ 
ā€œBut he always calls you his girlfriend around usā€Ā 
ā€œRight, he even calls you his girlfriend in the task memos he sends usā€ Luke shows you his phone with all the tasks set out by sylus. He clicks play and a voice recording of Sylus starts.Ā 
ā€œ1. As Iā€™ll be away for the day take my girlfriend to the mall and get her anything she wants, to keep her happy
2. Make sure she eats something for lunch, she tends to skip meals and gets really tired halfway through the day because of it. If she doesnā€™t eat anything, a punishment will be waiting for you upon your return.
3. Carry everything for her no matter how much she buys, rent a truck if you have to, I donā€™t want her straining herself before tonightā€™s special eventā€¦ā€
ā€œWaitā€ you click pause on Lukeā€™s phone. ā€œwhat event, he never told me about that.ā€Ā 
ā€œUhhā€¦oopsā€ Luke quickly puts away his phone ā€œYou werenā€™t supposed to hear that. Just pretend it didnā€™t happenā€
Kieran slaps Lukeā€™s arm ā€œYou idiot, that was supposed to be a surprise, the boss is gonna kill usā€
ā€œJust what is he planning?ā€ you interrogate the twins. Both of them looked at each other as they opened the car door and helped you in.
ā€œour lips are sealed.ā€ they both said in unison while placing their fingers in an X over their lips
You guys were now in the car on the way back to the base. Youā€™ve fallen silent thinking about this special event. just what kind of event was this? It couldn't be something bad, right? Was he breaking up with you? Is that why he let you use his card with no limit, to give you one final good day then heā€™d cut you off??? You couldnā€™t take the suspense anymore, you had to know. You took your phone out of your purse and called Sylus. Your phone was connected to the carā€™s speakers and Kieran saw that you were calling him and got a little nervous. Sylus picked up almost immediately.Ā 
ā€œYes, Sweetie? What's wrong, are Luke and Kieran not treating You well, do you need me to get rid of them for you? Iā€™ve been looking for some new Henchmen anywayā€ He said with a chuckle
ā€œHey, weā€™re right here you know?ā€ Kieran said in a hurt voice
ā€œI know, that's why I said itā€ ā€œSylus joked
ā€œAnd you wouldnā€™t get rid of us, right boss?ā€ Luke asked, ā€œWeā€™re your favourite henchmen, right?ā€
Sylus completely ignores Luke's question ā€œ...So why did you call sweetie? Remember when I said I was very busy today and that weā€™d see each other later tonight?ā€
You didnā€™t want to beat around the bush so you got straight to the point.ā€œYeah, thatā€™s what I wanted to ask about, what exactly is happening tonight? What's the Special event and why didnā€™t you tell me earlier?ā€Ā 
There was silence on the other end and then an annoyed groan. ā€œDid you two tell her?ā€ Sylus sounded like he was about to jump through the phone and punch both of them in the face.
ā€œNo boss we promise all she knows is that thereā€™s an event tonight she doesnā€™t know anything else,ā€ Kieran said frantically ā€œPlease donā€™t get rid of usā€
Ignoring them again he sighed. ā€œWhere are you right now babe?ā€
ā€œWe were on our way to the base for lunch.ā€ You informed him
ā€œat least those two can do something rightā€ he sighs. ā€œOk then Iā€™ll be waiting for you at the base and Iā€™ll explain everything.ā€ *Click* he hangs up
Now you were even more curious, what was sylus planning?
ā€œDo you think the boss is really gonna get rid of us?ā€ Luke asked you in a scared voice.
ā€œI doubt it, you guys mess up all the time and he hasnā€™t gotten rid of you yet, what's one more mess upā€ you say in a joking tone ā€œPlus if heā€™s as nice as you say he is, then you donā€™t have anything to worry about.ā€
Later back at the base you all walk into the living room to see Sylus sitting on the couch reading a book. ā€œOh, youā€™re back.ā€ Sylus puts down his book and pats the space next to him for you to join him on the couch. ā€œCome, sit. Letā€™s talk.ā€ as you sit he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He then looked up to where the twins were standing. ā€œYou two, Iā€™ll deal with you later. Leave us be for now.ā€
ā€œYes boss.ā€ they both say and hurriedly walk out of the room.
On the way to the base after the phone call you just couldnā€™t stop thinking about what this event could be and mixed with your thoughts from earlier you were only coming up with every bad result it could be. All those thoughts and emotions were boiling inside and before Sylus could say anything they overflowed ā€œWhat are we?ā€Ā 
ā€œHuh?ā€ Sylus looked confused ā€œSweetie, what do you mean?ā€
ā€œWhy do you keep avoiding me and why won't you call me your girlfriend? Apparently, youā€™ll say it in front of everyone else but me.ā€ You moved back so you were out of his gripĀ 
ā€œThose two, Iā€™ll fire them for sure this time,ā€ He says under his breath.
