#he knew so early on that there was just no way they would be able to compete with rbr

[power-handmaiden]

Chuck Tingle interview

OK, here is the FINAL 2024 Tingles My Butt post, which I've been pretty hyped for. I still kind of can't believe this. While I was figuring out how I'd move on from 2024, @drchucktingle generously offered to answer some questions of mine to commemorate the end of my tingler project! Here they are!

-Considering that your process for tinglers is just to write it out and not stress about proofreading and editing, was it weird for you to see someone decide to go back, examine, and contemplate every single tingler published in the past decade?

the whole dang project was really wonderful for me, for exactly the reason you have just said. tinglers are very STREAM OF CONSCIOUS and only edited with one quick pass so while i think this adds to their honesty and rawness it also means that my time with them is limited. really watching someone go back through them at this depth was like reading a diary that i have not opened for many years, and it jumps around through time in a very beautiful way. it was very moving

-I love tingler character names. I personally admire how many great ones you come up with. (I never know what to name my ttrpg characters.) You just come up with all these great names that seemingly spring from nowhere, how do you do it?

DANG great question cant believe i have not been asked this before but yes there is a type of name that shows up in the tingleverse that is unusual and has a certain feeling and cadence that is very specific. if i am trotting along with sweet barbara and there is a name of a product or a place or something that has this tone we will say ‘oh thats a tingleverse name.’ the reason i wanted to do this in the books was as a very subtle way of saying these stories exist on a timeline that is RIGHT next to ours, so in some ways it is exactly the same as our world but there are these little cultural differences with things like chocolate milk and spaghetti and then with the names. you will have buckaroos like justin and sarah trotting along next to buckaroos named corb torbins-quill or borto lart.

-So, as a reader, reading from 2014 to now, old tinglers and new tinglers feel different to me. I believe you when you say tinglers have always been sincere, but they feel MORE sincere than they used to be. Like, I feel like there was some self-consciousness and irony in some of the early tinglers that you've since let go of and embraced the Chuck Tingle voice more. I don't know, am I imagining this, or does this square with your tingler writing journey? If it does, what has that process been like for you?

i think you are absolutely correct. the intention with tinglers was always to be a place for me to express myself with complete sincerity, but the practical way of HOW to trot like this took a bit of an evolution to arrive at. in other words i knew the basics, but actually refining the best way to express yourself and perform your art takes time. maybe in the same way goin back and watching season one of a tv show can feel very different from season three, even though they are part of the same expression. 

similar thing happened with in my chuck PRESENTATION as well, where my main focus was to stay anonymous so the metaphors i used to talk about my life were still true but laid on much thicker. even my attire was a large gi so that you would not even be able to see my shape, which has obviously changed now because i wear suits these days. all of this was a process of starting in a place i knew was important to me and then peeling off the parts that were not helping the message or expression over time

-Is there anything you could tell us about the significance of Borson Reems? I feel like he's more than just another Buck Trungle/Chuck Tangle/etc but I'm not sure what exactly...

yes borson reems is god. not that i believe in GOD in the way that most buckaroos talk about god (i am agnostic) but within the tingleverse, borson reems is an avatar for the creator of that world. technically i am borson reems, because i am writing the books. the question is: are we all the gods of our own little worlds that we create? i do not know, but when i look around at my buds and the joy and love they bring to various timelines they sure seem like gods to me

-A lot of no-sex tinglers (especially ones that aren't romance-focused) vary in terms of plot and structure a lot more than erotic tinglers. Is your writing process for these stories any different?

same process actually, but the sex scenes in tinglers are about 1500 to 2000 words long, and total tingler length is 4000 words which means if you are not including that portion you are going to have to come up with some creative way to fill that space in the story and a new axis for story to turn on. so the variety comes from me getting creative and trying out different axis points

-In "Not Pounded By My Book "Pounded In The Butt By My Non-Fungible Tingler That Is Literally This NFT" Because Of The Current Catastrophic Environmental And Ethical Impact" there are references to an earlier draft of the story that was never released because you ended up disagreeing with the message. Are there any other tinglers that never got finished and/or published, if you'd be willing to talk about any of them?

oh this is a VERY good question. the story of the NFT tingler is that when buckaroos were first talkin on nfts online and nobody really knew what they were, my first thoughts were just ‘oh this is interesting what the heck is this?’ this is my way with most CURRENT EVENTS. and i thought ‘this would be an interesting tingler, i suppose maybe i should make the tingler an ACTUAL nft’. this was in VERY early days so i did not really even understand what an nft was (neither did 99 percent of buckaroos yet honestly). so i looked into it just enough to actually MAKE a nft tingler that was a real nft and put it out. lasted for about thirty seconds before buckaroos were messaging saying ‘oh this is bad chuck you should look into what this is’ and i DID look into it and thought’ oh yeah this is terrible nevermind’. i took down the original and thought ‘well THIS is what art is all about. this is where i thrive in a world of moving living art that is in communication with itself’. so i dove into the research and actually started to understand NFTS and then i repurposed the story into a strongly anti-nft tingler and put that on out instead.

as far as OTHER tinglers that kind of move and breathe and live like this, in communication with the audience, GAY T-REX LAW FIRM is another very good example. that one i wrote early on and i think it was kind of in the model of something like fifty shade of grey, where issues of kink and consent and communication are not really handled well. i think at the time it came out the story was okay, but as time went on it always kind of bothered me and finally i thought ‘i love art that exists in the REAL WORLD and changes and evolves, so lets rewrite that story and fix some of these mistakes.’ honestly it is something i wish more artists would be open to. its okay to let something hold strong against a changing timeline, but it is also okay to explore what its like to take the notes that time gives us

-This one is about Chuck Tingle that exists in deeper layers of the Tingleverse that operate on tingler logic: what does the location inside his/your butt look like?

probably a nice mid-century modern home up in laurel canyon neighborhood of los angeles. kind of quiet and small like a cabin but also very cozy, like the kind of place where you would put on a crosby stills nash and young record on vinyl and gaze out into the woods for a while then walk down the hill for dinner at a little cafe where you spot some actor from a 60s tv show also having dinner in the corner booth. this basically sounds like the start of a tingler and in that tingler i will say the actor would be a bigfoot.

-OK this one is very self-indulgent but if you could help settle this frequent point of discussion I have with my wife- where do the following fit in the Tingleverse bigfoot/dinosaur/unicorn/living object(/human/does not apply?) taxonomy?

-a ghost of a regular human

-a regular human vampire

-a human/fish mermaid

-a sentient winged horse

-a sentient centipede large enough to wrap around a mountain several times (she is handsome)

alright lets trot through these. a GHOST is not one of the four tingle types so you can have a ghost racecar or a ghost unicorn or a ghost bigfoot. ghosts are outside of the four types and do not have a classification

a VAMPIRE is also outside of the four types. so you can have a vampire bigfoot or, of course, a vampire night bus. does not strictly fall into any of the four main categories

MERMAIDS are technically a long lost species of unicorn I DONT MAKE THE RULES I JUST EXPLAIN THEM. this makes the MERMOPED tingler a little confusing but i had to pick a category and that one went into living object. now that i mention it possibly the only tingler that is technically a double category of unicorn/living object.

WINGED HORSE is easy, thats a pegasus which is a species of unicorn just like a mermaid

a SENTIENT CENTIPEDE LARGE ENOUGH TO WRAP AROUND A MOUNTAIN is an ancient creature, therefore dinosaur tingler

-My other self-indulgent question: do you have a favorite bug? (Or second-favorite if you count Mothman as a bug)

i love finding spiders in the house and giving them a pet because they are doing a good job livin their lives doin their thing. close second would be a pretty ladybug

-Any thoughts on what tinglers will be like in 2025? Do you expect to be writing a lot of political tinglers again, like post-2016?

honestly i really do not like writing specifically political tinglers anymore, and the amount that i write has gradually dropped over time (i think ALL tinglers are political but in a different way). so honestly i think i will write a few political tinglers but not many. my hypothesis on this is that my HORROR NOVELS are very very political and so maybe i get a lot of these ideas out of my system that way now. when it comes to tinglers i just wanna explore my OWN mind and heart and butt more

THANK YOU for these wonderful questions and thank you for your tingler-a-day project it was so moving and powerful. what a treat it was an honor to be a part of something so beautiful. THIS PROVES LOVE IS REAL

[whatifitis]

♡ i wish you would've stayed - LN 4 ♡

Summary: you and lando had a fling and things end but did he lie? he found someone new when he said he wasn't ready.

WC: 2636

CW: angst, very small mention of weight loss, overuse of song lyrics, use of quotes i found on tiktok

How can it be that everytime someone says they aren’t ready for a relationship with you, they always end up ready for the girl after? 

You and Lando had been friends for a couple of months before you ended up developing feelings for him. Like, who wouldn’t fall for him? He’s funny, cute, and charming. You guys would talk for hours on end. Everytime you two would find something in common, it felt like the invisible string between the two of you was real. Maybe all these things were signs that you had finally met your person. 

When you were able to talk to him, it felt like everything was okay. When it felt like no one wanted you around, he did. It didn’t matter if you just had a hellish day or not, he was always able to bring you back to joy and contentness in a second. He showed you how it felt to be loved, for the first time in your life. 

When you’d confessed to him about your feelings for him, he’d said he liked you as well. You remember nearly bursting into tears as giddiness swirled in your chest. This was the first time your feelings had been well received, and it was someone who you had really grown fond of. He didn’t want to be anything yet so as to not feel pressured so early in this relationship and you understood, you were fine with it. The two of you often joked about what to call your situation as neither of you liked the term ‘situationship’ and ‘casual’ definitely wasn’t it. It was just two people who really liked each other and wanted to see how things went.

Everyday, the two of you spoke for hours at a time and it was fun. You’d shared music with each other and you’d actually grown to enjoy music from his favorite artist. When you asked him to make a playlist of all his favorite songs by the artist, he was genuinely so excited and got to work instantly. You loved seeing him so happy and you’re glad it was because of you, selfishly so. When he’d sent you the playlist, he’d named it one of the verses from a song that you had sort of dedicated to him. You really fell hard for him. 

Even though it had just been a month or so, you were excited to picture a life with him. The two of you had even planned out your future home together. The colors of the walls of every room had already been picked out and it was the happiest you had been in a long time. 

“We’re gonna have a house by the beach, yeah? And we’re gonna have a dog that’s practically our baby. And we’re gonna name it ‘Lando’.”

“Lan, why are we naming it after you?” you softly laughed. 

“Well, when I was a kid, my family had gotten a dog and it was my job to name it. As the uncreative child I was, I named it after the best thing ever. Myself.” he smiled cheekily.

