#if there are any more questions feel free!

[dovewingkinnie]

explanation for bootleg au: this is basically just my own version of the tadc pilot and it came from the idea of me wanting to reanimate the entire tadc pilot but in my own way cause i thought it was fun!! this probably won't happen but i think it would be cool... digital circus bootleg.. where caine is named Laine and gangle is named Jangle its brilliant... i could go more into how things have been changed up but i dont want the post to get too long so if u have any questions feel free to ask ^_^ im still developing it (note that im not going beyond the pilot for this au)

[krystella-shifts]

EVERYTHING IS CLICKING FOR ME Y'ALL!!! *ੈ✩‧₊˚

The only post you'll ever need for LOA. Literally.

It's so easy to manifest literally so easy once you do this. JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX, BE IN RECIVING MODE INSTEAD OF CONSTANTLY FEELING LIKE YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. Yes sometimes it can be hard when you feel panic that you have to manifest as fast as possible but trust me once you TRUST, it'll all fall into your lap at the snap of a finger! Literally. You'll even feel better and happy instead of worrying and feel like waiting forever. The universe/god/your higher self, whatever you believe in is telling you or teaching you that the way isn't through worry, stress, pain, suffering. The way is through ease, love, trust. Once you understand this you'll ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS be able to manifest without any effort. Yes, no need for that 21 days challenge, no need to set a reminder for every hour to affirm, no need to try hard to visualise every teeny tiny detail. Just have this inner knowing and relax. That's the cheat code. How easy is that? You literally have the cheat code and it doesn't require ANY effort outside and the most minimal effort inside.

Now let me explain all the manifestation techniques in more detail.

Every manifestation technique has one goal:

Think about any technique. Affirming, visualising, scripting,etc. All of these are for what? To remind you, you have your desire. YES not to get something. That's why Neville said feel it real is very powerful technique. Cuz that's what happens when we receive something right. But what we do in loa is we feel it rn and get it rn, and because the 3d is in the past, yes it's our past assumptions, that's why we say it's not real. So when we feel it real we already have our desire in the present, but the 3d is not in the present. So don't react to it. Just remember that. And after a few days of having our desire we don't get THAT excited, do we? So when you think about it again you don't have to feel anything or do anything cuz you already have it. AND THEN WE JUST SIT BACK AND RELAX. Again the same conclusion. Cuz that's it!

ALL YOU NEED TO EVER DO:

Decide what you want. And feel having it.

Remind yourself that you have ___ either saying it in your head, writing it down, etc

RELAX. SIT TF BACK. YES YOU DON'T NEED TO DO ANYTHING.

Whenever you think about ___ always remember you have it. And think naturally. How would you think having ___ cuz you do now.

Remember the 3d is a product of your past assumptions. Just like how we see the stars 8 years later of their actual form. Just like it takes 8 minutes for sunlight to reach the earth. If you remember this you won't ask "where it is" you know it is here. And yes u can manifest Shifting too.

Allow it to come to you. I don't chase i attract.

Yes that's what it means. And I am the living proof for that 😌💅🏻✨ I am literally living my dream life and bestie you are too. That's all you need to manifest (aka yourself). It's very simple but if you have any questions feel free to comment and keep me updated on your manifestation journey and success stories cuz I'd love to read them and know if my post helped you 🤭🥂 (atleast you can do that for me, right? ;p)

Love, ... redkittyjellyfish? Wait i need to change my user name 💀 (ps. I changed my user from redkittyjellyfish - Krystella-Shifts (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) )

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[dawsonskyelar]

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sebastian’s happy to be anywhere or do anything as long as he’s with Nick and he can listen to him ranting about whatever. Nick, however, loves to take Sebastian out to eat.

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Both of them love that the other accepts them. Sebastian loves Nick’s joy and Nick loves Sebastian’s intelligence.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Sebastian barely knows how to take care of his own needs so he panics when Nick has a bad day. Nick tries to give Sebastian gifts, mostly food, and tells jokes and stories.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Both of them dream about sharing the same space with each other until the end of time.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

In the beginning of their relationship Sebastian has to order Nick to clean up after himself. However, after a certain incident, they agree to divide the chores between them and Sebastian leaves Nick’s room alone.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Their arguments are loud and explosive. Both use slurs and try to use the other’s worst trait against them. Nick forgets what they’re even fighting about the next day, but Sebastian, with his excellent memory, will hold a grudge for months.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Nick is so so so happy that Sebastian has chosen him as his partner after yearning for him for years. Sebastian, on the other hand, constantly thinks that Nick will leave him any second.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Both Nick and Sebastian decided to not reveal their pasts to each other when they first moved in together. Over the course of the trilogy they learn to not hide anything since that will only lead to heartache.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Sebastian learns to be less judgemental and Nick learns to be more organised.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Sebastian’s entire reason for biphobia is because he gets jealous of Nick picking anyone and everyone to be his sexual partner instead of him. Nick wouldn’t be happy about giving Sebastian up but he’d do it if it meant Sebastian would be happy.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Because Nick had a lot of sexual partners, he has a lot of experience. Sebastian cums at their first proper kiss because Nick’s technique made him feel so good.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

In an ideal environment? They’d never admit their feelings because they both believe the other’s too good for them.

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Sometimes Sebastian dreams of Nick being mad enough to agree to be his spouse. Nick would ask the question randomly like he’s talking about the weather. Everything becomes more intense – the fights, the sex, the gifts. Nick would send Sebastian a shitton of romance memes in addition to the normal ones that causes the latter’s phone to overheat.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Nick sometimes calls Sebastian ‘Sebster’ and Sebastian will call Nick by his full name if he’s mad.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

They have such googly eyes for each other that Nick’s coworkers had a bet on whether he and Sebastian would end up together eventually.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Nick brags about how lucky he is to have the hottest, smartest, funniest person in all the dimensions as his boyfriend/husband. Sebastian doesn’t like people prying into his private life. He gets flattered but also annoyed when Nick kisses him in public.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Sebastian’s photographic memory saves them a lot of time because he writes stuff down that he needs to remember in his bullet journal.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Nick gives Sebastian lots of material gifts – at first it was the typical ones like flowers, but they get interspersed with useful ones. Sebastian just gives Nick food he knows Nick likes – ice cream, candy, cake, etc – in small amounts.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Sebastian doesn’t pursue hobbies in the beginning because he believes he doesn’t have time nor money for them. This is why he doesn’t like Nick drawing as a hobby at first. As time goes on, however, he tells Nick he can buy a drawing tablet if he wants and even volunteers to come with him to get it. Nick, in a reversal of roles in the third book, is aghast that Sebastian wants to write about his experiences in moving dimensions but of course supports Sebastian any way he can.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Sebastian’s first love affair is routine so he doesn’t like change. Nick has to hold off on trying new things to not put Sebastian on edge.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

They have contrasting personalities so sometimes it’s hard for them to empathise with each other but they always get resolved in the end.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

They define themselves by their relationship. They’re unhealthily co-dependent for affection and think nothing means anything if they didn’t have the other’s approval.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Nick remembers to run an errand that Sebastian forgot and receives Sebastian being more active in bed than

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Nick is a very touchy-feely person. He’ll touch Sebastian anywhere and everywhere; Sebastian hates it at first because physical touch gives him the heebie-jeebies but slowly he learns to tolerate it.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

They have no need to be apart for very long because they live together. Sebastian will dwell on Nick so much that he fucks up whatever he’s doing. Meanwhile Nick will look for something to buy to make Sebastian smile.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

They’re both willing to let people die in the destruction of the dimensions as long as the other didn’t find out about his feelings. And once they’re together, Nick proclaims he’ll do anything as long as Sebastian stays in his life.

Fluff Alphabet!

Inspired by the NSFW Alphabet by @fairy-tail-babes.

Feel free to use for your own writing Blogs!

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

So: Send me a character and one/several letter(s) and let’s get started!

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I WANT MORE SICK QUINN PLEASE

Okay, babes! More sick Quinn it is!

"Oh baby, you look awful."

"Good morning, to you, too," Quinn answered, his eyes half open. His voice sounded like he was talking with his nose pinched closed. You knew when he went to bed last night he was getting sick; you had heard it through the phone. So, when you got the message this morning that he needed you to come over, you made a stop at the pharmacy before his apartment. And it was a good thing, too. 

He was on the sofa, legs pulled up to his chest with a blanket draped over his head and wrapped around him like a sick Halloween ghost. His colour was off; washed out and grey-like, and he was breathing out of his mouth with a rattle in his chest. 

"I'm sorry," you replied softly, removing your shoes and coat at the door. The lights were off when you had got in, but you didn't question it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I look: awful, apparently." 

Hurting his feelings wasn't what you had wanted to do, but it was too late for that now. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I didn't mean for it to--"

"It's fine." Quinn's tone was sharp and flat and he wasn't looking at you. Those two little words had stung, causing you to remain at the door longer than you should have, hesitant to go any further. After a moment, realizing that your words meant nothing and that he wasn't going to apologize either, you grabbed the two bags you had brought with you and walked into the kitchen. 

From across the island, you could see him sitting on the sofa, his head never moving to look over his shoulder at what you were doing. It was like you weren't even there. He was sensitive, you knew that, but this was the first time he had been so irritable. 

With the lights off and all of the floor-length curtains drawn, it was near impossible to do what you needed to by the light of the television in the other room. 

"May I turn the lights on?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't find a reason to get moody over a simple question. 

"Sure," he said, still just a flatly as before. Quinn pulled the blanket further over his head before slumping over onto his side, like he was trying to hide from the impending light. 

His apartment's lights were all on dimmers, so you made sure the kitchen one was on the lowest setting possible before flipping the switch. Light sensitivity: migraine, and the possible reason for his shitty mood. Hurrying, you unpacked everything that you had bought before shutting the light off. You remembered the range hood had a light and one that wouldn't affect him anymore than the tv he was in front of, but at least you would be able to see what you were doing. You looked back towards the sofa where Quinn was still wrapped up tight. Knowing you had to talk to him, you buried your pride, and went back to the living room. 

"Migraine?" You asked him, your free hand touching his shoulder through the blanket, rubbing his back gently. 

"Yeah." 

"Will you look at me, please?"

After what felt like the longest moment, Quinn revealed his face from his private blanket fort. "Why don't you sit up and take these? It will help with the headache. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean for it to come off like it did."

He didn't say anything at first as he forced himself back up. He would take the two pills and water from you and you would leave him alone. Back in the kitchen, you kept your back to him, your arms crossed. You had wanted to make things easy on him today, but now you wondered when he would tell you just to go. Things felt like they were spiraling faster than you could set them right. All just because of one poorly placed comment; one that you didn't mean to come off as serious. 

You were so deep in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard Quinn shuffle from the living room to where you were in the kitchen. His reaching out to touch your arm had startled you and he withdrew his fingers immediately. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, still draped with the blanket. 

You glanced at him for only a moment, "You're fine."

"I don't feel good," Quinn sighed, stepping forward a couple steps to stand right in front of you. He leaned forward to lay his head against your shoulder. He felt hot with fever, and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him. 

"I know you don't, baby."

'I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay." 

Quinn leaned his entire body weight against you, like he was trying to find comfort in any way that he could. Your fingers would trail up and down his back until he decided to move. 

"Everything hurts," he confessed, his eyes pleading for an answer as to why he felt so bad. 

"Can you tell me what you're feeling?"

"Uh, the migraine. I can't breathe. My throat is sore. I'm coughing up green stuff. My body hurts so bad I could seriously cry. I'm cold yet I'm sweaty. I don't know what's going on with me."

His voice had never sounded so pathetic the whole time you had known him, and it hurt you to hear him struggling with so much. 

"Have you taken a Covid test yet?"

"No."

"It wouldn't hurt to take one."

"Okay," he whined, pulling himself from your body as you allowed your arms to fall away from his. "I don't know if I have any left."

"I grabbed some this morning," you remembered, looking through things to find the box. "Here."

Quinn tore open the kit. He fumbled with the contents before finally swabbing his nose and applying it to the test kit. Despite having been so close to you just moments ago, realizing that he could have Covid had made him stand a ways away from you. It didn't take long for the test to read positive, making his fears worse. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes falling closed with a sigh.

"Honey, it's fine. These things happen."

Quinn looked over at you, eyes heavy with guilt. "I probably just got you sick."

"I'm not worried about that," you reassured, your hand touching his cheek after closing the gap between you both. "I could use a few days off from work anyways."

"I didn't want you to get sick. I shouldn't have messaged you to come over."

"Shh, baby, baby, baby," you soothed. "I'll be okay."

He paused, "I've got to tell the team."

"Why don't you go get into bed, message Rick, and I'll deal with all of this stuff, okay?"

Quinn only nodded and slowly took off towards his bedroom. From the open door, you could hear Quinn on the phone, relaying the news of his positive test and that he would miss the next game slotted for tomorrow evening. The call didn't seem to last very long, and you'd enter the room after you were positive he was off the phone, so as not to interfere. 

"You didn't have to wait out there," Quinn spoke, once you joined him. "It wasn't anything that important."

"I know, but it wasn't my business," you smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," he remarked, "Just have to do what I did before. He wants me to re-test in four days and go from there."

Reaching forward, you smoothed his wild curls and felt his forehead again making sure you hadn't imagined the fever. However, he was still quite warm to the touch. Quinn searched your face for reassurance before asking you anything.

"Is it bad?"

"Your fever? No, I don't think so. Hopefully it breaks soon, which should make you feel a lot better. Let me go get you some more water, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, pulling the duvet up around himself with a bit of a struggle. 

"I just feel like shit," he said with a sigh, his congestion somehow sounding worse just before he had a sneezing fit. 

You weren't gone but a minute, but when you came back, he was looking at you like you had forgotten him for hours.

"What's wrong, Quinn?" You asked him, putting a few bottles down on his nightstand. 

"Oh, bless you, sweetheart."

"Ugh, I'm so over this." Quinn blew his nose before falling back into his pillows. 

You frowned, running your hand through his hair, standing beside his side of the bed. "I'm sure you are. I'm sorry."

"Would you lay down with me, babe? Since I've already probably given it to you..." He dropped off, feeling bad about asking you to come over.

Smiling, you leaned down to kiss his forehead one more time. "Of course. Do you need anything else before, though?"

"No," he said, pushing back the blankets to make it easier on you to find him beneath the layers. "Just you."

[itsnesss]

hello! could you write a hwang junho x reader where he finds out that they were asked to join the games? like he discovers the card and freaks out over it? 🫡

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | fluff, emotional content, themes of concern and vulnerability, soft romantic moments, mentions of risk and danger

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The sound of the television is a distant murmur as you get lost in your thoughts. The card weighs on you, but something inside you urges you to ignore the warnings. The desire to change, to escape the monotony of your life, is stronger than any doubt. The opportunity is there, within your reach, and you know you could take it. But what if something goes wrong? The doubt consumes you.

Suddenly, you hear a noise coming from the kitchen. You know it’s him, Jun-ho.

You wonder what he's doing around here, but you don't have time to think too much about it. You’ve barely noticed him until now, but there's something strange about his presence in the last few days. He watches you constantly, as if he's waiting for something to happen.

You hear his footsteps approaching, and when he enters the room, his gaze goes directly to the coffee table where, unknowingly, the card has been left visible. The tension in the air is palpable. You don’t dare move it; you don’t want him to ask, but he does.

"What is this?" he says, his voice so low you can barely hear it. His eyes fix on the card, but his hands stay at his sides, as if he’s avoiding touching it.

"Where did you get this from? Who gave it to you?" His voice hardens, but there's also a kind of desperation you hadn’t noticed before.

Your heart skips a beat. You know you’ve left it in plain sight by mistake, but you didn’t expect him to react like this. Something’s not right, and his gaze makes that clear. The way his jaw tightens and the worry in his eyes makes you hesitate for a moment. You question if you really know what you’re about to do.

"You don’t have to worry about it," you respond, trying to downplay it, but your voice trembles. You don’t even believe yourself. You’re trying to act strong, but you know deep down that something feels vulnerable.

"Yes, yes, I have to worry," he responds firmly, stepping a little closer. The anxiety in his expression is palpable, as if he’s about to explode. "This is not a game. You don’t know what’s behind that card. You’re getting into something you can’t control."

You, however, can’t let him influence you. There’s something inside you telling you that this is your chance, that you can’t let it slip away so easily. Life has been dragging you through the same routine, and this could be the change you’ve been needing. Why not try it? If you could escape all this, maybe you could finally feel free, maybe you could be something else, something different.

"I don’t understand why you care so much," you say with a forced smile, trying to brush off the situation. You don’t want him to see how affected you are by his gaze, by his concern. You need to have control, at least a little. "I’m not a child, I can take care of myself."

The silence between the two of you grows dense. He looks at you as if he’s trying to read what’s going on in your mind, but finally, he steps toward you and, with a deep sigh, takes your hands in his. His fingers, warm and firm, make you feel a small knot in your stomach. It’s strange how such a simple physical touch can make your thoughts dissolve, how suddenly you feel so vulnerable.

"I’m just asking for myself," he says softly, his voice much gentler now, but full of an emotion you can’t quite identify. His expression is laden with sincerity, something you’ve never seen from him before. "Don’t do it. Promise me. I don’t want you to go into that, I don’t want to lose you."

His eyes lock with yours, and in that moment, you feel something change in the air. It’s as if, for an instant, the rest of the world disappears, and it’s just you and him, in that small bubble of silence. His plea resonates in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if you’re making the right decision. His concern is palpable, and for a moment, you question if maybe he knows something you don’t understand yet. It’s so hard to comprehend why he cares so much, why now it seems like the only right option is to follow his advice.

And the worst part is that, for the first time, you doubt your own desires.

"If you need money, I’ll help you," he adds with an unexpected softness, as if he’s willing to do anything to keep you from making that decision. As if it’s not just an attempt to stop you from entering the game, but a genuine desire to protect you, to offer you something better than that risk. "Just promise me. Please."

He says it with such tenderness that you almost crumble. His words, so sincere, pierce you like a knife, and for a moment, you forget about the card, the game, everything that had drawn you to that decision. It’s just him, his gaze, and that glimmer of hope that seems to want to reach you.

It’s strange how, in that instant, everything that had been noise and chaos in your head becomes quiet. You feel the weight of his plea in the air, the vulnerability of his confession, as if he’s offering you his trust without reservation. Why does he care so much about what you think? Why is he so desperate to save you?

You remain silent for a moment, looking into his eyes. You feel the weight of the card in your pocket, but now, in his presence, it doesn’t seem as tempting as it did before. The game, the opportunity, all seem insignificant compared to what you’re feeling now, as you look at him. It’s not just that he’s asking you to stay away from danger; it’s as if, in some way, he’s asking you to believe in him, to believe in something beyond what you want. And the worst part is that it’s becoming hard not to believe.

Without thinking, you step a little closer to him, almost as if it were a reflex, and before you can process it, he kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, full of an unexpected tenderness, as if he’s putting all his hope into that gesture, as if he’s asking you to understand him without words. The kiss is short, but it speaks volumes, and when he pulls away, your hearts beat together, intertwined in a connection you didn’t expect, but somehow, you understand. He’s reached you in a way you didn’t know you needed.

"Promise me," he says softly, as if he already knows he’s gotten to your heart, as if he’s already gotten what he wanted.

You remain silent for a moment, struggling with your own thoughts. The card is still there, close to you, but now, in his presence, you can’t ignore what really matters. His concern, his sweetness, his sincerity... all of that makes you question what you once desired with such fervor.

Finally, you take a deep breath, as if letting go of everything you’ve been holding inside. You look Jun-ho in the eyes, and with a sigh, you feel the weight on your chest lighten.

"I promise," you respond finally, your voice barely audible, but full of certainty. And for the first time in a long time, you feel that the most important decision you’ve made is the right one.

[thanosscross]

Baby - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader Part 3 Smut

Summary: After months of being together, everytime you sleep together it feels just like the first time still, but Seung Hyun throws a twist in this time

Warnings: Smut, lots of smut

Seven and a half months, that's how long it had been since Seong Hyun asked you to be his girlfriend, and while you were both reserved in public, you didn't hold back in the bedroom, as more time passed though, the more you learned about your lover, that in reality, the big ego, cocky, outgoing Seung Hyun was just for show, in reality, your boyfriend was basically a big teddy bear, one of the first males you met that was actually in touch with his feelings and fears, and wasn't afraid to admit it. He was your everything at the moment, you both came dependent on each other while still keeping to your independent natures, you could go days without seeing each other, but neither of you would really sleep well or truly relax until you were together again.

"Seung hyun" You whined, desperately trying to wake him up, it was a Saturday, meaning you both had the day free of any responsibilities, and while you had planned a day with your boyfriend, it seemed he had other plans of sleeping all morning. You couldn't lie though, he looked adorable laying curled up under his fluffy comforter, not to mention relaxed and peaceful, sighing you just climbed out of bed in defeat "Fine, I'll be back at noon" You threatened kissing his forehead gently, he just turned away tiredly, pulling the stuffed animal he had used as a pillow with him. You rolled your eyes giggling to yourself as you made your way out of the room looking around for anybody who was awake. "Bo-mi!" You heard the boys shouting in chorus, you just raised your eyebrows at them in confusion "Oh! y/n! We thought you were Seung hyun" Dae-Sung apologized sheepishly, blushing softly "You're fine, you guys are pretty too" You offered with a smile before making your way to the kitchen to get your morning (coffee or tea, just your choice of morning drink). Walking back with the mug, you sat next to Ji-yong glancing at the game they were playing on the tv.