ā€œAnd what is this event? Why didnā€™t you tell me about it, is it about me? Did I do something wrong?ā€ Your voice slightly cracked on the last word and your eyes started to get misty.
ā€œWoah, slow down, if I knew it would make you feel like this I would have explained sooner.ā€ He pulls you close again, holds your face in his palms and wipes your tears with his thumbsĀ  ā€œFirst, We are Sylus and MC the strongest and most feared couple in the N109 Zone.ā€ He chuckled. ā€œSecond, Iā€™m sorry that I made you feel this way. I knew you were curious but I didnā€™t know the curiosity would get to you this much. I wasnā€™t avoiding you, Iā€™ve been setting up the special event that Iā€™ll tell you more about in due time. But, as for your third questionā€¦ā€ Sylus pulls your head in closer and places a soft kiss on your lips that nearly takes your breath away. He pulls away and looks at you with a smirk ā€œYouā€™ve also never called me your boyfriend so I guess weā€™re evenā€Ā 
ā€œYeah wellā€¦I didnā€™t want to assumeā€¦ Iā€ You start to stutter both from the kiss and his accusation.
He stops you and places another kiss on your lips ā€œI guess we both felt that wayā€Ā 
ā€œSo then what about the event?ā€ youā€™re now sitting closer to him his hands on your waist to keep you close.
ā€œOh yeah, the eventā€¦ I was gonna let you watch while I fire Luke and Kieran. I set up events every time I want to fire one of my men, why do you think I had you keep them out of the house the whole day?ā€ He joked.
You softly slapped his chest and rolled your eyes ā€œ I know youā€™re joking those two might be idiots but youā€™d never fire them. Come on seriously what is it really?ā€
ā€œOk, I'll tell you, if you can tell me something first, what day is it today? He asks, hoping youā€™ll know the answer.
ā€œUh, Sunday?ā€ you say confused as to why this day of the week had any significance.
ā€œYou canā€™t even remember yet you want me to call you my girlfriend,ā€ Sylus said pretending to be offended ā€œItā€™s the anniversary of when a little kitten first wandered into the N109 Zone andā€¦ā€ he pulls you into a hug ā€œ into my lifeā€
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literally-loco Ā· 3 months ago
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My Boys' Girl (18+)
Pairings: John Price / Simon "Ghost" Riley / Fem!Reader / Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Content Warnings: Voyeurism, mentioned exhibitionism, she/her pronouns used for reader Word Count: 1.1k A/N: Shorter fic this time-I've got a longer one in the works tho! Also-If anyone has any fic suggestions PLEASE tell me and i'll try my best xoxo
ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€” ā€œShe wanted to show off for you, Cap.ā€
ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”
John Price knew what his boys got up to in their spare time. He didnā€™t have to be told-he saw how they looked at each other, how theyā€™d cuddled up to each other in the back of the van when they thought no one was looking, how theyā€™d instantly look at each other at the mention of an ā€œearly finish.ā€ He knew what they got up to. Not that he cared-he loved his lads like they were family. Heā€™d shot enough evil glares at anyone who dared to criticize or gossip about the two. But what he didnā€™t know was how theyā€™d managed to pick up you. The pretty little thing heā€™d seen clutching Johnnyā€™s arm when they went to the pub, with the most beautiful eyes. He was happy for his lads-how theyā€™d found home in each other, but God his eyes were drawn to you. Your perfect curves, your breasts (even if it made him feel like a dick), and your eyes. He could envision them looking up at him through those beautiful lashes, lips wrapped around his cock.Ā 
He felt terrible about it. The lads obviously liked you a lot, and youā€™d been nothing but nice to him. And here he was-fantasizing about you. Heā€™d often find himself getting off to you, wearing whatever tight little dress heā€™d seen you in. Cock in hand, imagining it was your mouth he was fucking. Nearly every night heā€™d flick through the selfies heā€™d gotten from MacTavish, nearly every photo including you.Ā 
And then another notification came through-a photo, as usual. But it wasnā€™t the usual jokey selfie-which usually included you draped over the lads in some sort of way. This was different. This photo wasā€¦new. Evidently Ghostā€™s hands-based on the glove-tilting your face up by the chin, with your big, beautiful eyes staring into the camera. Eyes lidded every so slightly, with a blissed out look on your face. God you looked perfect.Ā 
He hadnā€™t realized how long heā€™d been staring at that picture, his cock already stiffening in his trousers, until the next one came through. He exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping the arm of the chair a lot tighter than he had previously. It was like he could feel all the blood in his body rushing down, as he caught sight of you in the photo. Ass up in the air, face down in the pillow. Ghostā€™s hands were clearly holding your hands behind your back, and your pussy was barely covered by the lacy piece of string you called a thong.Ā 
ā€œShe wanted to show off for you Cap.ā€ The text read, and Price sucked in a breath. His hand swiftly reached down to palm his now painfully hard cock through his trousers. He could just imagine slipping his fingers inside you-finding that sweet spot deep inside you that would make your toes curl.Ā 
His fingers were pressing the call button before he knew what he was doing.Ā 
ā€œEvening Captain. To what do we owe the honor?ā€ Johnnyā€™s voice rang out, sounding slightly too amused with himself.