“No way. Oh my god.” you couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Hold on. I’m not done painting the scene.”

“Alright, apologies, my love. Please continue.” 

“So our dog, Lando, will lie in the sheets with us. The sun will always shine and there will be a ring on your hand. On your ring finger specifically. And I’ll hold you every night.”

But he lied. He made a promise he could never keep. He tried and tried until he couldn’t. 

As time went by, his texts began to slow down. But you weren’t upset. When the two of you began this whirlwind of a relationship, he’d mentioned how with work and his mental health, he’d often go days without having the energy to talk to anyone. You understood, you’d been there before, you told him as long as he would talk to you whenever he was able, that you were going to be okay. And you were. Your days would go by where you wouldn’t get a text from him and it was okay. You were productive during the days and while you did miss him, you knew his struggles and you let him be with the occasional messages to check on him. 

Then one Thursday in the fall, your world came crashing down. You sort of knew it was coming. There were signs that you chose to ignore, hoping it wasn’t true. But then you got the text “I don’t think we should talk anymore.” You really tried to understand. He said he felt guilty for dragging you along and that he didn’t want to keep doing it to you. He said he was tired and he wasn’t able to maintain a relationship of any sort. So you said ok. That was the last time the two of you spoke. 

For weeks, you cried over this loss. It wasn’t just about essentially getting dumped. To you, he was your best friend and you lost him. That was the worst part. Not the fact that you didn’t have anyone to love anymore. Not that he just up and left. It was the fact that he was your friend before everything and you don’t have any part of him now. 

You knew you had some fault in the ending though. You’d said things that weren’t the right things to say at the time. You had messed up often. You just wish you could take those back though. You wish you could’ve said something different. Then maybe he’d still be yours. 

You told your friends what happened and it’s safe to say they all dislike him now. After everything, they started stating their opinions and talked shit about him but it didn’t help. You didn’t hate him, although you should have. You wished you could hate him and be angry, but you’re not. You’re just sad. 

Everything reminds you of him. Every song is about him. Every poem is about him. Every book is about him. The blue in the water is him. The sun shining through your window is him. His face is everywhere. His voice is everywhere. His laugh is everywhere. The laugh you thought you would get to listen to for forever, is now a stranger. 

You would find yourself still imagining things with him after the end of everything. You’d think of him in the stupidest things. You’d think of him while in the shower, how it’d be nice to have your things with his sitting along the edge of the tub. You would even imagine running out of soap so you would end up using his. You would go to work and the store wearing it. Only when in the night, when you would lay next to him in bed, would you smell where all your missing soap had gone. 

It was those stupid little things that made the healing process so much harder. 

He forgot you overnight. Meanwhile you lost your head and appetite. You ate a lot like a fly. Your anxiety had also gotten worse, making your heart race every second of the day. You thought of giving up everything. It was a dramatic thing to consider considering you couldn’t even classify what happened as a breakup, as he was never yours. 

After some time, the tears stopped. The heartbreak didn’t, but you were able to continue with your life and get through some days. Every so often, you still check on him through social media, just to make sure he’s okay. Of course, that came back to bite you in the ass when you found out he was talking to someone. 

The day you found it, your heart dropped and it felt like that Thursday all over again. All that healing had gone out the window because now everything feels like a lie. Was he making fun of you with some esoteric joke? 

He said he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he couldn’t maintain any relationship. He said he cared about you. You believed it. You were stupid to believe it. A fool for thinking any of it was real. The house, the songs, every little thing was a lie. All you ever thought about was there the hell he was and if he was okay but he didn’t give two shits about you. There was never a you and him. And there never would be. 

You go back and forth between being angry and sad. You can’t tell if you’re making everything up in your head whether it was your relationship with him or the events after. 

Every page you wrote, he was on it. Every word you wish you could say to him. 

After letting you sulk for a few months, your friends dragged you out of the house so you could all go to a club and just have fun. There was no pressure to meet someone or walk away with someone. They said that all you owed them was to show up and have fun. So you went. 

The night was beautiful at first. After pregaming a bit, you ordered yourself a drink at the club and just let loose with your girls. Dancing the night away and not caring about tomorrow. All that mattered was right now. 

You could feel arms moving around you, your heart beating to the music, the alcohol working its magic through your system. You were glad to be there with your favorite people, when everything felt like it was falling away, you still had them. 

It was truly an amazing night until there were whispers spread across the room. Lando was there, with his new girl. The two walked hand in hand towards the back corner of the club with their group. 

What the fuck was he doing here? He could be anywhere in the world, why is he here? 

You didn’t know what to do. For the longest time, you’d imagined what you would do if you were to be in the same room as him again. You composed a hundred ways to tell him the reasons why you could’ve played for keeps, all of which would sit collecting dust, rotting in your house. 

You watched as they settled into the rhythm of the club, when Lando looked straight at you. He looked different. He looked lighter. 

Your friends caught this moment and immediately grabbed you and tried to get you to ignore them. They wanted you to show Lando that you’re better off without him, that you’re okay. So you tried. You tried to keep dancing, to keep your heavy feet moving, to act as if your heart wasn’t being dragged through you. 

You needed a minute. Telling one of your friends you were going to the restroom, you pushed through the crowd. Squeezing through a mess of entangled, sweaty bodies. You kept pushing until you found yourself on a balcony, trying to catch your breath. You moved to a more secluded spot so you could try and recuperate. 

Resting your arms on the railings, you lowered your head to try and figure out what to do. Did you want to confront him, ask for closure? Or did you just want to let it go and try to be free? 

You were caught up in your head when you heard someone clearing their throat somewhere behind you. Looking up, you were met with those hazel green eyes that you had fallen for all those months ago. 

“Hey,” Lando started “didn’t know you were here. Small world, eh?”

“Yeah. Crazy.”

“Come on. Why you being short with me?”

“Nothing. So, uh. Who’s the girl?”

“Oh, yeah. Hannah is my girlfriend. She’s pretty great.”

“Good for you. I’m glad you found someone who can love you the way you deserve. We all need someone to hold and now you found your person.” “Thanks. She helps me a lot and she knows how it feels to be alone in the rain. I guess I just needed someone to stay.” he shrugged, smiling at you. He wasn’t trying to be malicious, he was just happy that he’d found his love.

I stayed. 

“She seems great. I’m happy for you.”

Please, keep me close. 

“Yeah. You’ll find someone too. I’m sure you will.” Couldn’t you love me most?

“Yeah. Sure.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, savoring the silence for different reasons. You knew this was gonna be the end of your story with him. This was going to be the last time you would see him. He thought it was great that everything could remain civil. 

“Well, I gotta go back in.” he said, pointing behind him towards the dance floor, “I’ll see you around. Take care.”

“You too!” you shouted back before he disappeared into the blinking lights and mess of music. 

At the end of the day, you’re hopeless. He found someone better. He found someone to love. Someone to love him. 

So here you sit in the bedroom of your apartment, just missing him and wishing things were different. And you can wish all that you want, but it won’t bring you two together. No matter the things he said or did, you still loved him. 

After all this time, you would still bend back to him if he left the door open. All he had to do was say the words, and you’d play again. But who were you to ask for more? You were just a little chapter in his story while he was more to you. 

If he needed someone, he could’ve picked you. You would’ve given him everything. All he had to do was ask. And you know that can’t solve everything. You just wish he chose you. For once, you wish you had been chosen. You wish he had chosen to love you. You wish he chose you even if it was just to toy with you for longer. 

You still can’t hate him. You honestly wish the best for him. You want him to be happy, even if it means it’s not with you. You want him to have the life he’s dreamed of, with the walls of his house painted blue, red and pink. You hope he gets to go to the city his favorite artist was born in and have a drink at the bar they used to perform at. You hope he’s okay. 

You now know, you’re just not that girl. It was your own fault for not being good enough. She won him, the girl with the gold hair. That’s the girl he chose. So one day, when he walks down the aisle to complete his great love story, you hope he remembers that you’re glad to see him win. You can’t claim to be on the side of love if you can’t even support it in someone you love. It’s not fair to him. 

Your birthday falls on the 29th night of December and you stand in the middle of your kitchen surrounded by your family who say they love you. A birthday cake sits in front of you, coffee flavored, a flavor you never liked. Everyone sings you a happy birthday as you stand there, not letting the tears fall from your face. No one can see the ache in your heart and the way it feels like it’s being dragged down your body. So you just smile. 

You close your eyes to make a wish, but no wish appears as you blow out the candles, just the thought ‘Only three more days left living in a year where you loved me. Only a few more days left in a year where I've allowed myself to love you knowing you don’t’.

Wishing only wounds the heart, after all.

[yoonjae20]

5 Times people outside of the immediate Batfamily find out that B is married and the one time the world meets his husband [Bruce/Danny; Spirit Halloween]

Surprise, surprise! Due to immense positive reaction to the last Spirit Halloween Oneshot, I wrote another Oneshot interconnecting with the previous one. As you can see per the title it's a 5+1 Oneshot! Inspired by PaperPuffin's "Batman's Husband" over on ao3.

Read on ao3. Masterpost.

Previous.

1.

Barbara stretches her arms above her head and winces at the pop her joints make. It’s well into the early hours of the next day and it has been a long night – there had been an Arkham outbreak which needed all hands on the deck. After 5 stressful hours every Rogue was captured and back behind bars – all that remained were the reports they needed to fill out.

“I’ll head off for the night, I want to get at least a little bit of sleep before I have to go open the library,” Barbara announces over the comm.

“Thank you for your help today, Oracle,” Bruce grunts and Barbara is about to put down her headset when she hears paper getting shuffled around before the distinct sound of ceramic being settled down echoes through the comm.

“Thank you dear,” Bruce’s voice is surprisingly soft and Barbara wonders who brought the man tea – Cass perhaps? There’s some incomprehensible murmurs before Bruce hums thoughtfully. “I’ll probably be done in about 20 minutes or so – just need to finish this report. You can go ahead to bed – I’ll follow you in a bit.” Some more unclear mumbles, but distinctly male before Bruce snorts. Then there is the distinct sound of lips meeting each other. “Good Night, I love you.”

Barbara feels like she intruded on a very intimate moment and she quickly logs out of the comm system before she bursts the bubble Bruce seems to have settled in. 

She places her headset next to her keyboard before rolling backwards and only then she lets out the squeal she had been holding in. Since when has B been in a committed relationship? She’s so gonna milk Cass for the details – she needs to know everything. 

2.

“Where’s Bruce?” Steph asks as she meets the rest of the Batfamily in the manor for movie night.

Normally the man never skipped out on those unless on an out of world mission.

“On a date,” Tim says absentmindedly as he scrolls through their selection.