You ended up playing with them for a good two hours before you all just ended up talking, it started out sweet, them complimenting you on how much you've changed Seung Hyun to where he's been a little more outgoing with things, you complimenting them on how hard they've been working lately, until they started interrogating you. "We never you see you anymore!" Ji-yong groaned "Seung Hyun stole you!" Dae-sung added, you laughed loudly hiding your face in your blanket you had wrapped around your body "He's my boyfriend!" You giggled loudly before looking towards him again "We miss you!" Tae-yung agreed crossing his arms "I miss you guys! But I practically live here! I'm right down the hall" You giggled, you could feel your face heating up as they continued "Don't think we can't hear what's happening in there! Oooo Seung hyun!" Ji-Yong teased mocking your words from the other night, whenever you thought you both were alone.

You squealed hiding your face again "Leave me alone! We're literally together! and adults!" You argued giggling loudly before looking to them "You all wouldn't understand, you're children" You giggled, they gasped at your comment before jumping and screaming out whenever they heard your boyfriend cough from the hallway "If I remember right it was, yesss, seung hyun" He stated making his way tiredly to you "You said you'd be back at noon" He frowned, you smiled at him, trying to hide the fact you were extremely flustered by the others knowledge of what exactly you sound like during sex. "Sorry, the boys are upset they don't see me as much" You giggled, Seung Hyun taking his rightful spot next to you on the couch, wrapping his arms around you tightly "They live with you?" He questioned before catching on laughing "Oh my!...you know..you guys are more than welcome to invite her to game or hangout, you just don't" He chuckled, you agreed, resting your head on his shoulder, only now realizing he had no shirt on, Not wanting to put him on the spot about his new found confidence you just smiled even wider hugging him "Not whenever you steal her!" Dae-sung whined, Seung Hyun just smirked "What you mean like this?" He asked before scooping you up with ease rushing to your bedroom, you screamed holding onto him tightly, not liking the fact he was running around corners with you in his arms.

As you got back into your room he smirked at you "Oh god, what do you want, my love?" You asked resting your hands on the base of his neck, admiring his eyes as he slowly lowered you down to your feet "You look really good in my clothes" He whispered stepping closer to you "You look really good with no shirt" You complimented, your words brought a bright pink hue to his cheeks as he blushed "You had my shirt" He protested shyly, you just shook your head giggling kissing him softly, Seung Hyun had other thoughts, taking the back of your neck in his hand as he pressed his lips against yours needier and rougher than you did. You just placed your hands in his hair, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer to him if possible. "What has gotten into you?" You teased as he pushed you down onto the bed "You have changed me" He growled against your neck, you tilted your head to the side allowing him more access as he continued "I feel..more myself with you, you let me live my life while still being a big part of it, you know just what to say, you're perfect" He whispered, you just now realizing his lips were pressed against your jaw "You're so sweet, but I didn't change anything, you did that, Seung Hyun" You smiled, moaning softly whenever he started to leave a trail of hickeys across your neck "See? Just what to say" He smirked against your skin, before pulling away to make eye contact with you "I love you" He said, causing you to stare at him in shock, you watched the emotions run over his face "I love you too" You finally found yourself saying looking into his dark eyes, his smirk returned before you pressed your lips to his.

Gasping as Seung Hyun lined himself up with your entrance, you glanced up to look at him, his eyes were trained between the two of you, more concerned about getting everything right so he didn't hurt you. You slowly raised a hand to his cheek, tilting his head slightly to look at you "You're okay" You smiled, nodding a bit before leaning up kissing him deeply, Seung Hyun took that as his sign to ahead, pushing his dick fully in, bottoming out before he brought his hands to your face, cupping his cheeks as he kissed you deeply.

It didn't matter how many times you guys fucked each other, it would always take you both by surprise, Seung Hyun groaned quietly panting against your lips as he slowly started thrust his hips, You weren't doing much better to compose yourself, running your nails down his back and chest, trying your best to stifle your moans so your eavesdropping roommates wouldn't hear. "gongjunim, baby, easy" He groaned against your lips, it wasn't that it hurt him, he just didn't want to cum this early, not only would it be embarrassing, but he also wanted to savor the feeling before he had a whole new week of writing and recording. You turned your hands from his back to his hands, which he quickly used the advantage to pin them above your head, interlacing your fingers together as the speed of his hips thrusting increased, you whimpered loudly wrapping your legs around his hips, his hand finding it's way to your clit, rubbing a mixture of circles and figure eights against it, pulling away from your lips, he leaned back, getting a full view of you underneath him.

Feeling conscious of everything on your body settled over you as you noticed Seung Hyun's staring, you bit your lip, looking away from his gaze "Baby..look at me" He whispered, resting his free hand on your stomach as his thrusts slowed, whimpering as his dick basically slammed in and out of you. Slowly you looked over to meet his gaze "You're breathtaking my love, just like the most beautiful waterfalls, the most expelling art piece, just like the beauty of true unfiltered pure art, and it's all mine" He whispered, you wanted to giggle, even as he basically taking away your ability to properly walk for the next day, he still finds a way to be as charming as possible. "I love you Seung Hyun" You giggled, pulling him closer to press your lips against his hungrily, between his fingers on your clit and him inside of you, you were desperate to cum, but his speed was like a constantly tease, bringing you to the edge before ripping it away. "Fucking Please Seung Hyun" You moaned, growing frustrated with his teasing antics you threw your head back "Huh?" He teased, smirking, you rolled your eyes, of course, you had done it once before, as a joke, and of course he wanted you to do it again. "I'm not doing that" You giggled "Please just actually fuck me, baby" You asked, purposely pitching your voice lower with a slight seductive tone, Seung Hyun squeezed your hip tightly, not liking the reaction his body had to your voice. He just persisted, only now his lips were attached to your nipple, swirling his tongue to match the movements of his fingers on your clit, you whined loudly, cheeks growing hot with a blush, of course he had to think one of your cringiest jokes was hot.

"Please fuck me, Top, I swear I know all the words to your songs, you're so fucking hot- God damnit please!" You whined, your tone going from annoyed to just frustrated, he just seemed to find enjoyment in your neediness and frustration. "I guess" He smirked against your skin, pulling his lips off with a pop, replacing them with his hand that wasn't between your legs. "Just remember, whenever your legs hurt later, you wanted it this badly" He teased before moving his hips at a pace you swear you had never felt before, you couldn't stop the moan that was pulled from your lips as you arched your back, his fingers increasing their speed on your clit as well. You ran your hands down his back, feeling it arch under your touch, you whimpered as he groaned against your collarbone, trying to stay mindful of the headboard not smacking against the wall.

As you got closer to your orgasm you felt Seung Hyun move your legs slightly higher on his waist, his hand going right back to your nipples after words "I'm not cumming until you do, Gongjunim" He grunted, you just squeezed his shoulders tightly in reply, knowing if he kept up with the abuse on your clit you'd definitely fall apart soon. Before Seung Hyun could say anything else you pulled his lips to yours, desperate to try and muffle your moans any ways you could, your legs squeezing tightly around his waist as your pussy squeezing his cock even tighter if possible. Seung Hyun moaned himself for the first time with you, tilting his head down as he dropped to his elbow propping him up "That's it baby, use me for anything you need" He whispered leaving a final hickey right above your left nipple, you whimpered loudly as you came around him, Seung Hyun waited a moment to catch his breath before grabbing your hips, groaning, still in love with the fact your hips fit perfectly in his hands. You bit your lip looking up at him, this time as he looked between the two of you, he had a different look in his eyes, he bit his lip as he started his pace again, this time alot more sloppy, he felt like he was about to explode, somehow harder than he had been in months, and the way you felt around him wasn't helping the situation, the closer he got to cumming, the worse it got. Noticing his pace starting to falter, you placed a hand on his chest pushing slightly to roll the both of you, positioning yourself to straddle him, you started to roll your hips against his. His grip on your hips tightened as his head fell back "Fuck, please don't stop, baby" He begged, his tone pitched slightly higher "Why would I stop, my love? You look fucking amazing like this" You asked pressing soft butterfly kisses down his jawline and neck, leaving hickeys as soon as you got to his collarbone, knowing that they needed to be hidden in order for him not to be in trouble.

Seung Hyun never realized how hot it'd be to have you on top, especially while having you try to boost his confidence, but here you were and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his cock even harder if possible. "Fuck! Fuck! Baby I'm so close" He groaned sitting up to bring your lips to his for a very sloppy kiss, a mixture of tongue and teeth connecting as you copied your previous movement, squealing as he dug his nails into your hips, holding them where they were, his hips lifting up to meet yours as he started to cum, you kissed him deeper as you felt the warm liquid spill into you. After a few minutes, Seung Hyun slowly shifted to lay you onto the bed and pull out of you, much to your dismay, you let him, not without giving him one last short kiss. "I swear..everytime is like the first time" He panted as he hid his face in the curve of your neck, you trailed your nails over the back of his hairline and down his neck, feeling him slowly catch his breath, you couldn't shake the thought you had the entire time Seung Hyun said I love you. "Baby?..are you okay?" His deep voice pulled you from your thoughts "I'm amazing..trust me..but..did you mean what you said?.." You asked nervously, now twisting his messy hair in-between your fingers "That I love you?" He asked, almost like he could read your mind, you just hummed in agreement "Of course I meant it, I wouldn't ever say something to you that I don't mean" He said, leaning away to be able to look you in the eyes "I love you, Y/n, You make me feel like a good..happy person" He smiled softly, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead "I love you too, then" You smiled, before starting to sit up "Shower with me?" You offered, he just smirked standing up offering his hand out to you, taking a moment to admire how truly amazing he looked naked. "Oh Y/nnn.." He called out in a teasing tone "You like?" He smirked turning to face you to pull you up out of bed "I very very much like, sir" You replied, placing your hands on his chest as you walked him backwards into the bathroom.

--

You like? No seriously though, I tried my best but everything today kept snapping me out of the zone, so I apologize it's not my usual smutty work

[foone]

Annoying edge case for lycanthropy: a dragon who is also a werewolf.

(A short story I wrote back in 2022 for twitter. I've slightly re-edited it, but it's still "twittery" in how it uses linebreaks (because there used to be post-boundaries there). Sorry! )

So on the full moon, they uncontrollably turn into… A much smaller and squishier humanoid. They can't wait to get their scales and fire breath and wingspan back. They're so vulnerable in their werewolf form!

No one at the werewolf support meetings is sympathetic.

They're all humans or nearly, so one of them is like "it's just so scary. I'm huge, and inhuman, and I feel like I'm made of weapons, with my claws. Everyone fears me, and I fear myself sometimes, never knowing what I might do, if I lose control and just let the rage out…" And the werewolf-dragon is like "and then you turn into a werewolf! It's so annoying, I agree"

Everyone else just turns to look at them, slowly

They do take some tips about werewolf safety. They just do it backwards, because instead of making sure they can't get out and cause death and destruction, it's more about making sure no one can get in and attack them in their merely nigh-invulnerable werewolf form. When you're a dragon, turning into a nearly unkillable rage monster of claws and fangs is a major downgrade. It's a real moment of weakness, and who knows if your ancient enemies or some upstart knight is going to try to take advantage of that moment of weakness?

They get infinitely more annoyed when they finally find a witch who can do the right ceremony and lift the curse of lycanthropy. "there… With the burning of this silver candle, you are finally free. You're human in all moonphases, now." "WAIT A FUCKING SECOND, HUMAN?!"

They got turned into the humanized version of their werewolf form. Permanently.

Always read the fine print before asking a witch to do a complicated magical ritual on you.

"also, question: how the hell did you burn a silver candle? Isn't the melting point of silver…" "one thousand eight hundred degrees, yes. It wasn't easy. Look. "

She pulls back a curtain and points. There's a complicated bellows system being vigorously pumped by a bunch of little black cats, each wearing a tiny witch's hat. They're sweating with exertion and the heat.

"we're done, my lovelies. You can stop now" The kitties hop down off the bellows and lie down at her feet, or wander off looking for food. The witch looks down at the former dragon, now barely 5 feet tall. "why do you think I asked for my fee in cat food?"

"but it was ALL cat food. Don't you need to-" The former dragon pauses mid-sentence, as the witch pulls off her traditional witchy headwear to reveal two pointy feline ears. "you were saying?"

"nevermind. Thanks, I guess." The dragon walks to the door, then turns around. "hey, I need to find out how to be a human, would you happen to know anything or anyone I can ask?" The witch looks up from sitting on the floor with a leg behind her head, licking the inside of her thigh "wouldn't have a clue, sorry love", she says with a smile.

The witch has to show up later and bail the former dragon out of jail. Apparently they accosted a city guard after being told "you can't just wander around the city naked". The dragon told them to contact the catwitch because it's not like they know any other humanoids.

The guard wasn't physically hurt, but getting jumped by a small naked human after merely pointing out you need to wear trousers or a dress or something in public is the kind of thing that leaves mental scars that'll take a while to fade.

Even if your tiny nude opponent was mainly trying to scratch or bite you with claws or fangs they no longer have

The former dragon ends up living with the catwitch. She could use some help with the bellows, and even if the dragon can no longer provide her own fire, they still know a lot about it.

And even if they're now a short little weakling who has to be reminded to wear clothes, they are a bit better at pumping the bellows than a pack of kittens.

Plus they can help with making potions and such in ways the cats can't, what with having thumbs.

They live together for a while, until the grumpy now-human finds out that another dragon has taken up residence in their former hoard.

And that will just not do!

So the dragon convinces the catwitch to come with them on an adventure to raid their own hoard and defeat (or at least evict) the dragon.

So they set out, the former dragon having to figure out the weaknesses in their own defenses and how to navigate a space built for dragons, not tiny humanoids. They're wearing the minimum in clothing they can get away with, and wielding a sword almost bigger than they are.

And following, the catwitch with a broom and a big sack of magical devices and reagents, and a little procession of kittens in their hats.

(the former dragon uses they/them pronouns. Their human body does have a sex, but when gender was explained to them they called it a "foolish human thing" and never bothered with it, just like their opinions on silverware and public indecency laws)

As far as anyone can tell, dragons have only one gender, and it's dragon.

Anyone who has asked further questions about dragon gender, sex, or reproduction has ended up crispy and good with ketchup.

They manage to evict the squatting dragon, and the witch is like "well, I guess you got nearly everything you want now. I'll take my cats back to the city…" And the ex-dragon is like "WAIT… I was thinking, maybe you could… Use my hoard as a new shop? There's plenty of room"

"are you asking me to stay?" "n-no… I mean, yes? Shut up. It's just because it would be a good place for you. After all, your shop has that leaky roof, and you were running out of storage space, and the mayor always wanted you kicked out…"

"oh I see, so it's just for me? How kind. You don't care either way, right?" "right! I don't care! I don't need or want you around! I don't care about silly human things" "human?" she asks with a smile, wiggling her ears on the top of her head. "shut up you know what I mean"

"so you don't want me to stay around you? You don't have a reason why you want to be near me, to be with me?" she says "with" with a certain slant on it, as she rests her arm on the shoulder of the former dragon, having to lean over her to reach. "n-n-n…"

The witch switches to cupping the former dragon's face in her palms. "and your face is so warm, little one. Are you trying to breathe fire? You're turning red, so maybe you are…"

"stop it! I… I just…" "yes?" the witch lets go, but her tail curls around the waist of the former dragon, like they are walking hand in hand down a beach.

"I like you, alright? I want you to stay. I want to be with you! Is that so wrong?"

"nope!" says the witch, happily pulling them into a kiss.

We zoom out, past a pile of gold coins and goblets and scepters, as little black kittens in adorable hats play in the hoard, ambushing each other in play-fights from the high ground of a treasure chest.

[aandvarchaeology]

You can read a bit more about this amazing axe head here! It's worth noting that it was bought on the art market and thus comes without any context. But judging by the silver, it was definitely dug up from somewhere.

(Btw, the British Museum has an earlier example of a silver inlaid axe here!)

If you want to know why the silver tells me that this axe head was found in the ground and read some nerdery about iron restoration you can find it below!

This is a detail of the blade taken from the second picture. The rust spots and holes are easy to see, as is the pitting around the silverwork. There are a few explanations for that, but the two most important ones are that since silver is far softer than steel (pure silver being at 2.5-3 on the Mohs scale, while steel is at 4-4.5) it wasn't possible to mechanically restore the surface without damaging the silver.

And you may have noticed that the silver doesn't look particularly silver-y. That's because this axe head spent at least some time in the ground where the silver reacted with chloride ions to so called "horn silver" chlorargyrite! Chlorargyrite is softer than normal silver (1-2 on the Mohs scale) and corrossive to lesser metals like iron, making it even harder to preserve in restoration and at the same time contributing to the stronger pitting around the silver inlay.

In addition to the rust and pitting, we also see spots on the blade, that are light grey. These are even more egregious along the top edge, especially near the socket:

These are spots were the old surface was accidentally removed during restoration (can happen very quickly with some artefacts and it's bloody annoying) showing the bare iron/steel. I would assume that they started restoration from the top edge (where the damage is worst) and knew to be a little more careful by the time they reached the blade.

I will have to check with my colleague next week, but I think the straight lines on the blade (marked in green) combined with the extremely flat surface and the sharp edges of the rust pits (marked in red) show that the rust on the blade was removed with a micromotor grinding tool.

While this is useful, especially for particularly hard bits of corrossion, one should stop a few milimetres above the suspected original surface to avoid what happened here: After using the micromotor, the rest of the corrossion needs to be removed with a micro sandblasting unit, but since there was little to no corrossion left after grinding, the sand went too deep and removed the old surface as well in many places.

In conclusion: This axe head is a lovely case study on archaeological conservation as well as being very pretty. I will try to remember to report back next week with any additions my colleague may have and if you have any more questions about archaeological iron restoration or this piece in particular, feel free to hit me up!

~Mod A

Steel and silver axe head, Scandinavian, 11th-12th Century

From the Met Museum

[lanafofana]

lana, may i humbly request a teeny bit of rookanis please? with or without spite, up to you

Anything for you Doe! ‘In the hands of a master the simplest of weapons was transformed into an artist’s tool. When he moved, the blade acted as an extension of his very will. Light flickered off the edge like a dance echoed in the perfect choreography of an a—

“Rook.”

The quill made a wet inky smear across the page as it slipped from between Bellara’s startled fingers. Below her perch, the thunk of blade against cutting board seemed a tad more menacing when one realized Spite was on the other end of it.

“Spite. Hello.” Rook’s voice was warm and friendly as always. Privately Bellara marveled that her protagonist boss was so unflappable in the weirdest of situations. “Does Lucanis know that you’re…um. What are you doing?”

“Preparing. Food. Feed the.” Spite growled, low and guttural, as if slipping out of the range of his vocabulary and displeased by it.

“Are you making dinner for everyone?” Rook supplied, her voice slowly approaching as she drew closer to see what Spite had wrought of their provisions.

“Yes,” confirmed Spite.

“I see. That’s, well,” faltered Rook. “I think that’s potentially very nice. Well done trying to help Lucanis with meals. I do have one question though, just a thought. Feel free to not answer.”

“Ask. Question!”

“Do you have any idea what to feed, um, people?”

Spite was silent for a long moment. The sounds of a knife slicing through something and hitting the cutting board started up again, slowly at first and then gaining more speed. And then, finally, Spite said: “Cut into pieces, collect into pot, fire!”

“I see you’ve been paying attention to Lucanis’ cooking,” Rook’s voice noted, amused. “Perhaps I can answer any questions you might have on what types of things you should be cutting into pieces.”

“Types,” grunted Spite.

“Types of food,” said Rook. “Cheese. Bread. Fresh things, you know like, uh, fruits and vegetables. Fish, venison, pork…that mystery jerkey Solas left behind in the back.”

“Mystery…” Spite’s knife paused on the cutting board. “This? Not. Food?”

“No,” said Rook, sounding relieved their impromptu lesson on digestible ingredients had taken root. “No. That’s not food.”

“Start. Over?” Spite demanded, sounding torn between anger and, just detectable in the lilt of his pout, frustration.

“That’s alright. You learned a new thing anyway,” said Rook. “Tell you what, I’ll take care of dinner tonight and next time I’ll teach you something easy you can make everyone. All by yourself if you really want.”

Spite growled.

“Or we can make it a group effort. See if Manfred wants to learn a new recipe besides tea and those little sandwiches.”

“Curiosity doesn’t? Know recipe?”

“I haven’t taught them anything in the kitchen so I don’t really know. Probably not.”

“Rook teach Spite,” declared Spite suddenly. “Not Curiosity!”

“How will Curiosity, I mean Manfred, learn something new then?”

Spite nearly shouted in his excitement. “Spite! Teach! Curiosity!” Spite laughed, a hoarse dry cackle that raised the hairs on the back of Bellara’s neck.

“If you like,” said Rook gamely. “For now, if you grab me some onions from the back I can show you a couple other ways to cut up vegetables.”

The sound of the knife clattering to the table was followed by the retreat of footsteps as Spite retrieved the onions. Bellara leaned out of her hiding spot and could just barely see Rook’s profile as she cleared whatever Spite had been diligently dicing into the garbage bin.

“Rook?” Lucanis, having just emerged from the pantry, blinked sleepily as he looked from the onions in his hands to Rook, confusion bleeding into dismay.

“Spite thought you could use a break from cooking,” Rook said, taking the onions from him and returning to the kitchen. “Might have a point too, you look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lucanis.”

The assassin set his jaw. “I’m fine.”

Rook’s grip on the onions tightened before her shoulders drooped and she sighed. “None of us are fine, Lucanis.” The sound of a knife slicing through onion started up and the crinkle of paper onion skin being discarded followed. “It’s alright to depend on us as much as we depend on you.”

“Are you giving me one of your famous pep talks?”

“Only if it’s working.”

“Hmm,” Lucanis joined Rook in the kitchen. His arms folded while he watched her knife work. “You should take your own advice some time.”

