#if they don’t interact I don’t know what I’d do

[landososcar]

jump then fall ; ln4

chapter one — i’m feeling you, baby

— pairing(s) ; college basketball captain!lando norris x college tutor!reader

— summary ; in which lando was so worried about his grades falling, he didn’t realise he was too.

— warnings ; 1692 words, death of a parent (mentioned), alcohol mentioned, nothing else i don’t think!

— note ; longer note at the end but i know this is set in america but i refuse to write ‘mom’ instead of ‘mum’ idc who that bothers

masterlist , next

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the library was not a popular hangout space on a friday night for many of the people i go to school with — i know this because i'm one of the few people who regular the two story building.

tonight, like most nights, my corner of the library was deserted. a few students sat scattered across the first floor, scrolling through their phones or cramming for last-minute deadlines, but upstairs, where i always worked, it was silent. the kind of silence that wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing and distracting all at once.

i had just opened my laptop and pulled out my notes for monday’s tutoring session when i heard the unmistakable sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.

i looked up, half expecting a lost freshman wandering in search of the printers, but what i saw instead almost made me freeze.

lando norris.

he was hard to miss — tall, broad-shouldered, perpetually disheveled in that annoyingly effortless way athletes always seemed to master. his varsity basketball jacket hung loosely on him, and his backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder. he didn’t belong here. not just because he was the school’s golden boy or because his team was undefeated this season, but because lando norris had a reputation. parties, games, and the occasional appearance in class—those were his natural habitats. the library was not.

he stopped a few feet away from my table, glancing down at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, then back up at me.

“are you y/n?” he asked, his voice deep but tinged with uncertainty.

i blinked at him, trying to piece together how he even knew my name. “uh, yeah. why?”

relief washed over his face, and he shoved the paper into his pocket. “good. i need your help.”

i arched an eyebrow. “with what?”

“passing calculus,” he said, flashing a grin that was somehow both charming and exasperating.

i stared at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. “calculus,” i repeated, as if saying the word out loud might somehow make this whole interaction make sense. since when did he care about passing classes?

“yeah.” he dropped his bag onto the table across from me with a soft thud and sank into the chair. “i have no idea what’s going on in that class. coach says i’ll be benched if i don’t pull my grade up, and the professor said you’re the best tutor on campus. so, here i am.”

my brain took a second to catch up. calculus wasn’t exactly light reading, and the idea of tutoring lando norris—someone i’d only ever seen surrounded by teammates, fans, or beautiful women—felt surreal. i’d heard his name in passing a hundred times, seen him on flyers for basketball games, but this was the closest i’d ever been to the school’s star athlete.

and now he wanted me to help him?

“why now?” i asked, leaning back in my chair, my brows furrowed. “the semester started months ago. you’ve just realized you’re failing?”

he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “something like that. look, i know this is probably the last thing you want to be doing on a friday night, but…” he paused, his hazel eyes meeting mine, almost pleading. “i really need this… i can’t be benched—it’ll ruin my shot with scouts, you know?”

i wanted to say no, that i didn’t understand. i had other students to tutor, i had my own workload, and honestly, i wasn’t sure if he was the type to take tutoring seriously. but something in the way he looked at me—equal parts desperation and genuine hope—made me hesitate.

“i don’t know,” i said slowly, closing my notebook. “do you even have your textbook with you?”

he froze. “textbook?”

i sighed, already regretting this. “yes, textbook. the big, heavy thing with equations in it? you’re going to need one if you want me to help you.”

“right, yeah. got it. i’ll bring it next time,” he said quickly, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “so, you’ll help me?”

i hesitated, weighing my options. if he failed, it wouldn’t just be his grade on the line—it’d be his position on the team, and judging by the way he was looking at me, i got the feeling basketball wasn’t just a sport to him.

“fine,” i said, crossing my arms. “but i’m not doing all the work for you. you show up on time, bring your materials, and actually put in the effort. if you don’t, i’m done.”

his grin returned, wider this time, and he nodded enthusiastically. “deal.”

“—and i charge $35 an hour.” he nods, muttering something about anything is fine and i hold back the urge to roll my eyes at him, “good. then i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” his face fell slightly, like he hadn’t expected this to start so soon.

“yes, tomorrow,” i said firmly, “i have to fit you in between other students whenever i can, and if you want to pass, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. be here at eight.”

“eight a.m. or p.m.?”

i narrowed my eyes.

“got it. eight a.m.,” he said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. he begun to get up from his chair, slinging his bag over his shoulder before he paused, “actually…” he looked at me sheepishly, “i’ve got training from six-thirty until eight, can we meet here at eight-thirty?”

i scoffed and his face looked as if he regretted asking, “eight-fifteen, i can’t do any later. i’ve got training at nine-thirty.”

his eyes furrowed at my mention of ‘training’ but before he could ask any questions i continued, “goodnight, lando,” i said, and he nodded his head, beginning to walk out of the library.

“night, y/n.”

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the cool night air hit me as i stepped outside the library, the faint hum of campus life echoing in the distance. a group of students passed by, their drunken laughter bouncing off the pavement as they stumbled around, but i barely noticed them. my thoughts were still tangled up in the unexpected turn my evening had taken.

lando norris. calculus. tutoring. it felt surreal, like i’d just stepped into someone else’s story for a moment.

i adjusted my bag on my shoulder and headed toward the front of the school where the large forever-open gates would lead me home.

the walk home wasn’t far—just ten minutes away from campus—but it gave me enough time to collect my thoughts. as i turned onto the street where i lived, the familiar weight of responsibility settled on my chest.

as i made it to the apartment building, i prepared myself for the three flights of stairs ahead of me—thanks to the elevator doors that still held the ‘out of service’ sign. i unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeted by the sound of soft giggles and the faint hum of the tv.

“y/n!”

my five-year-old brother, lukas, came barreling down the hallway, his tiny socks sliding across the hardwood floor. he launched himself into my arms, and i dropped my bag just in time to catch him.

“hey, buddy,” i said, ruffling his messy curls. “did you have a good night?”

he nodded enthusiastically. “we had chicken nuggets, and i beat the boss level in my game! liam helped me.”

i glanced up as liam, our neighbor’s teenage son and occasional babysitter, appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile. “he insisted on showing me his video game skills,” liam said, shrugging. “and he was pretty good.”

“thanks for staying late,” i said, shifting lukas onto my hip.

“no problem. he’s a great kid,” liam replied, grabbing his backpack. “anything else you need?”

“no, we’re good. i’ll text you about next week,” i said as he headed out the door.

once it was just me and lukas, i carried him to the couch and set him down. “it’s bedtime,” i said, giving him a stern look.