Steph’s face scrunches up.

“As in Brucie?”

Jason snorts.

“Actually no,” he says. “Do you remember Bruce’s ring?”

“Yes?” Steph answers, uncertain where Jason is going with this.

“Yeah, apparently he’s married.”

“Wait, what?” Steph doesn’t believe her ears. Bruce Wayne? As in - brooding, stoic Bruce Wayne, who goes out at night in a Furry Costume to fight crime? “For how long?”

Jason turns to Tim who startles with all the attention on him. 

“26 years,” Tim states and Steph almost chokes on her spit. 

“No way.” Steph shakes her head. “That would mean he’s been married since well before like either of us all knew him!”

“Believe me, we were also quite shocked,” Jason mutters, before adding something under his breath. “Should have known that even his taste in men is quite peculiar.” 

Tim starts their movie, but Steph can’t focus for a single second. What the hell is ‘peculiar’ supposed to mean? 

3.

Lois opens the door to see Bruce standing before it – along with a gift bag where a bottle of champagne is peeking out of it.

“Bruce!” Lois greets him warmly. “I’m glad you were able to make it!”

The man grunts before handing her the gift bag and following her into the house.

“Clark is doing a little errand, but he’ll be here soon enough.”

Bruce just nods and Lois settles down the gift bag on her kitchen counter, pulling the champagne bottle out. Her and Clark are celebrating their 15th wedding anniversary and the latter had wanted to invite Bruce to a simple, quiet dinner in their house in Smallville. 

“Where are the boys?” the man questions when he sees that their table is only set for three people.

“Jon said he had a hang-over with Damian and Kon is on a mission with the Teen Titans.”

Bruce hums and soon Clark arrives back from his errand and they sit down at the dinner table.

In the middle of the meal, Clark opens the Champagne bottle with a loud pop before filling three glasses. Clark raises his own glass as he clears his throat.

“To another 15 years!”

Lois echoes the sentiment while Bruce nods stoically. 

Their glasses clink as they toast to each other and then they finish their meal. Bruce still sips on his first glass of champagne when Clark broaches the topic.

“This would have been even better if you also had someone at your side, Bruce,” the man says. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

Bruce raises an eyebrow and Clark coughs at the man’s deadpan expression.

“Just imagine if we could have celebrated your 15th anniversary too!” the man tries to save the conversation and Lois snorts at her husband fumbling. 

“What Clark wants to say is that we wish for your happiness and that we sometimes wonder if a partner would achieve that,” Lois helps out and Clark shoots her a relieved smile. “We've never really seen you date anyone – and those headlines about ‘Brucie Wayne’ don’t count, you know?”

“That might be because my 27th wedding anniversary is coming up,” Bruce says as if he is talking about the weather.

Clark sputters while Lois’ eyes widen. 

Bruce raises his right hand and Lois’ eyes focus on the ring on his ring finger – it only now really registering for Lois. It had almost become invisible over the years. Bruce’s lips twitch into a faint smirk.

“Or do you guys think of this as decoration?”

Lois' eyes twinkle as she suddenly pulls out her notepad. 

“Tell me everything.”

4.

A knock on his window makes Jim pause in his reading. The world outside is dark and Jim groans when he sees the time displayed in the corner of his screen. 03:57 am. He had been supposed to be home more than a few hours ago to eat dinner with his daughter.

His joints creak when he stands up from his seat — walking over to the window. He’s not surprised to find a looming shadow lingering behind it — quickly letting Batman in.

The man enters, landing softly and without a sound before he hands him a file. Jim purses through it — quickly recognizing it to be one of his recent murder cases.

“Red Robin made a breakthrough,” Batman explains gruffly. “He wanted you to receive this as quickly as possible.”

Jim nods before settling the file on his desk, before sinking back into his chair.

“I hope you are not planning on going back on patrol.” Jim rubs his tired eyes as he shuts down his computer. “While you may be a Cryptid, even you need your sleep.”

Batman’s soft snort surprises James.

“Actually I wasn’t,” the man claims. “My partner was very adamant about the fact that I would deliver this file and then go straight back to the Cave no matter what happens.”

Jim pauses. ‘My partner.’ The way the Batman had said it so casually surprises Jim. 

He barks out a laugh.

“Good that there’s someone other than Agent A looking out for you then,” he teases as he watches the computer turn black. “You need it.”

Batman huffs out a breath and that’s as good as a laugh for the man than anything. 

“Update me on the case,” the man says in lieu of a goodbye before disappearing out of the room with a swish of his cape.

Jim leans back in his seat, snorting. He never expected anyone to tame the Dark Knight — but apparently even the impossible is possible. 

5: Wayne Enterprises staff 

The Board Meeting dragged on. It was one of those rare times that Bruce actually attended them - normally he left those to Tim, but the boy hadn’t had time this time.

Once again Lucius applauds Bruce’s ability to stay patient even when Tiffany from HR drones on about unnecessary gossip — only smiling politely and nodding once here and then. 

They had gone over the new developments and their future goals already and were well into their allotted one hour time slot. Most of them knew by now that these meetings often overrun and could go well up to two hours if no one (most of the time either Tim or his assistant) cut it short.

Normally Bruce is well versed in being the picture perfect CEO - kind and never once complaining. However this time Lucius notices the man glancing at both the clock opposite to him and his watch that he is wearing multiple times as they near the one hour mark. Lucius can even hear the man audibly grit his teeth and his left eye twitching once Tiffany goes on another tirade.

It’s 10 minutes past their allotted time slot that Bruce seems to have enough — he cuts off Tiffany's rant about one of their engineers with a firm, “Well if that’s everything — I have to get going. My partner and I are celebrating our anniversary.”

Then he promptly leaves the room after dropping that bombshell. Not a millisecond later when the door closes the room erupts in hushed whispers. Lucius doesn’t doubt that by the end the entire building will know about the man’s “mysterious” partner. Lucius quietly schedules a press conference for the next day.

+1

The media gets wind of it by the next day — because of course they do. Each headline is more extreme than the next and Danny has fun teasing Bruce by reading each one out. 

The interview Lois had forced Bruce and Danny into would probably go up either tomorrow or today now that the cat was out of the bag so to speak, but he probably would still need to address the general public in the press conference. Bruce silently thanks Lucius for his foresightedness in scheduling a press conference for today – Bruce had been tired yesterday, the exhaustion loosening his lips. While he didn’t want to hide away Danny now that he was back, he had wished for more time to announce it on his own terms. 

Bruce stands in front of the mirror as he adjusts his tie and Danny stands behind him, chin on his shoulder and arms around his waist. 

“You’ll do fine,” Danny cheers up Bruce. “Just deflect to the fact that an exclusive interview is going up soon and keep it short and simple.”

“You are not one who has to address them,” Bruce grumbles. 

“Do you want me to?” Danny’s voice is uncharacteristically serious. 

Bruce turns to see the man instead of looking at him through the mirror. Danny runs a hand through Bruce’s styled hair before settling it on the man’s cheek. A finger brushes Bruce's lips before Danny pulls him in for a soft kiss.

“You know I would do everything for you, darling.”

Bruce huffs out a fond breath and settles his forehead against Danny’s.

“I know,” he confirms, before linking their hands. “Together?”

“Together,” Danny affirms with a grin. 

Danny changes into a nice dark blue suit – complementary to Bruce’s blue tie and together they step on the stage to address the news. Both of them smile as they wave at the flashes of the cameras.

“Hello Gotham,” Bruce greets. “This is my husband – Danny.”

[burningembers91]

A Voice Like Honey - Kang Dae-Ho x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Kang Dae-Ho doesn’t want to follow in his father’s footsteps. After running from the life his father had planned for him, he meets you. But he can’t seem to find the words to tell you how he feels

Kang Dae-Ho had always been more of a lover than a fighter. He’d never enjoyed playing Call of Duty or watching violent movies like his friends did. He always steered clear of the fights that broke out in school, or the rough games kids played in the schoolyard. He was scared of pretty much everything - the dark, snakes, spiders, the feeling of going upstairs and thinking someone or something is chasing after you. Dae-Ho would rather sit and daydream all day, and spent many a day dreaming about the life he’d lead one day. he was a talented musician, able to play any song after hearing it only once. His voice was like soft, warm caramel, and he was never short of girls hanging onto his every lyric.

But the life of an artist wasn’t the life his dad had in mind for him. He was a proud army veteran and had served his country for many years, just as his father had, and his father before him. Dae-Ho was the only son he had, and his father expected, or rather insisted that Dae-Ho follow in his father’s footsteps. A musician was no life for his son, and it would be the greatest dishonour to be made a fool of.

So Dae-Ho enlisted for his mandatory service in the military as soon as he left school. He thought that’s what his father wanted. He figured that after he’d served his duty to his country, he’d be free to pursue music. Dae-Ho hated his time in the military. The sound of gunfire terrified him, the late nights and early mornings, the extreme physical toughness almost broke him. But he father expected more, expected him to carry on once his mandatory service was over. Every day he would press leaflets and phone numbers into his son’s hands, send him advertisements for open days with the army and marines. Dae-Ho had never been able to stand up to his tyrant of a father, so he begrudgingly attended an interview with the marines. He was cleared for basic training, and his father was over the moon. But Dae-Ho couldn’t do it. The thought of returning to a place that still gave him nightmares was more than he could take. Instead of enlisting, Dae-Ho packed his bag and ran. He had money saved up, and he wanted to see the world.

He started in America, then moved to Europe, staying over in hostels and motels. He made lifelong friends, played his music in pubs and bars in tiny towns and villages. He grew his hair, tattooed his body, did everything he knew his father would disapprove of. When his money began to dwindle, he returned to Seoul, taking up a job in a bar that allowed him to sing a few nights a week. It didn’t make him much money, but it made him happy.

The bar was where he met you, another fellow songwriter with a voice like honey. He got lost in your words, your voice carrying him on a wave of emotion he’d never felt before. You sang together a few times, your voices in perfect harmony as your double act packed out the bar.

Dae-Ho had been with his fair share of women while travelling, but none of them made him feel like you did. He was like a nervous schoolboy around you, tripping over his words. But when the two of you sang, it was like you were made for each other. Each night, he tried to gather the courage to ask you out. He would walk you to your apartment, but could never seem to find the words to express his feelings.

You were perfect in every way, but Dae-Ho had always been a coward. He was too scared to tell his dad why he ran away, and he was too scared to tell you how he felt. He hadn’t spoken to his family in 18 months, too terrified to face them after disappointing them so badly. So he spent his nights at the bar, singing and serving drinks, and watching the woman with the voice of an angel, wondering when he’d be brave enough to bare his soul to her.