Rook looked at him from the corner of her eye. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t always have to be the one to pick up the slack. Let someone else cook, you’ve been going at full speed ever since—”

“I’m fine.”

“Ah,” said the assassin with a smile Bellara didn’t have to see to know was gracing the curve of his lips. “Of course.”

Rook’s hands stilled and she shot Lucanis an annoyed look. “Point taken, Dellamorte.” She hesitated, head dipping down, and then sighed as if very gently releasing a hidden pressure valve in her chest. “Sometimes I think if I stand in one place too long, my secret will be out.”

Lucanis tilted his head to one side, “And what secret is that?”

A hollow, self deprecating laugh shook loose in the silence. “What an utter fraud I am.”

“Nobody who has seen you do the things you have could think you’re a fraud.”

Rooks hair moved as she shook her head. “I wasn’t meant for this. Leadership? Me? I don’t know what I’m doing and any minute it feels like someone’s going to call my bluff.”

“Nobody questions your leadership,” said Lucanis, still staring at Rook’s face as if waiting for it to crack open and reveal the secrets hidden within.

“Maybe they should,” she retorted.

“Rook.”

“Lucanis,” she parroted.

“Are all Lords of Fortune as insufferable as you are?”

“No,” Rook laughed. “I’m one of a kind.”

“I was already aware of that.” Bellara felt her heart swell to burst and clamped her mouth shut on a squeal before it could escape.

Rook sucked in a breath and finally tilted her head to meet the assassin’s eyes. “Now who’s giving the pep talk?”

“I told you, did I not?” Lucanis closed the distance between them and nuzzled his face into her hair, hands on her hips. “When you doubted yourself, I would be here to remind you how magnificent you are.”

“Magnificent is a bit much, don’t you think?”

Lucanis was adamant. “Magnificent,” he murmured into her hair. “Magnificent,” he said against the warm freckled skin of her neck. With a deft touch he removed the knife from her hand and placed it with the onions. Tugging on her hands Lucanis drew her away from the kitchen and into a soft embrace. “Magnificent,” he promised.

“Sap,” Rook scoffed through a smile. “What are we going to do about dinner?”

Lucanis grinned. “Bellara volunteered.”

From her perch Bellara’s heart stuttered.

“She did?” Rook asked as Lucanis led her away towards the main door.

“She did,” confirmed Lucanis.

From her corner Bellara peered around the edge of her hiding spot and locked eyes with the crow. He winked before ushering Rook out of the building.

[later, in another part of the lighthouse] Emmrich: where the devil are my gloves Manfred: *innocent hiss*

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

most underrated milex moment in your opinion

oooh great question! honestly SO many moments come to mind, but for me i think the prize has to go to this one: alex watching miles perform in 2012 (and miles dedicating colour of the trap to him “this one’s for you, baby!”)

i mean. his expression just says it all, doesn’t it? the quiet wonder, the awe. the total and complete focus, the adoration bordering on worship. it’s… a lot 😭 i also think this moment of alex watching miles performing during their 2016 tour together is WILDLY underrated for just how loud and just how non platonic it is:

then i feel like this moment of them full on having a little kiss during rockwave isn’t talked about as much as it should be???

and also the entire subtext in the bad habits music video. like we talk about how insane miracle aligner is (because it is), but i don’t think we talk enough about how fully deranged the narrative implications and cinematography in bad habits are too 😭🤦🏻‍♀️

i feel like there are so many casual touches between them which are underrated too for how totally, totally non-platonic they are. like they touch each other casually in places that are just inherently so intimate and romantic, not at all the kind of places you’d touch friends. SO many examples of this, but these are two of my favourites:

finally, this award acceptance speech. they’re so ridiculously besotted and wrapped up in each other it’s borderline unbearable to watch lol. alex really wasn’t lying when he said it’s rare for them not to look like they’re about to snog each other 🫠 (here they look like they’re two seconds away from doing far more than that 🤦🏻‍♀️)

there are undoubtedly many more underrated moments (especially as i think we become a little desensitised here to some of them because of the sheer volume of insane moments between them), but those are the first few favourites that came to mind! if anyone has any other underrated moments they’d like to add please feel free to go ahead! 🥰

[official-penis-posts]

Hello! I stumbled upon your blog and have just been scrolling through, and I saw one of the anons you got said docs say not to put t on your clit. That's not *fully* true. I've had two separate docs say it's a decent delivery route *if it's in cream form*. Gel is alcohol based which will very much irritate the mucous membrane of the vulva and clitoris, but cream is not! I use cream directly on my clit once daily in addition to weekly injections and I'm v v happy with how things are going bottom growth wise, and the sensation of cream on clit is slightly tingly and warm but not outright painful, it's slightly uncomfortable at absolute worst. The problem with cream is it's not readily available like gel is, you have to get it compounded and that's significantly more expensive. If you'd like, you can feel free to message me if you've got any questions and I'd be happy to answer as best as I can :) it's also chill if you don't post this or message, I just thought I'd put in my knowledge since I'm nearly a year on t with this particular route. <3

I’m happy to post this, thanks for offering to share your experience with others!

[william-t-sickofyourshit]

“Yes, think about it, assess the pros and cons… and once you decide, just call me.” doctor Chalman nodded with a soft smile. “And of course, feel free to call if you have any additional questions about the treatments. I’m more than happy to explain everything to you.” she reassured. She was so helpful throughout this whole process, William felt extremely happy that they had found doctor Chalman. She was a professional, but also so kind and understanding.

William did notice that this news distraught and upset Sebastian. Despite the surgery being successful, and his results quite good in general, the treatment was not yet over. So William couldn’t really blame him for focusing on the scary unknown, instead of on the good news. But he was sure once the initial shock will pass, and Sebastian will learn some more about the treatment options from the materials they just received, he will see the silver lining as well.

It completely went over William’s head that they may also be another reason for Sebastian to worry. It just… didn’t occur to him that his appearance may be such a big factor in this. Of course, William knew how particular Sebastian was about this subject, how he freaked out over turning 30 and worrying there will be grey hair soon. But… well, this was about his health. So surely Sebastian wasn’t thinking about this so… shallowly. William definitely wasn’t, so he completely didn’t think of this, didn’t realize this was on Sebastian’s mind right now.

But noticing Sebastian’s distress, William took it upon himself to wrap things up here. “Thank you, doctor Chalman, we will sleep on this and call you, for sure.” he said, squeezing Sebastian’s hand. “Right, darling?” 

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[shesoutofhere]

With Perfection Comes Obsession

Hockey James Potter x Figure Skater Reader

Summary- You're back in the rink, training for a medal you lost out on the year before. Nothing is going to get in your way this year. Or so you think.

Warnings- Description of a panic attack, Unhealthy habits

Wordcount- 10k

Translation: Lapin - Rabbit

Ignore all typos <3

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

Spin

“Again”

Spin

“Again

Spin

“Again”

You hit the ice just as aggressively as you did the time before that. You're finding it hard to breathe and everything aches. 

“Again Lapin!”

You pump your legs, moving them fast and hard. You're mid-jump when you hear the shrieking of the arena buzzer. Thrown off, your footing is off and you fall to your knees. 

You hear your coach scoff, moving to get off the ice. You get up, wincing at the sting in your knees, that’ll be a nasty bruise. 

When you walk off the ice, Coach hands you your blade covers. You mentally prepare yourself for the lecture you’ll receive when you return to the locker room. 

You feel a tight grip on your arm. Okay, looks like you’ll get your lecture right here.

“Lapin, If you get distracted by a buzzer, what makes you think you’ll be fine in an arena full of people? Have you learned nothing from your last performance?” 

She asks you questions but doesn’t give you time to respond, she immediately cuts in. “And your jumps, how is it that you haven’t managed to master your jumps? You are well past the age to be scared of falling. Your hesitation will cost you this title.” 

Silence falls over the both of you, Coach has her hands on her sides and just stares. You know what she's doing. She’s thinking of how you’ll be punished for this oh-so-horrible performance today. 

“Tomorrow you will march yourself to the management office and ask for an extended time.”  

Your eyes go wide, “Coach, they’ll never give me more time. And what about my professors? They’re already at their wits end with me being gone all the time.”

Coach’s eyes sharpen, “I’m sorry, have your priorities changed? Am I wasting your time Lapin? Cause if that’s the case then say so, and may we be free of this doomed partnership.”

You cower under her stare, “No, no of course not Coach, I’ll talk to management tomorrow and see what deal I can work up with my professors.” 

Pleased with the conversation going her way, Coach smiles. “Good, I’ll see you soon.” 

With that, she saunters off, reaching for her phone to call god knows who.

When you’re sure she’s out of eyesight you slump down onto the bench next to you. You close your eyes and take a minute to finally catch your breath. You bring your hand to your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the tightness and discomfort. 

The bench shakes and you hear something hit the ground with a thud. You open one eye and close it again when you see who it is who’s disturbed your peace. 

“How oh how will you ever convince management to give you any more practice time?” 

You sigh, hoping that if you ignore the nuisance next to you, he’ll get the hint and leave you alone. 

“They won’t even give the team extra time, let alone one person.” 

You open your eyes and turn to look at the boy sitting next to you. “I can be very persuasive.” 

James, who’s lacing up his skates, mumbles a quiet “Don’t I know it.”

You stand up and gather your things. “Who Knows James, win some games and maybe you’ll get the extra time you need.” 

James pauses his movement, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

 It’s a sore subject and you know it. After Peter Pettigrew, one of the university's star players decided to transfer, James and the rest of the team have been dethroned. They’ve known no peace since then and are grappling with everything to win this season. 

James turns back to his laces. “Hey and maybe if you learn to stop being so skittish on the ice, you’ll land that jump for once Lapin.” 

This is why you’ll never feel bad for being so hostile toward James. He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and you lose your mind every day knowing that everybody has fallen for his golden boy act. 

You throw your bag over your shoulder, swatting at the back of James' head on your way out of the arena. 

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

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the management office. You’ve gone over every possible excuse that could convince them to give you more time. You will convince them, or Coach will have your head on a platter. You’ll butter up the sweet old lady who works the front desk, you’ll dazzle her, and she’ll sign whatever she needs to. 

With one final pep talk, you walk into the office and freeze at the door. 

Shit. 

It’s not the sweet old lady. 

Sitting at the front desk is Remus Lupin. ‘This is fine’ you try to convince yourself.

You saunter up to the desk “Good morning Remus, you look fantastic today, do anything different with your hair?” 

Remus puts his book down, looking up with a sweet smile, “No, did the same thing I always do. How can I help you?” 

 You lean onto the counter and start messing with the pen jar. “You, my love, can sign off on my extra ice time.” you choose not to make eye contact, continuing to swivel the pens around the jar. 

Remus sighs, dragging your name out, “You know I can’t approve any more time for you, the school won’t allow it.” 

You stomp your foot out of habit, “ But Remus, I got all my professors to give me as many extensions as I need, really all I need is for you to say yes.” 

Remus, always bursting your bubble, “It’s not about class love, It’s about your health. You know how the system works.” 

You groan and bring your head down onto the counter. You knew this would be your biggest obstacle. All athletes have to adhere to certain rules. The university claims that it’s to protect the athlete's health but everyone knows it's so they don’t get backlash for overworking their student-athletes. You're allotted a certain amount of hours but anything over that has to be flagged and reported. 

“Listen,” Your head shoots up, “I can maybe convince them to a lot you a bit more time, but you’ve got to go to your physical therapy sessions. Doc has to report when you don’t show you know.”

“Okay yes, fine, I pinky promise that I will see Doc, and stretch and stay off the ice for 30 minutes after eating, and-” 

Remus cuts you off with a laugh, “Okay, okay I get it. I’ll talk to the board and see what I can do.” 

You squeal, reaching over the counter to smack a kiss on Remus’s forehead. “You are a lifesaver Remus Lupin.” 

Remus just shakes his head, “Yeah yeah, whatever, get out of here.” 

You happily skip out of the office, so happy, that not even running into James Potter in his gear could upset you. 

You offer a simple “James” and go to walk past him. 

“Woah, what's got you all happy?” 

You give him a sly smile, “Oh nothing, I’m just having a lovely morning.”

James furrows his brows at you, “Okayyy. Was Rem in the office?” 

You nod at him, “Yes, my sweet, beautiful, lovely Remus is in there. How he’s friends with the lot of you, I’ll never understand.”

James is insulted but is weirded out more than anything. 

Not caring to interact any further you wave goodbye. 

James, still confused, continues into the office. 

You don’t get far down the before James is yelling your name down the hallway. You roll your eyes, continuing on your way. You hear thumping and there’s a yank on your wrist. 

You yelp out of surprise. James without a word is dragging you back towards the office. You both enter and Remus is shaking his head. 

You rip your wrist out of James' grip, “I’d like that back thank you.” 

You smile at Remus, “Hi love, so good to see you again.” 

“Likewise.” 

James snaps his fingers, “Quit it you two, Remus just told me you’re getting more time on the ice.” 

“Why yes I am. I told you James, do better at your sport and good things come your way.” 

“Guys please don’t start. I don’t want to have to kick you out again,” Remus says.

James disregards your insult, “You can’t get more time, you’re already maxed out on hours, they’ll never approve it.”

You shake your head in faux symphony “Oh James, I told you I was very persuasive.” 

This seems to bring his attention back to his friend. “You” he points a finger aggressively toward Remus’s direction, “How could you say yes? You're the iron wall, no one shakes you down.”

Remus gives a weak shrug, “Okay, I wasn’t shaken down, we made a deal” 

James rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“She’ll see Doc, every appointment, she has to go.” 

James looks confused. “How is that a deal? It's protocol.” 

“Wellll” Remus drags.

The look on James’ face darkens. His attention is on you now. “You don’t see the Doc?” 

You try not to be intimidated by his glare. “I just don’t see the point of seeing him after every practice. I mean come on, my body is my instrument, of course, I know how to take care of it.” 

Whatever lightness was in the air, is gone now. James is genuinely upset and you can’t wrap your head around why. 

“Are you kidding me, so what, you’ve just been skipping out on all your appointments?”

All you can do is shrug. Remus, who can sense the shift in the atmosphere, tries to intervene. “Look, I don’t even know if it’s a guarantee, I still have to ask the board.”

Your heart drops. “No. I need the time. You said you’d get me the time.” 

Remus, who has unfortunately been caught in both James and your fury, doesn't know how to turn this conversation around. 

“And what about your work, do you even go to class anymore?” 

“I’m doing great in all my classes.”

“That doesn't answer whether you're going.” 

“What does it matter? Virtual or not, It’s only until after the competition.” 

James takes his glasses off and rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “So, just like that, you get the time, extensions on school work, and a pass from all the appointments you missed with Doc.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it James, are you jealous, is that what it is?” 

This strikes a nerve in James. “You think that's what this is about?”

“Well” you throw your hands up, “what else could be?”

James puts his glasses back on and steps up to you, “You know what, if you want to overwork yourself and fuck up any chance you get at the actual competition, go ahead, seems like everyone is right behind you.” with that, James storms out the office. 

Remus walks out from behind the desk and gives a light squeeze to your shoulder, “I don’t understand why you two work each other up so much.” 

“He’s wrong,” you say quietly. Remus listens. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I need this Remus, I need to win this. I need to show everyone that I can do it.” 

Remus, with a sad look in his eyes, pulls you in for a hug. “Everyone knows you can, you’re amazing.” 

You sigh and pull away. “It doesn’t matter how good I am, all everyone sees now is the girl who messed up last year. All my hard work was reduced to one stupid mistake. I have to get it right this time.” 

Remus just sighs, he’s seen this version of you before, and he doesn’t like where it’s going.

He grabs you by the shoulders, “Promise that you’ll go to Doc.” 

“Promise that you’ll get me my time.”

He sticks out his pinky, encouraging you to lock yours with his. You do. 

“Thank Rem” 

“Don’t make me regret love.” 

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

To everyone's surprise, the board does accept your request for additional time. You're ecstatic. Coach won’t show it but you know she’s semi-impressed. 

With the new time, the ending of your practice marked the beginning of the kid's ice class. Every time you did any sort of jump or spin you could hear a dozen little aws and wows. 

You felt fantastic, Coach was in a decent mood, and practice was long but the scary women had minimal feedback. For the first time in a long time, you felt on top of the world.  

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” 

You walk off the ice, putting your guards on. Coach gives you final pointers and is out of the building before you can say bye. 

You sat on the bench, undoing the laces of your skates when a group of the girls from before comes up to you. They flutter around you, asking all sorts of questions and giving endless praises. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel your heart swell with pride and joy. 

You're talking about costumes when you hear your name being called. Standing towards the entryway are Doc and James. 

You knew this day was going to well, you had forgotten that today was your scheduled appointment with Doc. As for James, every time you see him your day is ruined. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the whole incident in the office. Remus had tried to get the both of you to make amends but neither of you had the intention of doing so. 

You put your slipper on and make your way over to pair. 

“Hey remember me? Long time no see.” You know Doc is trying to be silly but your heart beating faster at the mere thought of having to get checked up. 

The bespectacled figure clears his throat. “Haven't you heard Doc, our ice princess got more ice time so she's been pretty busy.”

You cross your arms. Reaching a hand to rest on your sternum, feeling a slight tug at every breath you take. 

Doc disregards James petty comment, immediately picking up on your discomfort. “You okay?” 

James looks puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two of you, looking for whatever he missed. 

You shrug. “Yeah, it's just, well..you know.” Doc just nods. 

“Know what?” James blurts out. From the look on his face, you can tell that he didn't mean to say that out loud. 

You frown, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, well it’s none of your business is it.” 

“OKAY,” Doc yells, cutting both of you off. “James I’ll do what we talk about, now move along.” 

James lingers for a bit before he finally walks off. 

“Now you” Doc starts, “Shall come with me.” 

You know that there isn’t any way to avoid this and follow right behind him. 

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

Doc makes small talk throughout your checkup. You give replies, trying your best not to come off like you don’t want to be there. 

You’re in the middle of doing a stretch when Doc says “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” 

You lay on your back and bring a knee up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

Doc hums, “I think we should.”

You bring your leg down and lift the other to your chest “Okay, well then I guess.”

Doc stands at your side and offers a hand to bring you up from the ground. You sit on the ground and Doc sits in front of you. “I need you to know that what I did, was not only part of my job as your doctor but as someone who cares deeply for you lot.” 

You fidget with your fingers as Doc continues. “And I had to report the appointments that you were missing. I know you guys like to joke around with me but I am a healthcare provider before anything else and you can loathe me all you want but know my actions are never meant to harm you.”

Ugh, you feel like such an asshole now. “I don’t hate you Doc, I know you're just doing your job. I think-” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, “I think in my head If I didn’t do my checkups, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell me that something could potentially be wrong.” 

Doc nods, and you continue “I should’ve listened to you back then, with or without the jump I would've lost anyway.” You say with a sad smile. “This time has to be different, I have to land that jump, I have to win this one.” 

Doc gives you an odd look. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, you need to take care of yourself. I won’t watch you hurt yourself for this again, will you hate me then?”

You feel your body stiffen, you need this, so you think you might. 

“I mean it when I say this one is mine this year.” you have never been more serious in your life. 

“Oh trust me, I believe you.” 

It doesn’t have to be said, but you think that you and Doc might be a bit further apart than before. 

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

You’re counting down the weeks. The competition is getting closer with each day that passes. You’ve spent more time at the arena over the past couple of weeks than you have in your dorm. 

Practice isn’t until later today, but you ambushed Remus when he was walking into the rink this morning. 

Now here you are, skating freely in the dimly lit rink. Remus gets horrible migraines and chooses to leave the lights off for as long as he can. 

You glide across the rink, twisting and turning whenever you please. Some time has passed when you come to a stop. All you can hear is the sound of your labored breath. You do your breathing techniques, trying your best to regulate your heartbeat. 

Your nerves spike back up when you see James skating towards you and feel speed. 

He halts right in front of you. “Are you okay?” 

All you can do is nod, not being able to form words quite yet. James doesn’t say anything else for a while. He watches and waits as you catch your breath. 

When you seem to have calmed down he jumps to question you. “What on earth was that?” 

You shrug, “I just got a bit winded I guess.” He blinks at you, “That's not the first time it happened though.” 

James, always so annoyingly inquisitive. 

“I’m fine James, where the hell did you come from anyway? The rink isn’t open yet.” 

You both kick into a slow skate around the rink. “That's rich, considering you’re here too. Also, you forget that Remus is one of my best friends.”

“How could I forget, you remind me every time I interact with him.” 

“Well, that's because I can’t seem to understand what hold you’ve got over him. He folds instantly when it comes to you. You know I had to beg him for 20 minutes to let me in.” 

You give a triumphant smile, “Remus and I have a bond that exceeds any and all relationship types, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

James scowls, ‘Stop talking about your special bond with Remus.” 

“Jealous?” 

“No!” James responded a bit too quickly. “More like deeply disturbed.” 

“Not as disturbing as you and Sirius,” you say, skating a bit faster to get ahead of him. 

“Hey! Don’t bring Sirius into this.” 

You tsk, “So quick to defend his honor. Tell him I’m still waiting on our date by the way.” 

“Oh please, Sirius goes on dates with anything that moves so don’t hold your breath.” Whatever honor and respect James had for his best friend earlier is out the window. 

You hum, not offering him a real response. James, changing the subject, “Was that a routine earlier?” 

“A routine with no music?” you ask sarcastically.

James rolls his eyes, “I'm just asking because it looked familiar.” 

Familiar? Why would it look familiar? 

“Spend your days off watching figure skating routines?” you say as you skate backward in front of him. 

He shakes his head, “No, just yours.” he doubles down quickly, “Well cause, we skate at the same rink and all that.” 

It’s too late, what he’s said has already gone to your head. You bring a hand to your heart mockingly, “The James Potter, Hockey legend, watches my routines. What an honor.”