“five more minutes?” he asked, his wide eyes pleading.

i sighed, already feeling the exhaustion from the day creeping in. “five minutes. then brush your teeth.”

lukas grinned, turning his attention back to the cartoon on the tv, while i went into the kitchen. the sink was full of dishes i hadn’t gotten to this morning, and there was a pile of unopened mail on the counter. i leaned against the counter and rubbed my temples, trying to ignore the growing list of things i needed to handle.

between my classes, tutoring, and my part-time job at the diner across from campus, i barely had enough hours in the day. add taking care of lukas to the mix, and it felt like i was constantly teetering on the edge of burnout. but i didn’t have a choice.

after mum died two years ago, it was just the two of us. dad hadn’t been in the picture for years—not that it mattered. i wasn’t about to let anyone else decide what happened to lukas. he was mine to protect now.

“y/n?” lukas’ small voice pulled me from my thoughts. he stood in the doorway, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“yeah, lukey?” i asked, straightening up.

“are you okay?”

i forced a smile. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?”

he tilted his head like he didn’t quite believe me. “you look sad.”

my chest tightened, but i crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “i’m not sad,” i said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “i’m just tired. but i’ll always have time for you, okay?”

“okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around my neck.

as i hugged him back, i thought about the crumpled bills in my wallet, the overdue rent notice i’d stuffed into my bag, and the tutoring session i’d somehow agreed to with lando norris.

i had no idea how i was going to balance everything, but for lukas, i had to, “let’s get you to bed, luke.”

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— longer note ; ignore me starting a new series when i’ve only posted 3 chapters of my other series lollll umm sorry. anyways im so much more excited and motivated to write for this story so ‘packing it up’ can wait til im interested in her again im sorry.

— taglist ; im open to making one if anyone’s interested ahhahah

[latrespada]

ᯓ ✈︎ rotten to the core

Caleb’s jealousy knows no bounds. He becomes fiercely possessive whenever anyone gets too close to you, especially if he sees you interacting with someone else. The moment he perceives a threat, a "punishment" follows, one that’s far from ordinary. His discipline feels more like a mix of control and intimacy, blurring the line between pain and pleasure. As intense as it is, you can’t help but crave more, questioning if it’s truly a punishment when it leaves you yearning for more of him.

lads caleb x reader

warnings: jealousy, teasing, light bondage, couch sex, finger sucking, caleb's evol going out of control, slight choking, possessive sex, rough sex, sex while on the phone

6k words rated : e

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62332453

A/N: I find Caleb's jealousy attractive; not the toxic kind, but the pathetic type that tries to one-up everyone, even over trivial matters. Also the possessive jealousy. That is HOT!!

Take note of Caleb’s outfit in this; it's that nerdy one he wore in his trailer when he’s upset for poking his plumpy butt. The one with the white sleeveless top and his thick, beefy, veiny bicep. And the glasses.

If you don't know what I mean, check it out : https://x.com/kittysylus/status/1879371878793724285/photo/2

CRED divider by @enchanthings-a

The golden hues of the setting sun spill through the windows as you step into your home, finally free after a long day of finishing work reports and your monthly physical. The sight of Caleb sprawled out on the couch immediately warms you. He’s lounging with one arm propped behind his head, a book balanced casually in his hand, the picture of relaxed ease.

“I’m home,” you call out as you flop onto the couch, not caring that you’re practically lying on him.

“Hectic day?” he asks, his voice low, a welcome balm to your weary mind.

“Not really,” you murmur, rolling onto your back and wedging yourself into the narrow space between him and the couch cushions. “I’d still rather be off fighting Wanderers than stuck doing paperwork, though.”

“At least you weren’t in danger,” Caleb replies, turning a page in his book before tucking his arm back behind his head.

You sigh deeply, staring at the ceiling. “I had another appointment with Zayne today. The results are steady, which is good. I just have to keep taking my meds.”

Caleb’s tone shifts slightly when he replies, darker somehow. “Is that so?”

You glance up at him, sensing the tension in his words. He’s staring at the book, but it’s clear his thoughts are miles away.

“Yeah…” you answer cautiously, tilting your head to catch his eye. When he notices your gaze, he snaps the book shut and tosses it to the floor with a thud.

“Does Zayne really need to be your doctor?” Caleb asks abruptly, his voice laced with something unspoken.

You blink, startled. “I mean, he’s the best cardiologist—”

“I know that,” Caleb interrupts, his words sharp but not unkind. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” He reaches out and places a hand over your face, shaking your head gently, as if to dismiss the topic.

You bat his hand away and sit up, turning to face him directly. “Don’t I deserve the best there is?” Your tone carries a faint edge, one you didn’t intend, but it’s there nonetheless—a hint of hurt.

Caleb frowns, his expression clouding with something close to jealousy. “You do,” he admits, but the words come out like a hiss.

“Then Zayne will stay my doctor,” you say firmly, standing and blowing him a playful kiss as you make your way toward the kitchen.

Behind you, Caleb mutters under his breath, then calls after you, “Why him, though? Isn’t there some policy against this?”

You stop in your tracks and turn to him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Caleb gets up and strides toward you, his smirk not quite masking the seriousness in his eyes. “You can’t have some sort of intimate relationship with your doctor—family, romantic, whatever. Maybe I should report him.” He chuckles, but the sound is hollow.

You close the distance between you, placing a hand firmly on his chest. “That’s not funny, Caleb,” you say, pouting as you meet his gaze.

His laughter fades, replaced by a look you can’t quite read. The tension lingers in the air between you, heavy and unspoken, but the warmth of his presence anchors you nonetheless.

“I’m joking. Since when can’t you take a hint?” Caleb ruffles your hair as he walks past you, heading into the kitchen. He’s trying to play it cool, but there’s an edge to his voice, something unresolved. “What should we have for dinner?”

You lean over the counter, your arms folded, watching him closely. The way his shoulders tense, as he opens and closes cabinets, gives him away. It’s painfully obvious that his mind is still on Zayne.

You can’t help but laugh softly to yourself.

Caleb freezes mid-motion, turning to face you with a puzzled expression. “Oh great, you’re probably thinking of a joke he said.”

You snort. “Zayne and jokes, really?”

Silence falls between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. The two of you lock eyes, a silent battle of wills. His expression falters for just a second, enough for you to see that even he knows how ridiculous his comment is. Zayne’s humor is notoriously flat, and everyone knows it. Caleb breaks eye contact first, turning back to rummage through the cabinets, feigning interest in their contents.