ā€œPhotos, MacTavish. What was up with that?ā€ Price asked, his voice catching in his throat slightly at Johnnyā€™s ever so evil chuckle.
Price swears he can hear the plot in Johnnyā€™s head as he spoke, the soft rustling of the duvet giving away where exactly he was. ā€œWhy donā€™t I put her on the phone for you?ā€Ā 
ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”
You could barely think-but somehow managed to pull yourself together enough to take the phone off of Johnny. ā€œHe-Hey John!ā€ You squeaked out, instantly covering your mouth to conceal the moan that dared to try to escape your lips. Ghostā€™s hands gripped your hips, fucking into you at such speed you wondered how his knees didnā€™t give out, with his cock hitting that sweet spongy part deep inside you.Ā 
ā€œHeard you wanted to show off for me, love?ā€ His voice rumbled through the phone, dark and smooth like a good whiskey. That teasing tone, the soft chuckle in his words, it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. ā€œGo on then. Talk to me.ā€
At that, Ghost picked up the pace, hands gripping the flesh of your hip so tight you were sure it would leave bruises. ā€œIs he making you feel good, love? Making your legs shake?ā€ You inhaled a strangled gasp, biting your lower lip slightly.Ā 
ā€œAsked you a question.ā€ Ye-ah-ā€ You whined, bucking your hips back against Ghost. Something about having Price on the phone, with Ghost fucking you like his life depended on it, and Johnny watching from the corner-it felt so dirty. But so good. ā€œNeed-need to cum-ā€Ā 
ā€œI know you do, love. Gonna cum for me?ā€ Ghostā€™s hands found your clit, earning a string of moans out of you. ā€œYeah she is-can feel her squeezing around me. So fucking tight-and wet-ā€ Ghostā€™s thrusts grew staggered, his hips slamming into yours. You didnā€™t care to be quiet anymore, there was no point.Ā 
ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”ā€”
John already knew what was going on. Heā€™d known before heā€™d called. He knew when he called that youā€™d be on your back-but he hadnā€™t expected to be listening. It felt dirty. But God the way your sweet little moans had him gripping his aching cock, and his head tossed back over the chair. Bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was fucking your soft little cunt. ā€œGonna cum for me?ā€ Heā€™d asked-and the gasps and moans he got in return had him gasping for breath.Ā 
ā€œI know you need it, love.ā€ He murmured into the phone, trying his hardest not to cum before you. ā€œBe a good girl and cum for me.ā€ He needed to hear you cum. To hear those gorgeous gasps as you came on his Lieutenantā€™s cock, imagining he was the one balls deep inside you. ā€œCome on, love, cum for me.ā€Ā 
And the shuddering moans he received was enough for him to spill over his hand. Panting heavily-he was barely aware enough to hear Ghostā€™s cursing gasps as he followed.Ā 
ā€œEnjoyed the show then, Captain?ā€ Johnnyā€™s voice was back, sounding equally out of breath as the rest of them. ā€œShouldā€™ve seen it in person-she played such a good girl when you got on the phone.ā€ His words sent another shudder down his back.
ā€œYou knew then?ā€Ā 
ā€œHad a hunch. Couldnā€™t keep your eyes off of her.ā€ Price groaned as his hand-the clean one-came up to cover his face. Heā€™d been that obvious. The whole time.Ā 
ā€œDonā€™t worry lad-sheā€™s already eager to see you again. Iā€™m always down for a good show-and Simonā€™s pretty interested in seeing how sheā€™d take both of you.ā€Ā  Well shit. The next pub meet was going to go very well for him.
