#i think I started answering it on the train

[seumyo]

people thinking that sakusa’s being maltreated because of the bruises on his forearm, but the truth is . .

Sakusa is known to always wear his compression sleeves on and off the court for post-game press conferences. It completed his signature look. His overall flair.

Everything seemed normal at first, but it wasn’t long before murmurs surfaced through the room. Reporters exchanged glances, some scrolling through their phones, others whispering among themselves.

The reason? For the first time in a long while, Sakusa wasn’t wearing his compression sleeves.

His toned forearms were exposed for everyone to see, and to the media’s surprise, they weren’t completely unblemished. Faint bruises and clusters of reddish dots speckled his skin—nothing severe, but noticeable enough to raise eyebrows. Some looked older, fading into his skin, while others were more recent.

The questions were bound to come.

“Sakusa-san, many fans have noticed that you’re not wearing your usual sleeves today. And, well…” she hesitated, gesturing vaguely at his arms.

“There’s been a lot of speculation about the marks on your skin. Is everything alright?”

Sakusa blinked once, his expression unreadable. He glanced down at his arms, clearly catching onto what she meant. A moment of silence passed before he let out a slow exhale through his nose.

He knew this would happen eventually.

“Seriously?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Then, into the mic, he deadpanned, “I’m fine.”

The room remained unconvinced.

Sakusa could already imagine what the internet was saying. Rumors were probably spreading like wildfire—was he getting into fights? Had he been injured in training? Worse, was something happening at home?

“If I may, are those from mosquitos? With the recent outbreak of mosquitos due to the warm weather, could it be from those?”

“No.”

“Allergies, perhaps?”

“None.”

A few more reporters shuffled in their seats, hesitant but clearly eager to dig deeper.

Then, another one asked, “Just to clarify, you’re saying these marks aren’t from… any sort of external conflict?”

Sakusa’s brow twitched. He leaned forward slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask as he adjusted the mic, and let out another small sigh. “I’m not being abused, if that’s what people are implying.”

The room went silent. His fellow players exchanged approving nods, letting their teammate handle the situation.

“My wife is in medical school,” Sakusa continued, his voice even, matter-of-fact. “She’s refreshing her phlebotomy skills, and I often volunteer to be her patient whenever she needs someone for a demo or assignment.”

The silence stretched for a moment before a few quiet chuckles broke through, some from relief, others from sheer amusement at the unexpected explanation. Well, it wasn’t often Sakusa talked about you.

“So… you’re saying these marks are from blood extractions?”

“Yes,” he answered, tilting his head slightly as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “She wants to practice, and I’d rather help her than have her struggle to find volunteers.”

Hinata whispered something to Bokuto, but even with the low volume of the mic, Sakusa still caught it.

“That’s kinda romantic.”

He turned his head slightly to glare at them, but Bokuto was already grinning. “No, but really! That’s, like, peak husband material. You’re not even fond of monthly checkups.”

Sakusa rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Meian chuckled. “You’re literally letting someone practice on you repeatedly. That’s dedication.”

Reporters were already typing away, some clearly rewriting their headlines. What had started as a potentially scandalous story had turned into something else entirely.

The media had long known Sakusa to be a private person, almost aggressively so. He rarely spoke about his personal life, and to this day, many fans still couldn’t believe he was married. Out of all the MSBY Black Jackals players, Sakusa and your marriage are by far the most private.

It wouldn’t even have been known if it weren’t for Hinata’s post with the newly wedded couple a year ago!

And yet, here he was, casually revealing that he lets you practice medical procedures on him just to support your studies.

“Is she any good?” another reporter asked, grinning now. “At phlebotomy?”

His eyes narrowed briefly. “Her undergraduate course is medical laboratory science—so yes, she’s been doing this for years.”

“And you’ve never complained?”

He shrugged. That was the stupidest question he’s heard today.

“Why would I? She supports me in my career. The least I can do is support her in hers.”

The room was quiet for a second before a wave of approving murmurs spread across the lobby area. The tension had completely shifted.

Bokuto grinned. “Man, you’re really down bad for your wife, huh?”

Sakusa sighed, clearly regretting every life decision that led him to sitting next to Bokuto in this moment. “I don’t see how that’s relevant to volleyball.”

Hinata laughed. “It’s not, but it’s fun to watch you get all flustered as you tell them more about [Last Name], Omi!”

“I’m not flustered,” Sakusa muttered, tugging at his jersey sleeve slightly as if contemplating whether he should just start wearing them all the time again to avoid situations like this.

“Like hell ye aren’t,” Atsumu snorted.

By the time the conference ended, social media had already latched onto the revelation.

#SakusaBestHusband started trending almost immediately, with fans gushing over how unexpectedly sweet he was. Some joked that they wanted a “Sakusa-level” of support in their relationships.

-

You had been watching the press conference from your laptop at home, your face buried in your hands as your notifications blew up.

A few minutes later, Sakusa messaged you.

Kiyoomi: I hate the internet.

You: And they love you, actually.

Kiyoomi: They won’t shut up about me letting you stab me with needles.

You: You do let me stab you with needles.

Kiyoomi: It’s more than that. Ugh, people don’t educate themselves enough about your profession

Kiyoomi: And it sounds worse when you say it like that.

You laughed, shaking your head.

You: Well, you are the best husband in the whole world ever. You kind of brought this on yourself.

He didn’t reply right away, and you assumed he was on his way back home. But when your phone buzzed again, your heart warmed at the short but sincere message.

Kiyoomi: You’re worth it. Be home in 20 minutes

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[xanneeeyyyy]

"WHERE THE HELL IS SHE?!"

Hey everyone! This is my first story here—hope you enjoy it! And sorry for any grammatical errors 🙏🏻 Just drop in the comments if y’all want a part 2! 💟

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒ .⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Wherein Katsuki Bakugou has a girlfriend who was hopelessly terrible with directions.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒ .⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

It was supposed to be a simple errand.

"Y/N," Aizawa-sensei had said after class, rubbing his temples, looking like he was already done with life. "Can you run to the store near the dorms and pick up some snacks for Eri? She ran out."

I straightened up and beamed. "Of course, Sensei! Anything for Eri!"

"It’s a five-minute walk. Be back quick."

I nodded enthusiastically. "No worries! I’ll be back before you know it!"

Famous last words.

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9:30 PM – Heights Alliance Common Room

Katsuki Bakugou was pissed. And when he was pissed, everyone felt it. His left leg bounced restlessly as he sat on the couch, gripping his phone so tight that it was a miracle it hadn’t exploded yet.

No texts. No calls. Nothing.

It was past curfew and his girlfriend was missing, and nobody had seen her all evening.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Someone tell me where the hell Y/N is. NOW." The entire common room froze. Kirishima, who had been casually scrolling on his phone, slowly looked up. "Uh… She’s not in her room?"Bakugou’s eye twitched. "OF COURSE SHE’S NOT IN HER ROOM! I CHECKED!"

"Maybe she's in the library?" Momo suggested.

"I checked!"

"Training grounds?"

"I CHECKED!"

Midoriya furrowed his brows. "She’s not answering her phone?"

"DO YOU THINK I WOULDN’T HAVE CALLED HER ALREADY, DUMBASS?!"

The whole room went silent.

And that’s when everyone started to realize—Y/N had been gone for a long time.

Todoroki blinked. "…When did you last see her?"

Iida frowned. "She left after class, I believe."

Kaminari sat up straight. "Wait, after class? That was at 4:30 PM!"

Collective horror filled the room.

"SHE’S BEEN GONE FOR FIVE HOURS?!" Kaminari screamed.

Mina shot up from the couch. "OH MY GOD, SHE'S DEAD!"

Kirishima gasped. "SHE GOT KIDNAPPED!"

"Or lost," Todoroki muttered, sipping his tea.

Bakugou’s vein popped. "OF COURSE, SHE GOT LOST! SHE’S A DAMN DIRECTIONLESS IDIOT!"

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Just then— A knock on the door. Everyone whipped their heads around. Aizawa-sensei stood there, looking slightly more awake than usual. And then he said the one thing that shattered the entire dorm.

"Where’s Y/N?"

Silence. Pure, deafening silence.

And then—

"YOU DON’T KNOW WHERE SHE IS EITHER?!"

The class erupted into chaos.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHERE IS SHE?!" Uraraka screeched.

"SHOULDN’T YOU KNOW?!" Kirishima yelled.

"SHE’S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY!" Iida pointed dramatically.

Momo clutched her chest. "Sensei, please don’t tell us you were the last person to see her—"

Aizawa blinked. "I just asked her to grab some snacks for Eri after class." Everyone stopped.

Kirishima stared. "…After class?"

Aizawa nodded. "Yeah. That was at 4:30 PM."

BOOM.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?!?” Bakugou exploded. Literally. His hands sparked, and his entire body radiated fury.

Aizawa sighed, completely unfazed by his student’s nuclear-level outburst. "Why are you all yelling?"

"BECAUSE YOU SENT HER OUT FIVE HOURS AGO, AND SHE HASN’T COME BACK!" Aizawa… blinked. Then, very slowly, he checked the time.

9:30 PM.

"…Oh."

OH?!

"Sensei!" Uraraka cried. "You sent her out alone?!"

"SHE GETS LOST IN THE DORMS!" Kaminari shrieked.

"She once tried to go to the training room and ended up in the boys’ bathroom," Sero added.

"One time, I found her outside the dorms when she was just trying to find the laundry room," Momo said gravely.

Todoroki sipped his tea. "She might’ve accidentally boarded a train."

Silence.

"SHE WOULDN’T—" Bakugou stopped.

He thought about it.

…She totally would.

His face darkened.

"THAT’S IT. I’M GOING TO FIND HER."

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Meanwhile…

I was very, very lost.

What was supposed to be a five-minute errand turned into five hours of wandering. I had taken a shortcut.

I should not have taken a shortcut.

Somehow, I had ended up in an entirely different neighborhood.

I checked my phone. 3% battery.

"…Oops."

I clutched the snack bag tightly. "Well, at least I got the snacks!"

That was not the priority.

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10:00 PM – Heights Alliance

Bakugou stormed back into the dorms, looking furious and exhausted.

"NO LUCK?!" Kirishima asked.

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE I FOUND HER, SHITTY HAIR?!" Bakugou roared. "I CHECKED EVERYWHERE!"

"We need to call the police," Iida declared.

"Or put up missing person posters," Kaminari added.

Todoroki sipped his tea. "Have we considered checking the store?"

Everyone stopped.

Bakugou froze.

And then—

The front door opened.

I stepped inside, smiling like nothing was wrong.

"Oh! Hey, guys!" I beamed, holding up the bag. "I got the snacks Aizawa sensei!"

Silence.

Then—

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!"

I blinked. "Uh… funny story—"

Before I could finish, I was tackled by Mina, Uraraka, and Momo.

"WE THOUGHT YOU DIED!"

"You were gone for six hours!"

Bakugou stomped over. His hands trembled. His jaw was clenched. His red eyes were burning.

"YOU," he growled. "YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

I gulped. "I… got lost?"

"NO. REALLY?"

"…Really."

His hands balled into fists. And then— He pulled me into a crushing hug.

I froze.

The entire class froze. "…Holy crap," Kaminari whispered.

"Did Bakugou just… hug someone?" Bakugou quickly shoved me away, face red as hell. "DON’T FUCKING SCARE ME LIKE THAT AGAIN!"

I laughed nervously. "Sorry?" Aizawa sighed. "Never again." He turned to me, eyes serious. "You are never running errands alone again." The class nodded aggressively. Bakugou crossed his arms. "Damn right, she’s not." I smirked. "So… I’m getting a personal escort now?" Bakugou’s face turned redder.

"SHUT UP YOU DUMBASS!"

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© 2025 CODE:BKRX — All rights reserved. Please don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[thethronezone]

i am loving the primarch fathers series! any chance you can come up with ideas when their child grows into their rebellious teenage phase?

When Mortarion's child starts acting up, there's no shouting. No long arguments dragging on until they are both screaming their heads off. Instead, he ignored them. Sure, he might send them to their personal chambers or give them more training exercises as punishment, but not once does he raise his voice at them. In fact, the more they rebel and talk back, the less he talks to them. Mortarion distances himself, hoping that by giving them space, they will eventually calm down on their own. He doesn't realize how abandoned they end up feeling. They think he no longer cares about them.

Fulgrim does not understand why his child is suddenly being so difficult. They used to happily follow him around, listen to his every word and did as he said without question. Things had been good. But something has changed. Where before they had sought his time, his attention, it was now as if they were now avoiding him. And when Fulgrim takes them with him to events, they looked downright frustrated, radiating a thinly veiled aura of annoyance. They don't even show him their art anymore! He likes their art. Fulgrim gets frustrated and even angry when they act up, mostly because he just does not understand why they are suddenly distancing themself from him.