James makes a face at you, “Oh whatever, forget I said anything.” 

You continue “I can’t believe I am skating with James Potter.” you say as you skate around him. 

James can’t help but laugh. “Okay quit it you’re gonna make me dizzy. God knows how you spin the way you do without throwing up.”

You continue at his side. “Years and years of practice.” 

“So, the routine, what's it from?” 

You let out a long sigh, “It was bits and pieces from my finals routine last year.” 

James says a quiet ‘oh’ 

“Mhm” is all you can offer back.

“I was there, you know?” James fidgets with his glasses. “Well, I mean, me and the whole team—half of the university, really.” 

This shocks you. You knew a lot of peers and locals from your university town showed overwhelming support, but for some reason, knowing James was there makes you…happy? 

“Well, you picked the worst one to turn up to.” You try to make a light-hearted joke, but it doesn’t work. 

James comes to a stop on the ice. You stop with him. “You really scared everyone.” 

You scoff, “More like disappointed everyone.” 

“No” James replies sharply, “I can assure you that no one in that arena was disappointed and you’ve got to stop thinking that.” 

You feel an argument brewing. “And what about you James? What did you feel? Please share with the gallery.”

“I-”  he pauses for a second. “I was scared too, and then I was angry.” 

“Angry?” 

He nods, “Angry. I was angry at you. I was angry that you’d attempt to do something so-” 

He cuts himself off, trying to restrain himself.

“Something so what James? Go on say it” You egg him on.

He yanks his glasses off his face, a habit he has when he’s frustrated. “Fine! Something so stupid. I couldn’t, for the life of me wrap my head around why you would purposely do something so stupid.” James doesn’t stop there. “I couldn’t understand why you would disregard Doc's orders. I was angry that you had such little regard for yourself and your body.” James throws his hands up,” and all for what?”  

You clench your fist tight at your side. You feel the anger flare up inside you. “All for what?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that how you see what I do?” 

James doesn’t respond. His silence only angers you more. “I did what I thought was necessary okay? I worked too hard all last year to just give it up. I made a mistake, I understand that, and I have spent every moment since then trying to make it up.”

You inch closer towards James, “Do you know how humiliating it is to have all my hard work be reduced down to one single mistake? I am perfect my whole career but the second I have one slip-up I'm stripped of all my wins, all my medals. Everything I’ve worked for, completely disregarded.”

James stares at you with wide eyes. “Is this what this is about? About ruining your perfect reign? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

You groan, “I could hold my tongue hearing this from anyone else, but you of all people James, Seriously? You are such a hypocrite.” 

James glares at you. “And what exactly are you alluding to?”

“You,” you say, shoving a finger in his chest, “are a hypocrite. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing. Ever since Pete left you have been overcompensating, trying to fill a role all by yourself. The late night and early morning practices. Taking on extra responsibility on the ice. Spreading yourself thin to make it to nationals. 

“That’s different.” 

You laugh “How on earth is different James?” you can't believe this guy. 

“It’s different because It’s temporary until we find someone else. It’s different because I take care of myself. It’s different because it’s a whole team of us that care about each other. Yeah, I'm stepping up right now but I can always step back and rely on the guys if I need to. You, however, have..well you just don’t..” he sighs, “you’re alone.”

You back up from him, “You’re unbelievable.” you start skating to exit the rink. You hear James call after you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever James, just leave me alone.”

“Would you just let me explain?” he desperately calls out. You swivel around the ice quickly, turning to face him. You have a snarky remark to give but it's out the window when James fully runs into you. Before both of you can catch yourselves, you both fall onto the ice. 

You yelp out in pain when James falls right onto your foot. He’s off of you quickly. “Holy shit are you okay?”  

You don’t answer, attempting to stand up. When you put pressure on your right foot, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. James must see the pain in your face, “I'm so sorry I didn’t think you were going to stop. Let me help you back.” 

You shake him off, “No it’s fine, I’m fine.” you go to kick off the ice and the pain brings you to your knees. James reaches for you but you push his hands away.

No no no, this can’t be happening. You feel your heart start to pick up. You can barely hear James over the ringing in your ear. You stand up one more time, pushing off with your left leg this time. You make it somewhere but when you push off your right leg out of habit you double over in pain. 

You hear James grimace from behind you. “Alright, that's enough.” James wraps your arm over his shoulder and takes most of your weight. You can’t deny him, having no other way to get off the ice. He glides the both of you to the exit. The second your feet reach the matted floors you push away from him and limp to the nearest bench. You're pulling and tugging at your laces aggressively. When your skate is loose enough you yank your foot out, crying out in pain. You roll your sock down both you and James gasp. You throw the skate that’s in your hand.

You bring your hands to your eyes, feeling that annoying sting. “Fuck!” This is not happening. You did not just ruin your chances for this year because of one little accident. 

“I have to get Remus.” you grip James' wrist stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not!” 

James tries to pull his wrist from you but you bring your other hand to grab at it. “Don’t say anything, please. I promise I’m fine.” James looks at you bewildered, “Are you insane? Your ankle is purple.” 

“I bruise easily. I promise it's fine.” 

“Walk on it.” 

What. “What?” 

James shrugs, “Walk on it. Walk from here to those bleachers.” 

You go stand up, his eyes never leaving you. You take your first step and feel the same sharp pain you flinch but take your next step. You take step after step, pushing through the blinding pain. You make it to the bleachers and turn to face James. “See, it’s fine.” 

James stares at you in disbelief. He walks up to you “You are unbelievable.” He grits out. 

James leaves without saying anything else. Leaving you in the dark arena. 

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

It’s been three days. You managed to convince Coach to give you time off, telling her that you had some projects to catch up on. Pleased with your recent performance, she reluctantly granted you some free time. No practice meant no Doc visits. Three days and radio silence from James. You were so sure that he would've said something to someone by now but you aren't called in for any meeting or evaluations. 

Three days later and your ankle is still purple and throbbing. You’ve taken way too many painkillers for it to be safe but it’s your first day back and you have to act like you feel fine. 

You walk into the building. You put on a smile and are prepared to give the best performance of your lifetime. Coach is already standing by the ice. You go towards the locker rooms but you stop when she yells your name. 

She looks annoyed when you walk up to her. “Hey Coach” 

She puts her phone down. “Look, they are cutting into your time today because they have to get the ice ready for the game tonight. I’m going to need you to do a quick warm-up and get right into running the routine. Jumps and all.” 

You nod, “Yes ma’am.” 

You put your bag down on the bench and start getting ready. You’re lacing up your skates when you hear a chorus of laughter. You lift your head to see James, Remus, and Sirius all chit-chatting while exiting the office hallway. Sirius catches your eye and you’re too slow to look away. He’s caught you. 

“Lapin!” 

Oh god. 

You hear them make their way over. 

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.” 

You yank tightly at your laces and wrap them around your ankle. “Oh don’t exaggerate. It was only three days.”

Sirius scoffs, slouching down onto the bench next to you. “Yeah, that’s forever for you. I feel like lately you’ve been here every day.” you roll your eyes at him. 

“I had schoolwork to catch up on.”

Remus hums, “Look at you. Working hard.” 

You lean back on the bench. “What can I say? Anyway, I’m back. Try not to stare too hard Sirius.” 

Sirius' shoulder bumps you. “Hey, what about Remus?” 

You stand up, “You my darling.” pointing a finger at Remus. “Can stare as long and hard as you’d like to.”

There is a slight tinge of pink on Remus’s face but he laughs it off. “Quit you two.”

Your attention turns to James clearing his throat. This whole time he hadn’t said anything, just staring at you, analyzing your every move.

The two of you stare at each other, tension thick in the air. He drags his eyes slowly down your body. Any other person would think he has no shame but you know it’s nothing like that. You know exactly what he’s looking for. James' eyes linger on your ankle, mostly hidden by your skates. 

James tilts his head, “Hmm” 

Sirius and Remus, having no idea what's going on, simply stand there. 

“Hmm? That’s all you're gonna say?” 

Jamea shrugs. “What else is there to say? Everythings fine.” 

For the past three days you’ve done nothing but worry about James snitching on you. It’s brought you nothing but stress and anxiety. Why hasn’t he said anything?

You open your mouth to say something. “Yeah sure everythi-”

“Lapin! On the ice. Now!” 

James continues staring at you. If he thinks you’re going to crack, he’s going to be waiting for the rest of the day. 

You walk away with as much ease and poise as you can. 

The pain in your foot isn’t gone. You’ve got a purple bump to prove it but you’ve taken enough pain meds to hold off some of the pain for now. You skate around the ice, warming up. Every time you kick off you feel the twinging pain but do your best to ignore it. Coach doesn’t let you warm up for long. 

“Lapin, run the routine.” 

You’re heart drops, you didn’t think she’d get straight into it but she must want to take advantage of the time you had on the ice. 

You take a deep breath, already feeling the normal burning sensation in your lungs. You get into position. You steady yourself into your starting pose. You lock eyes with James. They’re all leaning onto barriers. Neither of you breaks eye contact. Finally, you hear the starting notes of your music and begin. You kick off beautifully, moving across the rink in a matter of seconds. You glide elegantly across the ice. The music begins to swell, the first jump is coming up. You breathe in, brace yourself, and jump. You spin, almost landing perfectly. There is a bit of wobble but nothing you can't make up in the next couple of jumps. You continue your program. You jump again. Spinning and landing. This one is perfect, no wobble. You keep moving, swelling with pride. You can’t see anyone but the lack of yelling lets you know that Coach is somewhat satisfied with the jumps. You push on, beginning to feel the pain in your foot. You ignore it as best you can. It’s when you're landing your third jump that the pain shoots up through your ankle. It leaves you breathless for a second but you compose yourself. You skate, you skate and skate and skate until you hear yelling over the music. 

“Get her off the ice right now!” 

You bring yourself to a stop. You look over to the commotion and see the coach with Doc. Standing right next to both of them is James. 

You stay on the ice, trying to catch your breath. 

It’s Coach's turn to yell at you. “Lapin, come here right this instance.” 

Your heart continues beating quickly. You make your way over and when you're at the exit, Coach is pulling you by the arm, heading straight for the benches. 

“Sit.” 

You look between her and Doc, you can’t even bear to look at James. 

“What on Earth is going on?!” 

“Take your skates off!”

“Excuse me?”

“Skates. Off. Now.” 

You reach to slowly start untying your skates. It doesn’t matter how slow you move. They all sit and wait.

Once they’re both off Doc kneels and reaches for your ankles immediately.

“Woah what the hell are you doing?”

“Which one James?”

Your head snaps towards James. You’re caught, you know it, but if James says something now you’ll hate him for the rest of your life. 

James must see it in your face. He’s silent for a second.

“Which one is James? I'm not going to ask again.” 

James looks away and answers. “The right one.” 

Without another second wasted, Doc is yanking your sock down, revealing a swollen purple ankle. Both Doc and Coach gasp. 

“Lapin, what the hell were you thinking?” 

You scramble to save this. “It’s not as bad as it looks! I promise!”

You look between Coach and Doc and all you see is pure disappointment. Coach runs a hand through her hair.

“Why? Why are you so adamant about hurting yourself? Do you not realize that you could mess this up beyond repair. What will you do then?”

Your eyes start to sting and you feel them watering up. “I didn’t mean to. It was a stupid accident.”

“Well, that’s exactly my point. You are a star athlete. What are you doing having stupid accidents? You are meant to be taking care of yourself.”

You feel the tears begin to fall. “Oh, now you care? Where was this lecture when you let me skate last year? Or how about all the times I skipped my appointments? How many appointments did you let go unattended? How many times did you look the other way?” 

You stare at your coach in anger and she looks right back at you with a look you can’t place. 

Doc cuts in. “We need to get it checked out.” You go to stand up and Doc tries to help you immediately. “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” 

“I’ve been doing it just fine.” 

Doc shakes his head and reaches to help again. “I mean it. I don’t want you walking on it. James can you come hel-” 

You cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not. I said I’m fine. I can walk by myself.” 

Realizing that he can’t stop you, Doc lets you start making your way to his office. James follows behind immediately, calling you names. You ignore him but he won’t stop. He grabs your arm. You hear him quietly beg “Please, can you just listen.” 

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “I never want to hear from you again, James Potter. I hate you.” you spit out venomously. James displays a clear look of hurt. You leave him there, making your way down the hall alone.

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

After a thorough investigation, Doc diagnoses you with a bad sprain. It would have been fine if you had sought medical help immediately, or so he says. You don’t speak if you don’t have to, only offering quiet yes’s and no’s. 

Doc is finishing up when you do finally speak a full sentence. “When am I cleared to skate again?” 

Doc sighs, like who knew the question was coming. “Well, that’ll be up to you.”

He moves around the room, gathering things for your kit while speaking. “You wanna get better fast, you’re gonna have to take care of that ankle.” he walks over, handing you the kit and paperwork. “That means no agitating it, no skating, and definitely no competition.” 

You knew this was coming but hearing it breaks your heart. You feel your eyes start to water again. 

“Look,” Doc starts. “I'm really sorry. I knew how much this meant to you.” His words go in one ear and out the other. You silently stand up and grab all your things. You can’t bear to be in this rink anymore. You reach for the newly prescribed crutches and adjust yourself. Doc watches silently. You whisper a quiet thank you and goodbye. You make your way out of the building, trying your best to ignore all the stares. The rink, now busy with people waiting for the upcoming game. 

Everyone pushes to get in when you want nothing more than to get out. Every look you receive is filled with pity that you don’t want. You finally make it out, trekking through the parking lot to get to your car. Once you're in you turn it on and drive in silence. When you're in your dorm you head straight to bed. Holding onto one last hope that all of this is just a dream. 

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

You know you shouldn’t be here. Well, technically nothing is stopping you from being here. But with Coach currently giving you the cold shoulder, Doc banning you from skating, and James on your hate list, Coming to the rink might not be the smartest of ideas. 

That is why you are here right now, at night. You’ve been out for over a week and feel like you’ve been going stir-crazy in your room. Technically the rink is closed. It has been for the past three hours. However, you know Burnie, the maintenance man, doesn’t leave until a while after. 

You’re shaking in the cold when you see him walk out the front, going to lock it. He smiles when he sees you. You can't help but smile back. “Hey Burnie.” 

“Hey sweetheart” He greets you with just as much enthusiasm as always. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I forgot a couple of things in the locker room. Thought it might be time I come and get it.” 

He eyes you suspiciously. You can’t help but laugh. “Burnie I promise I’m just here for some things. Look, no bag, no skates,” you say as you spin in a circle for him.

He reaches to steady you. “Woah okay now. Be careful on that foot.” he sighs. “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna trust you on this, run in and grab your things and I’ll wait for you right here.” 

“What, Burnie no. I'm not gonna make you wait out here in the cold. Plus you shouldn’t have to stay a second later. I already feel bad keeping you right now.” 

Burnie’s still wavering. You sigh. “Look Burnie, I’m in a boot and I don’t know if you know this but these are a pain to take off. Both literally and physically. I just need to grab my things but I don’t want you waiting out here on me when you could be halfway home.”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Don’t let me find out that you were skating or we're gonna have some problems, sweetheart.”

You giggle pointing at your boot. “Burnie, I already told you I can’t.” 

He waves a hand, walking away. “Knowing you? You’d find a way. There are keys in Remus's desk. Lock the front door when you're done.” 

“Sir yes Sir.”

You make your way into the lockers, finding your bag of things that you always leave here. You grab it and walk out to the rink. You slump down onto the bench. You start rummaging through your bag. You smile as you find all sorts of knick-knacks. 

You pull out what you were looking for, your old skates. You smile fondly as you remember the skating you did in them. Your happiness morphed into sadness when remembering the people who bought you the skates. You hadn’t seen your parents since you moved out to college. Your skating was too mediocre for them to fly out and watch. You remember every single time they turned down your invitations, telling you it would be “A waste of time”.

 How could that be? You had everyone telling you you’re the best skater they’ve seen in ages. You have a world champion for a coach. You have so many people coming out to watch you. How can you have all of that and it still not be enough to make your parents see you? 

This is why you had to be fantastic. You were supposed to be perfect this year and the last and you ruined it. You still hadn’t told your parents about your injury. You could still hear your mother on the phone from last year. The disappointment, the lack of worry for her child, and worst of all, her deadpan voice muttering into the phone, “What did we expect, knowing you.” 

You’re squeezing the skates tightly, you feel your breath pick up. You pinch your eyes shut. Nonono this cannot be happening. You know this feeling all too well. You put your hands over your ears and bring your head down. You feel the familiar tightness in your chest. You try to breathe in and out but your airways feel constricted. You sit up and start rummaging through your bag looking for an inhaler. You find one and pull it out, panicking more when you realize that it’s out of pumps. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Hearing the heavy thump over and over again. You get up. You know you have one in your car, you just have to make it out there. 

You start walking, trying your best to slow down your breathing. You can start to see the light coming from the front when you hear someone unlocking the door. You walk around the corner, fully expecting to see Burnie who’s come back to kick you out. You freeze when the person turns around. 

You and James both stop in your places both gasping in shock. 

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” he says with a hand over his heart. 

You don’t have time for James, so you walk right past him. James takes your silence as an insult.

“Are you still ignoring me?” you don’t answer, you fumble to get the keys out of your pocket. Reaching to unlock the door. When you do, you book it out to the parking lot. You can hear James following you. 

“Seriously, you don’t show up for a week and then I find you here in the middle of the night. What were you doing anyways?” he continues behind you. James' tone changes, seeming to land on the only possible explanation. “You were skating weren’t you?” you get your car keys out of your pocket and start clicking on the unlock button over and over again. 

“God” he scoffs, “You’re insane. That has to be the only explanation.” whatever else James says you can’t hear. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you start to cough at the lack of air in your lungs. The cold makes every sharp inhale burn. You finally make it to your car and swing the back door open. You jump in, yanking your bag out from under the seat. You dig through it and pull your inhaler out. You bring it to your mouth and inhale instantly.  

You sit up, breathing in. Your eyes are closed but you can hear James' shoes scuff to a stop right outside your open door. You stay like this for a while. You finally feel your heart start to slow and the burning in your chest is subsiding. You open your eyes and see James staring back at you with wide eyes. 

“Holy shit you have asthma?” 

His complete 180 in emotions gives you whiplash. 

“Yes you dickhead, I have asthma.”

James completely disregards the insult. “You had asthma this whole time. That's what Doc was asking about right? Or that time on the ice? When you get winded?” 

You just nod.

“Yeah, you’re definitely insane.”  you lean forward to smack his arm. “Quit calling me crazy!”

James rests a hand on the top of the car, leaning in, getting a better look at you in the back seat. 

“I’m not calling you crazy. I’m calling you insane.” 

You cross your arms. “So what, I have asthma. Plenty of athletes have asthma,” you say, looking up at him. 

James runs a hand through his hair. “That isn’t the point. I just wish- If you could just-” Without another word he’s getting into the backseat, pushing you over to make room for him. 

James clears his throat. “Listen, I’m going to say something and I need you to listen.”

Whatever you're about to say, James doesn’t let you. “Promise. Promise you won’t say anything until I’m finished talking.”  You stare down at James' hand, pinky extended, waiting for yours. 

You wrap your pinky around his. He drops his hand but keeps his finger interlocked with yours. You don’t pull away. 

“I think you should take a break from skating.” 

 You roll your eyes. You push away from James but his pinky tightens around yours. 

“Wait! You promised you’d listen.”

He’s got a desperate look on his face. “I watch you.” 

“James what?”

“Okay no, but yes.” He clarifies. “God I’m really bad at this. What I want to say is that I notice you okay? The second you started skating here I noticed you.” 

“You are frustratingly good on the ice. You’ve gotten title after title and it's got everything to do with you” James looks down, fidgeting with your joint pinkies. Ears red. “But ever since your incident last year you’ve gotten so…” he trails off looking for the right word. “Aggressive” 

“You’ve gotten so aggressive with your technique, on the ice, and with yourself. There’s something different about you. Everyone thinks it's a newfound determination but I can see it in your eyes, it’s something else. You skate with no regard for your body. What happens when you push it too far? What happens when you force yourself so hard that your body gives up on you? What will you do then?” 

The silence is heavy over you both. You look at James and he looks back at you with so much emotion, searching for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath. “What am I if I can’t skate? Can you tell me, James?” 

He stumbles over his words, clearly thrown off by your question. He comes up blank. 

“Exactly. Skating is all I have, it’s all I am.”

James shakes his head. “No, that isn’t true.”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Do you think I’d be here right now if it weren’t for my skating? I’m here because it’s what I'm good at. I have so many people betting on me, so many expectations to uphold, so many people to prove that I’m worth it.” 

James leans in closer and speaks gently. “Why do you think that you aren’t already the best? Why is it so hard to believe that you are amazing at what you do?” 

His gentle tone does little to comfort you. He doesn’t get it. “If I’m so great how come my parents won’t come to see me?” you yell, your tone coming off harsher than you had intended. 

You recognize the emotion behind James' stare, it’s pity and you hate it.

You can’t bear to look at him, embarrassed by your outburst. 

“Hey,” you keep your gaze towards your lap. 

“Hey, look at me.” you feel his hand come under your chin as he lifts your face to meet his eyes. 

He unlatches his pinky from yours and brings his hand up to hold your face. 

“Is that what it is, you feel like you’ve got a crowd to appeal to? Well, guess what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You skate because you love it not because you feel the need to meet intangible expectations. If your parents can’t see how good you are then that's on them, you don’t need them.”

You groan and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. “That's easy for you to say.” 