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taintedtort Ā· 10 months ago
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Hihii...!!! i really love ur HCs and i wanted to ask if you're comfortable with these types of character writing, what r ur headcanons on kenma, kuro, tsuki n maybe suna would act when they're drunk ? like would they be a bit different than their usual self ? sorry to ask a lot but im more curious on ur thoughts on kenma ;; .. write whatever u can, idm ! thank u ehehe have a good one ! >_< <3
" LET'S GET DRUNK! "
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summary. theyā€™re drunk lolz
characters. kenma, kuroo, tsukishima
warnings. afab!reader, drinking/alcohol, post timeskip!!!^^
a/n. yesss i love kenma, many thoughts on him!! heā€™s my favorite!!! didnā€™t add suna because i donā€™t really know his character that well :( added a kenma bonus to make up for it tho!
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KENMA
ā˜† i think heā€™d be a sleepy drunk. he's out as soon as his head hits any soft surfaceā€” maybe even before! i feel like he also acts grumpier, mumbling complaints when you wake him up and try to move him (he was passed out on your shoulder in the car, you have to get him to bed!)
ā˜† his face gets kinda pink, like heā€™s blushing. heā€™s pale, so itā€™s more noticeable than it would be on someone else. his eyes get droopy and his face sort of relaxes, so he looks mean and tired.
ā˜† he stubbles slightly, but he surprisingly manages to maneuver himself pretty well for a drunk person. just donā€™t ask him to do a cartwheel or anythingā€¦ he couldnā€™t even do one of those while sober.
ā˜† he doesnā€™t drink often, so heā€™s a light weightā€¦ plus heā€™s skinny and on the smaller side, so he doesnā€™t have to drink much to get a buzz. heā€™s usually responsible though, but sometimes he celebrates too hard (with a bit of a push from kuroo)
ā˜† he doesnā€™t get any more talkative, but heā€™s less filtered that normal. i donā€™t think heā€™d be too flirty or mean, but if he got drunk enough he may compliment you a couple times.
BONUS:
ā˜† the type to get so drunk he forgets who you are. you come find him to pick him up after someone called you, and heā€™s face down on the table. you nudge him, trying to gently guide him to stand, but heā€™s immediately swatting you away, grumbling about how he has a girlfriend.
"leave m' aloneā€” got a girlfriend already," he slurs, raising his head to drunkenly glare at you. his eyes narrow further when you laugh.
"kenmaā€¦ iā€™m youā€™re girlfriend," you tell him, always finding it a bit amusing when he gets this drunk. heā€™s not too much of a hassle though, since he usually knocks right out when you get home and tuck him in.
he's silent for a moment, just staring at you up and down. he wears the same expression he has whenever he buys a new video game, excited and in awe.
"reallyā€¦?" he asks, a hopeful tone in his voice. now that heā€™s looking at youā€¦ you are really pretty. he really hopes you're his girlfriend.
"yes, really. iā€™m gonna take you home, okay? cmon," you urge, gently grabbing his arm and helping him stand. he complies this time, his eyebrows raising.
"we live together?" he questions, the situation just getting better and better to him.
"we do," you confirm, another giggle leaving you. it doesnā€™t really hurt your feelings that he doesnā€™t remember, you find it more amusing and entertaining than anything.
"ā€¦ im so lucky," you hear him whisper under his breath, looking at you as you guide him to the car.
KUROO
ā˜† he'd be a funny drunk i thinkā€¦ a bit of a handful, and is entertaining at first, but eventually gets annoying. his emotions kind of double when heā€™s intoxicated, and heā€™s also kind of erratic. really energetic after his first few drinks, but if heā€™s extra drunk, heā€™s more emotional.
ā˜† his eyes get a little watery, but thatā€™s about it. he actually looks more lively while heā€™s drunk, because he makes more facial expressions.
ā˜† he canā€™t stand straight at all, especially if heā€™s had more than a couple drinks. needs support to walk, otherwise he'll fall. heā€™s heavy though, and puts majority of his weight on you, so sometimes you end up falling anyway.
ā˜† he can handle his alcohol pretty well. takes him a few drinks to get a buzz, but he doesnā€™t usually stop there. mostly drinks to celebrate things, or at parties. never drinks alone, thatā€™s just boring and sad to him.
ā˜† probably asks you random stupid questions like "what number am i?" or "what animal would i be?" (follows up that second question with "would you still love me if i was that animal?")
ā˜† i think heā€™s more talkative, but he speaks faster and his words are kinda jumbled, so itā€™s hard to understand him sometimes. he gets a lot more sappy, constantly complimenting you and telling you that he loves you (he does that all the time already)
"y're sooo pretty, love you s' much."
TSUKISHIMA
ā˜† not that much different than when heā€™s sober, honestly. he gets more mellow, surprisingly, though it might be because alcohol makes him a little sleepy, similar to kenma. he isnā€™t quick to fall asleep, but heā€™s not energetic and jumping around.