So. Much. Shouting. Angron does not want to lay hands on his kid but when they talk back, when they don't listen to him, his temper flares as the nails in his head urges him to violence and the only way to release some of the pressure is to shout. And his kid shouts right back, unafraid of him. Part of Angron can't help but feel a bit proud, even as his face twists into a snarl. Because while they might argue, fight, his kid trusts him. They are not afraid of him. 'Old man' they call him and while it's disrespectful, Angron much prefers it to being called a butcherer or a monster.

It takes a while for Magnus to realize that his child is deliberately skipping lessons. One or two missed can be excused, but when a dozen? Something has to be going on. But when he questions them, they don't have an answer. At least not an answer that Magnus accepts and he tells them as such. This leads to an argument and before Magnus knows it, his child is storming away, their psychic presence practically a storm of negative feelings. And for once, Magnus is utterly clueless as to just what he did wrong.

Perturabo is furious. He's a perfectionist that demands obedience and so, when his child starts talking back and rebelling against him, it feels like a personal insult. A grievous slight. So, in retaliation, he becomes even harsher on them. Perturabo doesn't let up on them even once, every day is scheduled and they are watched by space marines and serfs alike that will immediately report to him if they step out of line. The relationship Perturabo has with his child becomes outright antagonistic at points as he does his best to break them down so he can build them up again into something proper.

Neither Alpharius nor Omegon can be described as "helicopter parents" but that doesn't mean that the child can't feel smothered all the same. Privacy, true privacy, is very rare, as both the Primarchs have the intense need to know everything. The child rebells and acts out because they feel like they constantly being watched and have no real personal freedom. Alpharius and Omegon try to give them space but they just can't let up on their old habits, which makes the kid feel even more frustrated.

Once upon a time, Lorgar's child would listen intently and with wide eyes as he told them about the divine. So eager to learn, to follow in his footsteps. But as they got older, they started to... lose interest. Lorgar only really started to worry though when they outright started to question their faith, question the existence of the holy. He tries to be patient, tries to keep their faith alive but it grates on him, frustrates him, when they refuse to listen. Still, he's determined to see this through and is confident that this is but a phase, a test for both of them and in the end they will remain a firm believer, just like him.

Horus is used to being liked, especially by those he considers family. He's his father's favorite son, the responsible older brother, the caring father. But recently, the one who used to adore him the most, his very own child, have started to act like they can't stand him. They roll their eyes when he speaks, they barely engages in conversation with him and then prefer to stay cooped up in their room rather than spend time with their father. Horus does not understand, can't relate or compare this to anything he's ever gone through. Ends up invading upon his child's space and privacy in his attempts to close this growing gap between them, something that only serves to frustrate them more.

Konrad does not handle it well. He's always been protective of his child, kept them close and in a place where he knows they'll be safe. To others, it might have seemed excessive, almost smothering, but Konrad had seen it as a necessity. When his child had been little, they accepted this as just another part of life, not knowing anything else, but now that they've started to grow up... they want more. They are no longer satisfied with the carefully gilded cage their father have built around them. Konrad, in an almost desperate effort to keep them safe, tries to limit their freedom, tries to stop them from leaving. This, of course, his child does not like. Not when they have heard about the world outside that's so close they can almost taste it. So they argue, they fight and the whole time, Konrad feels like he's losing the one good thing in his life. It makes him dig his claws in harder in a desperate attempt to keep them safe.

It's hard for Sanguinius. On one hand, he doesn't want to control his child, make them feel like he's smothering them. They are growing up and they won't be his little one forever. He needs to accept that. But on the other, Sanguinius doesn't want to let go. It's selfish of him but the thought of them leaving the nest one day, it scares him. What if he loses them? What if they leave and decide to never come back? Sanguinius has foreseen his own death but the thought of drifting away from his child scares him more than any vision of the future ever could.

Corvus notices the change immediately but rather than trying to do something about it, rather than talking with his child, he withdraws. Part of him understands that this is just a natural part of growing up but the rest of him feels, for the lack of a better word, hurt. He's always had this close bond with his child, this deep understanding, and seeing it seemingly fray and whittle away is near unbearable to him. But Corvus feels like there's nothing he can do to stop it, that it was inevitable, so he withdraws, stops spending as much time with his child, barely even talking to them. He watches them from a distance instead, waiting for them to make the first move to reconnect.

Ferrus has prepared for this moment. Kinda. If by prepared you mean 'send the kid away for proper training until they calm down' then yeah, he prepared. His kid either goes to learn under the adeptus Mechanicus or they start their space marine training. This is basically the modern equivalent to sending your kid to boarding school for a few years. It's for their own good but Ferrus won't lie and say that avoiding the problem played no part in this decision. He knows he's not good with the more emotional aspect of parenting so not trying is better than trying, right? Right?

Now, contrary to what some might assume, Rogal went through a rebellious phase when he was of similar age to his child. Granted, his 'rebellious' acts consisted of staying up late to finish his blueprints and engaging in arguments with construction workers regarding work efficiency and safety. Nonetheless, Rogal understands on some level what his child is going through which makes him more lenient. He still disciplines them when they act out but he also gives them more freedoms compared to before because he knows that, while rebellious, they are also becoming more mature and responsible.

In Vulkan's eyes, his child will always be just that; a child. HIS child. His little one. They might grow up big and strong but he can't help it, whenever he looks at them he sees the child that demanded stories before bedtime and struggled to pick up his tools. So even when they act out, even when they backtalk and act like the grouchy teenager they are, he doesn't get mad. Maybe a tad disappointed at times but he always gets over it. Endlessly patient with them but his seeming refusal to take their tantrums seriously makes his child feel frustrated, especially when the only thing they want is a reaction.

Lion thought that parenting would get easier as his child got older. Children are... messy. Nonsensical. Driven purely by emotion and whim. As hard as Lion had worked to instill discipline and order into his child from an early age, he had assumed that it would all pay off in the end. That they would act like an El'Jonson. Instead, they had gotten mouthy. Rebellious. They challenged everything he said, ignored what they didn't like, disobeyed clear orders. Yet no matter how hard Lion tried to discipline them, what punishments he dealt them for their insubordination, it never seemed to stick. If anything, it only made them worse. But Lion is just as, if not more, stubborn than them and refuses to back down. So, the fights continue.

At first Leman finds it funny. Aww, look at his lil pup, growing up and being all angsty about it. How cute! It becomes less cute when, after an intense argument, he's got them in a headlock because they tried to bite his nose off. Still, Leman has the opinion and belief that, the best way to work through all these developing feelings of theirs is through some good old character building. By that he means dropping in the Fenrisian wilds and letting them fend for themself for a while. Might seem a bit extreme to some but Leman did it when he was their age and he turned out just fine!

Jaghatai, while he doesn't take any disrespect, is actually quite alright with his kid growing into this phase. He understands that this is a crucial moment in their development, when they form an integral sense of self, and they can't do that if he coddles or hover over them. They need space. So, he mostly lets them run free, though he does set a clear line of boundaries that he expects them not to cross, make it clear that they are responsible for the consequences of their actions and that he wants them to still behave with dignity. That means no whining or brooding in the mess hall!

The moment Roboute realizes that his kid is entering their rebellious teen phase, he goes straight to mama Euten and papa Konor and asks them for advice. Because he tried to discipline his child after they ditched their lessons to spend time with their friends but all they did was repeat what he said with a mocking tone. It completely caught him off guard. Like, how does he respond to that? Roboute is so awkward around his kid during this period of time but he genuinely tries to understand them.

[itsacruelsummerbaby]

SCHRÖDINGER’S PLUS ONE

Aaron attends a wedding, one where you’re the maid of honor. A conversation takes your relationship to the next level.

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader || tags: dbf!Hotch, age gap || wc: 1.4k || navigation

“Will you have a plus one?”

“No.”

It’s definitely not the biggest lie he has ever said, but it’s definitely there in the top three. 

He has known the groom since he was a teenager, a stupid boy who got into trouble more often than not after his father’s cancer diagnosis, but he changed a lot for the better over the years. Since he was a family friend, one who gave legal advice to them a few times, he received an invitation.

Who else got one? You.

And God, aren’t you beautiful in that royal blue dress that hugs your body so perfectly? Aaron can’t get enough of this sight, his eyes always find you through the crowd of guests, always waiting for the moment you’re ready to look his way. 

The evening passes with him having pleasant chats with other guests, but whenever he has some time alone, he’s looking for the little imperfections of your skin that he can locate even blindfolded by now too. 

A smile appears on his lips when his brain starts replaying how your skin tasted when he kissed that small scar on your forearm the last time he had you all for himself. That scar is a reminder of your childhood play times with friends, ones he knows quite well after looking at childhood photos with you. 

If it was his choice, he would grab your hand and take you home right now, but you’re the maid of honor, which means you have to stay as long as you can. Too bad, but you promised to dance with him at least once, so he’s waiting for the right moment to approach you.

“Can I get a gin and tonic?” 

Aaron lets out a quiet laugh when he looks at you. You occupy the bar stool on his side, and only turn to him when he decides to start a conversation. “Since when do you drink gin and tonic?” he asks with a smile.

You don’t say a word, instead you return your attention to the bartender who meanwhile returns with your drink. Without even the smallest hint of hesitation, you wrap your lips around the straw to drink, causing him to gulp and shift in his chair. 

Oh, you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

Then you finally put the glass on the bar table, your fingers still holding the straw to stir the drink, all while you lean a little closer to him. “Just because you’re trying to train me to drink bourbon, it won’t make me like it. I’d rather choose this,” you add with a shrug.

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me you don’t like bourbon?” A soft sigh leaves your lips as you watch him. Of course, he knows the answer without you helping him. “You little people pleaser,” he notes with a loving smile, stopping himself last second before leaning in to kiss you.

Your head tilts to the side a little, and then you say, “Maybe I only want to please you. You’ll never know.”

“But I do know. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a profiler. I know you’re like this with everyone, but it’s okay,” he assures you as he rests his arm on the bar table, letting his fingers linger close to your hand around the glass.

“Okay, smartass, if you know me so well, tell me what I’m thinking about right now.”

“Profiler, not mind reader.” You scoff with a roll of your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the delicate curl of your lips. “But fine, which thought do you want to hear? Because I can see those bedroom eyes of yours every time you look at me, and God, I just want to kiss you and drag you home.”

You finally let go of the glass long enough to playfully slap his hand. “You and your dirty mind,” you say with a laugh, earning a few strange glances. “What’s the other thought?” 

Aaron takes a deep breath as he watches you. “You want to dance with me,” he finally tells you.

A thoughtful hum leaves you. “Not bad. And, what do you have to say about that?” you wonder, batting your eyelashes at him.

“I might kiss you on the dance floor.”

“That’s okay, everyone’s too drunk to notice or remember.”

You sound so sure of this, so confident that nothing could go wrong if you were seen together with his arms around you, that he doesn’t have the heart to say no to you. Especially since he’s been thinking about you all day, waiting for the perfect opportunity to finally talk to you. 

Nodding, he slips off the barstool and leans down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “Then let’s go dancing, shall we?” he asks with a smile and offers you his hand.

Even though he expects you to have a wide smile on your lips as you jump up, in reality you decide to play hard to get. A low, thoughtful hum escapes your throat while your finger circles around the edge of the glass. 

Shaking his head, he rests his forearm on the table to be closer to your face. “I have a pair of backup handcuffs in the car, if you don’t behave, I’ll cuff you to myself for the rest of the night,” he warns you.

“Aaron Hotchner, you should know better than to threaten me with a good time,” you respond with a wide grin.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You shrug as you finally stand up, your eyes fixed on his face. “But you love me anyway.” 

After a moment of fake thinking, he leans in to give you a quick peck on the lips. “That I do. Come on,” he says with a smile, his hand already reaching for yours. 

Holding your hand is one of the few things that can truly ground him, make him forget about the stress, the anxiety, the nightmares; everything. He fell in love with you along the way, during the year you’ve spent together. 

A part of him was ready to make things official with you, he planned a speech to convince your father not to kill him, he thought about how to introduce you to Jack as his girlfriend, and he also prepared a set of keys to his apartment for you. He wanted you to move in. He was already planning a life with you, and he knew he would talk to you about this soon.

Once on the dance floor, he puts his hands on your waist, pulling you maybe a tad closer than necessary considering officially he was just a family friend, but he couldn’t care about the consequences now. He just wanted to be with you, he wanted to enjoy these moments.

“Do you know what we are to each other tonight?” you suddenly ask him. He raises an eyebrow in question, which makes you smile. “Schrödinger’s plus one. Everybody believes we came alone, but we know we’re each other’s plus one. Because we are, right?”

Aaron let out a quiet chuckle, then followed his instincts and kissed you, this time not holding back. He couldn’t care less if the other guests saw the scene, he only wanted you, all of you, and he would be crazy if he let this chance go.

So, without thinking, he cupped your cheek and looked you in the eye. “Move in with me.” He kept a short pause to wait for your reaction, and when your eyes widened from the surprise, he only flashed a smile at you in hopes of calming your nerves. “I’m tired of hiding,” he adds to make things clear. 