You rest your chin on your crossed arms, a smirk playing on your lips as you study him. You know Caleb like the back of your hand—better than anyone. He’s never been one to openly admit jealousy, but his actions scream it louder than words ever could. Caleb has a compulsive need to be the one who makes you smile the widest, laugh the loudest, and feel the most alive.

The thing is, Caleb’s never shown this kind of jealousy toward Zayne before. Back in the day, things were simple; everyone was friendly, and there was no room for these petty emotions. But ever since you became a hunter, with mandatory check-ups and more frequent visits to Zayne’s clinic, Caleb’s demeanor started to shift. Not that he’d ever outright forbid you from doing something—he knows better than to try that—but his subtle, possessive tendencies? Oh, they’re there, and they’re obvious.

You bite your lip, a mischievous glint in your eyes. You’re plotting now, deliberately trying to press his buttons.

“You’re so clingy, Caleb,” you drawl, dragging the words out just enough to poke the bear.

“Hm.” His nonchalant response is laced with tension.

“I mean, just last week, you did the same thing.”

That gets him. Caleb slams a box of pasta onto the counter with a thud, his palms splaying out as he leans forward, head tilting back toward the ceiling like he’s begging for patience. He inhales deeply before turning his head, not his body, to look at you. His eyes are sharp, and piercing, and there’s an intensity to them that makes your breath hitch.

“I said I was sorry,” he says, his tone eerily calm, almost robotic.

“Yeah, well, things escalated, and he heard us,” you grumble, leaning back for effect.

Caleb picks up the pasta box again, shaking it as he waves his arms dramatically. “Why does the upstairs neighbor even need to talk to you every time he sees you?” he complains. “What’s his name again, Xander?”

“Xavier,” you correct without missing a beat.

Caleb freezes mid-motion. His shoulders stiffen as he turns his head just slightly, his expression neutral but with just enough of a comedic edge—thick-framed glasses perched on his nose, his jaw set—to make you stifle a laugh.

You catch the faintest twitch in his bicep, a telltale sign that your teasing is working.

You press your hand to your mouth, trying to smother a grin and the laughter bubbling in your throat. You know full well that Caleb remembers Xavier’s name perfectly; he just deliberately got it wrong to downplay how much he pays attention. And now, judging by the look on his face, he regrets giving you an opening to correct him.

“He’s my work partner,” you say with a light chuckle, trying to sound casual. “We were talking about work…” You pause briefly for effect, watching his expression remain frozen. “A work gathering.”

The silence that follows is heavy with unspoken thoughts, but the way Caleb’s jaw tightens just enough lets you know you’ve gotten under his skin. You don’t mind, though—it’s all part of the game.

“And what? Did this Xavier complain?” Caleb sneers, dragging out the name like it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. His exaggerated disdain is so obvious, it’s hard not to laugh.

“No,” you reply with a chuckle. “Worried, maybe. But honestly, how do you even explain that situation?”

Caleb rolls his eyes in mock frustration, the gesture exaggerated but not unexpected.

“And to answer your earlier question,” you continue, pointing a finger at him while puckering your lips for emphasis, “Zayne isn’t breaking any rules.”

Caleb’s gaze drops to the box of pasta in his hands as if seeking answers there. His silence speaks volumes, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his head. He’s not even trying to mask his annoyance anymore.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” you tease, leaning casually against the counter. “Zayne and I do have a personal connection, but that was way before he became my doctor. Besides, we lost touch long before any of that. So, technically…” you smirk, “no rules are being broken.”

Caleb tosses the pasta box onto the counter with the dramatics of a jilted soap opera star, the motion so over-the-top it makes you laugh.

His jealousy is nothing new—it’s always been there, simmering beneath the surface. But when it comes to Zayne, it’s glaringly obvious and almost endearing. What makes it funnier is that the jealousy is entirely one-sided.

He doesn’t speak. Instead, he just stares, his gaze unyielding but not threatening, more predatory. The intensity in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, but you bite your lip to hide the thrill it gives you.

Finally, Caleb strides toward you with purpose. Your arms instinctively fling open as if welcoming his approach, and his hands grip your waist firmly—almost possessively. It stings, but not unpleasantly. Before you can process it, you hop up, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

His nose brushes against yours, the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips as he whispers, “It’s not fair. He gets to listen to your heart, to be so close to your chest.”

You laugh softly, his childish complaint both absurd and hypocritical. Caleb spends more time listening to your heartbeat than Zayne ever could. Every chance he gets, he lays his head on your chest, claiming it’s his right.

“Zayne needs a stethoscope to hear my heart,” you tease, letting your voice drop into a husky, breathy tone. “But you don’t need that.”

In one swift motion, Caleb spins you around and lays you flat against the counter, his hands gripping your hips. His lips trail down your torso, his breath hot against your skin.

“I should be the only one listening to your heart,” he murmurs, his voice low and possessive. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I know every inch of your body better than any doctor. Why would you even need them?”

“Doctors can tell a murmur from a regular heartbeat,” you retort with a smirk.

“I’m done talking about cardiology,” Caleb mutters, his grin wicked. “I was talking about other doctors.”

He spreads your legs slightly, resting his head against your stomach, his breath fanning over your skin as he exhales deeply.

“Am I being punished again?” you ask, your voice laced with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“Do you want to be?” he mumbles, his lips brushing against your skin.

You chuckle softly, biting your bottom lip. “No.” With a quick push against his head, you slide off the counter before he can pin you further. “I need to get out of these clothes. It’s been a long day,” you say, your tone dripping with sass.

As you move past him, Caleb grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful. “Let me help, then.”

“No,” you reply, shaking his hand off with mock defiance.

He sighs, his voice dipping into a playful growl. “Be a good girl.”

“No.”

“Sit.”

Before you can process what’s happening, your knees buckle, and you find yourself on all fours, your hands bracing against the floor for balance. Caleb’s gravity control Evol pins you down just enough to make his point.

“Atta girl,” he teases, his tone light yet commanding. He crouches before you, tilting your chin up with a gentle but firm hand. “Let. Me. Help. You.”

“He’s going to hear us again,” you giggle, finally achieving the reaction you’d been aiming for.

“Then tell him to stop eavesdropping, pipsqueak,” Caleb retorts with a smirk.

Releasing his control, he effortlessly picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. With a playful grin, he throws you onto the couch and towers over you, his overwhelming and intoxicating presence.

“Another word and I’ll have to keep you quiet,” he warns, reaching for his glasses.

You grab his wrists, your eyes wide and pleading. “No, don’t!” you gasp, as if what you’re about to say is of utmost importance. “I really like those glasses,” you pant.

He pauses, his confusion almost comical.

“I think they’re better than Zayne’s,” you add with a sly smile, exhaling deeply.