James furrows his brows at that, “What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“You have your parents here offering you endless support. No offense, but you could sit out an entire game and they’d still whoop and holler about how proud they are of you. You have a team that worships the ground you walk on. You have Remus and Sirius. What do I have? Who do I have? Coach?” You raise a hand to wipe away your tears but it’s no use. “I’m a thousand miles away from everything and everyone that I love. Being good, no, being fucking fantastic is the only way to get their attention. So if that’s what I need to be then so be it.” 

You let out one shaky breath and it all breaks loose. You bury your head in your hands, trying to muffle whatever mess you look like from James. After a short moment of sobbing into your hands, you feel hands pull at your arms. Before you know it, James is pulling you into a warm embrace. 

The angle is a bit awkward, considering the size of your backseat but he still manages to get his arms wrapped around you. Your head lands on his chest, ear pressed against it. You stiffen at first but slowly wrap your arms around him. You both sit in silence. He gently runs a hand up and down your back, while the other rests on the back of your head, holding it. You listen to the beat of his heart, which moves rapidly. You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite being the one to make a bold gesture, he’s the nervous one. 

“You aren’t as alone as you think.” 

“What?” You go to lift your head but James pushes it back onto his chest. Heart beating quicker.

“You're Not alone. You have Sirius and Remus, just as much as I do if not more. They adore you a little too much. And whether you believe it or not you have Doc and just about everyone else who you cross paths with in the rink.” 

He clears his throat for the next one. “And you have me.” 

It’s said so quickly you almost miss it. You’re sure you would’ve if you weren’t so close to him.

You go to lift your head again but he pushes it back down. You groan. “James.”

He doesn’t respond. You go to move but he holds you in place again. “James Potter, let me look at you.” 

He doesn’t budge, “I’d rather you didn’t” 

“James, if you don’t let me move, so help me god.” 

Your tone seems to do it. His hand slips from where it rested on your head. Once you get a good look at him, you almost laugh at the sight in front of you. James Potter, Red in the face, with a look of embarrassment so bad, he could die. He looks everywhere but at you. Eyes darting around the car.

“James”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

He does for a second and then looks away.

“James,” you say sternly.

“Yes?” He says picking at the seats.

Without putting much thought into it you smack both hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. You seemed to surprise him more than yourself. James stares at you with wide eyes. You’d done it without thinking and how you have no course of action. 

You both blink at each other. 

“What was it that you said just now?” 

He doesn’t turn away this time. That's progress. “What were we talking about?” he says with a dazy voice. You look at him expectantly. James, who realizes he has nowhere to go, blurts it out. 

“I said that you have me. There. Happy?” he doesn't stop there. “I said you have me because you do. All the time, every day I'm thinking about you, which is crazy considering how much you berate me. But that must be it. I must be crazy because I love it all the same. I care about you, even though half the time you make me want to slam my head into a locker, I care. So, yes, you have me.”

Through your hands, you feel the heat of his face. Despite the strong blush and red ears, James looks at you so earnestly that you can’t help what comes next. 

Hands still on his face you pull him forward into a kiss. He freezes and you pull away. Just for a split moment, you worry that you made a mistake. But before you know it James surges forward, reconnecting your lips. Whatever hesitation there was before, is gone now. 

His lips move against yours slowly, tentatively, exploring. You feel a finger trace the line of your jaw. Then the hand slips behind your head, bringing you closer. The sweet kiss now deepened with the hunger shared between you both. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t stop.

With his newfound confidence, James moves forward. Your back hits the seat and James hovers over you now. He moves to lay himself over you. You feel his hand running up and down your side. You gasp into the kiss when a cold hand slips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist. James groans at the feeling of your bare skin, squeezing your side. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t want to stop, ever. But the more James runs his hands over you and kisses you with an insatiable passion, the less you can breathe.

 You ignore it at first, but the aching in your chest only gets stronger. You feel like you’re drowning, and you decide that hyperventilating while making out isn’t the way to go so in one swift motion you sit up, pushing James off of you. 

You breathe in harshly. James now sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed, glasses askew. You laugh but it sends you right into a coughing fit. You start to panic a bit and search for your inhaler. James snaps out of his daze and seems to get the memo. After what feels like forever, James lifts the inhaler. “Got it” he yells triumphantly. 

Snatching it from his hand, you take a couple of puffs, breathing in and out slowly. 

“Woah. I guess you could say I took your breath away.” 

You shoot him a look but can’t help but burst out laughing. James' laugh follows.

“No, seriously though. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded.”

James smirks, seemingly a bit too proud. “Sorry about that,” he says with fake sympathy.

“Sorry about what? Trying to eat my face off or trying to take me in the back of my car?”  

James' face goes bright red. You don’t understand how he can be so confident yet so easily embarrassed.  

“I-I okay, woah, I-” He stutters over his words.

“Gosh James, I thought you’d have a bit more class than that.” 

He scoffs, “I have plenty of class and I don’t think I heard any complaints from you.” 

You shrug, “Could’ve been better.” 

James' jaw falls open in disbelief. “Oh really now.”

“Yup” 

Before you know it he’s bringing you down to your back and you let out a yelp of surprise. 

“Well since you’re so great I guess you’ll have to help me practice.”

You hum. “Oh yes, you’ll need all the practice you can get.” 

James lets out a loud laugh, making your heart flutter. “Yeah, well let's hope you don’t have to reach for your inhaler every 5 minutes.”

You smack his shoulder. “Hey! I am a star athlete. I don’t think a little acti-” 

James cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. This time it's soft and sweet. James pulls away. “Talking to you is going to be a lot easier now that I can do that.”

“Keep talking and that’ll be the last time you get to do that.”

James nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. Message received.” 

With a nod from you, James is back on you. He leans into you heavily, moving his lips with yours. You reach up for his glasses, feeling them start to dig into your face. James' hand comes to your wrist, stopping you. Pulling away, he rushes out a ‘wait!’

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t take them off.”

“James, as much as I love your glasses, they’re digging into my face.” 

James blinks at you with a slight pout on his face. “I can’t see anything when I take them off.”

“Okay?” 

He sighs, “I can’t see you when I take them off.” 

You roll your eyes at him. “James Potter you are such a sap.” 

He rolls his eyes back at you. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I will. Okay they can stay on”

James smiles brightly. “Yay! Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

And who are you to deny him?

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

“Alright, you guys did great today! Don’t forget to tell your parents that there won't be any classes next week.” you hear a chorus of answers promising they will. Considering you’re talking to a bunch of toddlers, you make a mental note to send out an email. 

You guide them off the ice and towards their parents, waving bye to them all. 

You’ve been helping teach the toddler class while their coach is out of town. Doc hadn't fully cleared you but gave you the green light to teach the little ones.

You make your way towards the office to drop off the sign-in forms. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a smiling Remus. 

“Hello, love. How are the tots?”

You give him a tired smile, “Rambunctious as always.”

Remus laughs, taking the papers from you. “You think you’d take this opportunity to get away from this place but no.”

You lean forward on the counter. “And miss out on seeing you every day? No way.” 

Remus shakes his head, turning away from you. Ears slightly pink. “You’re insufferable.” 

Before you can respond you hear someone else enter the office. More like two someones.

James and Sirius walk over to where you’re talking to Remus. James' eyes shift from you to Remus’ red ears and then back to you.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop flirting with Remus.” He says with a slight frown. 

You shrug, “I’ve done no such thing.”  

James rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. Liar.”

Sirius and Remus erupt in laughter as James pouts. 

Sirius ruffles James' hair. “Oh James, it’s sweet that you think you can stop whatever it is they’ve got going on.” 

James huffs, pointing at Remus. “You’ve got to stop whatever alluring charm you’ve got going on.”

Sirius laughs harder. Remus gives James a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just myself.” 

You swoon dramatically at his words. “Oh, Remus.” 

“Hey! No, don't swoon!” James says, looking frantically between the two of you. 

Remus and Sirius roar in laughter at his reaction. 

With the other two still laughing, James walks over to you. You give him a sweet smile. 

He frowns at you. “Why do you insist on giving me a hard time?”

“Someone's got to keep you on your toes, humble you a bit.” He glares at you but breaks into a smile of his own. 

With Sirius and Remus now wrapped up in their own conversation, James leans in a bit closer. 

“Hm, humble me? How can I be humble when you’re praising me all the time when we-” You slap a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously. You feel him smirk against your hand. 

He reaches for your wrist, pulling your hand away, giving it a soft kiss. “How were the lessons?” He says changing the subject.

“They were great. Lenny didn’t cry at all this time.” 

He gives you an encouraging pat on the waist. "Nice, and what about your foot?” 

You shrug, “It feels fine. I think stretching before ice time helps.” 

James smiles. “You’ve been doing the stretches?” 

You nod. He gives you a high five “That's my girl.” 

He goes silent, looking between you and his friend's chit-chatting. He leans in, whispering into your ear. 

“Hey, when's your appointment with Doc again?”

You think for a minute. “Um, not till this afternoon, why?” 

“So you’re free right now?”

“Yeah”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” He says with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

A moment pauses.

“Well. What are you waiting for?” 

James springs into action. His hand grabs yours, leading the both of you out of the office. 

“Hey, where are the two going?” 

Without turning around James yells out “Practice” You can’t help but laugh at the confused responses you get from Sirius and Remus. 

James continues down his path, determined.

“Wait James, what about my bag and my-”

He pats the side of his bag. Hanging from a chain is one of your backup inhalers. You stare at him in shock. With a quick kiss on the forehead and a cheeky smile, James continues to drag you both out of the rink. 

Practice does ensue. 

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

A present to you all for being MIA.

I pinky promise I'm working on the Peter series!

[narfin-frood]

Hi! I'm a big fan of your art, and I just wanted to know, did you study the WOY art style? I'm asking because the way you draw each character, Hater especially, is so expressive! Do you have any tips with expressions? Thank you!

thank you so much!! and to kinda answer your question: while what i do is, technically, studying, that's not what it feels like. i genuinely just enjoy looking at character sheets. a lot of the time they'll include little notes about things you wouldn't think about unless you're told to, like wander's eyes typically angling towards each other at the bottom or sylvia's eyes obscuring the full width of her neck.

(i have any one of these open in my reference panel almost always! not only are these full of tips & tricks for your everyday sketching, they're full of rules for each character, which are meant to be broken in interesting and fun ways.)

[im gonna pack a bunch of other, tangentially related tips and tricks and thoughts into the readmore, including my personal breakdown of hater's expressions specifically, so feel free to give it a click. long post ahead]

a lot of stuff can be picked up by just watching the cartoon as many times as you want. i have watched every episode (minus big fucking baby episode, which i hate) like 6 times over, sometimes more (looking at you the rager), and that has definitely solidified my wander over yonder visual library.

also, wander over yonder's art style already fits in with the way i draw, because i LOVEE long curvy lines and super crisp & clear silhouettes!!

as for why/how i get hater so expressive.... that mainly has to do with the fact that i think he's So Cute. He's So Cute and i wanna Squash Him. and his character design reflects that!!!

his hood is his eyebrow and his eyes may or may not be rolling around in their sockets, and his nose is a little upside down heart. but all of the lord hater emotion is stored in the chin. lord hater has a bunch of specific and VERY malleable options for mouth shapes, depending on what makes the expression and lipsync look clearest.

you can keep it super simple, with a clear divide between his top and bottom jaw, and do several round bumps for teeth, which they do a lot when tweening, like this:

this kind of seems to be his default state, depending heavily on the episode and when it was made and who was drawing him the most, of course.

you can also keep his jaw and skull distinct, but keep his teeth straight and flush with each other, which helps for sharper expressions, esp. anger or frustration, but can also work for a good "squee". he also sometimes pouts so hard his chin eats his mouth, which is, again, cute.

if you're having trouble keeping an expression clear while also maintaining the distinction between his jaw and the rest of his skull, it's pretty common also to forego most of the overt skeleton bits, save for a few hatch marks to indicate teeth (sometimes squiggles or bumps, when he's yelling about it). in my head i affectionately refer to this style of hater expression as the "peanut sans"

none of these convey the intensity of emotion you're looking for? fear not, you can also always just go Full Skeleting. and give his teeth a full outline. this is great for Pain and Strain and Nefariousness.

and then there are a million expressions in between and possibilities within these parameters beyond your wildest belief. nothing should hold you back from a really fucked-up lord hater expression. not proportion. not structure. ESPECIALLY not symmetry. please. make his chin bigger. make his head bigger. make one eye bigger. make him look in two different directions. scrunch his nose up. whatever it takes. by all means. i implore you to have fun

(honorable mention. his W face. the face when he says the consonant W. sometimes OO. i'm. obsessed. with it . he looks. kity)

anyway. lord hater tangent aside. i could also share my own process for expressions, but it really just hinges on what looks appealing/what i like the most/what communicates the emotion i want to communicate the clearest, and it varies between characters and people.

it helps to, again, build your visual library, and look at lots and lots of funny faces, both in real life and in cartoons you like. make funny faces in the mirror and try to focus on what parts of your face change shape or interact with other parts of your face when you do something like smile really wide or drop your jaw. your skin is taut, and there's a bunch of muscle and fat attached to your bones, so when one big bone moves, a bunch of muscles and fat under the surface will shift around too, and understanding that relationship is really helpful in the long run, both for drawing real people and for drawing cartoons.

and the easiest way to retain information like that is to have fun while you study. stop thinking of it as studying and start thinking of it as gathering information on this thing you like a lot and want to do more of, like when you scroll through someone's account to look at all their art, and just. do more of that. do more exploring and observing. since animation is my special interest, this part is pretty easy for me, but it does still take practice to get into that mindset, especially when you convince yourself you have to be super strict and rigid to make it in the art world. focus on drawing and observing what makes YOU happy first, and everything else will follow.

and don't worry about taking notes. don't worry about remembering everything you look at. just look at things you like, and think about them for longer than you usually would. think about the shapes and colors. what makes that drawing so darn appealing to you, besides subject matter and the vague concept of an "artstyle"? you'll be surprised just how abstract what appeals to you can be. for me, with expressions especially, it comes down to random shit like "i like when the edge of a character's mouth creates a tangent with the outline of their head" instead of "pretty eyes" or other, vaguer elements. and that shit i like becomes a part of my artstyle, but only when it fits in and looks appealing, because you can't do stuff like this in every single drawing & retain a full range of expression

ANYway. i hope this made some sense/helped at least a little. i like lord hater a lot. and i also like to draw

[dreamersworldduh]

The Boy Who Broke Chains

• CONNER KENT x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Conner Kent, known as Superboy, is a powerful figure, capable of great destruction and widely feared. He is respected for his immense strength and serious demeanor, making him a strong ally. However, to you, he is much more than that. He is Project Kr, a clone of Superman from Cadmus who once helped you escape from captivity. You remember his fierce determination and how he fought for his own identity while freeing you. To the world, he's Superboy, but to you, he's the boy who brought hope and light.

WARNING! 18+MDNI! Swearing.

WORDS! 16.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Conner Kent is that guy, no one can tell me otherwise. The boy is fiooooneeeee, okay! This was a long one to write and it definitely trampled other fics I have planned, but I had get it out for the readers. Anyway, enjoy your reading! 😉 ✨

Acquiring the ability to control cosmic energy was never something you envisioned for your life, but desperate times can drive even the most ordinary person into extraordinary circumstances. For years, your family had been struggling under the suffocating weight of financial instability. Bills piled up like mountains, debts threatened to swallow your home, and your part-time job at the corner store barely scraped together enough to keep the lights on. Watching your parents age prematurely under the strain of endless stress made you feel helpless, as though you were merely a spectator to your family's slow unraveling.

But one evening, as you flipped through the faded pages of a secondhand newspaper, something caught your eye. It was a small, inconspicuous ad nestled between real estate listings and job postings. The bold letters read: "Volunteers Needed: Lucrative Opportunity. Life-Changing Rewards." Beneath it, the fine print offered no real details, just a phone number and one name: LexCorp.

You'd heard of LexCorp before—who hadn't? Depending on who you asked, it was either a beacon of technological progress or a shadowy conglomerate with too many secrets. Whispers about their projects varied from revolutionary to downright sinister. But desperation doesn't allow for hesitation. The promise of financial salvation was too tempting, so you dialed the number that same night.

A calm, professional voice on the other end of the line invited you for a preliminary interview. The process moved faster than you expected. Within days, you found yourself in a gleaming, sterile office building that loomed over the city like a monolith. You answered questions about your health, your resilience, and—strangely—your willingness to take risks. The interviewer never clarified what kind of risks, but when they slid the contract across the table, your focus locked on the reward: a sum so generous it could pay off all your family's debts and still leave enough for a comfortable life.

The contract was a labyrinth of legal jargon and densely packed paragraphs, punctuated by bold phrases like "irreversible effects," "assumption of risk," and "non-disclosure agreement." But the promise of freedom for your family outweighed any doubt, so you scrawled your signature across the dotted lines without looking back.

It wasn't until later that the grim reality set in. The "project" wasn't just experimental—it was dangerous. LexCorp had unearthed a crystalline artifact, a strange cube humming with energy not of this Earth. According to the scientists, it contained pure cosmic energy—an unstable force capable of reshaping matter, bending space, and altering the fabric of reality itself. They theorized that, in the right hands, it could create beings with abilities to rival even Superman.

You weren't alone in the program. A handful of other volunteers joined you, all desperate for their own reasons. The testing began almost immediately, a grueling process that pushed your body and mind to the brink. You were exposed to blinding flashes of the cube's energy, its chaotic currents coursing through containment fields barely strong enough to hold it. Each session felt like standing in the heart of a storm, your nerves stretched taut as the energy seared through your veins.

It didn't take long for the casualties to mount. One by one, the other volunteers fell. Some collapsed under the strain of the experiments, their bodies unable to adapt to the energy's raw intensity. Others met even darker fates as containment breaches unleashed bursts of uncontrollable power. The scientists treated each loss as a data point, scribbling notes on clipboards while their expressions remained disturbingly detached.

And then there was you. Somehow, inexplicably, you endured. Where others withered, you thrived. Your body didn't just survive the energy—it absorbed it, adapted to it, and transformed. You began to exhibit abilities that defied explanation: manipulating matter with a thought, generating bursts of pure energy, and sensing disturbances in the world around you as if you were tethered to something far greater than yourself.

At first, the scientists were ecstatic. You were their success story, their living proof that the experiment could work. But as your abilities grew, so did your unease. This power didn't feel natural—it felt like something alien, a force that didn't belong within a human shell. The memories of the other volunteers haunted you, their faces a constant reminder of the cost of your transformation.

The financial burden that had weighed so heavily on your family was gone, replaced by an entirely new weight—the realization that you were no longer just a person. You were a weapon, a product of ambition and desperation. Your life was no longer your own.

What began as a desperate attempt to help your family had turned you into something else entirely: a walking, breathing experiment. And while your body thrived on cosmic energy, your soul bore the scars of what you'd become.

The madness didn't end with your newfound powers. If anything, it spiraled into a nightmare beyond your darkest imaginings. LexCorp saw you not as a person, but as a priceless asset—an investment they intended to exploit to its fullest. To ensure you would remain under their absolute control, they delivered a cruel, calculated lie to your family: you had died in a tragic, catastrophic accident. There was no body, no closure, just grief. As far as your parents knew, you were gone—a victim of this cold, merciless world.

But you weren't dead. Far from it. LexCorp secretly transferred you to Cadmus, an infamous facility buried deep in classified government records, renowned for its cutting-edge but ethically dubious experiments in genetic manipulation and superhuman biology. The compound itself was a fortress, hidden in an unmarked location, surrounded by layers of security designed to ensure nothing—and no one—got out.

Your new "home" was a specialized containment cell, meticulously engineered to nullify your powers. The walls shimmered faintly with a metallic sheen, imbued with compounds and technology designed to absorb the cosmic energy flowing through your body. No matter how much strength you summoned, the cell rendered you powerless. It wasn't just a prison—it was a tomb for your autonomy.

The routines of captivity weren't physically harsh, but they were psychologically devastating. Each day was a dull monotony, a predictable loop that wore on your mind like sandpaper against stone. You were provided meals on a rigid schedule—nutrient-rich but devoid of flavor—and your quarters, while minimally comfortable, felt suffocating in their sterile, inhuman design. Time blurred into an endless expanse of sameness.

Occasionally, you had moments of interaction that broke the monotony. Conversations with the G-Gnomes, small, psychic creatures employed by Cadmus to probe your thoughts and monitor your mental state, offered a strange sort of companionship, though their eerie, insectoid features unnerved you. Then there was Kraig, a peculiar hybrid being who seemed almost amused by your predicament. He spoke in riddles, dropping cryptic hints about Cadmus's inner workings and the shadowy figures pulling the strings.

They also allowed you to practice your powers, but only under strict supervision. The training arena was a sterile, white void, filled with sensors that monitored your every move. You were tested to your limits—summoning bursts of energy, manipulating objects, even warping matter in controlled settings. But you weren't doing it for your benefit. Every session was another data point for Cadmus, another step in their quest to unlock and weaponize the full extent of your abilities.

The guards at Cadmus ensured compliance at all costs. They weren't your average enforcers. These were genetic hybrids, beings with enhanced strength, speed, and resilience, some of them augmented by alien DNA. Their presence was a constant reminder of the futility of resistance. Every hallway you walked, every glance from their cold, calculating eyes, made it clear that rebellion was not an option. Even if you managed to overpower them—which seemed impossible—the labyrinthine facility offered no clues about its location. No windows, no distinguishing features, nothing that hinted at where you might be in the world. For all you knew, you could have been on another planet.

The isolation began to chip away at your resolve. Days bled into weeks, the walls of your cell pressing closer with each passing moment. You began to lose track of time, your mind slipping into darker places. Dreams of escape faded, replaced by the oppressive reality of your imprisonment. And then, something unexpected happened.