[futureperfectchanges]

The Woolly Socks: Part 2 - Dan

As Dan crept out of the bedroom he wondered if moving in with Chris had been a mistake. For the third night in a row he had woken up cold in the middle of the night with the covers pushed off the bed. He knew Chris didn't do it deliberately and it was just his boyfriend instinctively trying to keep his furry muscular body cool, but it had happened enough times now that it was no longer amusing to Dan whose slim toned physique struggled to stay warm. Dan had tried going back to sleep but wasn't able to get comfortable so decided to do some reading in the living room. Chris would be getting up soon for his gym session so he would try and get a bit more sleep after Chris had gone.

The couple's differing routines were another issue with the relationship. Chris had a group of gym buddies that would work out in the early in the morning, whereas Dan never went to the gym as he instead did training with his running club after work. Before moving in together they had often gone out of their way to spend time with each other, but now they seemed to have got into a domestic rut where they actually spent less time together.

As Dan moved into the living room he shivered a bit and couldn't help thinking about how their different preferences for the heating in the apartment was another issue. Even in the middle of winter Chris would often walk around with barely anything on, whereas Dan would always be wearing at least one thick jumper. Dan didn't mind getting to see so much of his boyfriend, and he liked having easy access to rub his hands through the hair on Chris's chest, but he had started to worry about how different their lives seemed to be. Dan worried that they just didn't have enough in common and moving in together had made that painfully clear.

Dan had picked up some clothes from the bedroom before leaving, but in the dark he hadn't been able to find his socks. As he walked barefoot on the cold floor he wondered if he could cope without socks, but he quickly decided that he'd have to go back for them, which was when he noticed the white socks on the floor by the laundry. Chris had mentioned the previous night that he had bought a pair of socks but had found them too hot. As Dan walked over to them they did seem a bit thicker than the thin socks that Chris normally bought. Dan wasn't complaining though as they seemed like they would be perfect for keeping his feet warm until Chris got up.

After putting the socks on Dan was surprised by how warm they were. He felt a warmth creeping up from his feet but was unaware that warmth was due to thick hairs growing in all over his legs. Dan also didn't notice as his legs, that had been toned from countless miles of running, started getting more defined as they thickened up with muscle. Instead Dan started to think about the effort he had been putting into leg day at the gym, in particular growing his calf muscles despite all his buddies saying that muscle was mostly defined by genetics.

The warmth Dan was feeling quickly travelled up into his chest. He didn't notice as hairs burst out all over his stomach and then across his chest, he also didn't notice as his flat chest quickly swelled up with muscle whilst his shoulders widened out and his arms expanded to match. Instead the burning he had felt in those areas made sense to Dan as he was in the middle of his winter bulk, and was really pushing himself each session. Chris had recently made some gains in the gym, but Dan had always had the slightly bigger body and he wanted to keep it that way.

Finally the warmth reached his face and caused his beard to grow out, but for Dan that made sense as he had been growing it out during his bulk. He had intended to trim it back down in the spring, but he had decided he liked the look and was considering keeping it. Dan had also noticed Chris had been rubbing his cheeks more than normal too so he didn't think Chris would have a problem if the beard stayed all year round.

Dan looked at the jumper that he was about to put on and then wondered why he had taken it from the bedroom. He had woken up due to the bedroom being too hot and had come out to the living room to cool down, so a jumper was the last thing he wanted to put on. Dan decided that even the socks he'd put on were too much, so he quickly slipped them off.

Instead Dan walked across to the fridge and enjoyed the cool breeze on his chest that came after he opened it. He decided to start getting breakfast ready as Chris would be getting up soon and they didn't want to be late for their buddies at the gym. It was chest day today which they both enjoyed, although Dan's favorite part of the day actually came in the evening when they would spend time massaging each others sore furry pecs and then snuggling up together on the couch.

Dan couldn't believe how lucky he had been when he met Chris. It seemed like he had met his soul mate and now they had moved in together everything was perfect.

[djarrex]

in this moment

here’s a little thing I wrote on dad!Steb if he’d gotten a human pregnant. I have a couple of headcanons about his character in here, too. cw: pregnant!reader and non-descriptive birth scene. very, very soft. nothing explicit. about 1.3k words.

read on ao3 | masterlist

Neither of you had thought that it'd be possible for you to get pregnant–which is not the best excuse to not have been using protection–but miraculous things happen when you least expect them to.

You’d planned on telling Steb the news on a picnic to his favorite quiet spot on a well-deserved day off, but instead you’d caved in on yourself early and told him one late night when he’d just gotten home after a long, hectic shift. He reacted pretty much the way you’d expected him to. It was confusion, at first. Motionless and wide-eyed. It was actually comical in a way, since he’d literally just walked through the door and was in the process of shimmying his duffle bag from his shoulder. You repeated yourself, and that’s when you saw it click. Steb’s brows knitted together, and he ripped off his beret before practically running to you and enveloping you in a hug. He whispered his surprise in your ear, his pure disbelief – his concise utterances all layered heavily with excitement. 

When it really started to settle in, you weren't even sure if you knew the first thing about carrying a non-human baby. Steb wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, either; he’d been hatched from a soft-shelled egg laid by his mother, but his father was human, which is why Steb has many human features: like having hair and eyebrows, and blunt teeth. The sexes of the parents were reversed this time, so neither of you had a faintest clue how it would work, or if it was even viable.

Using the extensive database at the station, Steb was able to find the sole doctor in Piltover who specialized in non-human medicine, holding a practice in the quieter part of the city. This doctor helped tremendously, and had better insight than the previous doctor you’d tried, someone who had too much unspoken judgment paired with zero knowledge of Steb’s species. The whole situation was unprecedented, but that didn’t stop your new doctor from giving it their all. 

From very early on, the two of you were assured that the baby was healthy and growing as it should, comparative to a human fetus carried by a human mother. You were expected to carry your child the full term and have similar symptoms as any other expectant mother.  At home, you had done plenty of your own research, and Steb had read up as much as he could when it was slow at the station. Being a practiced medic meant he was able to retain a little more of the medical aspects of it all, and he proved just how dutiful of a partner and father you knew he’d be. Steb almost anticipated your needs, knew what techniques to try when you were uncomfortable and sore, and made sure you were eating plenty of nutritious foods. 

Taking into account what you’d researched, it really did feel like a normal, human pregnancy – just with something a little bit different growing inside of you. Both of you slowly grew more confident. Less time was spent worrying about the unknown and instead that time was used to set up the nursery, gather the most important items necessary, and still make sure there was time set aside for the two of you as a couple.

As the weeks turned into months, and with every check up, your baby had similar behaviors to human fetuses; but the three of you–Steb, your doctor, and yourself–knew that the baby would need to be born in a similar way to its father, so it was suggested and agreed upon that you would deliver in water.

The two of you wanted your child to be born at home, and a proper birth plan was made. When your water broke, Steb was on shift. You quickly called the station – and Steb must've sprinted the entire way home, no doubt weaving his way through citizens promenading along the streets, because when he arrived he was out of breath and eerily bone dry. His concerning condition shoved to the back burner, Steb immediately went into action. He filled the tub, grabbed everything on the list the two of you had detailed prior, carried you in, and called the doctor. You’d strongly encouraged him to take a quick, cool shower to rehydrate, but he denied, concisely stating that being by your side for every moment was the most important thing.

Labor was no walk in the park. You were pretty sure you’d nearly broken Steb’s fingers with how hard you’d been squeezing his hand. Ever the calm and collected medic, he coolly guided you through it all, modeling your breathing and providing the doctor with an extra hand when needed. Between his tasks, he would reassure you in his own, unspoken way when you started to visibly falter.

A final, prolonged push and you felt it. Breathless, you looked to Steb first, gauging his reaction. He was panting in disbelief and was utterly motionless with shock, staring wide-eyed into the discolored water. His hand was still locked with yours, but it grew limp in your grasp, distracted. When you finally looked between your bent legs, you saw a faint glimmer of scales, and the most beautiful set of little webbed fingers and toes as they curled up in the water.

You don’t remember the last time you’d seen Steb tear up – but he was absolutely beside himself when he reached in the water with shaky hands to carefully grab his baby girl. Cradled in his arms, she started to cry with her first breaths of oxygen. He shushed her softy, slowly rocking her back and forth. Steb looked at you with all the love in the world, and the rush of hormones caused you to start bawling.  Through blurry eyes you watched as she blinked her own bright, glassy ones up at him. He blinked back, stray tears streaming down his cheeks. 

You were totally exhausted, but you wanted to commit her to memory, as if you’d never see her again. You were in awe of the little being that you’d just pushed out of you – a spitting image of the man who was holding her.

Her skin, a paler shade of teal, glistened with moisture. She already had quite a bit of thick hair that had grown on the top of her head. Too small to protrude at this age, her pointed ears were instead pinned back against her head. On her face under her eyes were pink shimmery scales and frills, similar to her dad’s only miniscule and a little lighter in comparison. The same, striped patterns stretched across her tiny body. Steb adjusted her to lay her head on his other arm, and during the switch you saw the fins that looked like little bumps line her spine up to the back of her head.

You wondered if this was exactly the way her dad looked after he’d hatched, when his infant body started to take shape.

She had your nose, but basically everything else belonged to Steb. Flawless. 

He said her name, the one you’d agreed on long before that moment; it came from Steb’s homeland. It fit her perfectly. 

A million promises swam in his eyes as he kept his adoring gaze on her. He looked so at ease with his newborn daughter in his arms. Natural. Fatherhood suited Steb for sure.

Closing your eyes and tilting your head back, you recalled just how unsure and anxious the two of you had felt at the beginning, after the initial shock had faded. You never could have imagined what it would be like, living in a moment quite like this one.

[callmemonster68]

NIKI - Fallen Angel ( smut )

Cast out of heaven for breaking the rules, but finding redemption in the pleasures of a mortal.

Pairing: Niki, a fallen angel X FemReader

Genre: Obscenity

Warning: Contains explicit content, unprotected sex, suggestive, penetration, explicit language, climax, sex, swearing, loss of virginity, hickeys, messy make-out sessions, dirty talk, compliments, rough sex, touching bruises, handcuffs, chains, sadomasochism , masochism, brands

Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!

Niki, the fallen angel, had been banished from Heaven with a seemingly eternal sentence. Each feather of his once-radiant wings now carried a sinister black hue, a mark of his transgression. He wandered among humans but found no solace. His nights were consumed by insatiable desires—a hunger no mortal seemed able to satisfy... until he met Y/N.

The first time he saw her, something inside him shattered. It wasn’t just desire—it was need. She was like a whispered prayer in the darkness of his soul, and Niki knew she would either save him or lead to his ultimate destruction.