ā˜† his face is more relaxed, which makes him look even more intimidating and mean. his eyes get a little red around the edges, but thatā€™s mostly it.
ā˜† stubbles quite a bit and holds things for support. if you try to help him, heā€™ll snip and you and complain that he doesnā€™t need your help to walk. (he does, and eventually gives in and leans on you a bit when he almost falls on his face)
ā˜† also a lightweight. doesnā€™t go drinking unless heā€™s invited, and even then heā€™s usually the designated driver. on top of that, he hates being hung over, and he hates throwing up, so he rarely gets super drunk. kuroo tries to persuade him sometimes, but the most he gets his a little tipsy.
ā˜† probably gets into debates with people about certain topics that he likes, arguing with them about facts and opinions. he usually wins. even when heā€™s drunk, heā€™s still quick witted.
ā˜† he fights you on everything, insisting heā€™s fine and "not drunk" whenever you try to help him. you end up ignoring his complaints and just assist him with changing and getting into bed anyway. heā€™s asleep pretty quickly, especially if you run his back/scalp.
"i donā€™t need helpā€” i'm not even that drunk!"
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signedsfs Ā· 5 months ago
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not to out myself but Yeah...I think it was all such a Bad Idea, and I. am a little confused about people who are generally so objective and analytical about most character choices Agreeing with him that it was a necessary choice to "help" Damian.
I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...
primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe šŸ‘ļøšŸ‘ļø ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.
and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.
skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!
(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)
I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.
Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.
But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.
Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.
As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.
Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.
There's your very adequate analysis:
Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.
Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."
Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin
Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force
This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.
The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.
His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.
He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)
Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin
It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.
So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.
They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.
To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).
I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.
#batrant#I don't care as much if Characters agree because like...their view of Robin is way different than readers/writers#so I get why a character might see Robin as necessary/A Good Influence/etc...at least on an Emotional level#but writers/readers can see the bigger effects of Robin and the cost of certain decisions#BatDick did so many things that I just...don't think he would have even Considered to be options. but the writers just kinda...#tore Dick apart to be Damian's...whatever Dick is. sort of a dad. sort of a mentor. sort of a brother.#but basically equally as useless as every other adult around Damian. but Special because he was Batman#Damian Has had plenty of development (that keeps getting deleted) but it feels like he really did a vast majority of that growth on his own#he is a good/interesting character but him being able to Do what he does makes everyone around him look...really really bad.#sort of in a similar way that Tim saying Batman 'needs' a Robin made everyone who allowed/encouraged him to be Robin look pretty bad#'oh no Bruce is going off the rails! he'll get himself killed! we gotta *checks notes* encourage this stalker child to be the next Robin'#even tho Tim Specifically Came To Dick to have Someone With Experience help pull Bruce back from the edge#(not that I blame Dick for saying No#just that...knowing what Bruce was like...and encouraging Tim to do that...mmmaybe not Ideal)#we as readers know that the Comics needed a Robin#but that doesn't mean Bruce himself as a Character with a lot of Violent Grief needed a Robin#I enjoy Tim going on insane adventures and suffering tragedy but like. I wouldn't tell myself he Needed all that for growth or some shit#I enjoy what Damian can do in his adventures but that doesn't mean I think he Needed that shit to be okay.#none of the bats are Healthy...they make Bad Choices...and we love that! so why is this one super ooc choice viewed as Good and Necessary?#Bruce shouldn't have had Any Robins...but if he Did then Dick should've been the last. but like. Comics Needed Robin. so he got more.#that's all it is. the kids do not benefit much from being Robin. assuming they survive at all. Happy Memories does not mean Healthy Choices#anyway I lied in the ask. there's actually THREE vent fic wips. I have a lot of feelings...and I'm tagging them as#NotMyDickGrayson#because after that...Dick Grayson never came back from what they did to him to become Damian's Batman
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bbluefllame Ā· 4 months ago
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I love your UA Touya so muchhhh!!! If you donā€™t mind, can you write down UA Touya HCā€™s!!!šŸ¤šŸ¤
U.A touya hcs !!
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note: I was gonna save this till I finish all my other reqs but I decided why the fuck not šŸ˜­ also thank u for loving my ua touya!! he's officially my everythingā€¼ļø also also!!! this is a sugar spice and everything nice universe<3 everyone's okay here ā€¼ļø
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- nepo baby I have nothing else to say, you've def went on multiple trips w him and his family (ur basically the 5th child for them). His bday gifts go so hard and he's like "yeah yeah whateverrrr" while blushing if u hug him!!