“That’s… a big step. Are you sure?” you ask quietly.

He nods without thinking. “One hundred percent sure.”

There’s a short period of silence, one that soon begins to worry him. What if you say no? What if you break up with him? But why would you do that? Just a few minutes ago you looked so happy, so carefree–

“You’re overthinking again, aren’t you?” you ask with a smile, and when he nods, you gently wrap your fingers around his wrists. “I love you. If you’re ready, I’m ready too.” 

Finally, a smile creeps on his face. “I love you too, baby. You can’t even imagine how much,” he tells you, hoping you can hear the sincerity in his voice. 

Because he means it. You’re the second best thing in his life after his son, and he’s not planning to let you go anytime soon. 

[pinkteethmarks]

omg.. wait for your valentines event could you please to like frat/playboy! katsuki x soft/nerd! reader (who could also look so fucking hot and gorgeous omggg😫)

so basically they’re just at a party and katsuki finds the reader hot but doesn’t know it’s actually the reader so he goes up to them asking them their name and stuff and then he realizes he knows the reader from their classes together and also realizes he’s in love /w her 😫😫

playboy…frat boy,,,katsuki…. i’m… ugh melting. i love this man so much IM MELTINGGGG. also… aha… sorry for taking this long.. SCHOOL OS ACTUALLY KICK MY BUM BUM SIXTH FORM IS GETTING SERIOUS GUYSS!!! but i’ll put my whole attention into tasks again guys.. sorry if this is really bad lowkey think i’ve lost my sparkle for writing but dw it will come back soon!! suggestive, references to corruption kink, gender neutral reader, use of pretty, sexy, succubus (lmao). 1.1k words!

stephanie; katsuki bakugou

katsuki should be at the library with you right now, you both had agreed to go to continue doing research for the project you were assigned to do together, but katsuki had other plans.

one that involved a hell of a lot of alcohol, cheap valentines decorations and someone to… relax him for the night.

in all honesty, he was avoiding you. something weird was happening, where everytime you grazed him with your soft skin, every look you gave him with those sparkling eyes, all of it, all of you, were starting to make him feel off. as though he wanted to protect you, but also ruin you.

you’re just so delicate, everything about you is the complete opposite of him, kind, loving, gentle, sweet, something about it made him so… possessive of you.

he didn’t know when this actually started to appear, he just knew that the last time you spoke to him in class got him sweating buckets to the point where even fucking shoto (the most socially inept) realised something was off with him.

so, here he was, blowing you off and ignoring your texts to come here. alone. how fucking fun.

katsuki’s carmine eyes whisked through the crowd, trying to find someone who will help him forget all of his woe’s about you and whatever this weird feeling that was bubbling inside of him, until they landed on…you.

well, yes you, but it wasn’t like he knew it was you since you looked completely different.

you were perfect, outfit way too tight and body way too perfect. you looked down right sexy, practically like a succubus waiting to suck his soul but one that had some form of gentleness to you.

regardless, he wasn’t exactly waiting to figure you out, he just needed a quick fuck for the night to get his stress out.

and so, he began to do his signature party trick, the bump and surprise.

he began walking straight towards you, making sure that his gaze was not fixated on you but directly past you until he bumped into you from behind, causing a cute little gasp to leave your lips.

‘reminds me of yn.’ he thought to himself for a split second, quickly trying to rid himself of that thought, of you.

“huh, you bumped into me.” katsuki scoffed, pretending not to be completely flustered as you faced him because damn you looked sexier up close.

those eyes though, felt familiar, they seem to sparkle innocently as he looked at you.

“no, you bumped into me?” you responded softly despite the loud bass of the music almost drowning you out, yet his ear was trained to listen to you.

“guess i need your number so that we can sort this out later.” katsuki smirked, fishing his phone out of his pocket and handing it to you.

“you already have my number, remember? especially since you’re kinda blowing me off right now.” you pouted slightly as you sighed.

“wait, have we fucked before?” katsuki’s answered back confusingly, glancing between all the people he was blowing off right now on his phone and your face.

“what, no?! bakugou, do you not recognise me?” you scoffed.

“um, no?” katsuki gruffed out, tired of all these games. he just wanted to take you to his bed, set you down on the bed and ravage you.

“it’s me, y/n l/n?” you responded sassily, your hands on your hip as you rolled your eyes.

katsuki’s eyes widened, how, in any single universe did he approach you out of every single girl at this fucking function?

you didn’t look anything like you did in school, you were all dolled up, wore something that showed your figure and something that made you look so… fuckable.

not to say that you in school isn’t already a pretty little thing in katsuki’s eyes, but this party-look painted you in a whole different light that was intoxicating to him, dangerous even.

“there’s no way in hell, out of every girl i could’ve approached, it was.. you.” he spoke slowly.

“don’t make it sound like it’s such a terrible thing.” you cutely looked to the side, your face slightly falling.

fuck, even when you were upset you were cute as hell.

‘what the fuck is wrong with me?’ katsuki thought frustratingly.

you kept invading his mind, etched into his soul and locked into his heart. nothing ever overshadowed his constant thoughts of you and no matter how much he tried to look at other people, flirt with others and get into bed with them, he truly couldn’t because every single time, his heart would come back to you.

he fucking hated it.

but, more so, he was scared of it and thus, scared of you.

not like he would ever admit that, he’s katsuki fucking bakugou for crying out loud.

“are you ok?” you asked him.

“i.. don’t fucking know. why are you everywhere, yn? i keep.. seeing you and thinking of you.” katsuki responded, his blush intensifying.

“what.. are you trying to say bakugou?” you looked confused.

“call me katsuki.” katsuki looked to the side, his face almost completely red now.

“ok, katsuki, what are you trying to say?” you asked once more.

ok, that was a mistake, if katsuki was flustered before, now he was completely ruined hearing his first name leave your pretty lips.

“i.. don’t know. it’s valentine’s day or whatever and for some reason the universe brought us together right now so, take a fucking guess.” katsuki scoffed.

“you want me?” you said excitedly, smiling widely as your once unattainable crush seemed to finally feel within your reach.

“depends on what your answer, damn it, katsuki bakugou does not get rejected.” his confidence was now increasing as he saw how elated you were at the prospect of being with him.

“only if you ask me properly.” you teased.

“fucks sake, ok, yn l/n, these past few project meetings had me feeling a type of way i never knew i could feel. you’re gorgeous, and i think now i realise that you aren’t only cute but sexy as fuck. not just that though, you’re kind, you’re smart, you have a hell of a lot of resilience and will power, all in all, you are the dream person for me. so, will you like, be my fucking valetines or something?” katsuki smirked

“yes!” you squealed, running to wrap your arms around his extremely toned torso.

katsuki was slightly surprised, of course he had been touched before - a hell of a lot of times actually - but, this hug you gave him just felt different. a lot more personal and intimate, oddly enough, he loved it all the same.

“you smell so good.” you sighed, immediately pausing as embarrassment flushes your entire being.

“is that so? wanna see how good i smell without these clothes on?” katsuki smirked.

“we just got together! also, i need you to promise me something.” you rolled your eyes yet your tone changed to something more sincere.

“yeah?”

“that you’ll stop with kissing all these other girls.” you sighed.

“kissing- honey, i do a lot more than kiss-“

“don’t wanna hear it! just want you to promise me you’ll stop.” you put your palm up to signify that you wanted him to stop.

“i promise.” katsuki replied, looking straight into your eyes, all that the present was warmth, kindness and love.

katsuki was new to this but he would definitely try, anything for you.

[nitadllyss]

The wrong pill.

Plot: Han takes a pill for his training, not realizing it’s viagra—let alone on the day he was going to see you.

Genre:smut, nsfw, Erotic Romance, PWP.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, use of Viagra, sex under its influence, oral sex (m!receiving), no condom use, semen, penetration (m/f), praise, etc.

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

Han had been fighting hard with the staff to be able to show off his body and tattoos. For this reason, he was preparing physically with great dedication. He never skipped a day at the gym, and it was obvious how much more muscular he had gotten.

He was now getting ready to train with Changbin. They were at his house, since Han had stayed over the night before; it had been too late for him to return home. To prepare his pre-workout shake, he used Changbin's stuff.

"Where do you have the creatine?" Han asked while rummaging through the drawer where Changbin kept his supplements.

"They are the transparent capsules" Changbin answered, focused on making his own pre-workout shake.

Han took his shake followed by the corresponding pills.

Everything was going well during the training. He was really satisfied with the results he was getting. For him, gaining muscle was easier, so in a short time he could already notice a noticeable difference.

As he was training, his alarm went off to remind him to take his intra-workout pill. He was committed to getting good and fast results, so he never missed a dose of vitamins or supplements.

“Hey, Bin, do you have any intra-workout pills?” Han asked, a little worried when he realized he hadn’t brought any.

“I think there’s L-Carnitine in my bag. Check it out and take one,” Changbin said, pointing to his gym bag.

Han walked over, opened the bag, and saw a mess of pills. Changbin definitely needed to be more organized. He assumed it was one of the white capsules, so he wasn’t too careful when taking one.

About 40 minutes later, after finishing his workout, he headed home. He was excited because he would see you today. They were having a sleepover. They weren’t a couple or anything, just best friends… although Han had been in love with you forever.

As he arrived, he started to feel strange. He was sweatier than usual, and as he looked in the mirror, he noticed his neck and ears were red. He brushed it off and went to take a shower, making sure he looked good for when you arrived.

After getting ready, however, he noticed that his face was still red, his heart was racing, and most worryingly… he had an erection. And it wasn't a regular one.

He didn't understand why, but his erection was strong and persistent.

Just as he was trying to do something to disguise it, he heard a knock on the door. He felt a chill in his chest and his nervousness increased.

When he opened it, there you were, looking cute and radiant as always. But something was different. He no longer noticed how pretty your makeup or hair looked. He could only focus his attention on how your breasts stood out under the neckline of your blouse and how juicy your thighs looked under your skirt.

"Hey!" you greeted, smiling, and went over to hug him, like you always did.

"Hey, babe" he replied playfully, using the nickname he used to call you.

You smiled at him and walked into his house.

"I'm sorry if I look all dressed up, I just got back from an outing with friends. Could you lend me some comfortable clothes to sleep in?"

He felt his erection throb as he heard that. Just imagining you in his clothes was driving him crazy.

"Ah… yeah, yeah, I'll be right back," he stammered, hurrying to his room. He looked for one of his shirts and, upon returning, handed it to you.

You changed without a problem, leaving you only with the shorts that you were wearing under your skirt.

"Thanks, Ji," you said, turning around to show him how his clothes looked on you.

Was he drooling? He wasn't sure, but he was literally mesmerized by the way your breasts were poking out from under his shirt. He was going to lose control.

"Come on, let's find the movie," you said, sitting next to him on the couch and resting your head on his shoulder as he browsed through the options.

You picked a horror movie, his favorites. Han hoped it would distract him from you, but every time you freaked out and came closer, his erection throbbed harder. It had even started to hurt.

After a while, you went to the bathroom. When you came back, you froze.

Han was on the couch, rubbing the bulge in his pants, panting softly.

"Ha-Han?" you asked, approaching him cautiously. It was then that you noticed the wet spot on his clothes.

"Mmh… I'm s-sorry…" he mumbled, throwing his head back, unable to keep his hands away from his crotch.

"Han, wtf?", you said, a bit embarrassed, not fully understanding the situation.

"Please don't be mad… I don't know what's wrong with me, but it hurts so much…" he whispered with his eyes closed, wishing the earth would swallow him up.

Just then his cell phone rang. It was Changbin.

"Bro, I think you took one of my viagra pills. That, or one went missing… I hope it doesn't cause you too much trouble."

"Are you kidding me?" Han almost screamed. "Why the hell would you have that in your bag? Ahg, it would kill you!" He hung up the call, frustrated.

Now everything made sense. At least for him.

You, on the other hand, were still standing in front of him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Han looked up and let out a gasp as he watched you fix your eyes on his erection. His face flushed with embarrassment and he quickly placed a cushion on his lap.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered, feeling like crying from both the shame and the pain in his pants.

"Don't worry... I'll leave so you can, uh... fix that..." you said, looking away, your cheeks flushing.

"Please... stay..." he asked almost in a plea.

You hesitated for a second, but seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel a little sorry. And what was worse... you felt the wetness in your underwear since you noticed his bulge.

Han grunted as he felt you approach and pressed the cushion harder against himself.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, curious. You didn’t know if his gasps were from pain or pleasure.

“A lot…” he closed his eyes, rubbing himself more desperately.

You bit your lip. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Would you...want me to help you?"

Han felt his breath hitch.

“You don’t have to… I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…” but his hips contradicted his words. Not to mention the way his cock thrashed around in his pants.

But instead of answering, you placed a hand on top of his and pulled the cushion off his lap.

“I want to do it,” you whispered before leaning in and devouring his lips.

You could feel him holding back in the kiss, making hesitant movements, so you went deeper, mixing your tongues and sitting on top of his lap.