One night, under the pale moonlight, he approached her. His presence was intense, as though he drew the air from the space around him. Y/N stared at him, both intrigued and cautious. He seemed otherworldly.

Niki: “You feel it, don’t you?”

His voice was deep, a whisper laced with dark promises. He lifted a hand, almost touching her face, but stopping just short.

Niki: “The power that surges between us...”

Y/N took a step back, but he followed, his eyes gleaming with something more than human.

Niki: “You want me as much as I want you.”

He smiled, cruelly, as though savoring the thought.

Niki: “Don’t run. I’ve already decided… You will be mine.”

----------TIME SKIP----------

The days that followed were a game of power. Niki appeared whenever he wanted, invading her dreams and her reality. He made Y/N feel small but powerful, as if she had control over him—though she knew it was the opposite.

Niki: “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

He whispered, gripping Y/N’s chin firmly, forcing her to look at him.

Niki: “The way I hold you, how I dominate every part of your being. Don’t deny it. I can feel your heartbeat quicken.”

S/N: “You’re insane.”

Niki: “Maybe, but you belong to me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that never changes.”

Then he disappeared again, leaving Y/N in confusion, unsure if it had all been a dream or if it was real.

----------TIME SKIP----------

This time was different. He didn’t wait for midnight to find her. It was early evening, as Y/N went through her nightly routine before bed, that he appeared. Startled, she jumped at the sight of Niki’s devilish grin. He enjoyed testing her limits, teasing her with words that carried as much desire as threat.

Niki: “You’re fragile, human, but that’s what excites me. Watching you break… and beg me to continue.”

Y/N tried to pull her arms away, but he laughed, low and husky.

Niki: “No. Not so fast. I told you, you’d be mine. And fallen angels don’t break their promises, little one.”

He moved closer, pressing their bodies together, studying her reactions. He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers. When she didn’t pull back, he closed the distance, kissing her—a wild kiss from the start. Y/N broke away, gasping for air, which only made Niki laugh, a deep, throaty sound, as though reveling in her innocence and desperation.

Niki: “You want this as much as I do, giving in so easily. I knew it would happen, but you’re outdoing yourself—like a desperate little puppy at my mercy.”

Y/N’s face flushed deep pink, her body growing warmer. She couldn’t deny it—she felt fear, but she was desperate to be touched, consumed by him. And he knew it, savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

Niki guided S/N to the bedroom. With a snap of his fingers, her clothes lay in shredded pieces on the floor. She tried to cover herself with her hands and arms, but Niki stopped her. Kneeling, he picked up a scrap of fabric and used it to bind her hands behind her back, gagging her as well. Y/N didn’t resist; she knew she wouldn’t win a fight against him. Truth be told, she wouldn’t say it aloud, but she was growing more eager for what was to come.

Y/N had long realized that Niki was a sadistic, cruel brat who would ruin her in every way imaginable—and she wanted it. She had spent her life searching for someone who could break her, someone who could destroy her completely. She never found it—until now. She was about to have the most painful and pleasurable experience of her life.

Niki conjured a dagger with a black blade, and Y/N’s eyes widened in fear of what he might do. His usual devilish grin was in place, his eyes alight with desire as he trailed the dagger toward her soft skin. He pressed the blade lightly against her neck, causing a superficial cut, and then pulled it away. Locking eyes with her, he leaned in and licked the blood from the wound, sucking at it. With her blood still on his lips, he kissed her.

She would have found it strange—disgusting, even—if a friend had described such an act. But here she was, finding it unbearably hot. Niki pulled back.

Niki: “That was just the first. I’ll mark you every time I take you. It’s a sign, a warning, a confirmation that you’re mine—and you’ll be marked as such forever.”

In an instant, Niki stripped himself bare. Y/N was stunned by the sight of him, especially by the size of him—it was the largest she’d ever seen. Her mouth watered with desire, and Niki didn’t miss the reaction.

Niki: “You filthy bitch, staring at my cock like a starving dog eyeing a bowl of food.”

A loud slap echoed in the room. Niki had struck Y/N across the face, bringing tears to her eyes. The humiliation he was making her feel only heightened her arousal.

Niki: “On all fours on the bed, now!”

Y/N obeyed immediately, her face pressed against the mattress, her ass raised high—the most perfect sight Niki had ever seen. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself behind her. He aligned his cock with the wet entrance of her pussy. One hand gripped her bound wrists while the other tangled in her hair, forcing her face down. Without warning, he thrust deeply into her.

Y/N felt a mix of pain and indescribable ecstasy as he stretched her walls, reaching depths no one else ever had. His rhythm was brutal, relentless. He fucked her while degrading her with the dirtiest insults, and with each one, her pussy clenched him tighter.

Niki: “Filthy little human, you like being treated like a cheap slut. Then that’s exactly what you’ll get.”

Without warning, Niki pulled out. He untied the scrap of fabric binding her hands and set her free. Tossing her aside, he ripped the gag from her mouth and laid back on the bed.

Niki: “Come on. Ride me!”

Y/N got up, positioning herself over Niki. She aligned the head of his cock with her entrance and locked eyes with him.

Y/N: “An angel? You’re nothing but a depraved demon. You shouldn’t even have the right to keep those wings.”

Smirking, she lowered herself fully onto Niki’s cock. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, leaving marks on her skin. S/N rode him with fervor, setting a rapid, devoted pace.

Niki: “You’re the one who should be an angel, so divine, with such a perfect pussy—lifting me to heaven.”

Y/N: “Your cock fills me so perfectly. It’s like I’m being possessed by the Devil.”

It didn’t take long for both of them to climax together. Y/N collapsed onto Niki’s bare chest, both of them utterly spent. As Niki ran his fingers through her hair, Y/N traced her fingers along the feathers of his wings.

Suddenly, a cold air filled the room, and a mist began to form. Y/N felt the feathers of Niki’s wings vibrating beneath her hands. Their startled gazes met, and in a quick motion, both sat up, facing each other on the bed.

Within seconds, the mist enveloped Niki, and when it dissipated, his wings had vanished. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as she noticed something unusual atop Niki’s head.

S/N: “Niki, you have horns on your head!”

This story is part of the universe of ' Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ' created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[goorehound]

Viktor x Silco Fic Idea

chapter 2

ao3

Okay, I need beta readers here. Not so much looking for correction on grammar and such, but wondering if this is worth writing more of! Please give me your thoughts! This is a random thing I banged out quickly, and I’m feeling like I could turn it into a full fic. Feedback very much appreciated!!

Summary:

Silco, a newer (and far from proud) resident of Piltover, is struggling to raise his freshly teenage daughter Jinx in the uppercity after a messy divorce. Teenagers are difficult, and a new school is always an adjustment.

Viktor, a begrudging and very overqualified high school teacher (after a falling out with his old business partner) is desperately trying to keep his promising student afloat. If only her father were not such a stubborn bastard that refuses to work with him.

Attending a meeting at a stuffy, Piltie high school was the lowest of concerns on Silco’s priority list. They would learn to cope with Jinx’s rowdy behaviour eventually, she was simply a bit hyperactive - they only jumped to conclusions because she was from the lanes. Thus it all felt blown out of proportion, what could she possibly have done so early in the school year to warrant a conference on her behaviour? Likely nothing of note.

Silco had no qualms about further postponing, claiming his business hours kept him far too occupied to be able to bend his schedule to allow a meeting. So far, the exaggeration had worked - not a full lie. His hands were very full with work, yes, but he could always nip out for an hour if need be. Silco only relented when words like suspension and expulsion were thrown about. The distaste he held for these institutions and his reluctance to involve himself in frivolous concerns about Jinx’s supposed bad behaviour, according to the Pilties delicate sensibilities, was not stronger than his want for Jinx to have every opportunity available to her.

A diploma from this school would open more doors for her, in future. Though he wished deeply that she would not want to continue life in the upper city after school was through, he would not want the option to be closed off to her. Silco knew that she was smart beyond her years, unblinded by the pride of a father and merely an innate fact. She was a genius and that was completely unarguable, she would do incredible things in her lifetime - of that he was sure.

So, what was one stuffy little meeting in the grand scheme of things? He could wipe the disgust off his face, listen with faux concern to whatever pompous asshole had taken issue with his daughter, then be on his merry way. Simple.

“Silco, was it?” A lilted and accented voice drew him from his musings. What he did not expect when being welcomed in to the cramped office adjoining to a spacious classroom was - well. A sump rat just like he, if he had to speak ineloquently. Which was all his bewildered brain could manage at the moment, dichotomous eyes flickering about as they took in the lanky form in the doorway. There was a quality that was difficult to hide up here, he’d discovered.

A certain look. A specific, guarded look that swam just beneath the eyes. The accent had given him away like a massive billboard proclaiming his origina, and yet the quality in which he held himself was familiar. Even without speaking, Silco would have spotted it instantaneously. Like recognizes like. No matter the time spent above the fumes, one could not erase their upbringing. Certainly not enough to hide from those who understood.

“You are Jinx’s father, yes?” The man asked, something like steely defiance flashing in his eyes. Oh, perhaps Silco’s staring had been misinterpreted.

“Correct.” Silco offered a smile that did not quite crinkle the eyes, detached and smooth. “And so you must be Viktor.” He offered a hand. Politely, he offered the hand Viktor could shake without releasing the grip on his cane. Pleased by the short and firm grip he was given in return, Silco was swift to follow Viktor into the room without an ounce of hesitation. His attention had officially been caught. Unless this man had been corrupted by his time above, there may be actual reason for concern for Jinx’s actions.

“It is not usually so difficult to convince a parent to come in.” Viktor expressed as he sat down at a modest desk, cane clinking against the wood as it was propped up. Blunt. Silco appreciated that.

“I am a busy man.” Silco spread his palms in an appeasing what-can-you-do manner and smiled the same, disingenuous smile as before. “But with your persistence, it must be urgent. What is it you believe Jinx to have done?”

Believe. Suspect. Accuse.

There was a heaved sigh, and Viktor adjusted the papers in front of him as if to bide time. “She has been,” he seemed to try to parse the correct wording out of the air, face contorting just the slightest. “Disruptive in classroom settings. She has a short temper, a very passionate disposition.”

Silco stared expressionless as he processed the statement. Yes, that was Jinx in a nutshell, and his frustration mounted at being dragged in due to his daughters personality. He prayed there was more to this, and it was not a complete waste of air for Viktor to share this observation. “Go on.” Silco urged, legs crossing one over the other as he leaned back in his seat.

“Well.” Viktor cleared his throat, apparently struggling to maintain eye contact. “There are suspicions that she is involved in some vandalism.”