Caleb’s lips twitch as he suppresses a grin. “You’re so greedy when you want something, aren’t you?” Without waiting for a reply, he slips two fingers into your mouth, his touch teasing and deliberate, a silent dare for you to defy him again.

The wet, suctioning sound of your lips wrapped around Caleb’s fingers is maddeningly erotic, a melody of your surrender and his control. His fingers press harder against your tongue, sending a jolt down your spine. You gag reflexively, but instead of pulling away, your hands shoot up to grip his wrists, holding him in place, determined not to cough them out. His fingers glide in and out in steady, rhythmic waves, teasing and deliberate, while your chest rises and falls with labored breaths. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you keep them locked on his lips.

Caleb’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips before his teeth catch the bottom one in a fierce bite. His eyes, dark with intent, linger on the way your cheeks hollow with every movement of his hand. It’s written all over his face: this is a prelude to what he really wants. He’d rather have your mouth working over his dick than his fingers.

With a low chuckle, he pulls his fingers free, leaving your lower lip glistening with saliva. He holds his hand up, watching the way the wetness glimmers under the dim light. “You really enjoy using yourself as your own lubricant, don’t you?” he says with a teasing laugh, his voice dripping with smug amusement.

“It’s natural,” you pant, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand.

Caleb shifts, rising onto his knees as he peels off his shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the coffee table. His toned torso gleams, and he snaps his fingers at you, motioning for you to sit up straight. You comply without hesitation, adjusting your posture as he towers over you.

With one knee between your legs and the other planted firmly on the couch, he removes his dog tag, dragging the cool chain across your face. “You know the rules,” he says, his grin wicked.

You pout, rolling your eyes. “I gave you that as a gift, and you’re always using it for your twisted games.”

He smirks. “Then get me another one.”

“No way. It’s one of a kind.” You slide your hands up his torso, fingers tracing every dip and ridge of his muscles. “There’s no duplicate. It’s yours and only yours,” you murmur, cupping his face. Finally, you clasp your wrists together in silent surrender, signaling you’re ready.

Caleb places the dog tag between his teeth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt and in one swift motion, it’s off, discarded to the side. You unclasp your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders as he deftly begins wrapping the chain around your wrists.

“You could use your evol this time,” you suggest, your voice sultry and playful.

His hands pause for a moment, his eyes focused on the chain. “Yeah,” he mutters, though his tone is uncertain. “Last time I tried that, I used it on the bed instead of you. Snapped the legs and bottom planks clean off.”

A smile escapes you, breaking the tension. “That was your fault.”

“Fair,” he admits with a mischievous grin, “but with the way you were screaming my name and begging for more, I got… distracted.” He pulls the chain taut around your wrists, his eyes locking with yours. The tightness isn’t just around your wrists—it’s in the air, a tension so thick it makes your heart race.

Before you can say anything, he grabs his shirt that he tossed aside earlier. Caleb moves behind the couch, you tilt your head back to catch a glimpse of him. He’s smiling, a wicked grin that makes your pulse race. He steps closer, and gently pushes your head forward. “Let’s try something new,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. The soft fabric of the shirt wraps around your eyes, plunging you into darkness.

Your heart stutters, a mix of excitement and apprehension swelling inside you. What does he have planned? Did you push him too far this time? The not knowing leaves you vulnerable, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Bound and blindfolded, you realize the gravity of your position. Your hands are useless, your sight is gone, and as the shirt muffles the sounds around you, you feel the loss of another sense creeping in. You’re at his mercy, and the uncertainty is both thrilling and maddening.

You strain your ears, desperate for any clue to his movements. The soft padding of his footsteps echoes faintly, but you can’t discern their direction. Is he in front of you? Behind you? The muffled noise seems to come from everywhere and nowhere. You sit still, biting your lip to stifle a nervous breath.

Then, the sound sharpens—familiar and unmistakable. His shoes hit the floor with a soft thud. Your breath hitches as the faint jingle of his belt buckle follows, the metallic clink chilling you to the core. The slow, deliberate rasp of his zipper being pulled down comes next, and you swallow hard. You hear the rustling of fabric sliding against his skin before the faint sound of his pants hitting the floor.

Your pulse pounds in your ears. Caleb is naked. And you are completely unaware of where he is. From which angle he’ll approach, you have no idea. The suspense builds with every passing second, your senses heightened as your imagination runs wild. Every breath, every rustle of fabric, every shift in the air sends a jolt of anticipation through you.

In an instant, you’re pulled, your body shifting swiftly before you can even process it. You find yourself lying awkwardly on the couch, your legs raised high, teetering off balance. The soft plop of your shoes hitting the floor fills the room, and then his hands are on you—strong, purposeful. His touch slides down your calves, lingering at your thighs before settling firmly. It’s clear now—your legs are on his shoulders.

The faint sound of your belt unbuckling breaks through the haze of anticipation, followed by the slow, deliberate unbuttoning of your pants. You feel the cool air on your skin as he slides them down with excruciating patience, taking your underwear with them. The quiet thud of your discarded clothes hitting the ground feels final, leaving you bare and exposed.

Caleb lowers your legs gently, guiding you upward. His hand rests on your back, firm yet careful, directing you as you take a few hesitant steps. The walk is short, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he presses your back forward, bending your upper body over the armrest of the couch. Your belly rests against the soft fabric as he positions you, spreading your legs apart just enough to make you feel vulnerable, your feet planted firmly on the ground.

His hands are warm as they settle on your lower back, and then you feel it—the slow, teasing slide of him rubbing against you. The head of his dick brushes your clit with deliberate precision, sending sparks of heat shooting through you. A silent moan escapes your lips as he continues the agonizing tease, his movements designed to drive you to the edge of madness.

Caleb leans in, his breath ghosting over your ear. “As of now,” he whispers, his voice low and dripping with desire, “I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who knows how fast your heart is going.” With no warning, he thrusts into you, forcing a gasp from your lips.

“Nngh… Caleb…” you moan, your voice trembling.

His rhythm is relentless from the start, his hips driving into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Each thrust pulls a sound from you, your bound hands trapped beneath your chest as the chain lightly grazes your skin, heightening every sensation.

“Haah… fuck,” Caleb groans, his voice rough with pleasure. “Do you even know… ha… how possessive I can get?”

You’re silent, unable to form words as your face presses into the couch, your teeth biting down on the fabric in an attempt to stifle your cries.

“And to… ahh, fuck,” he chuckles darkly, his voice strained. “To edge me on like that… mmhn… you must like—” His words are cut off by his guttural moan as his body shudders.

Leaning forward, his teeth sink into your shoulder, the sharp sensation blending with the intensity of his thrusts. His hips angle upward now, hitting a spot that sends you spiraling, his warm breath fanning across your skin.