- he's a super heavy sleeper. Like normal touya is a menace while sleeping, ua touya is double that and it's scary I fear him. Sleepovers always end up with you going to sleep in the guest room cs the mf won't stop moving, kicking, snoring, and talking (and occasionally shouting)šŸ˜­ instead of js "no I don't do that." he'd go "huh don't remember doing it so it didn't happen. šŸ¤·ā€ā™‚ļø" obviously you don't remember you were sleeping mf.
- he gives his all in training (esp cs he has support gear), training w him is like a full-on battle it's a fucking struggle to hold him down, but also he'd be the best training partner you'd ever have. He would NEVER and I say NEVER take it easy unless you ask him to, if he gives it his all he wants you to give it your all.
- loves SWS and PTV, has been forced into piano by Rei as a child and kind of liked it, he probably likes classical music bcs Enji played it alot as well and it helps him focus while studying. OVERALL incredibly into music and could talk abt it for hours (you probably have listened to him rant abt music for 2 hrs straight before)
- is a failure in the kitchen no questions asked, he asked Fuyumi to teach him how to make soba once, 10 minutes in he starts scratching his head going "uh huhhh got it" (HE DOES NOT GET IT!!!!!)
- loves chemistry and math, don't ask why he just does also he gives off good at drawing without trying?? like he's a natural, all the art teachers adored him!!!!
- Shoto and Touya are so silly tg. Touya rolls his eyes and pouts, shoto copies his big brother even if he doesn't know what he's doingšŸ˜­šŸ˜­ Touya does something remotely cool and Shoto's looking up at Touya with sparkles in his eyes like "THATS MY BIG BROTHERRR!!!" while clapping (this is when shoto is a lot younger ofc not when he's 15ā€¼ļø he still adores his big brother at 15 tho)
- touya pretends he hates how close you and shoto are but the mf adores it and thinks it's adorable and sweet!!
- natsuo and touya are gossipers. Except Touya has all the dirt and Natsuo gasps while nodding his head, after all of that they RUN to Fuyumi who tells them "At the end of the day, we shouldn't talk about people." while sighing as if she isn't noting it down in her head to run and tell it to her bsf ā€¼ļø
- you can't tell me he's not putting his hand on his head whenever he's flirted with and going "WTF DO I DO!!" and if it's you (even if it's joking and through text) he's sitting on his bed giggling at 3 am and then panicking internally before acting nonchalant and texting "ew"
- he does get girls and guys tho, he's too pretty to not have bitches šŸ˜­ he just doesn't know what to do with the bitches ā€¼ļøā€¼ļø
- loves abandoned spots, he forces you to go with him even if ur scared while you're going "bro there's a ghost I'm telling you" he's like "what is it gonna do?? eat you??" While rolling his eyes or sumnšŸ˜­
- you best believe if he feels sumn though he's running for his life, like he could be on par with Iida bcs of how fucking scared he'd get he's shooting his fire behind him and RUNNING!! in the end it's probably a spider or sumn and he's like "pfff I knew that!!!"
- has some sort of rivalry with Keigo even if he didn't do anything ALSO you showing interest in keigo just makes the hate 10Ɨ more intense he tweaks the second he sees you looking at keigo.
- he swears up and down left and right that he hates roblox but he LIESSSS!! you could find him 3 am on dress to impress arguing w kids about emo vs goth cs mfs don't know the difference
- on the topic of roblox, you, shoto, and him probably play it once a week tg (shoto chooses the game 99% of the time)
- whenever he's anxious or sumn he just goes "cool yeah coolcoolcool" cool is the most overused word in his dictionary trust (he just kinda reminds me of jake Peralta in the vocabulary department..)
- makes sure shoto memorizes the lyrics to hot and cold by Katy perry just bcs it's funny to him (it's so stupid), there's a dance number and everything TRUST!!!
- 4 am in the morning, rei has walked in on touya on his knees doing the emo hand move thing while singing with a comb.
- HE TURNS THT SHIT OFF SOOOO FAST WHILE COUGHING AND COVERING HIS FACE
- rant to him all you want, he might not understand but he'd listen ā€¼ļøā€¼ļø (the second he hears of any mistreatment he tweaks)
- during the sports festival he's burned keigo's feathers multiple times (cough cough reference)
- sorry everyone but he IS one of those "Oh you like sws? name 5 songs." God forbid he sees a preppy nirvana t-shirt, he'd burn it in the store and run away
- he's actually pretty touchy when he's comfortable, like pinkies wrapped tg or hand around ur shoulder just has to have a hand on you at all times ā€¼ļøā€¼ļø
- overall awesome bsf, awesome brother, and would be an awesome bf!!