Of course. Why would she not immediately climb her way to the top of every suspect list? The burning ember of rage that had made itself a nest in his chest after their move above the smog flared, a righteous anger flickering below his sternum. “Hmm, I see.” Silco hummed diplomatically. “Any proof of this?”

“No.” Viktor sounded almost as though he was attempting to reassure, eyes finding their way back to Silco’s own. “What kid does not enjoy a little vandalism? It could have been anybody.”

The following silence was thick.

“But Jinx has to be more cautious than any student, I’m sure you understand.” Was that sympathy that Silco felt in the undercurrent of those words? “She is- she will be scrutinized more heavily. I worry that she may be painting a target on her back.”

Silco highly doubted that Viktor had gotten the go ahead to share this sort of sentiment in this meeting. The man truly held his curiosity in a firm grip. Be careful, he seemed to say, they will be harsh with her. But Silco did not need that sort of warning, fully aware of the prejudice that she would face in this environment. It was a dialogue he held openly with her and was comfortable answering any and all questions she had regarding it, as he had done repeatedly. She was just as conscious of this fact.

“Your concern is much appreciated.” Silco assured, voice not betraying any of his frustration. What did this man expect him to do? Train Jinx to abide entirely by this society’s rules, and subsequently erase her personality? He had absolutely no inclination to do so. The vandalism he could discuss with her, because he had no doubts she was the culprit. Not on school grounds, perhaps, don’t get caught. Lessons he’d taught before. But the rest, the Pilties would just have to adjust. “But there is not much to do in the way of her disruptive nature. I will not dim her-“

“I am not asking you to dim her.” Viktor interrupted, seeming insulted at the implication. What an interesting little man, he must have such a big heart. Had Silco not been so frustrated about the whole predicament, he may have taken a moment to be glad Jinx had a teacher like him to turn to.

“-And the school will adjust to her.” Silco continued with certainty, as if he had not been interrupted. “Having a mind like hers topside will only benefit them, and they will see that.” Her exemplary grades had been a marvel at her elementary school, and Silco knew Piltover’s need to exploit her gifts would win out. Playing the system, as it were.

Viktor’s lips parted as though he had more arguments, eyebrows broadcasting his displeasure at Silco’s response. Despite the obvious disagreement, Viktor seemed to compose himself before speaking. “I urge you to get on top of this before it grows into a larger problem.” When he reached for papers this time, it was not listless fidgeting. He grabbed a pamphlet and slid it across.

“She is acting out,” Viktor did not say this with the judgement those words would normally carry. “And a place to vent her emotions, that is not during classes, could help.” With that said, the paper was now thrust towards Silco more insistently.

Therapy. As if she was some broken child from the sumps, as if her eccentric being implicated there was something wrong with her. As if she needed some well-meaning third party to poke around in her brain, and encourage her to subdue any part of herself. She was fine, the way she was. Jinx did not need to change, and Silco would not hear another word of it. He stood stiffly, snatching the paper off the desk. Perused it, hummed under his breath, before crumpling it within his fist. Viktor looked on with evident disgust.

“Thank you, for your advice.” Silco did not plaster on a friendly expression, but his face was not nearly as thunderous as he felt inside. Blessedly neutral, he dropped the wrinkled pages into the bin on his venture towards the door. “Apologies for the disruptions in your classes. Of course, I’ll give her a stern talking to.” Now, the shit-eating curve of lips returned, slicing into his next words with a false sense of cheer. “Don’t hesitate to reach out if any more pressing concerns arise.”

It was only after he exited the that he accepted within himself that he may have given an overdramatic exit. Perhaps, if he really reflected, he was needlessly harsh. Silco felt it was excusable at the moment - he had been right about the meeting being an utterly useless waste of time, and how disappointing indeed. He’d gotten his hopes up when he discovered the nagging emails had come from a devastatingly pretty Zaunite, hoping maybe the tables had turned in his favour. But the conversation had gone just as irritating as initially expected.

At least he could impart some wisdom around committing petty crimes such as vandalism over breakfast the next morning. He supposed that could save Jinx more trouble in the future, so, small victories.

[feedthepheasants]

gale x f!tav, modern college au pt.3 - dinner date

part 3/continuation of what i started during flufftober '24 because while mom didn't raise a quitter i did grow up to be a procrastinator! (sorry mom)

read part 1 here and part 2 here if ye so dare.

tav goes to gale's apartment for their first official date!

read part 3 here on ao3! | wc: 2,932

As the hours tick by, Tav grows more and more impatient and nervous. Somehow, the time passes too quickly and yet, not fast enough. And just when she’s able to focus long enough to lose herself in her work, she remembers that tonight is the night — her first official date with Gale. 

The nerves course through her body so thoroughly that her usual fidgeting worsens – dropping her keys trying to get into the car, fumbling with the buckles on her shoes while trying to get changed once she gets home. Though the early evening air is crisp, it’s blazing in her apartment and the idea of throwing on a coat after her third outfit change exacerbates her stress. 

While Tav knew there shouldn’t be any real pressure about tonight, she couldn’t help but feel like if it went wrong in any way, everything would be different between them. She’d gotten too comfortable wading in the gray area with him – hoping but not expecting, enjoying their repartee and campus walks when they met up with one another outside Smith after class. He’d given her no reason to think things could change for the worse, but still, the paranoia was driving her mad. 

With a sigh of defeat, Tav changes out of the outfit that worked in her mind days ago, but didn’t feel right tonight – not to mention the still-dropping temperature outside. Swapping the black skirt for a pair of worn but well-fitting jeans and grabbing a dark green knit sweater, she tosses the rejected items back onto the laundry pile at the end of her bed, grabs her keys and heads out the door. 

Hours later, Tav’s earlier stress about tonight – the dinner, her outfit, the ‘officiality’ of their date – doesn’t matter. The spiced potato and beef stew is nearly gone, and Gale and Tav are helplessly wine-drunk, giggly and tucked into the couch, their knees touching. Tara surveyed them for a while from a comfortable perch on the back of the couch, but scurried off to Gale’s bedroom in a huff of annoyance when her usual bedtime passed and Gale was still occupied with Tav. They hadn’t seen her since. 

Just like Tara, the first and second bottles of wine came and went. Gale had offered to open up another, and not yet ready to say goodnight, Tav agreed.

And that was precisely the reason why Gale was now narrating Feather-Fall Into My Arms with an alarming surety. He’d even gone so far as to do different voices for the characters, sending Tav back and forth between belly-aching fits of laughter and burning-red embarrassment. 

“Oh, you’ll love this–” Gale says as he flips through the pages. “Gale–” 

“No no, just listen,” he laughs, landing on the page he’d been searching for. He clears his throat, getting into character. 

Tav already can’t contain her own giggling. She sinks further into the couch, pulling the neck of her sweater up over her chin and up to her nose as Gale gears up to read. 

“A storm had been raging within Seraphine all day, and Adrius’ now-silent but ever-looming presence had done nothing to calm her. The moon was low in the sky and the night was quiet, save for the cracking branches and leaves beneath their feet. 

Every glance over the last few days of their travels had felt…charged. With what, Seraphine couldn’t tell, but ever since they’d had to share that bed at the tavern, things felt different between them. She wondered if Adrius felt the same, or if it was all in her head. But she’d awoken that morning, held safe in his arms… 

“Oh my god, the one bed trope? Seriously?” Tav rolls her eyes, nudging Gale’s arm with her knee. 

“Give it a chance, Tav!” He laughs, clearing his throat again. “Her nerves had been set ablaze, and Seraphine couldn’t tell if she wanted him closer, or never wanted to see him again. 

She tried to focus on anything but him; the trees, the moonlight, the sounds of their footsteps. But all she could hear was his breathing, and couldn’t help but feel his warmth at her side. His hand accidentally brushed against hers. Seraphine glanced up at him, and though Adrius was already staring down at her, he looked away quickly and returned his focus to their path. That’s when she snapped.

‘What was that about?’ 

‘What?’ Adrius asks, turning over his shoulder to face her when she stops walking. 

‘You looked away from me,’ Seraphine huffs. ‘Why?’ Adrius hesitates. ‘Do you have anything to say to me, or are we going to continue the rest of the way to Elthyra in silence?’ She doesn’t let him answer. ‘Or, are you waiting for me to say something to you first?’ 

Adrius’ eyes darken, and he looks down at the ground between them. ‘It’s nothing. Come on, we need to keep moving.’ 

‘No Adrius,’ Seraphine says, crossing her arms and planting her feet firmly into the soft ground. ‘I’m not taking another step until you say whatever it is you want to say.’ He gives her a look, but she refuses to relent.’ Seraphine’s quite stubborn, if you couldn’t tell.” 

“Oh really?” Tav asks. “Thanks Gale, I don’t think I caught on to that.” She nudges him again with her knee, but Gale takes the opportunity to lean in closer, settling in between her legs. He shifts so that he’s leaning against her bent leg, his warm cheek pressed to the inside of her knee. Gale props himself up with one elbow, one hand holding the book and the other resting on her thigh. Tav’s stomach swims with butterflies and she can feel her cheeks flush from more than just the alcohol, but Gale continues on. 

“Where was I? Oh– Adrius studies her for a moment, letting out a sigh. He walks closer to where Seraphine stands, their eyes locked firmly on one another for a moment. She instinctively unfolds her arms, but before she can tell what’s happening, Adrius grabs her around her middle and throws her over his shoulder, then continues walking down the path. 

‘Put me down, Adrius!’ Seraphine shouts, though her thrashing is all in vain. His hold on her is strong, and it’s clear he has no intention of releasing her. ‘If you don’t set me down right now, I’ll–’ 

‘You’ll what, Seraphine?’ 

‘I’ll scream,’ she says venomously. 

Adrius scoffs. ‘Even if I talk?’ 

‘Especially if you talk,’ she snaps. ‘Just put me down so we can have a civilized conversation!’ 

‘Not if you have no intention of walking,’ he argues. ‘We’re running out of time, Seraphine. If we don’t make it to Elthyra by–’ 

Adrius is cut off by a blood-curdling scream, causing several birds in the trees above them to squawk and fly away. In a second Adrius pulls Seraphine from his shoulder, pressing her up against the nearest tree and covering her mouth with his hand. 

‘Seraphine!’ Adrius chastises. ‘What is the matter with you?’” 

“They’re totally about to kiss, aren’t they?” Tav asks, peering towards the book. Gale moves it so she can’t read the words on the pages, continuing. 

“Seraphine’s anger is suddenly far from her as she stands, looking up into Adrius’ eyes. The only light comes from the stars and the moon up above, but it’s enough. Gray flecked with green. Eyes she could get lost in. Eyes she had gotten lost in, if she was being honest. Adrius also seemed lost in hers, unable to pull himself away, no matter how hard his magic thrashed within him for release. 