He couldn't help but growl into your mouth, the firmness with which he held your hips applying pressure having that slight relief that at the same time made him thirsty for more.

They got lost in the messy kiss, Han was already more confident and in control of the situation. As he pulled away he bit your lower lip in an attempt to chase you.

"Han~" you began to move your hips in circles, enjoying how his body reacted, feeling him so firm under you.

Han was so lost, he felt very high.

He was drowning in your neck, licking and biting every trace of visible skin.

"Han wait" you pulled away from the addictive sensation of his hot and wet tongue on your skin.

"Do you want to stop?" He said a little worried and disappointed, leaving a little space.

"No, I just want to make you feel good" you smiled and gave him a chaste kiss leaving him stunned.

You climbed off his lap and knelt in front of him.

You gave his thigh a caress before pulling down his fly. Seeing the wet spot on his underwear made your mouth water. You gave his clothed cock a kiss and then a lick.

Han's hands clenching the couch, his white knuckles trying not to fuck your mouth madly.

You pulled his underwear down along with his pants to his ankles and felt the saliva pooling in your mouth.

His tanned cock with its red head very sensitive. It was shiny from the precum that bathed it excessively.

With your thumb you touched the slit of his head probing a little. You smiled at the gasps from him.

"Ahh~ Y/N don't play" he clenched his jaw a bit desperately.

You gave him a kitten lick along his length and then swirled around his tip, you felt that with so little he was close to his release.

You started jerking him off with your hands, mixing your licks and squeezes.

Han was literally struggling not to cum and that started to bother you. You took him in your mouth, sucking lightly and making a mess of saliva and his fluids.

“You look so cute like this,” he said, totally pleased by the way your chin was disgustingly dripping with saliva. His duality made you clench your legs, minutes ago he was all whiny begging like a bitch and the tone he let out was so different.

You let out a moan and took him deeper, making yourself gag.

"Mmh you like being good for me? I'm sure you were drooling seeing me hard" he put a hand on your head, gathering your hair in a handful.

You rolled your eyes and moaned again, not quite understanding if it was his tone that caused it or the simple fact of being him.

"You feel so fucking good, you have a very skilled little mouth" he threw his head back growling at your gasps.

Determined to make him cum you forced your poor throat accompanying with your hands squeezing and massaging his balls.

You felt his cock move in your mouth.

"Mmh Y/N w-wait" he tried to stop your movements, but you only stood firmer, watching him stagger was everything.

Out of instinct he pressed your head towards him, betrayed by his pleasure seeking body.

Then after a few more seconds he cum in your mouth with many thick loads straight to your throat.

The growl followed by a pornographic moan was beautiful. He threw his head back and let go of your head.

"Was it good?" You said smiling licking your cum stained corners.

"It was literally amazing" he smirked and covering his eyes with his arm.

"Thanks Y/N" he said looking at you and caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You snuggled into his hand lovingly until you saw him frown.

"What? You're still hard? How is that possible" you said stunned, he was still rock hard AFTER CUMMING.

"It's not really something I can help" he grimaced.

"It's a good thing" you said standing up.

"Hmm?" Han said confused looking at you.

"It would really be a shame if you left me wanting to fuck, I really appreciate that pill" you said biting your lip and pulling down your shorts along with your underwear.

Han followed your movements attentively, as if he was bewitched by your charm. Seeing your underwear on the floor he let out a gasp at the visible stain of arousal you had left.

"You're needy aren't you?" He smiled shamelessly as if it wasn't his cock that had been erect for over an hour.

He took off his shirt showing his tattoos, you had already seen them, but seeing them together with his needy cock is something different.

You followed his steps and undressed completely, he stretched out his hand, in a quick movement he left you on your knees on the couch, your face against the couch and your ass completely exposed to his mercy.

"I promise that after this I will take the time to adore you as you deserve" he said in your ear followed by a kiss on your cheek.

You felt your heart flutter.

"But now I'm going to use you however I want" he ran his tongue disgustingly across your cheek, dirtyly erasing the tender kiss he had left.

He took your moan as consent and positioned himself behind you.

"So cute, willing to help me even if she has to give me her body" he smacked your ass with his hard cock making you gasp. He bit his lip to stop himself from moaning.

He spit on your entrance and without preparation pushed the tip in stretching you deliciously.

You both let out a gasp, the desire that was there making the pleasure double.

"You're so tight" he pushed himself in a little further and you could only moan begging for him to bottom out.

When he reached his base you arched your back and threw your head back.

"You're being so good for me" he began to give slow but deep thrusts.

"You don't know how many times I masturbated imagining having you like this for me" he growled.

In response you moaned and clenched around him.

He put his hand on your head pushing hard against the couch and began to penetrate you faster and harder.

You just moaned with each thrust totally lost in the way you felt every inch of his cock in your insides, the pain of his grip on your head making it even more pleasurable. You were completely at his mercy.

He put his other hand on your hip, helping him thrust more violently, moaning and grunting at how close his climax felt.

And before he had a chance to pull out of you, he cum deeply.

Feeling his hot cum fill you and his grunt you joined him in the climax moaning and clenching yourself choking his member against your rubbery walls now painted white.

You were so exhausted you could only gasp waiting for him to pull out.

He was still buried deep appreciating the warmth of your shared orgasms.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't want to..." he said, still without leaving you.

It's like his brain works, but his body has control.

"Calm down, actually, I liked it" you said trying to get over the climb.

He withdrew from you slowly, making you feel every inch you were losing. When he pulled out completely he admired your stretched entrance dripping with your mixed fluids.

"Are you okay?" He came back to reality and approached your face to check.

" It was so good" you said smiling and a bit sleepy "so you masturbated thinking about me? That's interesting" you laughed mockingly.

"Shut up, there's no need to repeat that" he was blushing as if you hadn't fucked two minutes ago.

You lay down and looked at him a little worried about what would happen to you after that.

"Can we leave that talk for later?" Literally as if he had read your thoughts.

"What needs to be done now?" You said, not understanding why he was putting off the talk.

You then saw him turn bright red and look down at his cock. He was hard again.

This was going to be a long sleepover.

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

English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know 🙏🏻.

I need more practice writing smuts :((

I have several Chan fics waiting to be reviewed before posting 🤭.

If you have any requests, send them💞.

[artstennisracket]

HEEEAARRR ME OUTTT

size queen! art donaldson

oh anon I hear you LOUD and CLEAR. this was easy because Patrick does have a big dick (Tashi confirmed). i had so much fun writing this so I hope you have fun reading :)

cw: big dick energy LMAO, throat training of sorts, dirty talk

Art could describe his sex life in a lot of ways. Fun is the first word that comes to mind, but lately it’s been more like…boring.

Ever since him and Patrick starting hooking up last semester, Art has realized that when Patrick’s on tour, Art tries to fill the Patrick shaped hole in his life with meaningless hookups. And at first that was fun.

Sleeping with different guys and girls, hooking up at parties, drinking, smoking, all that fun stuff. But lately Art’s been feeling less and less fulfilled, specifically with his guy hookups. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Until last night when he was hooking up with this guy (Taylor or Tanner? he can’t remember) in his dorm. Once the guy had pushed in and bottomed out, Art felt underwhelmed. It wasn’t that Taylor/Tanner had a small dick, maybe it just wasn’t big enough.

Long after Art had kicked Taylor/Tanner out of his room for the night, he gets a text from Patrick at 1am, gonna be there tomorrow, can i crash at yours?

Art has a smile on his face as he texts back, and what if I said no

p: then id say i will fuck that attitude right out of you

a: in your dreams old man

p: that’s not what you said last time, it was more along the lines of “fuck me please don’t stop”while you moaned like a girl

a: whatever 😒

Art shuts his phone off going to lay down for the night and that’s when it hit him. Sex has been boring lately with men specifically because no one’s dick is as big as Patrick’s. Art tried not be a size queen and give everyone a fair shot but he definitely preferred dicks on the bigger end of the spectrum. Patrick was the biggest dick he has ever been with and he’s not mad at that fact. Nothing really compares to the feeling of being split in half on Patrick’s cock.

He quite enjoys the burn and stretch he feels when Patrick pushes into him for the first time. Or the inescapable gagging and choking when Patrick fucks his mouth, forcing Art to deep throat. But he can never fit it all in his mouth anyway. Patrick’s dick was long but also very girthy. Fuck.

Art can feel his own dick peaking interest from his line of thinking. He tries to focus on something else so he can go to sleep so tomorrow can come faster and then Patrick can fuck him properly.

…

When Art gets back to his dorm later the next day he finds Patrick already inside seated on his bed, wearing only boxers and a t-shirt.

“how did you—?” Art questions dropping his backpack in the floor by his desk.

Patrick smirks as he shrugs, “i have my ways”

Honestly Art doesn’t even care how he got in but he’s happy he’s here. Art wastes no time going to straddle Patrick’s lap, pulling Patrick into a heated make out session.

Art can feel Patrick’s growing interest underneath him (literally) and grinds down on Patrick. Patrick sneaks his hand into the back of Art’s shorts, slowly pushing his finger into Art’s hole.

“ah—missed you, missed this,” Art mumbles into Patrick’s mouth.

Patrick adds another finger, pulling away from the kiss so he can watch Art grind desperately on his fingers. Fuck, he’s so fucking hot. “stanford boys not doing it for you?” He smirks.

Art shakes his head no, “no, fuck, not even close.”

“why don’t you show me just how much you missed my cock baby,” Patrick responds pulling his fingers out.

Art smiles climbing off of Patrick’s. He goes to lay down on his back, with his head hanging off the side of the bed.

Patrick raises an eyebrow. He smirks as he stands up, “is that what you want?”

Art bites his lip looking at Patrick as best he could from his position before he says, “you already know the answer to that question.”

Patrick glides his tip against Art’s lips smearing his pre-cum, “dirty, dirty boy.”

Art sticks his tongue out to lap up the rest of the pre-cum on Patrick’s tip before he opens his mouth up to let Patrick in.

Patrick takes his time pressing deep into Art’s throat, watching Art’s throat bulge, “fuck” Patrick whispers under his breath before he starts fucking Art’s throat.

Art tries to keep his throat relaxed because he wants to see if he can take more of Patrick than he did last time, but once Patrick starts thrusting down his throat all bets are off.

Patrick moans, “there you go, taking me so well baby fuck.”

Between all the noises Art’s making choking on his cock, his balls slapping against Art’s face, and watching his cock go in and out of Art’s mouth Patrick can feel himself getting close so he pulls out.

Art sits up, swallowing all the spit that’s accumulated in his mouth. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand before he starts shedding the rest of his clothes, “need you to fuck me, please”

Patrick takes off the rest of clothes before he lays Art on his back, positioning himself between Art’s legs, “how bad do you need it? tell me,” Patrick smirks before leaning down to kiss up Art’s neck.

Art knows that Patrick just wanted him to feed into his ego but Art was too horny to care at this point. “need you to fuck me so bad, want you to split me open on your cock,” Art whines.

Patrick lines himself up with Art’s hole, teasingly tapping his cock against it, “yeah? missed my big cock stretching out your tight hole?”

Art nods. He’s growing impatient, “yes so can you please just do what you said you would do and fuck—”

Art is cut off by Patrick shoving himself in and bottoming out. Art lets out an egregious moan, just short of a scream, “ah ah- yes fuck please, need your fat cock yes”

Patrick picks up the pace of his thrusts, drilling into Art, “these stanford boys weren’t fucking you properly hm?” Art shakes his head no because Patrick is right, none of them seemed to satisfy him the way that Patrick does.

Patrick smirks, “they dont know how much a greedy cockslut you are, just want the biggest dick possible huh?”

Art nods again moving his hand down to start stroking his own cock.

“tell me how much you love my cock baby,” Patrick grunts out, making sure to punctuate every other word with a particularly hard thrust.

Art is rambling at this point. He’s so close and Patrick knows it too, “i fucking love your cock so much fuck, think about it all the time, everyday, just want you to fuck me all the time, fills me up good, nobody fucks me as good as you- oh fuck i’m gonna cum.” Art spills over his fist and his tummy.

Patrick grabs Art’s hips and starts thrusting faster before he spills inside of him. Hearing Art say all those things really got him going but he wondered if it was true.

He pulls out and grabs a rag to clean them both up. “did you mean what you said?” Patrick questions lying down next to Art on his bed.

Art half smiles letting out a breath, “maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” He shrugs, he wasn’t going to feed into Patrick’s ego anymore, he already got what he wanted (to be fucked).

Patrick scoffs shoving Art playfully, “so you’re saying I’m not the biggest dick you’ve been with?”

Art rolls his eyes. He knows Patrick won’t let this go without an answer. “are you the biggest dick Tashi’s ever been with?” He smirks.

Patrick smiles letting out a chuckle, “i think so yeah.” Tashi’s actually only ever slept with one other person besides Patrick and that was the guy who took her virginity. He’s almost 100% sure that his dick is bigger than that other guy, I mean his dick is bigger than 95% of the population.