“Mmmh, Caleb…” is all you can manage, your voice raw and pleading as he consumes every part of you.

Caleb shifts his weight, pulling back just long enough to stand upright. With fluidity and strength, he flips you onto your back. The movement leaves you momentarily breathless, your body pliant beneath his control. He raises one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers gripping your calf with a possessive firmness. The other leg, he adjusts carefully, ensuring your foot rests securely on the armrest, but not before gently pushing it outward, spreading you even wider for him.

His breathing is labored now, audible and heavy, and though you can’t see him clearly, you can imagine the sight of his chest. Broad, muscular, and glistening with sweat, rising and falling with each ragged inhale. It’s a sight that would’ve stolen your breath, if it hadn’t already been taken by the moment.

One of his arms snakes around the leg draped over his shoulder, locking it in place with a grip that’s equal parts firm and tender. His other hand anchors itself on your hip, steadying you as he positions himself. And then he begins again.

The first thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, his rhythm rough yet calculated, each movement hitting the spot that leaves you trembling. His hips snap forward with a force that feels primal, yet controlled, a deliberate effort to draw out every sound, every reaction from you. You’re soaked, your arousal slick against him. The lewd sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, every thrust accompanied by the wet squelch of your fluids mixing. It’s intoxicating.

He leans in slightly, his lips hovering close, his voice dropping to a low, husky whisper as he murmurs your name. The way he says it feels reverent, like a prayer or a plea, and it makes your chest tighten.

“Yeah…” you breathe, your voice soft and airy, surrendering to the moment.

“Let me be…” he pauses, “…let me be the only one… to make your heart—” His voice falters, replaced by a sensual chuckle, deep and rough. “God, let me be the only one to make your heart race like this.”

“Mhm…” your reply comes out sweet but low, carried on a sigh. “Okay…”

The air between you and Caleb is electric, every touch igniting sparks that threaten to burn you from the inside out. With your leg still firm on the armrest, you use it to push your body to the other side, forcing Caleb to adjust. As your leg drops off his shoulder, he moves instinctively, following your silent invitation to walk around the couch.

Before you can process his next move, he’s sitting in front of you, pulling you up with ease until you’re perched on his lap. His hands are warm and firm, one gripping his dick as he guides himself back inside you, the other trailing up your back in a slow, deliberate motion. His fingers rake through your hair, sending shivers down your spine, before tangling and tugging gently but possessively. The motion tilts your head back, exposing the curve of your neck to him.

His lips hover there, a breath away from your skin, teasing, promising. You can feel the heat of his desire, the way his breathing deepens as he restrains himself from biting down.

“Mine,” he breathes, his voice thick and husky.

“Yours,” you moan in response, your voice trembling, “always yours.”

The words seem to fuel him further. He releases your hair and leans back into the sofa, his strong frame supporting you effortlessly. You stay balanced on your toes, knees bent, riding him with an aching, deliberate rhythm. His hands grip your waist tightly, guiding you, pulling you down harder onto him as your hips sway back and forth.

He curses your name, his voice dripping with raw hunger.

“Just like that…” he groans.

Your knees finally give out, and you collapse forward, your body trembling. Though your blindfold keeps you from seeing him, you can feel his presence—his lips so close to yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with your own. You bite your lip, a soft laugh escaping through a moan. With your bound hands, you fumble to touch his face, brushing against the frames of the glasses he kept on.

Your frustrated laugh makes him grin, and before you know it, he’s shifting you both, rolling you onto your side. Spooning you, Caleb pulls your top leg back, hooking it around his own. His arm snakes beneath you, gripping your neck gently but firmly, while his other hand finds your bound wrists. You feel his fingers slide beneath the chain binding them, his touch deliberate.

“If I take this off…” he murmurs, his hips pressing forward as he thrusts deeper, making you gasp. “You have to promise to keep the blindfold on. Got that?”

“Okay…” you manage to moan.

“That’s a good girl,” he groans, his laugh dark and low. With a swift pull, the chain loosens, and your hands are free. Before you can react, he places the dog tag in your mouth. “Here, bite this,” he commands, his lips brushing your ear as his tongue flicks against the sensitive skin behind it.

His pace picks up again, rough and insistent, each movement sending waves of heat through your body. His hand on your neck tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that he’s in control.

His other hand moves to your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his grip leaving no doubt about how much he wants you.

Desperate to feel closer, you swing your now-free hand behind you, finding his face and pulling him down toward you.

“C-Caleb…” you choke out, his name a breathless plea.

“That’s it,” he chuckles against your skin, his teeth grazing your shoulder before biting down softly. “Say my name. Let me be the only name you call.”

His words are a command and a prayer, each syllable dripping with possession. He presses into you harder, his teeth grazing your skin again, his groans mingling with your moans.

The tension between you and Caleb is palpable, every motion from him driving you further into a realm where pleasure and desperation intertwine. His grip on your neck tightens, stealing your breath in the most intoxicating way, your vision blurring with unshed tears as your body reacts to his overwhelming dominance.

Your voice, broken and raw, escapes in a gagged gasp. “C-Caleb…” The dog tag tumbles from your lips, clinking faintly as it hits the surface below.

Without warning, he flips you onto your stomach. You barely have a moment to adjust before he pulls your hips upward, your breasts pressing into the couch. His thrusts are erratic, primal, and you claw at the armrest, arching your back deeply to meet him. His hand finds your hair, tugging harshly, while his other grips your waist with a force that leaves bruising promises. His silence, punctuated only by rough breaths and muffled grunts, speaks volumes.

You’ve witnessed this before—when his composure cracks and his evol flares, chaos is inevitable. Around you, the room trembles with his lack of control. Items crash to the floor, shattering against the walls. You gasp, instinctively reaching for the blindfold to tear it off, but Caleb’s hand leaves your hair and slams your wrist to the armrest.

“What did you promise?” he growls, his voice venomous yet dripping with that intoxicating edge of command. His fingers lace with yours, pinning your hand firmly.

His pace quickens, his movements losing all semblance of rhythm. You’re caught between gasping for air and choking on moans that feel too loud, too needy. Your head drops forward, but your body remains arched, submitting entirely to the chaos you ignited.

The destruction crescendos until it feels like the entire room collapses in a cacophony of falling objects and Caleb’s unrelenting presence. Then, it stops. Abruptly. Caleb pulls out and steps away, leaving you trembling, breathless, and straining to track his movements through the sound of his footsteps.

“Flip over,” he commands, his tone brooking no argument. You comply, lying on your back, your chest heaving.