Adrius removes his hand from Seraphine’s mouth, but keeps her pressed firmly between his front and the tree. Their breathing is heavy as they search each other’s eyes for something unspoken between them. 

‘Adrius–’ Seraphine starts, but quiets when he takes her chin in his fingers. Her heart roars from within her chest, almost deafening as the beats echo into her ears when Adrius runs his thumb over her bottom lip. 

‘It’s selfish of me to want you this way, Seraphine,’ Adrius whispers. ‘But I do. I do want you, and I don’t care if it’s wrong.’ 

Seraphine softens at this. ‘Adrius, I–’ 

‘I want to be selfish with you,’ he continues. ‘But I can’t do that unless you let me.’ 

Adrius couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so vulnerable with someone. He hadn’t imagined he could be this way with anyone, until he’d met her. When the wizard had awoken with his arms wrapped around her, when he’d realized that it had been the scent of her freshly washed hair that had helped lull him to sleep that night, he knew there’d be no coming back from this if he decided to face it. But he needed to, just as much as Seraphine did. 

‘Please, Seraphine,’ Adrius whispered, voice barely above a breath. ‘Let me be selfish with you.’ 

Seraphine nodded only once, and–” 

“I KNEW IT!” Tav shouts. 

“Tav!” Gale says incredulously, unable to hide his grin. “Are you going to let me finish reading this or not?” 

“Fine! Fine,” Tav laughs. She had to admit, as cheesy as it was, it was better than The Sorcerer’s Embrace, and she wanted to know what would happen between Seraphine and Adrius after all of the excerpts Gale had performed for her throughout the night. He wouldn’t tell her if her guesses were right or wrong, but he did say that she’d be on the edge of her seat for the last fifty or so pages – and that he had the other two books, ready and waiting for her to read them. 

“Thank you,” Gale says, earning another scoff from Tav. He clears his throat again and returns to the book. “Any words Seraphine might’ve managed disappeared as Adrius’ lips brushed against hers. Tenderly, at first; though a fire began to blaze within her, and a long-suppressed part of her seemed to awaken at the touch. Seraphine kissed him back, and suddenly, all bets were off. 

Adrius’ steady hands cupped Seraphine’s face to bring her closer, the warmth between them enough to stave off the chilled night air. There was no king, no war, no cold and dark forest around them; only the urgency in his touch, making Seraphine’s stomach tighten, and a hunger in Seraphine that nearly drove Adrius to madness. All that mattered was that they were there, together and alive. 

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingled in the air as Adrius rested his forehead against Seraphine’s, his fingers tracing their way through her loose hair. If they didn’t leave the forest, they could stay like this forever. 

The storm Seraphine could feel within herself seemed quelled for now, and a different kind of spark began flickering to life. 

‘Everything’s going to be different now, isn’t it?’ She asked him, feeling a bit childish given everything that was going on around them. 

‘Yes,’ Adrius said quietly. ‘I…the king,’ he starts to say, closing his eyes. ‘Your father – oh, Seraphine, it’s going to be a mess when we finally return. But…’ his voice trails off. 

‘But what?’ Seraphine asks, lifting a hand to brush his hair from his eyes. 

‘I don’t know,’ he shakes his head, finally reopening his eyes to look back at her. There was an unspoken but understood promise between them now. ‘I don’t know, but I promise you, I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep this. To keep you.’ 

Seraphine taunts him with a smile. ‘Oh really? Like what?’ 

Adrius returns the smile with his own, though he’s reluctant, as if trying his hardest to keep himself together in that moment with her. ‘I don’t know, but if you keep looking at me like that, we’ll both just have to find out.’” 

Gale closes the book. 

“What are you doing? Keep reading!” 

“Nope. I’m afraid you’ll have to start from the beginning and figure out what happens from there,” Gale replies, settling his eyes on Tav as he places the book on the floor. “I told you before that you’d like it. And you’re welcome to borrow it for as long as you’d like – I have all three.” 

Tav tosses her head back again. “I can’t believe you read these!” 

“Why?” Gale laughs. “Look, as an avid reader, if I’m decently interested in the story then I want to see it through. It doesn’t matter who the books are typically marketed for. I want to know what happens!” 

Tav lifts her head to look back at Gale, about to quip back at him, but is rendered speechless for a minute. She can’t place whether it’s the wine, the butterflies in her stomach, or the fact that he’s casually laid in between her legs. Where his hand rests on her thigh she feels her skin absolutely burning. He’s so beautiful like this. Gale’s normally beautiful, whether he’s focused on a reading or telling a story or a joke from across a cafe table. And he always seems relaxed around her, but this – with his cheeks flushed, a little sleepy and still drunk and laughing together like kids playing hide and seek… 

“You’re so pretty,” Tav says before she can stop herself. Her grin widens when Gale blushes at her compliment. “You are,” she smiles, tilting her head. She’s only saying this because she knows she’s drunk and can get away with it, otherwise her face would be redder than Gale’s right now just for thinking it. 

Gale looks right back at her, unable to hide his own smile. “Not as pretty as you are, Tav,” he says quietly. 

A cheekiness that Tav hadn’t felt in years starts to settle on her. “Really?” She asks, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“I think you’re one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, Tav,” Gale answers with zero hesitation. 

Tav is taken aback at his confession for a moment, stunned by the utter sweetness in his words, the honesty in his eyes. “I–” she starts, then has to shake her head to find her nerve again. “Well, if that’s how you feel, then why are you still looking over at me from right there?” 

Gale’s eyebrows flick up at this. “Did you want me somewhere else?” He teases. 

Tav nods. 

Gale’s eyes narrow as his smile grows. “And where might that be, Tav?” 

She nods at him in a silent request to draw closer. 

“Oh, don’t get all shy on me now, Tav. Use your words.” 

This makes her flush all over, bringing back the giggles. “Come here,” she says quietly, rolling her eyes. 

Gale’s brows knit together. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear you – what was that?” 

“Come here,” she says again. Gale half crawls closer, hovering just barely above her. Tav can feel the warmth radiating off of him, and it’s all she can do to keep from grabbing at his chest to bring him down on top of her. 

“Now that I’m here,” Gale drawls. “What do you–” 

Tav’s restraint doesn’t last very long – she pushes herself up onto an elbow, leaning up to kiss him as her free hand begins weaving fingers into his hair. Gale wastes no time either, gently settling his weight on top of her and fervently kissing her back as he wraps an arm beneath her, bringing their bodies even closer. 

When Tav wakes up, the last thing she expects is to be tangled up with Gale on his couch with the table lamp still on, and Tara half standing on her, nudging her nose into Tav’s face. “Hi Tara,” she whispers. Gale is still asleep, chin resting on top of Tav’s head.

Falling asleep had been an accident. It was hazy, but she could remember bits and pieces of kissing, pulling back and laughing at Gale’s sweet whisperings, then kissing again. They both knew they were too drunk for anything beyond, but this had been more than enough. It had been all too easy to lay her head on his shoulder once Gale had wrapped an arm around Tav to hold her close, and even easier to close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

There’s no blanket over top of them, but being folded in Gale’s arms keeps her warm enough. She reaches for her phone to check the time, and it’s nearly three in the morning. 

Class wouldn’t be for another seven hours, and surely she’d wake back up with enough time to drive to her apartment and change before heading to campus. Tav scratches the underside of Tara’s chin for a moment until she jumps up along the back of the couch and finds a spot to settle in. Tav does the same as she shifts to a more comfortable position, her head against Gale’s chest. 

As if he too had been stirred awake by Tara’s pestering, Gale clears his throat and moves as well, leaning up to turn off the table lamp, then tracing small circles with his fingers along Tav’s sweater-covered shoulder. “I hope you’ll let me take you out for coffee after keeping you out so late,” he mumbles groggily. 

“Mmhm,” Tav answers, settling against him once more. 

“It’s a date, then,” Gale says, and Tav swears she can hear the smile in his voice. He presses a kiss to her forehead and lets out a contented sigh. “Goodnight, Tav.” 

“Goodnight, Gale,” she says back, biting the inside of her cheek to contain herself. Everything would certainly be different between them now. 

And what a lovely thing that would be.

~

taglist:

@dr-demi-bee @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @lanafofana

@marlowethebard @crimson-and-lavender @spooky-lil-bee

@12thhouse-sun @waterdeep-weavemoss @amorgansgal

[slytherinshua]

ꔠ 　BETWEEN THE LINES OF US 　( 나 캠든 )

genre royalty au , rebel au , forbidden love , rogue!kamden x princess!reader   cw kamden ends up in jail , some small injury mentions , swords and tyranny the good royalty stuff  wc 1403   request @planetkiimchi for kamden + a favour done in secret for the 3k event   note had so much trouble thinking of what to do for this fic but i am so happy with the result once i finally got my two braincells to work hehe   net @kstrucknet @chrimatanet

Kamden had been sitting in the stale jail cell for nearly 72 hours, only allowed one plain meal a day and a jug of water. It was a bitter retribution for his miscalculation three days ago. Thinking he could take on three trained palace guards was overshooting his luck. He was one of the best trained with a sword in the entire nation, but there was still little one sword could do against three, no matter how skilled the master. Still, he didn’t give up hope. His plan of attack was still in motion, and he had a team of other rebels to back him. He just needed to find a way out of the prison he had been thrown into. 

You had been keeping close contact with Kamden, giving him secret ways into the palace and aiding him with weapons or inside info. Having the crown princess on his side gave him an upper hand no one else was aware of. Not even the other members of his group knew of your involvement. You had sworn him to secrecy long ago for your own safety. Kamden was a man of his word, and he would always stay unfeignedly loyal to you.

It was as the clock struck one that Kamden heard the turn of a lock and the rusty door to the jail cells rattling open. He stood up, licking his dry lips and preparing himself for anything. He had overheard mention of torture tactics the king had recently imposed from some of the guards the night before. And, as one of the most wanted in the kingdom, he was sure he would be one of the first to discover what tactics they used. 

Though, he sincerely hoped he would somehow be able to avoid it. He had already sustained injuries from fighting that went untreated, and more would only weaken his condition. He needed to stay as strong as possible if he had any hope of his mission succeeding. You had put your faith in him. He wouldn’t let you down. 

The footsteps that followed the opening of the door were soft and tentative. Kamden furrowed his brow, trying to see along the dark corridor through the small square opening on his cell used for food. There was no way a guard would make so little sound. It had to be someone else. Sure enough, a few steps later, Kamden could see that it was you trodding carefully down the hall, key and bottle in hand. 