On what seemed like an ordinary day, during one of your escorted walks to the training area, you encountered him. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. Standing before you was a figure straight out of legend: Superman. The same chiseled jawline, the iconic red cape, the unmistakable "S" shield on his chest. Your heart froze in your chest. What was he doing here? Had he come to save you?

But Kraig, your enigmatic acquaintance, quickly corrected your assumption. This wasn't Superman. It was Project Kr—an imperfect clone crafted in Cadmus's relentless quest to control the power of Kryptonian DNA. Up close, you could see the cracks in the illusion: his slightly rougher features, the faint aura of instability in his demeanor. He was no savior, but another prisoner, bound by the same invisible chains that held you.

Meeting Project Kr changed everything. He wasn't just a clone; he was a person, struggling with his own identity, his own chains, his own quiet rebellion. In him, you saw a kindred spirit—a reflection of your own suffering and longing for freedom. For the first time, hope flickered in the darkness.

Finding someone to talk to was a relief, even if Project Kr wasn't exactly the warmest conversationalist. At first, your exchanges were brief—fleeting moments punctuated by short questions or observations. He wasn't particularly chatty, and his reserved nature made it difficult to know whether he even wanted to engage. Still, you persisted. Slowly, those terse exchanges began to grow into longer interactions. It might have started with a simple question—something about the sterile facility you both called a prison—but it gradually blossomed into hesitant conversations that carried the weight of mutual understanding.

Project Kr was captivated by your stories of the outside world. His eyes would narrow in quiet fascination as you described the mundane details of life beyond Cadmus. The way sunlight broke through trees in the morning, the scent of fresh rain on concrete, the chatter of strangers in a crowded marketplace—things you'd once taken for granted now felt like treasures as you recounted them. His questions were sharp and deliberate, as though each answer unraveled a world he had only dreamed of but never truly believed existed. You painted him pictures of blue skies and bustling cities, of quiet parks and chaotic streets. And every word seemed to stick, as if he was storing these glimpses of freedom deep within himself.

In return, you tried to nudge the conversation toward anything that might help you escape. You asked careful questions about the facility's layout, its security measures, and anything else that might give you a clue. But Project Kr's responses were vague, fragmented, and often unhelpful. It didn't take long to notice something was off about him. Sometimes, mid-conversation, his expression would cloud over, and he'd grow quiet, almost distant, as though listening to something you couldn't hear.

It was then you realized the truth: Kraig. The strange psychic hybrid who had been a begrudging presence in your life was manipulating Project Kr's mind. Subtly, perhaps even unconsciously, Kraig was twisting his thoughts and controlling his actions. The realization sent a chill down your spine. One day, in a rare moment of privacy, you managed to warn Project Kr. You kept your tone neutral and your words vague to avoid tipping off Kraig, but you urged him to be cautious, to question the voices in his mind. Project Kr didn't acknowledge your warning directly, but his thoughtful silence made you hope he'd understood.

Your chance at freedom came sooner than expected—and from a source you never could have predicted. One day, alarms erupted through the sterile corridors of Cadmus. The red lights painted the walls in flashes, and the normally unflappable guards scrambled like panicked ants. You had no idea what was happening. Then the sounds of muffled combat echoed through the facility, followed by explosions and shouts.

The chaos found its way to your cell when the door hissed open, and three figures appeared: Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. Their presence was so unexpected that you thought it might be a trick or some elaborate test. But there they were, battered but determined, with Project Kr at their side. They wasted no time in freeing you. There was no room for questions or hesitation—only urgency. They needed to move, and you weren't about to argue.

The escape was a whirlwind of chaos. The five of you fought your way through the labyrinthine facility, dodging guards and tearing through security systems. The young heroes moved with reckless determination, their banter sharp despite the life-or-death stakes. You quickly found your place among them, using your powers to blast through obstacles and defend the group as the facility descended into absolute pandemonium.

Along the way, you liberated others—victims of Cadmus's cruel experiments. Some were like you, beings infused with strange powers, while others were creatures whose very existence seemed impossible. Together, you all made your way toward freedom, leaving destruction in your wake. Guards fell, alarms blared, and containment units shattered as the facility unraveled.

When you finally broke free, the night air hit your skin like a long-forgotten memory. You barely had a moment to savor the victory, though, before the Justice League arrived. The towering heroes descended like gods from the sky, their presence commanding. But instead of celebration, you were met with sharp disapproval. Batman's cold glare, Wonder Woman's disappointment, and Superman's shock all weighed heavy on the young heroes.

The League was unimpressed with the recklessness of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad. But it was the sight of Project Kr that truly sent ripples through the group. Superman froze, staring at his clone with a mixture of disbelief, discomfort, and unspoken questions. The tension in the air was palpable as the League tried to make sense of what had happened and what Cadmus had been hiding.

You stood awkwardly amidst the chaos, unsure of where you belonged in this strange new reality. All you wanted was to go home, to finally see your family again and leave this nightmare behind. But it quickly became clear that wasn't going to happen—not yet. Batman's sharp, calculating gaze lingered on you, assessing your powers, your potential. You felt like a puzzle piece he was already trying to fit into a grander scheme.

It wasn't freedom you had walked into—it was the beginning of something much larger. The escape had torn open a new chapter in your life, one where you were no longer just a prisoner but a player in a game far beyond your understanding. And as the Justice League deliberated your fate, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the start of something far more complicated, far more dangerous, than you'd ever imagined.

Returning home should have been the end of your nightmare, but instead, it marked the beginning of a more complicated and harrowing chapter in your life. Batman, true to his word, arranged for your return to your family, but not without strings attached. Standing in the shadows of your old neighborhood, he issued a warning: he would be watching, checking in periodically to ensure you didn't lose control—or endanger anyone. His voice was steady, almost detached, but his presence left little room for argument. Exhausted, you didn't press for details. All you wanted was to go home.

The reunion with your parents was both heartwarming and devastating. When they opened the door, their faces were a storm of emotions—shock, disbelief, and overwhelming joy. The tears came quickly, followed by bone-crushing hugs, as they struggled to reconcile the son they thought they'd lost with the one standing before them now. But as relief gave way to reality, their joy turned to anger.

They didn't hold back, their voices rising as they scolded you for your recklessness. Volunteering for an experiment with LexCorp—of all places? What were you thinking? Didn't you know how dangerous they were? The words hit you like blows, but you understood the source of their anger. It was fear disguised as frustration, born from the agony they'd endured while believing you were dead. And though their scolding stung, it was underscored by a simple truth: they were just grateful to have you home.

For a brief time, it felt like life might return to normal. You tried to fall back into old routines, helping out around the house, making small talk at dinner, and even considering the possibility of returning to school. But nothing about you was normal anymore. The cosmic energy flowing through your veins wasn't something you could hide forever.

At first, the signs were subtle—a glowing fingertip here, a static hum in the air when you were nervous—but it quickly escalated. Your emotions became dangerous triggers. A flash of frustration could send a burst of energy surging from your hands, while excitement might cause objects to levitate or shatter. Despite your best efforts to suppress it, your powers were volatile and unpredictable. You knew you were losing control, and worse, your family was beginning to notice.

Then there was LexCorp. They weren't content to let you slip through their fingers. Just weeks after your return, strange cars began appearing near your house, their darkened windows reflecting nothing but menace. Agents loitered on the edges of your property, their suits sharp and their gazes sharper. They didn't bother hiding their intentions, occasionally knocking on the door with thinly veiled threats, demanding to know where you were. Their intimidation tactics grew bolder by the day, turning your home into a pressure cooker of fear and tension.

The breaking point came during an argument with your father. He had been on edge since your return, and his concern for your future boiled over when you mentioned wanting to go back to school. He insisted it wasn't safe—not for you, and not for anyone around you. But you were desperate for a shred of normalcy, and the argument escalated until it was loud enough to rattle the windows.

And then it happened. In a flash of frustration, you lost control. A surge of cosmic energy erupted from you, sending your father flying across the room. He hit the wall hard, slumping to the floor in stunned silence. Thankfully, he wasn't seriously hurt, but the look on his face—the mixture of fear and disbelief—broke something inside you. He wasn't looking at his son anymore. He was looking at a stranger, someone dangerous, someone he couldn't protect.

You knew then that you couldn't stay. As much as you loved your family, as much as they loved you, you were a threat to their safety. And LexCorp's shadow looming over them only made things worse. You couldn't protect them here—not from yourself, and not from the enemies you'd made.

Desperate and unsure of what else to do, you made a decision that felt surreal: you called Batman. The fact that you even had the means to summon the Dark Knight was a strange reminder of how far your life had strayed from normalcy. When he answered, his voice was as calm and precise as ever. After you explained the situation, he listened quietly before offering a solution.

Batman extended an invitation—or perhaps a directive. He offered you a place at The Cave, a secret base for young heroes and sidekicks under the mentorship of the Justice League. It wasn't just a sanctuary; it was a training ground. There, you could learn to control your powers, defend yourself, and face the enemies who would inevitably come for you. It wasn't a retreat—it was an enlistment into a dangerous new world.

The Cave was unlike anything you'd imagined. Hidden beneath layers of earth and stone, it buzzed with cutting-edge technology and the faint hum of activity. This wasn't just a hideout—it was a hub for covert operations. The young heroes who called it home were unlike anyone you'd ever met. Aqualad, Robin, Kid Flash, and others moved through the space with confidence, their actions precise and their camaraderie sharp-edged. They weren't just kids—they were warriors in training, bearing the weight of their mentors' legacies.

You felt out of place among them, like an outsider in a world where everyone else already knew their role. They were fast, skilled, and experienced, while you were still struggling to keep your powers in check. But this was your new home, your new reality. It wasn't what you wanted—far from it—but maybe it was what you needed. Here, under Batman's watchful eye and surrounded by others who understood the burden of extraordinary abilities, you had a chance to find stability.

This was no ordinary life, but then again, you were no ordinary person anymore. You weren't just a kid trying to fix your family's problems. You were something more—a fledgling hero, a potential force for good. And as you stood in the Cave, surrounded by the hum of advanced technology and the determined faces of your new teammates, you realized this wasn't the end of your story. It was only the beginning.

Among the chaos, one thing brought you a measure of comfort: seeing Project Kr, now going by the name Conner. The sight of his familiar face, stoic as ever, made the adjustment a little easier. For Conner, the surprise was mutual. He hadn't expected to see you again, and though his expression didn't betray much, you could tell he was glad to have someone he recognized.

For you, it felt like a lifeline. You had barely interacted with the team members who had freed you—Kid Flash, Robin, and Aqualad—and they were already deep into their missions and camaraderie. While they were friendly enough, their bond made you feel like the odd one out. But Conner was different. He wasn't a polished hero or an experienced team player; he was just trying to figure things out, much like you. That small connection eased some of the tension.

Not long after settling in, you were introduced to two more members of the team: Artemis and M'gann. Artemis, with her sharp wit and cool confidence, made an immediate impression. She wasn't one to sugarcoat her words, and her tough exterior initially made her seem intimidating. But there was something about her—an edge of vulnerability beneath the bravado—that suggested she understood what it meant to fight for your place in a world that doubted you.

Then there was M'gann, or Miss Martian, who was the complete opposite. Her warmth and enthusiasm were like a burst of sunlight in the dim, serious atmosphere of the Cave. She greeted you with a beaming smile and an openness that immediately put you at ease. Her curiosity about you was genuine, and she made an effort to include you in conversations and activities, even when you felt like retreating into the background.

It didn't take long for you to realize how different each member of the team was. Robin was quick-witted and a little cocky but clearly brilliant; Kid Flash was an endless source of energy and humor; Aqualad carried himself with a calm, commanding presence that made him seem like the glue holding the group together. Conner, however, was still figuring out where he fit, much like you.

Through all of this, Conner remained a steady presence. While he wasn't one for long conversations, his quiet support was reassuring. Occasionally, the two of you would exchange a few words about Cadmus, your powers, or just the strange twists your lives had taken. Those moments of familiarity in an otherwise unfamiliar world kept you grounded.

Artemis and M'gann quickly became part of your routine as well. Artemis was the one who pushed you during training, challenging you to step up and prove yourself. M'gann, on the other hand, helped you feel like part of the team, her kindness and patience making the transition easier. Slowly but surely, you began to feel like you belonged—not just as someone seeking refuge, but as a true member of something bigger.

In your free time, you and Conner began spending more and more time together, falling into an easy, natural rhythm that neither of you had expected. At first, it was just casual conversations, catching up on everything that had happened since Cadmus. You talked about the weeks you'd been apart—how he'd adjusted to life at The Cave, how you'd wrestled with your powers and the lingering guilt of your escape. Those chats were brief but meaningful, moments of quiet connection amid the constant chaos of life as young heroes. But before long, they became something you both craved—moments of solace that grounded you in ways nothing else could.

It was impossible not to notice how much Conner had changed. He was still the strong, silent type, but there was a new layer to him now, a quiet confidence that made him seem more centered. Gone was the unsteady, uncertain figure you'd met in the depths of Cadmus. In his place was someone learning to take control of his life, to find his place in the world. That growth only deepened your respect for him, and soon, your conversations began to shift. What started as small talk about training sessions or team dynamics turned into late-night discussions about your fears, your hopes, and the strange, winding paths that had led you both to this point.

It felt effortless, natural, like you could say anything to Conner without fear of judgment. He listened in a way few others did—quietly, intently, as if every word you spoke carried weight. And when he opened up in return, you could feel the trust he was placing in you, each admission a window into the person he was becoming. The bond between you deepened with every conversation, and it didn't take long for you to realize that what you felt for Conner wasn't just friendship. It was something much more profound, something that scared and exhilarated you all at once.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. How could you, when every glance he gave you seemed to linger a little longer than it should, when every brush of his hand against yours sent a shiver down your spine? Those piercing ocean-blue eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you breathless and flustered in ways you hadn't experienced before. And then there was his physique—broad shoulders, a chiseled frame, and strength that felt almost mythical. You'd caught glimpses of him without a shirt during training, and those moments had a habit of staying with you, replaying in your mind at the most inconvenient times.

But it wasn't just his looks. It was everything about him—the way he could calm your nerves with a simple look, the way he listened to you ramble about the smallest details of your day, the way his presence made you feel safe in a way you hadn't felt since before Cadmus. Even his infamous temper, which should have been a warning sign, only drew you closer. You'd seen the fire in him, but you'd also seen the way he softened around you, the way your words could bring him back from the edge when no one else could.

And then there were the little things: waking up in the morning with thoughts of Conner already swirling in your mind, the sound of his voice echoing in your head long after he'd spoken, the way his rare but radiant smile could make your heart race. It wasn't just a crush—it was something deeper, something undeniable. You were falling for him, hard, and every moment you spent with him only solidified that truth.

Unbeknownst to you, Conner was wrestling with similar feelings. At first, he didn't understand what he was experiencing. Emotions were still a foreign concept to him, something he was learning to navigate, but the more time he spent with you, the clearer it became. The way his heart leapt when you smiled, the way your laughter could cut through the anger he so often struggled to contain, the way his pulse quickened every time you touched his arm—it all pointed to one undeniable fact: you weren't just a friend. You were someone who made him feel alive.

He began gravitating toward you without even realizing it. Whether it was during training sessions, missions, or quiet moments in The Cave, he found excuses to be near you. He volunteered to partner with you whenever possible and couldn't help but let his protective instincts take over whenever you were in danger, even though he knew you could handle yourself. It wasn't just habit—it was something deeper, something he couldn't deny no matter how hard he tried.

The rest of the team noticed almost immediately. The chemistry between the two of you was impossible to ignore, and it quickly became the subject of playful teasing. Kid Flash, ever the joker, took every opportunity to comment on the "will-they-won't-they drama," making exaggerated bets on how long it would take for one of you to confess. Robin smirked knowingly but kept his thoughts to himself, while Artemis alternated between amusement and light encouragement, often giving you both subtle nudges to just admit your feelings already.

But not everyone was thrilled. M'gann, who had her own complicated feelings for Conner, watched the growing connection with thinly veiled jealousy. She tried to hide it, putting on a brave face and pretending everything was fine, but her envy was apparent. It cast a shadow over the group dynamic, one that you and Conner both felt but didn't know how to address.

Despite the teasing, the jealousy, and the unspoken tension, nothing could stop what was building between you and Conner. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every late-night conversation brought you closer to the inevitable. The feelings between you were too strong to ignore, and sooner or later, one of you would have to take the leap. Because this wasn't just a fleeting crush—it was something unstoppable, something that had already started to change both of you in ways you couldn't begin to explain.

The weight of your emotions kept both of you tethered in uncertainty. That is, until one quiet evening when the truth could no longer be contained.

It had been a long, grueling day at The Cave. Training sessions had pushed everyone to their limits, and the tension among the team was palpable. You needed a break from the relentless chaos, and as if reading your mind, Conner had suggested a walk along the beach near the cliffs. Without hesitation, you agreed. Wolf, his ever-loyal companion, bounded ahead, his paws leaving faint imprints in the sand as he explored the shoreline. Occasionally, he would stop and glance back, his amber eyes checking to make sure you were both keeping up.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange, pink, and gold. The ocean mirrored the colors, its surface shimmering like liquid light as waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. A gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the sea, tugging lightly at your clothes and hair. The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the only sounds the soft crunch of sand beneath your feet and the distant calls of seabirds.

It was a moment of rare peace, one that felt almost too perfect to be real. For once, there were no missions looming, no training drills to face, no external pressures demanding your attention—just the two of you and the endless horizon.

Conner was the first to break the silence. His voice, quiet and contemplative, barely rose above the sound of the waves. "You know," he began, his gaze fixed on the distant ocean, "a lot has changed since I left Cadmus." There was a hesitance in his tone, as if he were still trying to piece his thoughts together. "Back then, everything was simple. Not in a good way, just... empty. I followed orders. Did what I was told. I didn't think about anything beyond that."

You glanced at him but stayed silent, sensing that this was something he needed to say in his own time. His jaw tightened briefly, and he ran a hand through his hair, his expression flickering with uncertainty. "Since then, I've learned a lot—about myself, about the world, about what it means to... choose who you want to be." He hesitated, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "And about what I want."

The confession caught you off guard, your chest tightening as his words sank in. Conner glanced at you, his ocean-blue eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Sometimes, it's overwhelming," he admitted, his voice dropping lower. "I feel like I'm always trying to catch up, to figure out who I'm supposed to be, what I'm supposed to do. But when I'm with you..." He stopped walking, turning to face you fully.

The wind ruffled his dark hair, and the fading sunlight bathed him in a golden glow that made his chiseled features look almost unreal. For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression soft but intense, as if searching for the right words.

"When I'm with you," he continued, his voice steady now, "everything feels... clear. Like none of the confusion or doubt matters. Like I can just be."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. The air around you felt charged, the world shrinking until it was just the two of you. Before you could respond, Conner took a small step closer, the sand shifting beneath his boots.

"I don't know how else to say this, so I'm just going to say it," he said, his voice firmer now, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "I love you."

The words hit you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. He stood there, raw and unguarded, every wall he'd ever built stripped away in this one, vulnerable moment. "I didn't realize it at first," he continued, his voice quieter now, as if the confession itself had drained some of his resolve. "But I do. I love you. And it's not just some fleeting feeling—it's real. It's... everything."

The world seemed to stop. The waves, the wind, even Wolf's distant barking faded into the background. All you could see, all you could hear, was Conner standing before you, his words hanging in the air like the last rays of sunlight on the horizon. He looked at you with a mixture of hope and fear, his hands hanging uncertainly at his sides, as though he didn't quite know what to do with them.

"I love you," he repeated, softer this time, as if reaffirming it to himself. "And I don't care if it's messy or complicated. I just... I had to tell you."

It was then that you realized your hands were trembling, your emotions a whirlwind of shock, joy, and disbelief. You had imagined this moment so many times, but nothing could have prepared you for the sheer weight of hearing those words spoken aloud. For the vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion etched into his features.

"Conner..." you began, your voice catching in your throat. His name felt like a lifeline, grounding you in this moment that felt too big, too important, to fully comprehend. You stepped closer, your trembling hands finding their way to his. The warmth of his touch steadied you, his calloused fingers gently enclosing yours as if to anchor you both.

Looking into his eyes, you saw everything you needed to say reflected back at you—the trust, the connection, the undeniable truth of what you both felt. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the world in twilight, you realized that this wasn't just a moment of confession. It was the beginning of something new, something real, and something worth holding onto.

"I love you too," you whispered, and the smile that broke across Conner's face was brighter than the fading light of the setting sun.

The confession lingered between you like a fragile thread, heavy with emotion yet pulsing with potential. For a long moment, neither of you moved, the weight of Conner's words and the silent tension locking you both in place. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, as though trying to read your thoughts, his vulnerability exposed in a way you had never seen before. Then, as if something inside him shifted, Conner took a step closer—close enough for the warmth of his body to cut through the cool ocean breeze.

He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The intensity in his gaze said everything. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every opportunity to step back, to stop what was about to happen. But you didn't. Your feet stayed rooted in the sand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest as the world around you seemed to fall away. The rhythmic crash of the waves, the distant cries of seagulls, even the faint sound of Wolf panting nearby—all of it faded into nothing. There was only Conner, and the way he made the air between you feel electric.

And then his lips met yours.

The kiss was everything you hadn't realized you were waiting for. It was slow at first, tentative, like the beginning of a story you both wanted to savor. But it didn't stay that way for long. As the initial hesitation melted away, the kiss deepened, growing in intensity. There was a passion behind it, a rawness that spoke of everything the two of you had been holding back for so long. His lips were soft yet firm, his movements deliberate but hungry, as though he were pouring every unsaid word, every pent-up emotion, into this one perfect moment.

His hands, rough and calloused from endless training, moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the fervor of the kiss, and it sent a shiver through you. It was as though he were afraid to let you go, afraid you might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough. You leaned into his touch, your own hands instinctively finding their way to his shoulders, gripping him as if to anchor yourself in the surging tide of emotions threatening to sweep you away.