He spreads your legs, his touch suddenly gentle as his fingers trace your most sensitive places. He slides them inside you, teasing, coaxing moans from your lips. It’s a stark contrast to his earlier ferocity, and it leaves you spinning.

Then you feel it—a cold, slightly heavy object placed on your chest. It vibrates softly, confusing you until you catch the faint ringing sound. A phone.

Your hand instinctively moves to grab it, but before you can pull your blindfold down to see who he’s calling, Caleb snatches the device away.

“Tch. You’re just not listening today, are you?” His voice carries a mix of irritation and amusement. “Invite him to dinner,” he says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Confusion floods you. Who? But then the line connects, and you hear Zayne’s voice on the other end.

“Hello?” Zayne asks, his voice tinged with polite concern.

Your heart skips a beat as Caleb presses the phone to your ear and aligns himself with you once more, thrusting in with devastating precision. Your hand flies to your mouth, desperately trying to stifle the moan threatening to spill out.

“Zayne!” you yelp, your voice trembling. “W-would you like to… haaa… join Caleb and I for…” You trail off, unable to finish as Caleb’s pace intensifies.

There’s a pause on the other end. “I’ve got work to do, unfortunately,” Zayne replies, his tone shifting slightly, as if he’s picking up on something amiss. “Are you alright? You sound… in pain.”

“I’m okay,” you manage, your voice strained. “You sure… about dinner?”

Caleb chuckles softly, low enough that only you can hear, and it makes your cheeks burn.

“I’m sure,” Zayne says, his tone now skeptical. “Is it your heart? Is that what’s hurting?”

“What?” you gasp, your voice cracking.

“Is it your heart that’s hurting?” Zayne repeats, his voice calm but laced with something knowing.

“No! Of course… ngh… not,” you insist, struggling to keep your composure.

“Hm…” Zayne hums, his voice dropping as if the realization has hit. “Take care of yourself. Doctor’s orders.”

“I will. You too… and… haaa… doctors shouldn’t be skipping meals…” you add quickly, finishing in a rush.

Caleb pulls the phone from your ear, grinning like a cat who’s cornered his prey. “Yeah, the busiest man should at least join us for dinner every once in a while,” he says, his tone laced with taunting competitiveness.

“Hang up!” you insist, your voice tinged with panic.

Caleb smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, but he obliges, ending the call. He pulls off your blindfold, his mischievous gaze locks onto yours, his dominance and jealousy radiating all around you.

You pull Caleb closer, your legs instinctively wrapping tighter around his waist as his hips snap forward, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your hands push his glasses up, and you kiss him—a gentle initiation that Caleb quickly turns hungry. His lips capture yours, biting softly at your lower lip, his kisses messy and demanding, speaking a language of unspoken need. Your arms wrap around his neck, nails digging into his back as your laughter mingles with soft moans, the sound a harmony of shared desire.

“Let me see,” you sigh, pulling away just enough to speak.

Caleb tilts his body slightly, granting you a glimpse of him sinking into you, his movements hypnotic. The sight drives you to arch your back, pressing your body further into his, making him reach deeper. You gasp, throwing your head back before kissing him again, your lips clinging to his as though he’s the air you need to breathe.

“Mine,” Caleb murmurs between kisses, your name falling from his lips like a vow. The rawness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

His rhythm grows relentless, each thrust drawing you closer to your peak. The pressure of his evol pins you firmly against the couch, intensifying every sensation.

“Caleb…” you whimper, your voice breaking, “I’m gonna come…”

“Hold on,” he growls, his voice strained and desperate, as though battling his limits.

“I… I can’t.”

The confession tears through the haze of pleasure, but it only drives him faster, his movements erratic and unrestrained. Your body tightens around him, and his voice grows hoarse as he whispers your name like a prayer.

The tension snaps, pleasure rushing through you in waves, your cries mingling with Caleb’s as he follows. The room shakes under the force of his evol—objects crashing and scattering as the world seems to respond to his intensity.

Breathless, you both collapse into the quiet aftermath, the weight of gravity settling once more.

“Fuck…” you both exhale in unison, voices harmonizing as you lie tangled together, your heartbeats racing in sync.

Caleb’s glasses slip off his face, landing carelessly beside you as he collapses onto your body, his weight pressing you into the couch. His breath is warm against your skin, uneven but soothing. With a gentle shift, he maneuvers you so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting on his chest.

You listen to the steady rhythm beneath your ear, his heart racing but calm in its consistency. “Your heart’s going fast,” you murmur, a hint of amusement in your tone.

“That’s because of you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with sincerity. He reaches for the dog tag nestled between you both, pulling it free as he tilts his head down to kiss the top of yours. “I want to be the only one whose heart you make beat like this,” he confesses, his words a vow and a plea all at once.

“You’re impossible,” you tease, your fingers idly tracing around his chest, circling his nipple in lazy patterns.

He catches your hand, his eyes falling to the blistered marks along your skin. His expression tightens with guilt as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing each mark tenderly, as though his touch could erase them. “I’ve got to stop using this to bind you,” he whispers, his voice laced with regret.

“It’s fine,” you assure him, your breath finally steady. Sitting up, you straddle him, bending down to kiss him softly. His hands rise to cradle your face, his touch gentle, reverent. Your foreheads touch, the dominant air that usually surrounds him dissipating completely.

For a moment, it’s just you and him, hearts beating as one, and the world fades away.

You rest your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as the quiet settles between you. His hands stay on your face, thumbs brushing softly against your cheeks, as if grounding himself in your presence. “Stay like this,” he whispers, the words almost inaudible but weighted with meaning. You nod, your lips curving into a small smile, and close your eyes. In this moment, there’s no jealousy, no chaos—just the warmth of his embrace and the unspoken promise of always coming back to each other.

[wonderjanga]

Hiiii, how are you?

I'm nervous here, it's the first time I've made an Ask here on Tumblr-

Aaaanyway, I wanted to give you an idea, I couldn't find it, but I've seen a post where Billy goes deaf after being struck by lightning

The post doesn't show it, and I can't think and come up with ideas to write it myself, but I would love to see what his interactions and relationships with the civilians and heroes would be like as a deaf person.

So, if you see this and want to write a post based on it, please tag me chum, xoxo.

— justv0id, at your pleasure :D

I’m good! I haven’t been posting as much recently because I’ve suddenly grown a little busy but other than that, I’m a-okay! I just need to work out a few kinks in my personal life and I should be back to the two posts a day schedule. ALSO, anyone is free to ask questions there’s no need to be nervous!

Anyways…

Marvel: *minding his business*

Tourist: “Captain Marvel? Could you take a photo with me?”

Marvel: *obviously doesn’t hear him because he’s deaf*

Tourist: “Captain?”