Art starts to close his eyes, getting ready to take a nap, “well then there’s your answer.”

[gayaest]

Hey, so I mean this entirely in good faith and just want to see where you're coming from.

When you draw pictures of people (OC), why do you only list their name, age, disabilities, and race (and some other stuff sometimes)? not likes or interests or hobbies or a look into their life? Is there somewhere else for me to find out more?

Personally, I don't find those to be the most interesting things about a character or a person or an object or anything like that, and I don't typically base characters around it (not saying you do, just not sure why else they take precidence over other aspects of their character)

I love your art and hope youu have a nice day!

I’ll try to answer this in the best way possible, but my wording might be off because I am more ill than usual, so bare with me.

1. Experiences with creating Original Characters is not a monolith — what you like to do with characters may not be what another creator likes to do with them. Some people never make backstories for their characters and keep them mainly for designs. Some people like to create backstories, and both of these things can exist and are okay. What you personally find interesting isn’t the same for everyone.

Even if I do have backstories for many of my characters, not all of them are even close to finished yet or even fully fleshed out, I often start with basics and go from there. If you are interested in the backstories of my characters, I have a toyhouse in which I post them.

2. Race, Culture, Age and Disability is a huge part of a lot of people’s lives, I can attest to that for myself. A lot of what I put down as “descriptors” for my characters are for people to get the absolute “bare bones” of who this character is, kind of like a bio on social media. It may not personally interest you, but Culture is a huge aspect on how people develop and think, the way people grow up and who they are around influence their thoughts, likes, dislikes, career, life choices and more. I find that many people from different cultures are often very happy at the representation of their culture being present if done respectfully, and causes a lot of happiness to feel seen.

I have a particular interest in researching humans, cultures, disabilities and diversity. You don’t have to have those interests, the same way I don’t particularly have to have an interest in “likes vs dislikes” of a character.

It would concern me if someone doesn’t care about peoples race or ethnicity, the same way it concerns me when a white person says “well, I don’t see color”, it erases the diverse experience of being human. It erases culture, experience, struggle and more. A lot of POC, myself included, find solace in knowing someone may understand a specific experience of what it’s like growing up a certain way. That we are not alone in our struggles.

And this all relates to Disability as well. Able-bodied people are not going to understand the life of a disabled person they haven’t lived in. Growing up disabled, becoming disabled later in life, in general /being/ disabled is a different way of life than the average person. We have struggles and experiences not everyone can relate to — which means by sharing this in a description of a character — it can actually tell a lot about what they’ve been through and understand.

Other disabled people may not understand what life is like for another disabled person — I have had numerous asks and messages by other disabled people and able-bodied people alike telling me they are happy to see representation of a specific disability, or that they discovered a disability through my artwork and they were able to research it or even apply it to their medical training. This is a huge reason for why I do what I do.

I’m glad this is a question in good faith — Thank you for liking my art, and i hope you have a good day as well.

If you have anymore questions, I have an FAQ:

[bonefall]

you mentioned at one point that skyclan considered being a parent a positive trait for clerics, does that mean that cleric training starts older in skyclan , maybe a couple years after warriors training is do ne, or is

(Politely watches anon attempt to finish the ask while they're tripping over an unexpected rock or perhaps being accosted by a bee)

Clerics in SkyClan are allowed to have families while serving, but it's actually preferred that they've lived a full life before even starting their medical training! If you asked a random SkyClan cat, they'd say that it makes total sense when you think of it logically;

"What's the sense in having a Cleric with no life experience?"

It's fine and dandy to know how to make a treatment, but what's the good in medicine that the patient won't take? Why would you entrust your life to someone who's never been responsible for other people? Imagine training a medic for years and years with drills and pop quizzes, only for them to freeze with fear in the middle of a real life disaster!

Heavens, no! Better to honor a clever, reliable adult warrior with the privilege. Having had kittens of their own before is evidence of their maturity.

That's not to say they "encourage" Clerics to have kittens while serving, though. In truth, it's a teeny bit frowned upon, especially if you're acting as the kitten's Mi. They hit you with the Worried Politeness.

"Ohh, are you sure it's the best time...?"

"I admire you, if I had that many responsibilities I could never cope."

"Have you considered who will be the Mi? It's never too early to talk about it."

It's a very mild stigma, more "annoying" than damaging, and easily overcome with enough social capital. It's the kind of bias that walks alongside legitimate practical concerns.

To answer the question directly;

SkyClan Cleric training typically starts later in life.

From the "pool" of candidates, cats who have had kittens are HIGHLY sought after.

You may still chose to expand your family while serving, if you want.

Being the primary responsible parent (Mi) of a litter while serving as a Cleric is discouraged. There's an unspoken expectation that those days are behind you.

That said-- It's not that big a deal if you're popular, supported by a co-parent, and considered mature.

For BB, I'm making a push that Fidgetflake is actually "let go" from his Cleric apprenticeship once there's enough older cats to fill the den. He's told that he can come back, but first, he should live a life in this new home to bring wisdom to his role in the future.

(When I get around to making a Version 2 of SkyClan's family tree, Fidgetflake will probably end up with kits as a result! Boy successfully sent to the club)

It's also VERY likely that BB!Alderheart ends up in SkyClan as one of its Clerics. It feels too perfect.

The only thing holding me back is Frecklewing (conflict renamed SkyClan Frecklewish). She supports the Kin in their coup of SkyClan, but I do want her to eventually return to the Clans, and three cats in the Cleric den (Echosong is sticking around longer, Leafstar is not) is a lot.

Maybe Frecki will go to ThunderClan lmaoo. The only place left that will take her. "BETRAYED CLAN WILL HEAL 4 FOOD"

[rimatsu]

WIP Word Game

rules: you will be given a word. then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word

tagged by my idol @newtkelly for the word DAWN thank you muahhhh <3

i went with longer excerpts because i'm a yapper

-

D: “[D]on’t you dare,” Evan hisses, shoulders going tense with something akin to indignation, and Tommy recoils in a reflexive flinch at the sharp tone, unfamiliar and stinging like a zap of electricity.

There’s a muscle twitching in his jaw, Evan’s expression hardened into something firm and foreign and angry, an emotion that doesn’t quite suit his face, usually sweet and plump like a berry.

That familiar weight settles over Tommy’s chest again, adrenaline flooding his system, instinctive and self-preservative. His lizard brain demands that he turns around and gets the fuck out of here — a simple animal urge to run — but his feet stay rooted to the ground like a tree grown in well-drained soil, exposed to Evan’s ire with no protective gear to reduce the impact.

Suddenly the air is thinner, deoxygenated and harder to breathe, and Tommy feels mildly hypoxic the way he does in high altitude with his hand wrapped around a cyclic.

“Don’t insult me by implying I fell for some illusion like an idiot,” Evan continues, merciless. “I wanted the guy who fought a wildfire all night and still showed up to my sister’s wedding. I wanted the guy who took care of me when I busted my shoulder and the guy who humored me when I planned a funeral for a centuries old skeleton. Don’t you dare tell me that guy doesn’t exist.”

A: [A] breeze rustles the branches overhead. The sunlight that filters through the leaves casts a dappled pattern on Evan’s face. It makes his hair shimmer like threads of gold, painting him over in warm tones. It’s nearly enough to conceal the worrying pallor of his flesh. Under this lighting, his eyes are the blue of a frozen lake, fragile and cracked, unfocused and utterly terrified.

Another wet, gurgling sound escapes Evan’s mouth as he struggles to draw air into his lungs, lips parted wide open like a hooked fish.

Tommy’s hand is trembling where it’s clamped tight around his throat, his own vision getting narrow and kaleidoscopic, two decades of professional calm melting into blank panic. The bleeding is so profuse his palm can't stem the flow, fluid of life staining their skins and their clothes and the pavement bright red. Fear strikes Tommy’s heart like a spear. There’s no forgetting what EMT training has imparted upon him: a fatal hemorrhage is a matter of minutes following a ruptured carotid artery.

W: [W]ith a few long strides, he closes the distance between them to peer at Tommy through the fine brush of his pale lashes, lips pursed just so, sweet and enticing. That's his let's-butter-up-this-poor-sucker look, tried and true.

Tommy scowls at him in defiance. Not discouraged one bit, Evan shuffles even closer, winding both arms around his neck.

"Well? What do you think?" he prompts, eager for an answer.

"I think this is very sudden," Tommy says with a pointed look, one he hopes telegraphs ‘have you learned nothing from the past’, but he supposes what is bred in the bone will always come out in the flesh. "Most people ease into the topic over time."

"I’m not most people," Evan dismisses. "And I think I've been admirably patient."

N: “[N]o. He’s like herpes,” Tommy laments into his drink. “No matter what I do to get rid of him, he keeps showing up.”

Beside him, Benson snorts. “You got a real way with words, Kinard.”

“Yeah, I’m a poet alright. That’s how I get all the boys,” he says miserably.

-

no pressure tags: @trombonechurchill @sad-girl-hours23 @harmless-variety-of-garden-snake @beefcakekinard @bisexualbrainrots @rcmclachlan @setmeatopthepyre if you feel so inclined, my word is EDGE 🫶

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. cw: alcohol mentioned, mild hurt/comfort, he refers to reader by the nickname sunshine. established relationship, making up after a fight. | wc 1.8k, reading time: ~7 minutes.

“What on earth is he caterwauling about?”

Lady barely makes the effort to look up and greet you from her perch at the dark marble countertop of the bar, choosing to simply raise a brow and snort fairly humorlessly. 

“I honestly assumed it was over you. Are you two not fighting?”

Your usual spot, situated almost exactly halfway between Devil May Cry and the archive where you spend your daytime hours, is filled with its usual smoky haze. Music from karaoke and the jukebox become one, creating a cacophony when they combine with the various conversations from the groups clustered around the crowded room. 

It’s a lot. It’s even worse when you don’t have Dante chattering in your ear the entire time to drown out the rest of the awful noise. 

Sliding down beside her, bar stool swinging slightly as you do, you lean in close to find some semblance of privacy. Not that anyone could hear you over your boyfriend’s version of some down tempo rock song that was popular when the two of you were younger. 

That’s where half of the racket is coming from. Boy is he making a show of it. 

It may be a ridiculous sight but it’s tugging at your heartstrings. You don’t want him to see you wearing the pinched eyebrow expression that always indicates you’re feeling pity. Dante doesn’t want to be pitied. Ever. Unfortunately at this very second it’s hard to do anything but. 

Wincing, you consider where to begin. “I mean, not really but…” is where you land but it comes to a quick stop as soon as your companion shakes her head in response. 

“Just say yes.” She sighs, now turning to look at you with a disappointed frown. “If you have to start with a caveat the answer is yes and fuck, stop hiding behind me if you aren’t going to do a decent job at it.”

You drop the pity expression and pick up a frustrated one instead, switching them out by dropping just one brow and keeping the other raised.  “I’m not hiding, I just don’t want him to see me yet.”

Lady shakes her head incredulously, reaching to the side to grab her drink again and finish the last of the amber liquid. She’s going to need a lot more than liquid courage to make it through the night if the drama gets any worse. 

“Okay. Well, apparently he doesn’t want anyone to see him because he doesn’t think that they’ll understand if this song choice is being used to send a message.”

Groaning, you use your heel to spin the stool around so that you’re fully facing Lady. 

“Fine. Alright, yes. We got into a little itty bitty tiny disagreement and I was coming by to check on him.”

She stares down at you flatly, picking up her drink and taking a sip while you look around the bar wondering when he will notice you arrived. There’s no way he hasn’t at the very least smelled you, astute as his nose is. The brunette laughs, unable to hold it back any longer. There are a lot of ways to avoid admitting when you were wrong and she thought she’d heard them all from Dante but it appears that you have a few to teach her. 

It’s even more oddly pathetic to watch you wait for him to notice that you’ve arrived. It seems you’re only bold when you aren’t put in time out. 

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”

Fortunately for you, he noticed. Both you and Lady turn toward him, his hands buried in his pockets while he approaches with a frown.

“Hi.” Your reply is soft; barely a sound at all. 

There’s a smile on your face but your eyes are intentionally sheepishly trained at the ground. If there were any doubt left in Lady’s mind that you were very much in the wrong, it disappears. The instant change in demeanor gives you away. 

It’s not her pleasure to leave or anything but she’s more than happy to walk away, sliding off of the stool and slipping between the two of you to escape just like she has a thousand times before. 

“Even if you are mad at her, that wasn’t very nice.” She whispers from the side of her mouth and elbows Dante in the ribs on her way by, headed to the other end of the bar to give the two of you some privacy and get a refill for herself and the man of the hour.

Now that her stool is vacant, Dante takes her place happily and leans forward so that he’s almost eye level with you.

“I’m not mad at you.”

It doesn’t matter if he actually is or not, you know what you have to do. 

Swallowing thickly, you keep your eyes parked toward your hands and only occasionally steal glances up through your lashes. You’re buying yourself amnesty, you hope, and his blue eyes don’t seem as hard as they were a few days ago when they finally meet yours.