The kiss deepened further, and Conner pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. The feel of him—the strength, the warmth, the sheer presence—was overwhelming. His body pressed against yours, solid and steady, making you feel both consumed and protected all at once. You could feel the faint, steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, a grounding reminder that this moment was real, that he was real.

Your own hands slid up to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back with everything you had. Each movement, each touch, felt charged, electric. It wasn't just passion; it was love—raw, unfiltered, and impossible to contain. The connection between you seemed to hum with a life of its own, as if the universe had been holding its breath for this exact moment.

Conner tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further as his hands tightened around your waist, holding you close but still gentle, still careful. His touch sent warmth radiating through you, a heat that spread from where his hands rested to the very tips of your fingers. You felt as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it all, yet you didn't want it to end.

And then, reluctantly, the two of you broke apart, gasping softly as you both remembered the need to breathe. Conner didn't move far. His forehead came to rest gently against yours, his breath warm and uneven as he tried to steady himself. His eyes remained closed for a moment, a soft smile curving his lips—a smile so rare, so full of affection, it made your chest ache.

When his eyes finally opened, they were filled with a tenderness that made your knees weak. He didn't speak right away, and neither did you. Words felt unnecessary in the face of everything that had just passed between you. Instead, he lifted a hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, as if to confirm to himself that you were still there, still real.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he finally admitted, his voice low and almost shy, a sharp contrast to the confident strength he usually carried. The vulnerability in his tone only made your heart swell further.

"So have I," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft crash of the waves. The words carried a weight of truth that made him smile again, his rare, breathtaking smile that seemed to light up the darkening horizon.

For a while, neither of you moved, content to stay locked in this moment. His arms remained around you, holding you close as the ocean breeze swirled around you both. Wolf's distant bark brought a faint laugh from Conner, the sound rumbling low in his chest as he finally pulled back, though his hands never left your waist.

Standing there, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, you felt as though the world had shifted. The tension that had lingered between you for weeks, the unspoken feelings that had hung in the air, were gone. In their place was something real, something steady.

And in that moment, as you gazed into Conner's eyes and saw nothing but affection and certainty reflected back at you, you knew one thing for sure: this was only the beginning.

From that day on, everything changed. The kiss on the beach didn't just mark the start of your relationship—it was the foundation for something transformative, something neither of you had fully realized you were missing until that moment. You and Conner became inseparable, building a bond that was as powerful as it was tender. Over the next five years, your lives intertwined as you grew together, navigating the complexities of both hero life and the challenges of adulthood.

The beginning of your relationship was an adjustment period, filled with both excitement and learning curves. Conner wasn't the most expressive person when it came to words, but his actions spoke volumes. He showed his love in the quiet, meaningful ways that only he could. Whether it was standing protectively closer to you during tense missions, slipping you a cup of coffee just the way you liked it after a grueling training session, or silently sitting by your side during long, quiet evenings, his devotion was clear.

Conner wasn't one for grand romantic gestures, but the little things made up for it. He remembered details about you that no one else did—your favorite music, the way you liked to unwind after a stressful day, the exact spot on your shoulder that was always sore after combat training. His love wasn't loud or flashy, but it was steady and undeniable.

Of course, it wasn't perfect. Adjusting to each other's quirks and differences wasn't always easy. Conner's occasional temper and your own stubborn streak led to clashes, sometimes over the smallest things—who forgot to clean up after training, or which of you deserved the last slice of pizza after a long mission. Other arguments ran deeper, rooted in the immense pressure both of you faced as heroes. Sometimes Conner would shut down emotionally, retreating into himself when he felt overwhelmed. Other times, you'd push yourself too hard, refusing to admit when you needed help. But no matter how heated or difficult things became, the two of you always found a way to reconcile, your love proving stronger than any disagreement.

Not everyone was thrilled about your relationship—M'gann, in particular. It was no secret that she had feelings for Conner, and the announcement of your relationship hit her hard. Though she wasn't openly hostile, the tension was undeniable. At first, her actions were subtle: lingering a little too long in conversations with Conner, finding excuses to partner with him during missions, or offering advice that felt far more personal than professional. Her glances toward you were sharp, her words clipped and frosty whenever you were around.

You tried not to let it bother you, but there were moments of doubt. M'gann was stunningly beautiful, effortlessly charismatic, and had a connection with Conner from the early days of his life outside Cadmus. Part of you couldn't help but wonder if she could offer him something you couldn't. But Conner's loyalty never wavered. He made it clear where his heart lay, whether by politely but firmly shutting down M'gann's attempts or simply moving closer to you during team gatherings, taking your hand in his and grounding you in the reassurance of his presence.

Over time, M'gann began to accept the reality of your relationship. Her attempts to win Conner over became less frequent, and while the tension between you two never completely disappeared, it faded into the background. Eventually, her focus shifted toward her own growth, and though your relationship with her would never be warm, it settled into a quiet indifference. She became a minor distraction compared to the love and connection you shared with Conner.

As the months passed, you and Conner faced countless challenges together, each one shaping the bond between you. Life as young heroes wasn't easy—the missions were grueling, the stakes high, and the sacrifices often painful. But through it all, you were each other's constant. You celebrated victories together, no matter how small, and offered comfort during moments of doubt and loss. Conner's quiet strength became your anchor, while your unwavering support helped him find his footing in a world that often felt too complicated and overwhelming.

When life outside the team came calling, you tackled those challenges together too. From figuring out how to balance hero duties with the mundane struggles of daily life to simply learning what it meant to grow into yourselves, you became each other's greatest ally. On the days when it felt like the weight of the world was too much, Conner would pull you into his arms, his steady heartbeat reminding you that you weren't alone. And on the nights when his own doubts crept in, you were there to remind him of his worth, of the incredible man he had become.

Then five years passed in what felt like the blink of an eye. You went from two unsure teenagers navigating the chaos of the team to adults who had found not just strength in one another, but a deep and abiding love that had weathered every storm. There were still challenges, of course—every relationship has them—but the foundation you'd built together was unshakable.

The connection that began in the sterile halls of Cadmus had blossomed into something extraordinary. Conner wasn't just your boyfriend—he was your partner in every sense of the word. He was the person who stood by your side in battle, the one who held you close when the nightmares came, the one who believed in you even on the days when you struggled to believe in yourself.

And you weren't just his boyfriend—you were his rock, his constant in a world that had once seemed so alien and confusing. You gave him a sense of purpose, of belonging, that he'd never known before. Together, you had built a life filled with love, trust, and the unshakable certainty that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you could face them as long as you had each other.

What began as a quiet connection had grown into a love that was steady, powerful, and enduring. Conner was your home, and you were his. And as you looked toward the future, you knew that whatever storms came your way, you would weather them together. Always.

You two had grown into your roles as senior members of the now-expanded Team, a transformation that felt both surreal and inevitable. What had started as a small, tight-knit group of young heroes had evolved into a sprawling organization with dozens of recruits, each bringing their own unique powers, personalities, and challenges. It was a far cry from the days when you and Conner were the rookies, scrambling to keep up with the veterans. Now, you stood among the most experienced, entrusted with leading the next generation of heroes and steering them through the chaos of their missions.

Stepping into leadership roles hadn't been easy at first. The weight of responsibility was daunting, especially when you remembered your own early missteps. But with time, you both found your footing, developing your own distinct styles as leaders. Conner's leadership was natural, almost effortless. His steady presence and unshakable sense of duty made him a rock for his squadron. He commanded respect without demanding it, his quiet authority inspiring trust and loyalty. Conner was the kind of leader who always showed up—whether it was to guide his team through a perilous mission or to quietly offer a word of encouragement to a struggling recruit.

Your leadership style was different but no less effective. Where Conner's strength lay in his consistency and calm, you excelled at connecting with your squad on a deeper level. You had a gift for understanding people, seeing their potential even when they couldn't. Your approach combined empathy with just the right amount of tough love, pushing your team to grow while making sure they always felt supported. You understood the importance of believing in someone, of showing them they could succeed even when the odds felt impossible. Your recruits respected you not just as a leader, but as someone who truly cared about their success.

Despite the demands of leadership, the dynamic between you and Conner remained as strong as ever. Though your duties often pulled you in different directions, you always found time to collaborate. Whether it was during strategy meetings, debriefing after missions, or those quiet moments when you both needed to vent about the latest recruit who thought they could "go solo," you leaned on each other. You balanced each other perfectly—Conner's pragmatic approach grounded you, while your empathetic perspective often helped him see angles he might have overlooked. Together, you made a formidable team, both in and out of the field.

The new normal was a far cry from the uncertain days of your early years with the Team. Back then, you'd felt like you were constantly running to catch up, to prove yourself. Now, you and Conner had become the ones others turned to for guidance. It was a strange realization at first, but also deeply rewarding. You weren't just fighting battles anymore—you were shaping the future, mentoring the next generation of heroes who would one day carry the mantle.

That didn't mean it was easy. The new recruits were a mixed bag, as new recruits always are. Some were eager but reckless, driven by the need to prove themselves in ways that often landed them in trouble. Others were more cautious, unsure of their abilities and hesitant to take risks. And then there were those who chafed under authority, testing the limits of your patience. Each recruit brought their own challenges, and managing them required different approaches.

Conner handled the rebellious ones with his usual no-nonsense attitude. He didn't tolerate excuses or slacking, but he was also fair, quick to recognize hard work and improvement. His squad knew where they stood with him, and while his methods were sometimes intimidating, they were undeniably effective. You, on the other hand, excelled at breaking through the walls recruits often put up, finding ways to reach even the most difficult personalities. You had a knack for making them feel seen and valued, which often helped smooth over the rough edges.

You and Conner frequently swapped strategies, often during late-night conversations in the Cave or on rare quiet evenings at home. These moments were a reminder of how well you worked together, your different styles complementing rather than clashing. You didn't always agree—Conner's straightforward, discipline-focused approach sometimes clashed with your more empathetic methods—but your shared goal of keeping the team safe and prepared always brought you back to the same page.

Conner had just wrapped up one of the most grueling missions he'd faced in weeks, tracking Clayface through the rancid, labyrinthine sewers beneath Gotham City. The mission had been long, messy, and exhausting. With Nightwing leading the operation, the team had managed to corner and neutralize Clayface, but not without a few close calls—and plenty of exposure to Gotham's less-than-pleasant underbelly. By the time they returned to the Cave, the stench of sewage clung stubbornly to Conner, his clothes ruined and his mood sour.

After a quick debrief in the command center, Conner wasted no time heading to the showers. The hot water was a welcome relief, scalding away the grime and the memory of slogging through filth. He scrubbed at his skin with almost aggressive determination, muttering under his breath about how the smell refused to go away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he emerged clean and refreshed, droplets of water still clinging to his short hair and glistening on his skin.

He made his way to your shared room in the Cave, his fatigue weighing heavy on him. The door creaked open, and as he stepped inside, the sight before him made every ounce of stress from the day begin to fade. You were lounging on the bed, wearing one of his black T-shirts, the oversized fabric swallowing your frame and hanging down to your thighs. It was comically large on you, but that only made it more endearing. You sat cross-legged, utterly engrossed in the book resting in your lap, your brow furrowed slightly as you turned the page.

At the sound of the door opening, you looked up, your expression softening instantly into a warm, affectionate smile. "Hey," you said, your voice light and soothing, as though you'd been waiting for him all day.

A small but genuine smile tugged at the corners of Conner's lips. "Hey," he replied, his voice still low and gravelly from exhaustion. Without a moment's hesitation, he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He didn't bother with words, didn't ask for permission—he simply made his way to you, resting his head on your stomach as he settled himself between your legs. His damp hair pressed against the fabric of the T-shirt you wore, the coolness of it a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin beneath. His strong arms slid around your waist, pulling you close as though anchoring himself to you.

You didn't need to ask what he needed. Over the years, you'd come to understand Conner's unspoken language. He wasn't one to articulate his emotions easily, but his actions said more than words ever could. The way his body relaxed against yours, the way his breath slowed, and the way his grip on your waist tightened slightly—it all told you exactly what he was seeking: comfort, grounding, and the peace that only you could provide.

Your hand moved instinctively to his hair, your fingers threading gently through the damp strands. You stroked with slow, deliberate motions, your touch light but firm, knowing how much he loved this simple gesture. Conner let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, the tension visibly melting from his body. His arms flexed briefly around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, as though to ensure you wouldn't slip away.

"Tough mission?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as your fingers continued their soothing rhythm.

Conner hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he let himself relax fully against you. "Clayface. Sewers. You can probably imagine the rest," he muttered, his tone laced with weariness.

You chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating gently against his cheek where it rested on your stomach. "Yikes," you teased. "Bet that smelled like roses."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, his dry humor peeking through despite his exhaustion. "Yeah, real refreshing," he murmured, his voice softer now. "Definitely one for the books."

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that came so naturally after years of being together. The sounds of the Cave—distant footsteps, the hum of machinery—faded into the background. You set your book aside, your attention fully on Conner now, your hand never ceasing its slow, comforting movements through his hair. His breathing grew steadier, his shoulders losing the last remnants of their tension as he melted into you completely.

The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you like a warm cocoon. Conner's grip on you was secure but gentle, his presence grounding you just as much as you grounded him. You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him, his face peaceful and relaxed in a way that made your heart ache with love. These were the moments you cherished most—the quiet, unspoken ones where words weren't necessary, where just being together was enough to make the world feel right.

As the minutes stretched on, you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his temple, your lips lingering against his skin. Conner responded with a barely audible hum of contentment, his arms tightening briefly around your waist before relaxing again.

"You want a massage?" you asked softly, your fingers threading gently through Conner's damp hair. His head rested heavily on your stomach, his body fully relaxed against yours, and the rhythmic motion of your hand seemed to ease away the tension he carried after his grueling mission. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing steady, and for a moment, it seemed like he might drift off completely.

He didn't reply right away, as if weighing the question or simply savoring the comfort of the moment. Then, slowly, a familiar smirk crept onto his lips—the kind that sent a shiver of anticipation through you every time you saw it. His ocean-blue eyes fluttered open, the corners crinkling with mischief as he tilted his head slightly to look up at you.

"Nah," he murmured, his voice low and edged with a playful undertone that made your heart skip a beat. "But I do have another idea."

You raised an eyebrow, feigning suspicion, though your pulse quickened at the teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what idea might that be, Mr. Kent?" you teased, your fingers momentarily pausing in his hair as you waited for his response.

Conner shifted lazily, propping himself up on his elbows so that he could get a better look at you. His smirk widened as his gaze swept over you, taking in the sight of you curled up on the bed, still wearing his oversized black T-shirt that fell just above your thighs. The amusement in his expression was almost predatory, his eyes darkening slightly as they met yours.

He didn't answer right away, letting the silence stretch. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against your thigh in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through you. His fingertips lingered, tracing idle patterns on your skin, the touch both teasing and intimate.

"Well," he drawled at last, his voice dipping into that deep, gravelly tone that always made your stomach flutter. "I was thinking..." He trailed off, leaning in closer, his face just inches from yours now. The smirk softened into something more tender but no less dangerous as his hand slid up your leg, his palm coming to rest firmly on your hip. "Maybe we could do something a little... more fun."

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, a mix of nervous energy and anticipation. "More fun?" you echoed, your hands instinctively moving to his shoulders, your fingertips grazing the solid warmth of his muscles beneath his shirt. "And what exactly do you have in mind, Conner?"

His chuckle rumbled low in his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He leaned in even closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Why don't I show you?" he murmured, the suggestion laced with affection as much as mischief.

Before you could respond, he moved with effortless strength, his arms tightening around you as he shifted your positions in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised gasp as he flipped you onto your back, pinning you gently beneath him. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and the warmth of his body enveloped you as he braced himself above you.

His smirk was back, but there was a tenderness in his gaze now, a softness that made your breath catch. His hand remained on your hip, his thumb brushing gently over the fabric of the shirt you wore—his shirt. "You've been taking care of me all night," he said softly, his voice quieter now, laced with gratitude and something deeper. "I think it's my turn to take care of you."

Your heart raced as his lips found yours, the kiss starting slow, almost reverent. His mouth moved against yours with a tenderness that sent warmth blooming through your chest, but it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. The passion that simmered beneath his calm exterior broke through, his lips pressing against yours more firmly, his hand sliding from your hip to the small of your back to pull you even closer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, still slightly damp from his shower, as you kissed him back with equal fervor. Every movement, every touch felt electric, the world narrowing to just the two of you. Conner's weight above you was grounding, his warmth seeping into you, his presence wrapping around you like a cocoon.

He broke the kiss just long enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours as his breath came uneven. His eyes, now darker with emotion, held a mixture of love and desire that made your heart swell. "You're all I need," he whispered, the words so soft you almost didn't hear them over the sound of your own pounding heartbeat.

You smiled, your hands sliding down to his shoulders as you pulled him back down for another kiss. "Then don't let me go," you murmured against his lips, your voice just as quiet but filled with all the affection you felt.

Conner didn't reply with words—he didn't need to. The way his arms wrapped around you, the way his lips moved against yours, the way he held you as though you were the most precious thing in the world—it all spoke louder than anything he could have said. And in that moment, with the warmth of him pressed against you and the world fading into the background, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

His rough, calloused fingers slid beneath the hem of the oversized black shirt you wore—his shirt, which hung on your frame like a dress. The fabric bunched slightly as his hands traveled upward, the contrast of his warm touch against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

His movements were unhurried, almost teasing, as though he wanted to savor every moment. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the intensity in his ocean-blue gaze making your breath hitch. When his fingers found the waistband of your underwear, he paused, his lips quirking into a playful smile as though silently asking for permission. The anticipation was electric, crackling in the air between you.

You nodded, barely able to contain the heat rising in your body. That was all the confirmation Conner needed. Slowly, he slid your underwear down, his fingers grazing your hips and thighs as he removed the final barrier between you. The sensation was maddeningly soft, yet charged with an undeniable intimacy that left you feeling completely exposed—and utterly desired.

As your underwear slipped away, Conner's hand trailed back up, his touch firm yet gentle as his fingers brushed against your dick. His palm enveloped you, his grip warm and steady, and the simple act sent a surge of pleasure coursing through you. His movements were slow at first, deliberate, as if he were mapping every inch of you, learning the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against the curve of your jaw before murmuring in a low, husky tone, "You're perfect, you know that?"

The words made your pulse race, your heart pounding in your chest. Conner's gaze softened, though the intensity never wavered, and his hand moved with practiced care, each touch sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. There was something deeply intimate about the moment—more than just the physical connection, it was the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world who mattered.

The shirt you wore—his shirt—slipped further up as he moved, exposing more of you to him. His free hand slid around your waist, holding you in place, anchoring you to him as his movements became more deliberate. The warmth of his touch, the weight of his body pressing against yours, and the sheer love in his gaze all combined to create a moment that felt nothing short of breathtaking.

"Conner..." you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as you felt yourself surrender completely to him. He smiled at the sound of your voice, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that was as passionate as it was tender.

His hand moved with deliberate slowness, sliding up and down your dick in a rhythm that was maddeningly precise, designed to make you unravel beneath his touch. The heat of his palm, the strength of his grip—firm but never rough—had your body responding instinctively, arching slightly into his hand as your breath hitched.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his deep voice dropping to a low, husky whisper that made your entire body tremble.

"You're so hard for me," he murmured, his words laced with a teasing edge that sent a flush of heat straight to your cheeks. His tone was rough, raw with desire, but there was also a playful affection in the way he spoke, like he loved seeing how easily you came undone in his hands.

"Look at you," he continued, his voice like velvet, each word dripping with intent. His grip tightened slightly as he stroked you, the added pressure drawing a quiet moan from your lips. "You're so perfect like this—so needy. You like when I touch you, don't you?"

Your heart raced, your breaths coming faster as his words hit you like a spark to kindling. Conner's hand never faltered, moving in a steady rhythm that left you teetering on the edge of control. He pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear before continuing, his voice filled with a delicious mixture of command and tenderness.

"Every inch of you belongs to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin with every word. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

His free hand slid around your back, pulling you closer to him, as though he couldn't stand even a fraction of space between you. The heat of his body pressed against yours was overwhelming, and the way his words filled your ear—dirty, possessive, and utterly irresistible—made it impossible to focus on anything else.

"You're mine," he growled softly, the roughness in his voice sending another shiver down your spine. "And I'll make you feel so good you won't be able to think about anyone but me."

Every touch, every word, every deliberate stroke of his hand was a symphony of pleasure, building higher and higher until you felt like you might explode from the sheer intensity of it. Conner's lips brushed against your neck now, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he whispered one final promise, his hand moving just a little faster, driving you closer to the brink.

"Let go for me," he murmured, his voice a mixture of command and reassurance. "I want to feel you completely lose control—just for me."

And with that, the overwhelming combination of his touch, his words, and his presence pushed you over the edge, your body surrendering completely to the man who held you like you were his entire world.

The tension in your body built to an almost unbearable peak, every nerve alight as Conner's skilled hand continued its deliberate rhythm. His grip, his pace, the heat of his touch—it was all too much and not enough at the same time. Your breath quickened, a series of soft gasps and quiet moans escaping your lips as you felt yourself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.

Conner must have sensed it, because his lips found their way back to your ear, his voice a low, sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "That's it," he whispered, his tone both commanding and tender. "Don't hold back. Let me feel you."

His words were your undoing. The tension coiled deep inside you snapped all at once, and you cried out softly, your body arching instinctively into his hand as you reached your climax. A rush of heat surged through you, and you felt yourself release, your hot seed spilling over his hand in a wave of pure, unrelenting ecstasy.