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okay I'm done now it's 2 am and i gotta sleep hope u like this anon !!! šŸ˜”šŸ˜” (soz for making this so long)
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just1cefor4ll Ā· 10 months ago
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I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^
Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters
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Ashlyn Banner
best person to have a lazy day with tbh
i swear yall would be like ā€œshould we go out todayā€ look at each other for 5 seconds and say ā€œnahā€
she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you arenā€™t flexible
probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words
she would be a bit awkward at first probably
also I donā€™t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, donā€™t go too hard on her
you let her play/stim with your fingers
youā€™re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that
doesnā€™t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe
if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you
if itā€™s your mother language then she would be like ā€œomg how was [your country] like!ā€
probably is a nerd in some sort of way
anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you arenā€™t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted
Taylor HernƔndez
this girl is such a cutie!!
would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..
drawing/picnic dates are a must
watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop
calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff
is very affectionate
cuddles !!
shes the little spoon probably but if youā€™re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon
you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you donā€™t know then thereā€™s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!
probably isnā€™t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on
the best partner to have if youā€™re insecure
makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat
overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D
Tyler HernƔndez
he is probably a tsundere tbh
acting like he doesnā€™t care but when you are alone he babies you sm
no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesnā€™t matter, he babies you no matter what
donā€™t let the others know tho
isnā€™t afraid to show you off like girl bffr
holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)
uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.
nicknames with him are endless
movie night is a must
probably would take you to his baseball practice
has a separate album for you only
everyone in the group can tell heā€™s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes
a jealous type probably
would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way
heā€™s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything
you gotta full on force him to tell you whatā€™s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally
a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much
Logan Fields
gardening dates!!
gives you flowers when youā€™re sad or just whenever to make your day!
stargazing dates
yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)
calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love
gives you honest opinions on everything
regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards
makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face
introduces you to his grandparents
they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o
hugs from behind!!
reads you a book when you canā€™t sleep
helps you with your work but doesnā€™t do it for you (Barron trauma)
best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice
gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao
if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten
loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you
heā€™s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D
Aiden Clark
be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day
and also getting him out of trouble every single day
he is a wild one for sure
doesnā€™t mean heā€™s a bad boyfriend
loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you
does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you
that tik tok kind of shi
while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao
yapps your ear of all day every day
not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!
best cuddle buddy
and hug buddy
if you donā€™t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it
loves it when you play with his hair
makes a playlist for you two
calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe
definitely has you saved as ā€œfuture wifešŸ¤­ā¤ļøā€ or ā€œthe mother of my kidsšŸ„µšŸ˜ā€
he be weird like that
loves to have you in his lap
idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..
only in private tho
honestly a pretty good boyfriend but heā€™s more of like your child then boyfriend
Ben Clark
a chill one for sure
hugs, holding hands are a must
listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode
jealousy scale is um pretty high
you gotta reassure this boy because heā€™s just scared of loosing you
would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to
whenever he gets angry, youā€™re there for him when Aiden canā€™t and he appreciates that
loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it
forehead kisses >>
probably doesnā€™t give you that many nicknames since he doesnā€™t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun
the best listener ever (not because he doesnā€™t speak)
when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder
very chill and overall good boyfriend
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wolfiesmoon Ā· 10 months ago
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Bakery
Leona x gn!reader
ok but can we feel the love tonight tho
i learned something new recently and i want to put this knowledge to good use (smirks evilly at leona)
also i am sick asf right now so i apologise if this is sloppily proofread
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It seems like being Leona's pillow has become a part of your daily at this point. It's become an unspoken routine for you.
Usually, he'd sleep anywhere but he had to adapt his sleeping habits a little because of you. Turns out most people don't find the floor of the greenhouse a comfortable napping spot.
Usually, the perfect spot is your room in Ramshackle dorm. It's quiet and empty, save for the pesky ghosts that interrupt the two of you sometimes. It makes for the perfect hiding place when Ruggie is bothering him with some stupid papers he needs to solve for potionology, too.
All in all, worth the walk to the dorm. Especially since he gets to see you and feel your warmth without fail.
You were already waiting for him on your bed, busying yourself with scrolling through your Magicam feed. Usually, you keep a few textbooks for studying with you, but exams have mostly concluded for now. You know once Leona attaches onto you, you're not going to be able to leave for atleast 2 hours, so it's always great to prepare in advance.
Sure enough, you heard familiar footsteps getting closer and the door opened to reveal your sleepy lover. His tail swished when he caught sight of you. What a lovely sight, indeed.