“You were right. I don’t take my safety seriously enough.”

A smirk comes across his handsome face. If you were less remorseful right now, eaten up with guilt and concern that your pushing may have been too far this time, you’d reach up and pinch his cheek to dissuade him from being arrogant. 

Honestly, he sort of deserves to gloat right now. It isn’t common that he is the one getting the apology. 

You’re the perfect one, he’s the fuck up, it’s the way it has always been. Of course you’d hate it if you knew he felt that way so that sad little tidbit stays locked up and hidden inside him, a knife he turns inward every time the two of you are apart. This little tiff has been eating him up since three evenings ago. You commanded him to leave, tearfully mumbling that he’d made you feel like he doesn’t believe in you.

He has definitely been hurting. Aching, even. Tossing and turning and wondering when you’d realize that he believes in you more than anything and that’s why he is so preoccupied with your safety. There may come a time when he won’t be able to be the shield between you and anyone who would hurt you, a horrifying reality. 

So getting you to admit he was right? A victory has never tasted so sweet.

A satisfied sigh leaves him and he tilts his head to the side, pristine white strands of hair falling over his eyes. 

“Say that again?”

Biting your lower lip, you attempt to hide the smile that is blooming before his very eyes.

“Which part?”

He smiles back at you, leaning in closer and pressing the tip of his nose against yours.

“You know which part.”

Inhaling deeply, you keep your eyes trained on his and reach for both of his hands. 

You don’t lock your fingers together as you usually do, choosing instead to hold just his fingertips between your own. It gives him a way to get out of it if he doesn’t want you touching him although you have a feeling he isn’t even close to as mad as he’s pretending to be. There’s something far more simplistic to this touch than many others you’ve shared - almost chaste, this is your confessional. 

“You were right, Dante.” 

He folds your hands up in his and messily weaves your fingers together. You smile, wrinkling your nose just the way he likes.

“I was upset and you know I’m headstrong and opinionated and...” you trail off and shake your head. “Sorry. I’m really sorry for getting so angry at you for only trying to care about me.”

“Listen to me. It’s not that I don’t believe in you it’s that your magic is —”

Smiling sadly, you butt in. “Questionable, just like the rest of me. I know.”

“No. No.” He cups your face between big palms, thumbs smoothing over the apples of your cheeks. “It’s a work in progress. You have me, you have all those books, you will figure it all out. Until then, pay better attention. I’m tired of seeing you getting followed home.”

The fight happened because one, Dante was following you - something you’ve asked him several times not to do. It’s not that you don’t want him around but you’d rather walk by his side, hand in hand and swinging your hands between you. And two, you were indeed followed home and had no idea anyone was behind you.

The downside of working in the dark arts is that you can sometimes attract some shady attention. Dante knows this, Lady and Trish know this, everyone seems to have figured out and accepted it besides you - the bookworm who is always in her own little world. He confronted you, you reacted poorly and took it as an insult, and the rest is several lonely evenings worth of history.

Someday you’ll be able to defend yourself. You'll know the spells you need to know and the natural instincts will make your fingertips twitch and sparkle with magic on demand instead of at unpredictable intervals. Until that day comes, you just have to be aware. 

You’re working on it, you swear.

Daring to let your smile grow a little bigger, you soften your gaze up through your lashes.

“So you aren’t mad?”

You know you’re off the hook when he softens completely, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. 

“A little temperamental for a couple days but no, not mad.”

His warm breath fans over your face, a feeling you missed more than you are ready to admit aloud. You giggle, scooting to the edge of your seat, sticking your legs between his and resting your feet against the base of his stool. Big hands naturally find your waist, sliding down to settle on your hips.

Satisfied with how close the two of you now are, you settle and shoot him with that pinched brow look of pity. “Then what was the deal with that song?”

Dante scoffs, squeezing your hips.

“You know me - I’m a romantic, sunshine. Felt a little lost without my girl and wanted to get it off my chest.”

Snorting, you finally reach up and pinch his cheek between your index finger and thumb.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Raising a brow in response, he presses his forehead to yours and smirks.

“Yet you keep coming back.”

“Oh my god, will you two get on with this already?” Lady spits, glaring at you two out of the corner of her eye upon her return to the bar, drinks in hand. “It’s making me sick to watch.”

If your friend was attempting to hide her exaggeration, she’s doing a poor job. A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips, arms folded over her chest. Stealing the briefest glance in her direction, you smile back before leaning toward Dante and accepting his forgiveness in the form of a whiskey flavored tongue and the only lips you wanna hang upon ever again.

[bewarethegrim]

Roy and Jamie would absolutely accidentally fall into a total power exchange relationship without noticing. One day after 4am training, Roy, without thinking, tells Jamie "The blue headband." And without hesitation Jamie picks the blue headband from his collection that has gathered at Roy's.

And it's the little things, right? Roy is already in charge of Jamie's meal plan, so it just makes sense that he cook for Jamie, since he knows his nutrition plan better than anyone. Roy is already training Jamie privately in the mornings, and with his new role as assistant coach, it just made sense that he paid a bit of extra attention to Jamie and his workouts, and Jamie was known to overwork himself, so it just made sense that Jamie only work out while Roy was around, watching him to make sure he didn't over do it.

And one day on their day off, and Ruth had just picked up Phoebe who'd just spent the day playing in the yard with Jamie while Roy rested his knee and did reports, that something in his mind clicked.

Jamie spent almost every moment of his day with Roy now. He slept over at Roy's so he could sleep an extra 20 minutes before 4am training, and since he arrives to work with Roy, Roy brings him home- his home that is. And Roy tells Jamie to go stretch out while he makes dinner. After dinner, he has Jamie take a proper shower, and while he does, Roy lays out the clothes for Jamie to wear to bed.

And in all that time, months at this point, and at no point has Jamie asked for a night away (and isn't that an interesting thought, that Jamie would ask to go out, ask permission, like he belonged to Roy. And maybe he did in a way) But Jamie *hadn't* which means that Jamie had gone on a date or slept with anyone in months.

"Jamie?"

Jamie looks over from where he's sitting at the kitchen island, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. "Yeah, Coach?"

"Why haven't you gone out on any dates recently?"

And Jamie pauses. He looks, genuinely confused for a moment.

"You haven't told me I could." And Jamie says that as if it's a totally normal thing for your coach to decide when you're allowed to go out on dates.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Roy demands, feeling off kilter in this conversation.

Jamie shrugs. "Ever since I just let you decide what I do, life's just been easier, innit?"

Something dark and possessive curls in Roy's chest at that. He'd made Jamie's life better by being in control. He'd always been overbearing, especially in relationships, but maybe. Maybe they just hadn't been Jamie.

"Do you want me to start going on dates?" Jamie asks, something mischievous in his tone, but there was something else. Hope? No that wasn't right. Desperation, maybe. But for what, Roy didn't know.

"And if I told you no more dates? Indefinitely?" Roy decides to test the limits. How far would Jamie allow him to push?

Jamie shrugged. "Already been doing that, haven't I?"

And Jamie is so smug, looking so proud of himself. Roy has to take him down, just a little.

"What if I told you that you couldn't cum without my permission?" And oh, that's an interesting reaction. Jamie's eyes flutter and his cheeks redden deeply. He swallows before saying "Whatever you think is best, Coach."

And at some point, Roy has entered Jamie's space. He brings one hand, much steadier than he feels, to Jamie's chin. He's taking a risk, as calculated as it is.

"And if I told you only I could make you cum?" And Jamie melts, big eyes looking up at Roy like he held all the answers, and maybe to Jamie, he did.

"Please..." Jamie whimpers, his hands coming to wrap around the fabric of Roy's shirt.

And Roy has to take a deep breath, he needed to think rationally. He steps away from Jamie, and tries not to crumble at the pathetic sound Jamie makes as he does.

"Jamie-"

"Please Roy, I'll be good I promise? And I have been, haven't I? Doing everything you tell me to."

Roy is back, bringing Jamie close to his chest. "Yeah you have, Jamie. I'm not upset with you, never with you my good boy." He pauses. "Not anymore, anyways." He teases, and it works because he feels Jamie laugh.

"I just need to be clear, what we're doing, what we are. Am I just your coach? Or do you want more from me?"

This time it's Jamie who pulls back as he scoffs. "You haven't been just me coach in months." He looks a little bashful. "Always had a thing for ya, even when ya hated me and I lived to piss you off. You've seen the stupid poster in me room back home."

Jamie finally meets Roy's eyes, brave as ever, his boy. "I want to be your boyfriend, or partner. If ya want that too."

Roy smiles, letting Jamie nuzzle into his hand. "That is what I want, Jamie. More than anything."

"And to keep telling me what to do?"

And Roy laughs but nods. "Whatever my boy needs."

And a month or so later, Keely comes over and witnesses how they act with each other at home, and realises that oh my god you idiots are in a TPE relationship and cue Roy doing in depth research, printing out contracts and establishing safe words. Jamie happily does whatever Roy asks of him, just like he always does. And Jamie knows he could've said no at any point in this, in fact he had, when Roy tried to get him to eat mushrooms (he had limits!) but he knows the safe words makes Roy feel better, knowing how much power he has over Jamie. And if it makes Roy happy, Jamie is happy to do it.

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

An innocent request from Rook leads to some quality time together, with an unexpected outcome.

Enby RookxLucanis

Chapter 4 - Worth Waiting For

Read on AO3

The sound of the dining hall door opening pulls Lucanis out of his reverie, his gaze leaving the crackling flames as he turns to face his guest. He already knows who it is, the steady footfalls as familiar to him as breathing. He greets Rook with a small smile as they round the table, leaning against it opposite his place by the fire.

Rook looks too focused on something for this to be a purely social call, he tilts his head as he enquires. “What can I help you with?”

Rook runs a hand through their hair, chuckling lightly. “Is it that obvious that I want something?”

Lucanis shrugs nonchalantly. “You have a look.”

They grin as they meet Lucanis’ eyes. “Trust a master assassin to know my tells. Speaking of…there is a favour I wanted to ask of you.”

Lucanis pushed off the wall to face them fully, needing Rook to understand the depths of his sincerity as he answered. “It is no favour. You have done more for me than I could hope to repay. Anything in my power to do, is yours.”

Rook laughs bashfully, hand running through their hair once more before giving Lucanis a soft look. “You don’t owe me anything, but thank you. And I don’t think this is quite that big of an ask to earn such a declaration.”

“Regardless, name it, and it is done.”

“…I wanted to ask if you would train with me.”

Lucanis blinks in surprise at the simple ask, but Rook continues before he can say anything.

“Well, train me, I suppose.” They take a breath, preparing, before an avalanche of words starts tumbling out. “Your blade work is breathtaking, I know my way around a fight, but my training was more ‘try not to die’ than technical skill. Facing the enemies we are, I need to be at my best. So I wanted to learn from the best. But you don’t just fight, your blades dance-”

Lucanis feels a heat rising to his face as they go on, flustered and flattered in equal measure, not sure how to react to either. Thankfully Rook has a slightly faraway look, clearly reminiscing over past fights as they talk. He admires the bright enthusiasm in their eyes as they gesticulate, emphasising movements with their hands.

He clears his throat, hoping his flush is concealed in the dim light. His voice still feels thick as he interrupts. “I already said I would do whatever you asked, flattery is not required.”

Rook breaks out of whatever zone they had slipped into, taking a moment to process his words before a delighted smile lights up their face. Lucanis feels the flush returning at bearing the full force of such radiance. He truly would do anything Rook asked of him if he got to witness that expression every time. He can only be grateful that he knows Rook is too kind to ask something of him that he wouldn’t want to do, or he would be in trouble.

They breathe out a grateful, “Thank you.” Before looking away, considering. “When is a good time?”

He debates for a second. “I have no immediate plans if you don’t?”

“Now?” Rook stands up, smile back in full force. Lucanis can’t help but find their eagerness endearing. He nods.

“If you have nothing more pressing?” At the gentle shake of Rook’s head he continues. “Change into something comfortable to train in, grab your gear and meet me back here then.”

Rook’s palm is warm through his shirt where it gently grasps his bicep. With another earnest, “Thank you.” they’re walking briskly out the door again.

Lucanis feels an equal, if unfamiliar, eagerness at getting to spend more time with Rook. He mentally shakes himself, trying to focus. Taking the final sip of his coffee, forgotten amidst the conversation, he heads into the pantry to change.

-----

Back in their room, Rook quickly strips out of their casual clothes, grabbing a loose navy shirt to wear with a pair of their older, well worn, trousers. Reaching into the bottom of the wardrobe, they grab a clean rag, their mageknife, and a duller training blade just in case. Eying a cloth bundle nestled in the corner, they debate for a moment. Reaching a decision with a pleased hum, they pick it up and add it to the pile.

Filling up their water skin from the bowl of water in the corner that always seems to have a fresh supply, they pick up all their gear and stride out the door, steps light.