Conner didn't stop, his hand slowing just enough to draw out every last pulse of pleasure, his touch grounding you even as your mind reeled. His other arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer as your body trembled against his.

"That's it," he murmured again, his lips brushing against your neck now, pressing soft kisses to your heated skin. "You're so beautiful when you let go like that."

You couldn't form words, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you tried to steady yourself. Conner's touch became gentler, soothing now, his thumb brushing lightly along your hip as his free hand reached for a nearby cloth to clean you up. His movements were tender, his eyes filled with a quiet affection that made your chest ache.

As he finished, Conner leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours. The corners of his lips turned upward in a small, knowing smile, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You okay?" he asked softly, his voice steady and warm.

You nodded, still catching your breath, and managed a faint smile in return. "More than okay," you murmured, your voice laced with both exhaustion and contentment.

Conner chuckled, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. "Good," he said simply, his tone filled with quiet pride. "Because I'm not done spoiling you yet."

Suddenly, Conner had you straddling his waist, your thighs resting firmly on either side of his hips as his hands roamed over your body with an intensity that made your pulse race. His calloused palms gripped your ass firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a lingering warmth against your skin. The strength of his touch sent a shiver through you, a perfect mix of control and affection that made you feel completely consumed by him.

He shifted beneath you slightly, his muscles flexing under your weight as he adjusted your position to pull you even closer. His lips curled into a teasing smirk as his hands tightened on your backside, the possessiveness in his gaze making your breath hitch. Without warning, he raised one hand and brought it down with a sharp, deliberate smack against your ass.

The sudden sting was quickly followed by a rush of heat that spread through your body, the sound of the slap echoing in the room. You gasped softly, the mixture of surprise and pleasure making your body instinctively arch toward him. Conner's smirk grew wider, his ocean-blue eyes darkening with desire as he watched your reaction closely.

"You like that?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a teasing edge that sent a thrill through you. Before you could respond, his hand came down again, another firm smack that made your skin tingle and your heart race. The way his strong hand lingered afterward, kneading the spot he had just struck, sent shivers down your spine.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as his other hand slid up your back, holding you steady. "You drive me crazy," he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with raw affection and desire. His breath was hot, his kisses deliberate as he nipped lightly at your neck before trailing his tongue along the sensitive area.

His hand on your ass delivered another firm smack, the impact sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "I could do this all night," he muttered, his tone both playful and commanding as his lips moved back to claim yours in a kiss that was as consuming as it was passionate. His grip on you remained firm, his hands alternating between soothing caresses and sharp, tantalizing slaps that kept your body tingling with anticipation.

Every movement, every touch, every deliberate action reminded you just how deeply Conner desired you, his actions a perfect blend of strength, passion, and unwavering affection.

Your body pressed firmly against Conner's, your fingers tangled in his short, dark hair as his lips claimed yours with a fiery intensity. The kiss was deep and unrelenting, filled with passion that made the rest of the world fade into insignificance. Conner's hands gripped your waist firmly, pulling you impossibly closer, as if the space between you was unacceptable.

A low moan escaped your lips, muffled against his, as the heat between you built to an overwhelming crescendo. You felt his lips curve into a small, satisfied smile against your mouth, his body reacting to every sound you made. Breaking the kiss for a brief moment, you tilted your head slightly to whisper in his ear, letting out another soft moan, the sound raw and unfiltered. His sharp intake of breath and the way his grip tightened on you told you exactly how much it affected him.

Just as Conner's lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving a path of slow, deliberate kisses, a loud knock echoed through the room, startling you both. The sound cut through the intimate atmosphere like a knife, and you felt Conner stiffen beneath you, his grip on your waist momentarily freezing.

A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he turned his head toward the door, his expression shifting into one of pure annoyance. Without letting go of you or breaking the connection between your bodies, he raised his voice, his tone sharp and commanding.

"Go away," Conner barked, the edge in his voice leaving no room for argument.

You couldn't help but smile at the irritation lacing his words, finding his reaction both protective and endearing. His attention shifted back to you almost instantly, his hands moving back to your hips as he resumed where he left off, his lips brushing against your neck now.

"They better not knock again," he muttered against your skin, his voice low and full of barely restrained frustration. The way his breath warmed your neck sent shivers down your spine, and the momentary interruption quickly melted away as Conner's focus returned entirely to you.

The knock may have broken the rhythm for a moment, but the intensity between you two reignited almost immediately, pulling you both back into the heat of the moment as if nothing had happened.

Conner's body was taut beneath you, every muscle coiled with tension as the heat between you both continued to build. His breaths came heavier, his chest rising and falling beneath your hands, and you could feel the unmistakable hardness pressing against you. His arousal was evident, firm and insistent, a clear sign of just how much he wanted you.

The way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, left no room for doubt. Conner's smirk turned devilish as he shifted slightly beneath you, making you acutely aware of the growing pressure. "You're killing me," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire, his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with a gaze that felt like it could set you on fire.

As you shifted in his lap, the friction only made the tension between you more palpable. His arousal strained against the fabric of his pajamas, firm and ready to break free from its confines. The way his body reacted to every subtle movement of yours sent shivers of anticipation through you, and the intensity in his expression made it clear he wasn't planning on holding back much longer.

His hands slid up your thighs, his touch deliberate and teasing as his lips found their way to your neck once again. "You've got me ready to lose control," he whispered against your skin, his tone filled with equal parts affection and raw, unfiltered want. The promise in his voice was enough to make your heart race as you felt the full extent of his desire, firm and eager to join the moment.

Conner removed his hands from your body briefly, his gaze locked onto yours as he reached for the waistband of his pajamas. The tension in the air was almost palpable, each second feeling like an eternity as he slowly pushed both his pajamas and underwear down in one fluid motion. The fabric slid over his hips, revealing the taut, sculpted muscles of his lower body, every inch of his physique a testament to his raw strength.

And then, there it was—his dick sprang free, standing proudly, thick and fully erect. At nine inches, it was impossible to ignore, commanding attention with its sheer size and firmness. The sight alone sent a rush of heat through your body, making your breath catch in your throat. The way he exuded confidence, his body radiating a natural, effortless dominance, only added to the allure.

Conner's smirk widened slightly as he noticed your reaction, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and desire. He stepped closer, the tension in his movements now replaced with a sense of ease and purpose. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer as his body pressed against yours, the heat of his skin intoxicating.

"You've got me all worked up," he murmured, his deep voice low and teasing as his fingers brushed lightly against your sides. The weight of his dick against you was undeniable, a reminder of the intensity simmering between you two.

The moment was electric, the anticipation thick in the air and before you knew it, Conner's hands gripped your hips firmly, his touch grounding and steady as he positioned himself beneath you. The heat of his body pressed against yours, and his ocean-blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Every movement he made was deliberate, filled with purpose, as if he wanted to savor every moment leading up to this.

His dick, thick and pulsing with anticipation, rested heavily against you. You could feel its heat, its weight, as he shifted slightly, aligning himself with your entrance. The sheer size of him made you gasp softly, your body trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. Conner's hands slid back up to your sides, his thumbs brushing soothing circles into your skin as he leaned in closer.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and full of reassurance. His lips found the curve of your jaw, pressing gentle kisses there as he adjusted his position. His dick pressed lightly against your ass now, the sensation sending a spark of heat through your body. The deliberate way he moved, slow and measured, showed how much care he was taking—not just to avoid rushing, but to ensure you were ready for him.

His gaze flicked back to yours, his blue eyes softened with affection but still darkened with desire. "Tell me if it's too much," he said softly, his hands tightening slightly on your hips as he aligned himself perfectly with your hole. The pressure was subtle at first, a promise of what was to come, but it was enough to make your breath hitch and your heart race.

Every touch, every movement felt charged with emotion as Conner held you steady, his body and his presence radiating both strength and tenderness. This was more than just physical—it was intimate, personal, a moment that seemed to transcend words as he prepared to join with you completely.

Your hands gripped Conner's strong shoulders for balance as you slowly began to move, your body adjusting to the fullness of him. The first motion was tentative, deliberate, as you raised yourself just slightly before sliding back down, taking him deeper. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him stretching and filling you in a way that made your breath hitch and your heart race.

Conner's hands remained firm on your hips as he guided your movements with subtle pressure, his touch a blend of control and encouragement. His ocean-blue eyes stayed locked on yours, his gaze filled with both awe and desire as he watched you take him, inch by inch. The way his chest rose and fell with deep, uneven breaths told you he was holding back, letting you set the pace.

As you moved again, the motion became smoother, more confident. Slowly, you began to find a rhythm, rising up and sliding back down, feeling every ridge and curve of him as you did. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through your body, building steadily with each motion. Conner's low groan rumbled through the air, his fingers digging into your hips just enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"You feel so good," Conner murmured, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion. His head tilted back slightly, exposing the strong line of his jaw, but his eyes never left you. His hands began to move with you, guiding your rhythm as you continued to ride him, the intensity between you growing with every passing moment.

The connection between you was electric, every touch, every motion building a tension that seemed to radiate through the room. Conner's quiet groans and whispered encouragements spurred you on, his voice wrapping around you like a warm embrace as you continued to move together in perfect harmony.

Soon Conner's fingers pressed into your skin just enough to ground you. You could feel the subtle shift in his energy, his need to guide you taking over as his hands began to set a rhythm, slowly increasing your pace.

"Let me take care of you," Conner murmured, his voice low and husky, filled with both affection and desire. His eyes met yours, their ocean-blue depths darkened with passion, and the look he gave you made your breath catch. His grip on your waist tightened slightly as he moved you, raising your body just enough before lowering you back down onto him, the deliberate motion making you take him deeper.

The change in pace was subtle at first, his guidance smooth and controlled, but you could feel his need building with each motion. His powerful hands worked in perfect synchronization with your body, lifting and guiding you to move faster, the rhythm between you becoming more intense. The sensation of him filling you completely, again and again, was almost overwhelming, pleasure radiating through you with every movement.

"You feel so damn good," Conner groaned, his voice roughened by the sheer intensity of the moment. His hands slid slightly up your waist, his thumbs brushing against your ribs as he continued to guide you, his strength making the faster pace feel effortless. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by his soft groans and your quiet moans, the connection between you electric and all-consuming.

As he urged you to go faster, his own hips began to rise slightly to meet your movements, the added force sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His head tilted back slightly, his lips parting as he let out a deep, guttural moan that made your heart race. His hands never faltered, holding you steady and ensuring every movement brought you both closer to the edge.

"Just like that," Conner whispered, his voice dripping with both encouragement and need. The rhythm between you built steadily, the intensity growing with every second as his hands guided you faster, harder, deeper. The room seemed to blur around you, leaving only the feeling of him beneath you, his touch on your skin, and the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you both.

Before you could fully register the shift, Conner's strong hands moved with purpose, gripping your hips as he adjusted his angle. In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, gently pushing you onto your back while still buried deep inside you. The sheer strength and control of his movements sent a shiver through your body, the sudden change in position amplifying the intensity of your connection.

Your back pressed against the mattress as Conner hovered over you, his broad shoulders and sculpted frame casting a shadow over you. His hands slid to your thighs, gripping them firmly as he repositioned himself, adjusting his angle with precision. His piercing blue eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze stealing your breath.

"Hold on to me," he murmured, his voice low and filled with both command and affection. The sound sent a jolt of heat straight through you, and without thinking, your hands found their way to his back, your fingers digging into his firm muscles.

Conner's hips began to move again, the deliberate thrusts sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, each motion hitting places that left you gasping. His pace was steady at first, a mix of controlled power and tenderness, as if he wanted to savor every moment of being this close to you. His gaze never wavered, watching your every reaction as if committing them to memory.

"Damn," he groaned, his voice rough with desire as his hands slid along your thighs, pulling you closer to him. His thrusts grew faster, his hips meeting yours with increasing urgency as he surrendered to the intensity building between you. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, accompanied by the deep, guttural groans that escaped his lips and the breathless moans spilling from yours.

His head dipped lower, his lips finding your neck as he pressed kisses to your heated skin. The combination of his movements and the sensation of his warm breath against your neck left you completely overwhelmed, your body arching beneath him in response. His hands slid up to your waist, holding you steady as his rhythm became more forceful, his need for you evident in every deliberate thrust.

Each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The room felt electric, every nerve in your body alight as he drove deeper into you, his hips moving with an unrelenting pace. Your breath hitched, your hands clutching at his broad shoulders for stability, but nothing could ground you against the overwhelming sensations.

"Conner..." you moaned, his name spilling from your lips without thought, raw and filled with the intensity of everything he was making you feel. Your voice trembled, the sound echoing in the heated air between you. The way his name left your lips seemed to spark something in him, his movements becoming even more deliberate, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

Hearing you call his name made Conner groan deeply, his breath warm and heavy as he leaned closer, his body pressing against yours. His blue eyes darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. "Say it again," he growled softly, his voice low and filled with a mix of command and need.

"Conner," you gasped again, louder this time, the sound unfiltered as the heat between you built to an almost unbearable peak. His hands tightened on your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you closer, his thrusts coming faster now, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Your body arched beneath him, completely at his mercy as his name tumbled from your lips over and over, a desperate chant that only seemed to spur him on.

"Just like that," he murmured, his voice thick and ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. "Let me hear you. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His pace quickened even more, his hips moving with a raw, unrelenting passion that left you clinging to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sounds of his groans, the slap of skin against skin, and your own voice calling his name filled the room, a symphony of unrestrained desire as he drove you both closer to the edge. Conner's strength, his control, and the sheer depth of his connection to you left you completely undone, your moans of his name the only thing you could manage as he pushed you to heights you'd never imagined.

The pleasure built inside you, overwhelming and unstoppable, as Conner's relentless pace drove you closer and closer to the edge. Your body tensed, your breath hitching sharply as you felt the rising heat coil deep within you, ready to burst. Each thrust sent another jolt of pleasure through you, the intensity mounting until you couldn't hold back any longer.

With a sharp cry of his name, you surrendered completely, your body arching against him as you released. A stream of your hot seed spilled out, the sensation crashing over you like a tidal wave. The release was overwhelming, leaving your mind blank and your body trembling in his grasp. Your nails dug into Conner's shoulders, your moans spilling freely from your lips as the waves of pleasure rippled through you, one after another.

Conner groaned deeply, his breath ragged as he held you steady, his strong hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. His eyes flickered down to take in the sight of you completely undone beneath him, your chest heaving, your cheeks flushed, and your release marking the moment with undeniable evidence of the connection you shared.

"You're so damn handsome," he murmured, his voice low and full of awe as his pace slowed slightly, letting you ride out the final tremors of your climax. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he continued to move within you, savoring the closeness and the heat radiating between your bodies.

The moment felt infinite, your body still trembling from the force of your release as Conner's steady presence anchored you. His lips brushed against your cheek, his hands gently caressing your sides as he whispered, "We're not done yet." The promise in his voice sent another shiver through you, and despite the blissful exhaustion settling in, you couldn't help but crave more.

Suddenly, Conner's grip on your hips tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin as he buried himself deeper inside you. His thrusts became faster, harder, and more relentless, the sheer power behind them taking your breath away. It was as though he'd reached a breaking point, his self-control unraveling as he chased his own release with an intensity that left you completely at his mercy.

"God, you feel so good," Conner growled, his voice rough and strained, each word punctuated by the force of his movements. His head dipped down, his lips finding the crook of your neck as he kissed and nipped at your skin, his breath hot and uneven against you. The sounds he made—deep, guttural groans that seemed to come from deep within his chest—only added to the electricity crackling between you.

Your body rocked with every thrust, the sheer power of his movements sending waves of pleasure coursing through you all over again. His pace was unrelenting, his hips snapping forward as he lost himself completely in the moment, his need for you driving him into overdrive. The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of your bodies moving together, accompanied by his moans and your breathless gasps, the air thick with heat and passion.

Conner's grip on you became almost desperate as his pace quickened even more, his thrusts deep and hard, pushing both of you to the brink. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled beneath your hands as he reached his limit. His breath came in ragged gasps, his groans growing louder and more primal with each thrust.

"Can't hold it anymore," Conner growled, his voice rough and raw as he thrust into you one final time, burying himself as deeply as he could. His body tensed, and with a low, guttural moan, he released, a hot surge of his seed spilling inside you. The heat of it sent a shiver through your body, the sensation overwhelming as you felt every pulse of his release.

Conner stayed buried inside you, his body trembling slightly as he let out a long, shuddering breath. His arms slid around you, pulling you close as he rested his forehead against yours, his ocean-blue eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and satisfaction.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with a quiet reverence as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His hands moved to caress your sides, his touch soothing as you both basked in the afterglow, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and utterly content in each other's arms.

After a moment of stillness, Conner let out a deep, contented sigh and slowly pulled out of you, his movements gentle and careful. The absence of him left a mix of relief and longing, but his warm presence remained as he immediately shifted closer, wrapping his strong arms around you. The weight of his body against yours and the soothing rhythm of his breathing anchored you in the moment, bringing a quiet sense of comfort and safety.

He pulled the blanket over the both of you, tucking it snugly around your shoulders as you nestled into his chest. His fingers traced idle patterns along your back, a tender gesture that made your body relax further into his embrace. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, combined with the warmth of his skin, lulled you into a state of pure tranquility. Your eyes grew heavier, the exhaustion from the intensity of the moment pulling you closer to sleep.

Just as your breaths started to slow, the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by a sudden, sharp knock at the door. The sound startled you awake, and you felt Conner stiffen beside you, his body instantly alert. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, and without a word, he reached for the blanket, pulling it up to cover you completely before sliding out of bed.

"Stay here," he murmured softly, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. He grabbed his boxers from the floor, slipping them on with practiced ease before making his way to the door. His movements were fluid but purposeful, his broad shoulders and muscular frame silhouetted in the dim light as he approached.

Conner placed a hand on the doorknob, pausing for a brief moment to glance back at you. His expression softened when he saw you peeking out from beneath the covers, and he gave you a small, reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the door.

Conner cracked the door open just enough to see who was on the other side, his body positioned to block the view of the room. When he saw M'gann standing there, her expression bright and hopeful, he let out a quiet sigh, his irritation easing into polite patience.

"Conner," M'gann said, her tone light and cheerful as she leaned slightly into the doorway. "We're all about to sit down for dinner. I thought maybe you'd want to join us?"

Conner glanced back toward the bed for a brief moment, his protective instincts kicking in as he ensured you were still tucked away and comfortable. Then, turning back to M'gann, he gave her a polite but firm smile. "Thanks, M'gann, but I'm going to pass tonight," he said, his voice calm and even. "I've already got plans."

M'gann's expression faltered slightly, the smile on her face tightening for a brief moment, but she quickly recovered. "Oh... okay," she said, trying to keep her tone casual. "Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, maybe," Conner replied, his tone kind but noncommittal as he gently closed the door. He stood there for a moment, letting out a small sigh before turning back toward you, his expression softening the instant his gaze landed on you.

Sliding back under the covers, Conner wrapped his arms around you once more, pulling you close against his chest. "Sorry about that," he muttered, his voice low and soothing as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "Now, where were we?"

You smiled sleepily, your head resting against his chest as you let the warmth of his embrace pull you back into the peaceful haze of sleep. "Right here," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Conner chuckled lightly, his grip on you tightening just enough to remind you that you were safe and loved. "Exactly," he said, his tone filled with quiet affection. "Just us. Always." And with that, the world faded away again, leaving only the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his arms as you drifted back into sleep.

[pixistix-xp]

1/: therian, nonhuman, questioning others :]

2/: Wolf/werewolf and black cat ^_^

3/: I experience phantom shifts! I do get wing shifts sometimes, although I do not have any know theriotypes to have wings. XD

4/: well... I experience it to every extent. being a physical really does weigh in on my experience. I feel the need to be precieved as a wolf, I feel werewolf/wolf all the time, I never feel human fully, I am always a wolf, werewolf, or have important features in my head. Basically, my brain precieves myself and everything around me through wolf perspective!

5/: it depends on where you look! tiktok: huge no, snapchat: also huge no, insta: hardly see us other than being bullied, tumblr: best alterhuman platform tbh, reddit: sometimes okay, mostly no, and super obscure random alterhuman websites tend to have the best communities. I mostly hate the way the community claims to be accepting yet we all subconsciously put others down (even i used to have a problem with that and still probably do (call me out on that btw)). the actually accepting parts of the community are very awesome though and I'm glad to have a space to be free and share my feelings without much judgement! I feel very seen and heard.

6/: AGHHH I COULD GO ON A RANT FOREVER! I love the woods, cozy and dark spaces, paw tattoos, claw mark tattoos, red flannels, black nail polish and glow in the dark nail polish, bare"foot" walking (especially on sand), jumping in water, rain, winter, my back teeth, phantom limbs, and more! for my black cat theriotype, although I really am not experiencing much euphoria or dysphoria recently, nostalgia, red eye photos, cameras, being scared, minecraft, dying my hair, being called bad luck, walking in hallways and alleys, and more!

7/: yes, not as bad as I was awhile ago, but it'll come back like mid January maybe sooner

8/: do proper research and talk to older alterhumans! also, it takes TIME to find yourself and your true identity, don't rush into anything!

9/: I do really want some when I'm older, out of the house I'm in, and have money! I want a tail, ears, paws, tattoos, fake teeth, and maybe patch more of my clothes. I also want a werewolf fursuit to be able to feel more wolf-like on full moons.

10/: my werewolf origins are heavily unknown, i genuinley just think i was born this way, and I might not ever know how or why I'm a werewolf. my black cat origins are heavily psychologically and emotionally induced. really just being outcasted and feeling "weird and different" socially caused me to just- be a cat XD for some reason whenever I was little I just said "I AM A CAT" and i know why I felt animalistic, where I got cat from, who knows :,]

11/: i feel like you would enjoy tag games XD (all good if not!) @hexemil

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