Marvel: *still doesn’t hear him*

Tourist: “If you don’t want to take a photo with me, you can just say so.” *starting to sound a little mad*

Marvel: *again, doesn’t hear him*

Tourist: “Dude, stop ignoring me-”

Random Fawcitizen: *runs up and socks the stuffing out of them*

All Fawcitizens are a little a lot protective of Cap. Some people unfortunately have to experience this first have.

or

Martian Manhunter(MM), Miss Martian, and Marvel: *all standing in the circle, staring at each other intensely*

Random Civilian: What are they doing…?

Meanwhile… In the Telepathy Link…

Marvel: “That’s what I was saying! That show is garbage!”

Miss Martian: “It is not! It’s literally amazing!”

MM: “M’gann… Please do not lie. At least not to the both of our faces.”

or

Reporters: *hounding him and asking a bunch of questions*

Marvel: *just smiles, gives a little head nod before flying off*

Ladies: “He’s so dreamy and mysterious!”

Marvel: *actually left because he knew that if he were to say a single word to answer any of their questions, he’d probably shatter all their eardrums because he has little to no volume control*

or

Batman: *signing to him*

Marvel: *nodding along*

Batman: *pleased that he found a way to communicate with Marvel*

Marvel: *has no idea what he’s saying and just think he’s throwing up gang signs* (“You know what? You go, man.” Billy thinks to himself for the 50 millionth time)

I’d also like to think this vid would perfectly encapsulate a not deaf Junior and a deaf Marvel.

[chanranghaeys]

😭

i've been putting off reblogging this because 1) i was busy AS A WORKING GIRLIE, 2) i was busy as a working girlie wishing for CHAN AS MY WORK SPOUSE, and 3) svt con weekend in my country haha

I'm Annotating my going insane because I Want To (below the cut~)

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting your afternoon coffee with Mr. Program Assistant?” 

i hate how kae clocked me for this as a nonprofit programs girlie hate it hate it hate it LOVE IT SO MUCH I COULD CRY. chan would be such a good programs person if he worked hard on it i can See it.

He doesn’t respond verbally, just smiles at you in that way that lights up a whole room. It’s the type of grin that has you forgetting just how bad of a morning you had; you’d lose yourself in it if weren’t for the ominous presence of Vernon a couple of seats down.

wow. wow. just imagine arriving to THIS at the office in the morning. i'd faint on the spot. or just outright kiss him—office etiquette be damned.

Vernon lets out a huff of laughter at Seungkwan’s side. “I’ll bet a dollar that it’s Lee Chan,” says Vernon. Seungkwan responds with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a given.” 

i've always maintained that i'd be so good friends with the maknae line irl as a forever svt maknae line truther. I Love Them.

It’s hard not to laugh when Chan is looking at you like that.

LIKE WHAT CHAN?? LIKE WHAT??

“Hey, Lee Chan, where’s your work wife?” Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s in a meeting with finance,” he answers without even looking up from his keyboard. 

i swear to have someone just know intimate details like this about you god i swear how was this not a giveaway???

“Well, tell her that we hope she gets better soon,” the CEO says coolly. A corner of her lip is upturned, like she’s finding this entire interaction a little too amusing.

sorry it's so funny to me that the ceo seems privy to these things seemingly evident in these little actions but of course she won't let anyone know about it my god it's so accurate imo

And, alright, fine. Maybe your knees knock into each other more often than not. Maybe Chan puts a hand over your ear whenever he wants to point something out, and maybe you lean in just a little more than necessary. 

these small details gaaaahh me me me it's me i would so do this

“Of course it’s important!” Chan’s always been a little louder when he’s drunk, so his voice raises an octave or two.

CHAN IS ALSO ME I SWEAR

But the moment the corner has been rounded, Chan is sagging against your side like he’s wanted to the entire night. “Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend sighs. “I didn’t think I’d survive another minute without touching you.”

/kinilig/ 🫠

You’re not sure if he’s entirely right— you know of Vernon’s whole iPhone note, after all— but you’re willing to indulge your boyfriend if it makes him happy.  “Yeah,” you concede. “They don’t know a thing.” 

something about vernon being the one to list all of this down makes me feel like he's doing this in tandem with seungkwan. or maybe a bet to see who will come up with a list first. idk. it's fun to imagine really.

this whole fic made me so warm inside my little fuzzy and fluffy heart. thanks kae for this wonderful little gift huhu bless u forever ✨

the way of the work husband 📋 chan x reader.

going back to work after the holidays sucks, but at least you've got your 'work husband' lee chan to get you through it.

★ office worker!chan x f!reader. ★ word count: 1.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: office, alternate universe: co-workers, fluff/romance. vernon is a menace (affectionately). not proofread. ★ footnotes: been itching to write chan lately and this was the result. dedicating this to my favorite corporate girlie!dinonara @chanranghaeys, who i have been threatening a chan fic with for a little over a week now ෆ sana all may lee chan sa office. 😔 + a special shoutout to @diamonddaze01 for educating me on the how work spouses operate. 🙏

“Is Lee Chan, like, your work husband or something?” 

The look on Vernon’s face is perfectly innocent, but his arched eyebrow gives some indication of just how amused he is. You shoot him a scathing glare before turning back to your work-sanctioned laptop. 

You don’t answer Vernon’s question. Not at first, anyway. Instead, you opt to wryly ask, “Why do you always have to use his full government name whenever you’re talking about him?” 

“Eh. Just ‘Chan’ is too short,” Vernon responds noncommittally. He should be focusing on the grant that he has to write, but he seems intent on quizzing you on your relationship with the company’s newest program assistant. 

Vernon leans a little further into his computer chair. He’s always been a pretty amicable seatmate; he just liked to poke the bear every so often. 

“So?” he prompts. “Are you and Lee Chan… you know.” 

When Vernon makes a vague, crude gesture with his hands, you groan out loud. “Don’t make it weird,” you snap. “And no. Chan and I are just friends, asswipe.”

“But you guys display peak work spouse behavior.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be grant writing?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting your afternoon coffee with Mr. Program Assistant?” 

Vernon’s rebuttal has you glancing at the digital clock on your desk. Shit. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you say as you grab your wallet and get to your feet. You hate to admit it, but Vernon is right. You’ve started dedicating your fifteen-minute afternoon breaks to cafeteria trips with Chan. 

All in the name of friendship, you insist.

“‘Course it doesn’t,” Vernon sing-songs. Just when you think he’s done, he throws in a final jab. 

“I’ll have an itemized list of my observations,” he calls after your retreating back. “Just you wait!” 