Opening the dining hall door a few minutes later, they’re greeted by Lucanis, lounging against the stairs. A soft looking black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows is tucked into his usual leather trousers from his armour. Rook takes a moment to appreciate how deliciously snug they are when not obscured by the other layers he usually wears. Legs strong, but lithe. He’s empty handed and Rook looks at him curiously as he steps forward.

Lucanis chuckles at their confused expression, gesturing with his head to the stairs leading up. “Follow me.”

Acquiescing, they follow Lucanis up the steps. Expecting to be led out onto the balcony, their steps falter when they reach the top, realising that there was another set of steps nestled away. Leading up further, over the pantry. They see Lucanis' shoulders twitch in suppressed laughter at their surprised, “huh?”.

There’s mirth dancing in his eyes as he turns to glance back at Rook. “No one ever seems to come in from that side, I don’t think anyone else has noticed it either.”

Thinking back, he’s right. They haven’t been up there since they first got to the Lighthouse and explored. They usually come straight through the front door, beelining straight to either food, or Lucanis, or to the chairs in the corner to chat with the others.

At the top of the short flight of steps, Lucanis pushes open a door and steps inside, holding it for Rook as they walk out into an open space, eyes wide as they take it in.

“Well that explains why you didn’t have anything on you.” Rook says, still cataloguing the room.

It covers the whole width of the dining hall, extending out past the back wall of the pantry below. Rook wonders how they never noticed it. The ceiling is high, probably high enough that Lucanis could comfortably fly around on Spite’s wings if he wanted to, and crisscrossed with sturdy wooden beams. On the left, a hip high balcony the only barrier between the arena and the open, endless expanse of the Fade beyond. Weapon racks, targets, and training dummies line the wall to the right. Every type of weapon imaginable on display. Rook wonders if Lucanis truly trains with all of them, or if the strange magic of the Lighthouse is just generous in supplying anything one might need.

“It wasn’t here when I first arrived.” Lucanis admits from Rook’s shoulder, watching them take in the space. “I had been training out in the courtyard, when you were all asleep, or on missions, and was thinking how much I missed having proper space for it. Last week I was out on the balcony-“

“Brooding?” Rook cuts in cheekily, shooting him a sidelong glance.

Lucanis continues as if uninterrupted, but bumps his shoulder into Rook’s as he walks past, towards a bench next to the nearest weapon rack. “-and when I walked in, those stairs were there.” He gestures back behind them.” And then there’s suddenly this space up here, exactly what I needed. I’ve been training up here since.” Lucanis picks up a pair of daggers from the bench and turns back to Rook. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get used to this strange Fade place, but I can’t deny it’s useful. And well stocked.” He says waving a blade towards the wall of equipment.

Rook followed and placed their bundle of gear on the bench before straightening and facing Lucanis, laser focused. “So, what’s first?”

He flips the dagger in his off hand, grasping the flat of the blade to offer it to Rook, hilt first. They grip it firmly, the faint warmth from Lucanis’ palm still lingering on the worn leather.

“Warm up, and footwork.” He replies, leading Rook out into the centre of the space. “We have basic forms drilled into us from childhood, they get your body used to the movements. The footwork is vital, a solid foundation for everything else to build from.”

Rook listened to his explanation with rapt attention, enjoying the smooth cadence of his voice.

“I will demonstrate slowly through the first set a few times, follow my movements to get the feel for it.”

Rook nods firmly in understanding and Lucanis turns so his back is to Rook, they see his shoulders rise in a deep inhale, before relaxing into the first stance on the exhale. Rook slides into the same stance, this much familiar, at least. Lucanis glances back briefly, meeting Rook’s eyes.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Facing forward again he begins. Slowly he works through a short set of moves, Rook watching his back intently and trying to mirror them. After a few runs, they start to get into the rhythm of it, feeling more confident; after a few more, Lucanis moves away, gesturing for Rook to continue as he circles, analysing Rook’s form.

They try to focus on the movement of their body, the push and pull of muscle, the shifting of balance, instead of the feeling of Lucanis’ eyes roving over them. Having Lucanis’ undivided focus drawing out a heat unrelated to the physical exertion. Warm hands provided gentle correction. They almost want to make more mistakes to feel his touch again, but the urge to prove their worth is stronger. A few more circles and an impressed hum signal Lucanis’ contentment with the work so far and he slips back into place in front of Rook, picking up the pace.

-----

Lucanis runs them through various basic forms in much the same way. It’s almost meditative working through them, they could almost let their mind drift if they weren’t so intent on watching the man in front of them. Getting to admire Lucanis’ body moving so closely is an exquisite torture, his power and grace evident in every step and twist. If they spend more time admiring bare forearms than strictly necessary to learn the movement as he cuts through the air with his blade, sweat starting to glisten in the dark dusting of hair as muscles flex underneath, then that’s nobody’s business but their own.

-----

Lucanis isn’t sure which is worse. When he’s critiquing Rook: watching the pull of fabric across taut muscles, the glimpses through the deep v of their shirt shifting as they move, the heat of their skin as he nudges their body into the correct positions. But facing away as he demonstrates, he sees Spite prowling from the corner of his vision, observing Rook in his stead. It’s a fight to keep his movements controlled and steady with Spite’s commentary.

Rook. BEAUTIFUL. When they. Fight.

Deadly. Fierce.

We make. Stronger.

FIGHT. Together.

He materialises in Lucanis’ space, Lucanis having to force himself not to break the steady movements, trying to ignore him in the hopes he’ll get bored.

They watch. Us.

He leers at Lucanis, before looking away over his shoulder at Rook.

Want. Us.

Lucanis squeezes his eyes closed, trying to will Spite away and lose himself in the familiar routine. Thankfully Spite falls silent, seemingly content for now with just watching.

-----

It’s hard to tell how much time has passed in the Fade, but Lucanis is fairly sure it’s been a couple of hours as they round off the session with some light sparring, more a playful tussle with blades than anything serious. He can’t remember the last time training was anything other than a strict regime to hone himself, or something to occupy his mind and body when he needed to feel in control. But with Rook he’s felt comfort, having someone he trusts working alongside him, a sense of pride as they pick up the movements and become more confident. And he can’t deny the spark of warmth in his gut just from watching Rook work.

Shirts cling to sweaty skin as they both take deep drinks of water. Breath slowing and bodies cooling as they sit side by side on the bench, a line of warmth connecting them as their thighs press together.

Turning his head, Lucanis watches Rook wipe the sweat off their exposed skin with the rag they brought. “You did well, we’ll make a Crow of you yet.”

They laugh softly, offering up the dry end of the cloth for him to use. “You’re a good teacher. I’ve never felt so…aware of my movements. No wonder you’re so good at what you do, you have so much control.” They take another drink then look hopefully back up at Lucanis. “I would love to do this again. If you’ll have me?”

As if he could deny Rook anything. Wiping down his face allows him a second to break eye contact and collect himself. He meets Rook’s gaze again with a sincere smile.

“I would enjoy that. It’s been a long time since I trained with anybody…It’s been nice.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes longer. Rook seems deep in thought, but content, and Lucanis enjoys the simple presence of them beside him.

Taking a deep breath he rises fluidly to his feet. “I think we’ve earned a hearty lunch. Let me go wash up and put something together for us.”

Rook stood hastily and gently grabbed his forearm as he was turning away, prompting him to face them, cocking a curious brow in their direction.

“One moment…there was something I wanted to give you.” Lucanis misses the calloused palm as it retreats, Rook moving to the end of the bench to pick up the cloth bundle they’d brought with them. Returning to present it to him, laid across their palms. They looked almost nervous, not quite meeting his eyes as they explained further. “I was waiting for the right moment, and now seemed like a good time.”

Lucanis lifted the wrapped bundle from their hands with care, the weight surprising him as Rook’s hands fell away. As soon as it was in his palms, he had a suspicion as to what it was; the shape and balance of a blade even more familiar than the smell of fresh coffee to him.

Glancing up, Rook was watching him intently now, eyes flicking across his face as he starts to unfold the fabric. He feels his eyes widen. Curiosity morphs into disbelief, being swiftly overtaken with almost childlike wonder as he reveals the blade fully.

“A wyvern tooth dagger?” His smile is probably giddy as he looks back up at Rook. He briefly catches their face softening before he’s back admiring the dagger, running a reverent finger along its delicate detailing, then up to test its wickedly sharp edge. The cloth flutters to the ground, unnoticed by him, as he finishes turning the dagger over in his hands in wonderment. “I loved wyverns as a boy. Caterina would never let me have one of these, though. I begged for her to let me have one as a pet. She said no. Obviously.”

-----

Rook watches the emotions wash over Lucanis’ face, not sure why they’re so nervous about the gift. They just needed him to know that they appreciated him. That while he thinks about everyone else, makes sure they are all taken care of, that he deserves that too.

They’re glad they waited for this private moment to hand it over, able to fully soak in the uninhibited delight overtaking Lucanis’ features, stare with adoring fondness as he handles the dagger almost reverently, touch gentle as he traces the etched filigree. His eyes shone, boyish with unrestrained emotion, as they periodically flickered up to Rook’s while he talked, not able to pry them from the dagger for long.

Rook’s voice is low and warm with affection, not wanting to disturb the moment by speaking too loud. “I saw you lingering on it at the market. You were getting things for everyone else, I couldn’t go without getting something for you too.” They admitted softly.

Lucanis apparently finishes his appreciation of the dagger for now, giving Rook his full attention. A glimmer of understanding as he thinks back to that trip to Treviso. “At the market…when you stayed behind?”

Rook nods mutely. Lucanis’ jaw works faintly as his eyes flick to the blade, as if he can’t decide what to say.

Rook places a warm hand on forearm, thinking they could both use the grounding touch. “It looked like you wanted it, but held yourself back. I wanted to make sure you knew that you deserve the things you want, not just the things you need.”

Lucanis released a quiet, punched out breath, searching Rook’s eyes for…something.

Rook feels their heart pounding against their ribs as they continue, Lucanis’ intense scrutiny different from when they were training earlier. “And now seemed like a good time. You agreed to help me train, and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate yo-“

A soft pair of lips cuts them off.

They’re frozen for a fraction of a second as the realisation sets in, the press of warmth and soft tickle of bristles long fantasised about, but nowhere near as perfect as the real thing.

Lucanis pulls away, feet settling back on the ground from the tiptoes he had to stand on to stretch up to Rook’s mouth. But Rook follows him down, hand cupping the side of his face softly as they lean down and lips meet again. Rook’s free hand reaches out for Lucanis’ waist, thumb circling absentmindedly. One of Lucanis’ still grips the dagger, holding it off to the side, away from vulnerable bodies. The other finds a home in Rook’s hair as he presses eagerly against Rook’s lips. Enthusiastic, if not experienced. Lips part, foreheads pressed together. Rook’s hum of contentment at Lucanis’ blunt fingernails scratching at their scalp breathed out across his lips, luxuriating in the closeness. Rook’s eyes opened to gaze down into Lucanis’, panting a soft laugh into the shared space between their lips.

“So you liked your present then?” They muttered softly, eyes creased in a blend of amusement and affection.

Lucanis pulled away, hand in their hair sliding down to caress the edge of their jaw, eyes molten. “The…appreciation is mutual.”

Lucanis can surely feel how fast their heart is beating as his hand slides down to their chest, calluses scratching deliciously on the bare skin exposed by their half open shirt. They wait, watching him with gentle affection as his eyebrows crease, clearly trying to figure out how to word something, content to feel Lucanis against them.

He seems to deliberate for a few more seconds before he speaks, soft and hesitant. “Rook…I haven’t done this before.” He looks away, uncertainty colouring his expression. Rook rubs a thumb soothingly across his cheek, hoping to reassure. He steels himself with a breath, hand moving from their chest to grasp the one on his cheek. Rook lets him commandeer it willingly. He meets their eyes as he brings Rook’s hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to their knuckles. Rook’s stomach flutters at the gentle brush. His breath tickles across their hand as he continues. “I want…this...but…I fear you may need to be patient with me.”

He seems almost guilty at the admittance. Rook’s heart stutters as Lucanis seems to close off, as if already anticipating rejection. They can’t let him feel any doubt, and the flicker of resignation that crosses his face as they pull their hand from Lucanis’ feels like a cord tightening around their heart. But the soft exhale of relief as they pull him firmly into their chest, arms winding tight around him, relaxes that cord, in time with the release of tension they feel through Lucanis’ body. His face comes to nestle comfortably against Rook’s chest, free hand coming up to grasp loosely in the shirt at their lower back, wyvern tooth dagger still hanging loosely at his side.

Whispering into his hair, Rook reassures him. “Whatever you need.” A kiss pressed to the crown of his head. “However long you need.”

Lucanis shudders in a long breath, his shaky exhale warm against their chest. They continue to hold each other for a few more minutes, revelling in the intimacy and warmth. Eventually Lucanis starts to shift, and they slowly unwind limbs, reluctantly separating.