When you reached his cell, you held a finger to your lips, shushing him from saying anything. He watched you carefully as you slid the key into the lock and turned, opening the cell up. Once the door opened, the torchlight from the hallway shined over you both, and he could see you much more clearly. Dressed in delicately crafted red silk, elegant hands holding the rusted keys, perfectly placed hair and jewelry framing your face. You looked beautiful as always, and Kamden felt a pang of shame in his chest at failing days ago. He put you through more trouble than he had meant to.

“I’ve given the guards some of the strongest wine. They will be out for the next hour. Let’s get you out of here while we have the chance,” you whispered, a tentative smile on your face and an unmistakable glimmer of excitement hidden in your eyes. No matter the setback, you were always ready to get Kamden back on his feet. For a princess, you were surely fearless. 

From an early age you had recognized your father’s tyranny and hoped to put an end to it. But overthrowing the throne was easier said than done, and you would never be accepted as queen if you committed outright treason. Kamden was your secret weapon, able to execute a more rewarding plan of attack. If everything went as you hoped, by the next full moon, Kamden would be the one to sit on the throne, and you by his side.

But you still had a long way to go to get there, and there were many little steps to attend to before the grand finale. In the present moment, you took his roughened hand— littered with cuts and bruises— in your soft one, and led him carefully to the safety and privacy of your bed chambers. His wounds from the fight with the guards worried you. Normally, you would send him back to his hideout immediately, but you knew their medical supplies were running low. For your own peace of mind, you ran the risk of keeping him beside you for a bit longer. Tending to his injuries was the least you could do to thank him for every risk he was taking for you.

You first gave him a change of clothes, as his old ones were torn in multiple spots. You had him sit on the side of your bed while you got out supplies. He was uncharacteristically silent through it all, and you wondered what was on his mind. 

“I hope your stint in the cells wasn’t too miserable. Let us both hope everything goes accordingly next time. We can’t risk another setback,” you muttered, tearing a piece of fabric to wrap some of his cuts with.

“What about the rest of your team? Have Siyun and Jiho received the supplies I sent? What about little Seungmo?” you smiled as you asked. Although none of the team knew of your involvement, you had garnered quite a lot of affection for them. Especially the younger ones. You saw potential in them— the warrior’s spark present in their eyes. Ambition for change in their every move. “Kamden? You haven’t said anything.”

The rogue hesitated, “I am nervous to make too much noise while confined behind these walls. You never know who could be listening,” he whispered. You nodded, making your way over to him again. 

“My chambers are far away from the great hall. Everyone is partying and inebriated. We are in no danger— I bought us at least half an hour,” you told him, cupping his cheek. His glance faltered, finding its way to the floor with a withering spirit. 

“I trust you. I just don’t want to put you in more danger. You’ve already done more than I could have ever asked of you,” he said quietly.

“And I will continue to do more. You need my help as much as I need yours. We are equal, Kamden. Don’t act any different just because I am royalty,” you said earnestly, brushing your thumb across one of the small cuts marring his perfect face.

“If you get hurt in the process of us succeeding, the entire nation will know. People will care. But if I—”

“If you get hurt, I will care. And I do care. You are injured right now. Let me at least patch you up before you leave. I may not see you again until the full moon…” your reprove started strong, but your voice faltered towards the end. The risks of your mission flashing through your mind once again. The chances of disaster happening, of it all going wrong, of Kamden not making it. You shook your head, clearing the thoughts from your mind. With the limited time you had, you had to stay focused on the task at hand. Worrying about the risks would only distract you further. 

You knelt in front of Kamden, inspecting the worst of his injuries on his stomach and arms. He was silent, letting you clean and wrap them up how you liked. Your words clouded in his head as you worked. He knew there was something between you two. Affection, chemistry, teamwork— love, perhaps. He had never stopped to consider how much you were doing for him, nor how his focus had turned more towards you as well. Almost as if the mission was an afterthought. Keeping each other safe took the forefront in moments like these.

Strangely, Kamden found it in himself to smile at the thought. You had lit a small candle of hope inside him from the moment he first met you, and it was still burning steadily every time he saw you. There was no doing this by himself— you would be there by his side every step of the way. Through all the risks and dangers, you were ready to face it together. 

ampers&one taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @loserlvrss,, @xikskrrrs,, @cupidslovearrows

[amaranthdahlia]

god i will never stop fawning over how absolutely SPECTACULAR afo vs bakugou was. genuinely one of the best fights in the entire manga in terms of art, the themes, the pararells, the gayness, the fight itself, and just. everything about it makes me wanna scream into my pillow and chew on it

[petit-papillion]

���😫😫

Merci sebchalea for the translations.

[scarletcomet]

i was talking with my dad because i don’t really understand a lot of things in my computer engineering class, and my dad has a degree in computer engineering. he said i should try to meet with the professor. i told him that the exam is in the morning, and he was like oh people usually start studying more than a day in advance. like first of all, i did not start studying today. second of all, did he miss the part where i’ve been severely depressed for the last like month to the point where im going to have to take incompletes in all (except maybe one) of my classes??

[fmhobeus]

so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*

a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!

nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.

nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.

nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.

nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?

nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.

nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (

nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.

choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.

nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?

nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.

nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.

"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."

uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.

"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.

nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.

nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.

nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.

nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.

nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)

nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.

"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."

oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.

you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.

"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.

fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.

he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.

nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)

[galadrieljones]

It speaks volumes when Lavellan calls Solas a "terrible liar" in the Cobbled Swan. Rook is, of course, confused by this. "He's the god of lies," she says. But Lavellan clarifies, because that's not what she means. She means that he can't tell "lies of the heart." That is why he had to turn her away, because he actually could not deceive her.

Varric, very early in the game, also refers to Solas as "sentimental." He says to Rook, "He could burn the world down, and the thing that would make him cry is a single flower with blackened petals."

There's something very interesting about the elven god of lies and deceit, who unwillingly wears his heart on his sleeve, essentially creating a new version of the world in which all sources of raw, magical *emotion* that, according to him, used to imbue it with so much life and beauty have been compartmentalized from the more brutish, harsh aspects of the physical world. Because he, himself, has had to do this very thing to his own heart. He's "split." A very cool archetype. When he tells the Inquisitor to "harden her heart to a cutting edge" in Inquisition, he is projecting. Solas has built a "veil" within himself, to protect his more stern, militaristic identity as The Dread Wolf from the effusive, soft, and intelligent man that is Solas. It's the only way he can get anything done. Perhaps we should more aptly call him the god of stoicism and compartmentalization.

It's also interesting how well characters like Varric seem to know Solas, because it communicates that Solas did open up to the people of the Inquisition, during which time he "played the role" of quiet, unassuming Fade mage. Perhaps this wasn't a role at all, however, and perhaps this is why he is failing so spectacularly now. Who he really is is just this man who fell in love and made friends and found a home within a community where he did not have to cut off his emotions in order to lead. This was the "breach" in his plans, so to speak. It tore his world apart.

The whole story of Veilguard actually starts because Varric knows he can appeal to Solas's emotions and that this has a high chance of working to some degree. It's important to remember that while Varric didn't change Solas's mind at the ritual site, he was able to keep Solas talking long enough for Rook to sabotage his plans. Solas entertains Varric's pleas, because, sort of as Rook guesses with Lavellan at the Cobbled Swan, in some ways, Solas wants to be stopped. He wants someone to pull the reins on him because he is too prideful to stop himself.

Thinking back to Trespasser, I remember we all sort of knew this right away just in reading his body language. I remember someone making a whole post about it, and how he will not allow her to get too close to him. When she approaches, he takes a very measured step back. And later, as he takes the anchor, a task which requires him to take her hand, we see exactly why this is. He breaks down, calls her his "love," and kisses her. He is so stern and so measured and in "control," but then, all it takes is a single touch from the woman to whom he showed a glimpse of his true heart, his true self, to bring him to his knees.

The Veil as a narrative manifestation for how Solas tends to seal his own raw emotions away from others in order to function as the revolutionary general he had to be for centuries is a very beautiful construct to me.

[itgetzweird08]

“Damn- already Bakugo? The movie isn’t even over!”

Denki whined, grabbing the remote to pause the comedy that was playing on the tv. It was movie night in the dorms, a way for the class to bond and decompress after classes. Everyone was huddled together, wrapped in blankets and sharing snacks. All accept Bakugo, who scowled at his yellow haired friend.

“It’s my bed time. I’ll see you nerds in the morning.” Denki huffed, crossing his arms as he muttered about Bakugo’s old man behavior. But Kirishima smiled, giving him a short wave and a “sleep well Baku-bro!”. The rest of the class also sent their goodnight wishes as Bakugo headed to his room.

It was only 8:30, which was a bit early even for Bakugo. He usually headed to bed around 9, but tonight was special.

When he got to his room, he locked his door and walked to his mirror, making sure his hair was to his liking and that there was no popcorn in his teeth. When he caught himself fretting over his appearance, he rolled his eyes and scoffed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jogging pants. ‘The fuck am I worried for? It’s just a Skype call’. And while he was right, it was just a call, it was a call with /you/.

You and Bakugo had been dating long distance for the past year and a half.

You met at the I-island convention, where you two got into a friendly competition at one of the challenges. After you managed to beat him at his own game, he recruited Mina to find you on social media. Anyone who could beat him was special..and it didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous to boot. However, his heart sank when he found out that you didn’t live in Japan. Still, he decided to follow and dm you anyways..which you promptly answered. The two of you have been talking non stop ever since.

What was just messaging turned into calling, then FaceTiming, to full on movie nights where you would count down to try and start the movie at the same time. And while it was inconvenient, it was fun. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Which is why he was always promptly on time for your calls. You had both been busy that week, so you weren’t able to talk as much as you normally did, which is why you scheduled the call. With the time difference, you would be slowly waking up to get ready for school while he was going to bed. He was able to tell you about his day, while he watched you get ready for yours.

The time difference was a hard challenge to navigate, but you made it work. Talking to eachother was the high light of both of your days. You loved seeing his face and hearing his voice, even if it was virtual and he loved the same. You were both very meticulous in nature as well, making sure that your times were aligned to get the most out of your talks as possible. That way, it always felt like enough.

And while it would be nice to hold him, to see his face in person, to kiss him..this was enough for now.

Bakugo hopped into his bed, plugging up his phone before pressing call and waiting for you to answer. And when you did, he was met with sleepy eyes and a warm smile. He could’ve sworn his heart was doing actual backflips.

“Hi Kats..”

“Morning dumbass”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at his teasing. And just by seeing your smile he knew, that until he could get to you, this would be enough for him.

——————

Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3