"Hey Leona, had a good day?" you ask casually and he sighs in response, mumbling something about being tired. Well, that's just the usual, isn't it?
He climbs up on the bed and you smile at his sleepy expression. He's so cute when he's sleepy, but you probably shouldn't tell him that unless you want to get glared at.
Instead of crashing on top of you like you're used to, though, he places his hands on your belly, still sitting at your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn't even meet your eyes.
Suddenly, his hands start moving in a kneading motion. A surprise massage? Not that you mind it, but that's highly unusual coming from Leona of all people. If anything, it should be the other way around.
"Leona..?" you question, trying to get a good look at his face. You can't really see it well because of the hair that fell to the side of his face. But from what little you can see, he seems to be in sort of a trance right now. His eyes are barely opened and he's wearing a little satisfied smile on his face. He doesn't respond to you at all.
"Leona?" you try again, a little firmer this time. He suddenly stops, probably finally coming back to his senses. You can see the way his eyes widen for a moment before he falls down on top of you without a word, wrapping his arms around you. Now you can't see his face at all, unable to read his expression.
"Leona, what was that?" you hugged him back, still a bit dumbfounded. You weren't going to lie though, that felt really nice.
"Don't ever bring this up again." Leona did not seem in the mood to discuss what just happened any further. He could have sworn he left that behaviour behind as a toddler. How embarrasing.
He's kind of worried now. That's how much you affect him.
"Oh... uh, okay." you pet the back of his head lovingly. Hmmm... now that you think of it, Grim does the same thing sometimes. The common denominator with Grim and Leona is that they're both cats, atleast somewhat.
If you apply this knowledge to what you know about cats in general... Oh, Leona, that silly goose. Seems he's a bit embarrased about kneading on you. You wonder if it was pure instinct.
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yep, turns out the big kitties knead too, ain't that just a testament to the tried and true saying "cat is cat"
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linksqueerawakening Ā· 8 months ago
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Miscellaneous LU Headcanons
Four doesn't cast a shadow. when questioned, they flatly state "it died" and refuse to elaborate. if pushed on the matter, they become more and more irritated, while still refusing to elaborate
Time always knows what time it is. you could wake him up in the middle of the night and before he's even fully opened his eyes he could tell you the time without having to even think about it
Hyrule has the most magic, but Legend knows the most magical theory, followed closely by Time
Warriors, Legend, and Four are the only members of the chain who are actually legit monarchists. like the others are pretty much neutral on the concept (tho Wild doesn't like how flora was treated with all the expectations and lack of freedom, but that's another matter entirely than being of the opinion that monarchy is inherently bad), they're fine with monarchy. they just don't have strong opinions one way or another, so long as the current holder of power isn't corrupt. meanwhile Four Legend and Warriors would probably fight you if you insinuated that hyrule's monarchy should be abolished
Legend and Fable are twins but it's a secret. and also due to Fable getting kidnapped and transformed in various worlds in some of their adventures, they're no longer the same age; Legend is 19, she's 16 or 17. they still look very similar so they used the excuse that they're cousins on their father's side
Legend used to want to be a knight very very badly when he grew up, because his uncle who raised him was a knight. the knights who were controlled and attacked him during Link to the Past were pretty much all trusted adults that he knew and admired. he stopped wanting to be a knight after that
Wild may be the best cook when they have good ingredients, but when the chain is down to the wire and they need to make every little bit count? Hyrules horrible concoctions are actually the best option. he can't make it taste good but he can make it keep you alive when there are no other options
Wind is the best at navigating without a map or compass due to his experiences on ships - he would rather have the tools, but he's pretty damn good at managing without
Four has a habit of referring to themselves with "we/us" pronouns ever since they were split and then reformed with the four sword. the other heroes don't know why, but sort of shrugged and started using "they/them" pronouns bc it seemed polite. Four is mostly unaware that they do this - green picked up on it but hasn't pointed it out to the rest of four bc he knows it'll make them stress, and it clearly hasn't caused any issues
Twilight is disarmingly charismatic but only when he's not trying. if he's talking to someone casually or even somewhat irritably, they tend to be completely taken by him, but if he's actively trying to be smooth it just comes across as awkward
Sky is the most mild mannered person you've ever met until you cross certain lines, at which point it's like a switch flips and he's so pissed that even the other heroes hesitate to deal with him
Discounting the hundred years in which Wild was unconscious, Warriors had the longest single adventure, with the war of eras lasting about 7 years. Legend's six adventures altogether may have lasted longer, but they were split up into multiple parts, not one long quest
Wild takes pictures of pretty much everything they can to show Flora whenever they're back home, because they know how much she wants to learn about the ancient past, like their species, their societies, and their magic
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