He looks down at the almost forgotten wyvern dagger in his hand. A pleased smile spreading across his face once more. He pats Rook’s chest lightly. “We need to wash up,” he starts making his way over to the door, “and I owe you a thank you lunch.” He calls over his shoulder as he reaches the door.

Rook pauses from picking up their gear, head whipping up stare after his retreating back. They shout indignantly back. “No! You can’t thank me for the thank you.”

A throaty laugh echoes up from the stairway. “Yes I can.”

They can hear the smug smile in his voice. Rook shakes their head in exasperation, smile immovable on their face as they pick up their things and follow him out.

[sixth-love-language]

i'm going to say it ONCE and i'm NOT going to say it again

you do not know better than the CDC and WHO about disease prevention measures, you do not know how to defend yourself in court better than a lawyer, and you do NOT know how to evacuate an aircraft with 80 souls on board better than a flight attendant.

flight attendants train for literal weeks to gain skills that they hope and pray they never have to use specifically for a situation that we all hope and pray we never find ourselves in. even with my bipolar-related memory issues, i still remember every single one of the evacuation commands i learned in training with my second airline in may 2021 and could evacuate an E170/E175 in my sleep. the FAs involved in this accident got a completely full plane (76 passengers, the maximum seating configuration in delta's CRJ-900 fleet + 4 crewmembers = 80 souls on board) evacuated with no fatalities and people still find a way to clown on them.

if you're asking "why on earth would the FAs' commands that the airline trains them to use in an evacuation tell passengers to stay in their seats?", the following will enlighten you:

this is the back half of a CRJ-900, the aircraft type involved in the DL4819 crash. this plane has two flight attendants, one in the front and one in the back. the aft (back) flight attendant jumpseat is behind row 19, by the restroom. emergency exits are marked with arrows.

armed with this information, let's reconsider why the FAs would need passengers to remain seated in a crash. where are the exits compared to the aft FA? do you think it would take longer for people to start evacuating the aircraft if everyone remains seated and the aft FA can get to the overwing exits to open them, or if the aft FA is stuck at the back while those in the exit rows are charged with opening them? (keep in mind that this question is rhetorical and i'm not interested in hearing an answer to this until after you've earned your wings and have spent a month on reserve having passengers ask you how to open the lav door every time you get assigned a flight. yes, that happens. i've also had passengers point at my L2 exit and ask if that was the lav door.)

what would you do if you got to an exit door and there was fire outside? what if you tried to open an exit door and the emergency assist failed? what if you got the door open and the slide didn't deploy? would you know what to do? i would, and i know i would because my instructor threw all three of those at once at me during my final evac drill.

if an FA is asking/telling you to do something, there is a reason for it. they want to get home alive just as much as you do. they are safety professionals and i am tired of people treating the individuals responsible for saving the ungrateful flying public's asses as "less-than".

[psychoticjoint]

A Second Chance

Tw: breakdown?

Wc: 1007

First short fic on here... And of course, it's Timebomb. If anyone does read this, please tell me what you think.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ekko was sitting on the bed in his room, looking around with no goal in mind. Scar was out on a mission with a few others, and most of the kids were sick. The ones that weren't sick were being trained, being prepared for missions.

He didn't have anything to do. So he just sat there. It was the best thing he could do. He closed his eyes. Just for a moment.

That's when he heard a familiar voice.

"I know you're not sleeping."

He opened his eyes in a panic to see a familiar girl with blue hair. It was unmistakably her. Magenta pink eyes, blue hair with that bang, slim but muscular body, the curves of her- Woah! What was he thinking? He needs to calm down.

He shook his head and looked into her eyes. "Jinx?" He whispered, almost as if her name was a sin.

"That's me, yeah. That's me." She answered, almost sadly.

"I.. Jinx, I thought you were dead! Everyone thinks you're dead! No, I have to be hallucinating. Better yet, dreaming!" Ekko started to ramble.

But then he was silenced by a sharp slap, the dull stinging lingering on his cheek. The air seemed to freeze as the sound rang through the room. Ekko couldn't help but touch his cheek. She had to be real. No hallucination should be able to do that.

"I'm real, jeez. If you were dreaming, you would've woken. If I was a hallucination, I wouldn't have been able to do that." She said like everything was common knowledge. "Not even my hallucinations could physically touch me."

Ekko just stared at her. He was bewildered. Jinx. She was alive.

"Are you just gonna stare, or..?" She asked, her voice almost skeptical.

"I'm looking at a ghost." Ekko muttered, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Yeah, I guess it feels like that for you." She sighs.

Jinx looked around the room. An awkward silence washed over them. Moments passed. Then seconds. Then minutes. Ekko just stared. Jinx stared back. Then Jinx broke the silence.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, Ekko. I..." She took a breath. "I have my reasons. It's just-"

"Reasons for what? You did a lot of things, you know." Ekko countered, his voice almost hostile.

Jinx flinched at the harsh tone. "For faking my death. For leaving. I just-"

"You just what? You left me, Vi, Zaun!" He snapped, his tone bitter.

Jinx instinctively stepped back. She took a deep breath. "I just couldn't anymore! I could stand in Vi's way of happiness! I could risk hurting you anymore!"

Ekko froze. He didn't know what to say. Jinx continued talking.

"I'm a jinx, Ekko! Everyone who gets close to me dies, whether I'm pulling the trigger or not! It happened with Mylo and Claggor, Silco, even Isha!" Hot tears streamed down Jinx's face as her small form trembled. Ekko wanted nothing more than to hug her, to comfort her and tell her everything was okay. But he couldn't. He was frozen.

"I made a mistake coming back here! You and Vi were doing fine! Now here I come, messing everything up like I usually do." She continued. Ekko could feel his heart breaking.

"Jinx..." He began, his voice no more than a low whisper.

"No, Ekko! I'm a danger! A hazard! I'll just hurt you! I'll hurt everyone-!"

"Jinx!" He said louder, his voice firm but still soft. He took a step closer, Jinx took a step back.

Ekko has saved her before. He can do it again. He knows it.

He slowly took another step forward. Jinx didn't step back this time. Ekko slowly reached his hand out, and gently placed it on her arm.

"Jinx. Powder..." He began, his voice a low whisper. "You are so much more than that. You are not a jinx. You never were..." He moved his hand to her shoulder, looking into his eyes. "And you never will be." He told her.

Jinx just stared back at him. Hot tears continued to fall down her cheeks, stained black with her mascara. Ekko slowly engulfed her into a hug, his touch loose as he was unsure. Unsure if this was okay. Unsure if Jinx was okay with it.

After a moment, Jinx hugged him tightly. She buried her face into his chest, letting out sobs. Ekko hugged her just as tightly.

Then someone entered. It was Scar. "Hey Ekko, I'm-" He froze as he saw Jinx. He was immediately on guard.

Ekko gave him a stern look, holding Jinx tighter against him. He mouthed one word, "leave", his expression leaving no room for question.

Scar hesitated. He gave Jinx a few strange looks, but then he turned to leave, closing the door behind him. Ekko let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Ekko?" Jinx's broken voice spoke quietly.

"Yes?"

"Why haven't you turned me away?"

"..." He hesitated. He didn't know. "The thought of it feels wrong."

"There's more to it than that." She insisted.

"Maybe." He began. "But I don't even know what it is."

Jinx giggled and looked at Ekko. Her cheeks were stained black by her mascara.

"You look..." Beautiful. Is what he wanted to say. But instead, he said something stupid. "Like a mess."

Jinx huffed and rolled her eyes. "You're jealous."

Ekko raised an eyebrow. "Of what?"

"Of the fact I'm still pretty even when I'm not." She smirked.

Ekko rolled his eyes. He paused before speaking. "You know, we can build something new. Something better. Stay here, Jinx. It may be complicated, especially since you're supposed to be dead, but we can do it. We'll build something new." He took a deep breath. "Together."

Jinx looked shocked for a moment before she smiled. "I like that idea."

Ekko nodded.

"Do you promise?" She asked quietly.

"I promise." He smiled.

Jinx hugged him once again, tightly. Ekko returned the embrace. A happy, almost excited smile was on his face.

"Thank you, Ekko." Jinx whispered. "For this. For everything."

Ekko's smile grew softer. "Of course."

[lynn-tged-posting]

HIII ADDING ON JAVIER'S! it was posted to twitter recently! huge thank you to OP, 민트초코 !!!

let's translate! line by line, from top to bottom, his text reads:

Javier Asrahan

01.68 / O /186cm / 83kg // birthday, blood type, height, and weight respectively!

Likes: the Frontera family, Kim Suho (// OH MY GOD.), Kim Suho's textbook lullaby, cola-flavored coconut, cool season (good for swordsmanship training), receiving a lot of love letters from ladies, teasing lloyd

Dislikes: Lloyd before Kim Suho's possession, Lloyd (Kim Suho's) song, people that ignore his lord (// arcos), insomnia, losing (in any field), spicy food, breaking promises

end translation! WE WON GUYS WAR IS OVER JAVISUHO IS REAL. KIM SUHO IN JAVIER'S LIKES THAT'S AMAZING THAT'S AMAZING THAT'S AMAZING EVERYONE CHEER EVERYONE CHEER

it's so cute. that's so amazing,,, it all makes sense, why would he like "lloyd frontera" when he knows the person in the body of lloyd is KIM SUHO,,, he sees suho for who he is and likes him for who he is,,, SO CUTE,,,

just all his likes and dislikes,,, so sweet,,, javier you truly are the greatest protagonist ever i love u sm. he doesn't like losing,,, competitive,,, likes teasing lloyd,,,,,,,, so cute,,,, KIM SUHO AND HIS LULLABY IMMMM AAAAHHHH FREAKING OUT!!!! /POS

the height difference of 5 cm mentioned in the novel was also corroborated here! 186 cm, as was concluded from the last post,,, YIPPEE!

a HUGE thank you to fluff (@ milkbreadtoast) for also translating! there were some phrases i was confused on, but their translation really helped clarify things, i referred to theirs a bit! i will be going back to the post on lloyd's and alicia's to correct my translations there too, and to add a couple more notes :3

another note too that i just remembered (since i'm not sure how known this is on tgedtumblr (tgedblr??), tgedtwt actually just found this out very recently) but javier's birthday here 1.26 is actually a birthday he chose,,, basically, someone asked the author about his birthday way before these cards came out, and bk moon had answered that javier didn't know his actual birthday. however, 1.26 was the day he was found by the fronteras, and thus he considers that day his birthday now,,, the start of his new life,,,

so i'm very happy to see it again stated here,,, that's the day his life with the fronteras began ooohghhh im gonna CRY

i'd make a bigger post on it but it's really not that long of a thing so i'll keep it as a note here nod emoji

as one final bonus, we also managed to get a closer look at ppodong's card! shown in a part of a promo video from Taeyang shop:

the linked video shows closeups of the text! from top to bottom, left to right, it reads:

Ppodong -MAMMAL-

Blood Type: C type // not actually sure what type this is, see tl note*

Body Length: 12cm (before transformation) (// he's the tallest of them isn't he,,, cute,,, eldest brother), 10m (after transformation)

Weight: 270g (before transformation), 11t (after transformation)

Disliked Things: cold and hunger, construction schedule delays, Ggoming being free from discipline (// when ggoming gets away with slacking off?), reduced sleep time

Favorite Things: Lloyd, walnut, sunflower seeds, hamster wheel, Javier, Bangul, Hamang, Ggoming, Bibeong, cats hanging around the Frontera Mansion yard, the smell of earth, lying down and taking a nap like a rice cake

end translation! so silly,,, the most hardworking of them i feel like,,, oh ppodong eldest son,,, so cute,,, i think it's amusing that he likes seeing cats in the frontera estate, maybe thats a reference to the novel that i dont know about yet!

* i actually have no idea what type of blood that C looking character refers to,,, i was able to infer bangul's and hamang's based on some brief google searching and context clues - Rh blood's most significant antigen is D, which matches the D character in bangul's, and the H character in hamang's is likely a substitute for A as the H character in korean is read with an A-like sound - but for ppodong's i have no clue! any help with that would be greatly appreciated bowing emoji

that should be all the profile cards now, at least unless (until?) they release a new second set of cards! i hope this was helpful or at least a fun read! any edits i make will be marked with EDIT:, and please let me know if i missed anything!!! byebye now,,, whew final update on these,,,

WAIT SO IF JAVIER'S BDAY IS TODAY THEN WHEN IS LLOYD'S??

i don't think lloyd frontera's birthday has been officially confirmed yet, at least as far as i know! we actually got to find out javier's birthday because someone asked the author, and the author's response got posted, so hopefully someone can ask again about lloyd's!

the only two birthdays that are confirmed (to my knowledge) are suho's which is february 22nd, and javier's which is today, january 26th! though if i'm wrong please do correct me lol

edit: i've been informed that the unknown knight's tged collab lists his birthday as february 22nd, but whether or not this is canon is up to you, take that as you will! i personally will wait til the author / adaptation team clarifies nod emoji