You don’t turn around to dignify Vernon’s taunt with a response. Instead, you flip him off over your shoulder as you contemplate what coffee to get with Chan today.

Rarely are you late to work. Some mornings are just harrowing, littered with minor inconveniences like your alarm not going off or the bus making one too many stops. 

When you finally make it to the office, you can already imagine the CEO’s backhand comment about punctuality. Something like ‘early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable,’ probably. 

That’s why you feel an immense pang of relief when you notice a vacant seat near the back of the room, one that you undoubtedly know is yours. 

You make your way to the chair as discreetly as you can. The bag atop it is taken off the moment that you arrive, and you flash an appreciative grin at the one who made it possible. 

Chan— who is already shifting his bag onto his lap— gives you an exaggerated wink in return. 

You mouth a wordless ‘thank you’ at him. He doesn’t respond verbally, just smiles at you in that way that lights up a whole room. It’s the type of grin that has you forgetting just how bad of a morning you had; you’d lose yourself in it if weren’t for the ominous presence of Vernon a couple of seats down.

The meeting grabs your attention soon enough, but not before you notice Vernon inconspicuously typing something into his phone. 

☑ You always sit next to each other at meetings

“Who’re you texting?” 

“Hm?” 

“Hellooo! Pay attention to me!” 

There’s a guilty expression on your face as you finally glance up at Seungkwan. “Sorry,” you say meekly. “What were you asking?” 

Vernon lets out a huff of laughter at Seungkwan’s side. “I’ll bet a dollar that it’s Lee Chan,” says Vernon. 

Seungkwan responds with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a given.” 

“Yah,” you begin to protest, ready to justify the way you’ve only been half-present throughout your entire lunch break. 

Your attempt falls flat when your phone pings, and the screen lights up. 

One (1) new text from Channie. 🦖LOLOL I have the perfect reel for this!! Wait a minute~~ 💖💙

Seungkwan scoffs. Vernon snickers. 

Your eye twitches, and you shoot back a text underneath the table in a bid to avoid your friends’ teasing. 

☑ You message each other all day long

It’s hard not to laugh when Chan is looking at you like that. 

Despite the fact that there’s a whole brainstorming session going on— preparation for the company’s next fundraising event— the two of you can’t help your silent communication. 

Especially when Soonyoung starts running his mouth about the fundraiser potentially being tiger-themed. 

One glance is all it takes. Chan’s lips are drawn into a thin line, and you know he’s also trying his darndest not to laugh. It’s a mammoth effort to hold back yourself, but you manage— not wanting to suffer from your eccentric boss’ line of questioning. 

It’s all free game once the session ends, though. 

You make a beeline for Chan. He takes one look at your quirked lip before jerking his head towards the door, urging the two of you to have this discussion somewhere you won’t be lynched.

Still, you and Chan can barely resist your peals of laughter as you leave the meeting room with your heads bowed together. Vernon watches with bemusement as the two of you trade incoherent mumblings about Tigger and Pompompurin. 

Not that Vernon has any idea what those have to do with anything. 

☑ You exchange knowing glances from across the room ☑ You share inside jokes about work and life

“Hey, Lee Chan, where’s your work wife?” 

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s in a meeting with finance,” he answers without even looking up from his keyboard. 

A corner of Vernon’s lip twitches upward. Aha. 

Chan seems to pick up on Vernon’s smug silence. The younger boy’s head snaps up, his expression quickly becoming guarded. “Not my work wife,” Chan sputters. “Just— I knew where she was, okay?” 

“Riiight.” 

There’s a redness in the tips of Chan’s ears as he goes back to the Google Doc he’d been slaving away on. Vernon doesn’t say anything more, but he does feign like he’s texting someone instead of adding to his ever-growing list.

☑ Your other colleagues wonder where the other’s at when you’re not together

It’s a bit of an epilogue in its own right, how Chan is the one to know why you’re out for the morning.

The CEO had asked it mostly as a rhetorical question— has anyone seen her?— but Chan’s easy answer has the meeting coming to a stuttering halt. 

“She got stuck at her dentist’s appointment,” he says. 

Several pairs of eyes turn to Chan. The look on his face is comically caught.

He fumbles for his phone and waves it around awkwardly. “We were texting,” he adds hastily. “That’s why I know.” 

How that was supposed to help Chan’s case, Vernon has no idea. 

“Well, tell her that we hope she gets better soon,” the CEO says coolly. A corner of her lip is upturned, like she’s finding this entire interaction a little too amusing. 

Chan manages a mumbled “Will do.” 

The meeting pushes through. Vernon watches Chan from the corner of his eye. Aside from looking absolutely mortified, there’s just a bit of dullness to the latter’s demeanor. A slower uptake, a dimmer grin. 

Gee, Vernon muses as he types away on his laptop. Wonder why. 

☑ You’re kind of bummed when they’re out of office ☑ You cover for each other when one is MIA

Vernon’s running list is a fun little gig, but it all comes to head on the evening of the company’s monthly night out.

The table at the speakeasy is full of boisterous laughter and greasy finger food. Everyone’s in high spirits for the upcoming weekend, and Vernon has to hold back on teasing those who he thinks are having just a little too much fun. 

You and Chan have spent much of the evening acting like you’re in your own world. Sure, you’re not touching each other— this is technically a work event, after all— but you’ve shared laughter and whispers throughout the night that nobody else is privy to. 

And, alright, fine. Maybe your knees knock into each other more often than not. Maybe Chan puts a hand over your ear whenever he wants to point something out, and maybe you lean in just a little more than necessary. 

It’s obvious to anybody with two eyes that you two are fond of each other. That much is certain.

That’s what gives Vernon the boost of confidence to play wingman by the end of the night. 

“You know,” he says coolly as your group spills out onto the sidewalk. “I think the two of you live in the same neighborhood.” 

What Vernon is scheming is plain as day to you. You narrow your eyes at him, but he’s undeterred. He only smiles at you and Chan like the menace that he is. 

Chan, for his part, raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. He glances at you with a quizzical expression. 

“You’ve never mentioned that.” He raises his hand to his chest, as if feigning hurt at being kept in the dark. 

A snort of laughter escapes you. “Didn’t feel like it was particularly important information,” you say dryly. 

“Of course it’s important!” Chan’s always been a little louder when he’s drunk, so his voice raises an octave or two. “‘Cause that means we can carpool together, or, like, y’know—” 

Vernon interrupts with a sage, “You can probably book the same cab for tonight, actually. Make it a double stop.” 

Chan’s face lights up. “Great idea, man!” 

Before you can protest, Chan is already whipping out his phone to pull up his ride-hailing app. This is not a battle that you’re going to win. 

All the while, Vernon grins triumphantly. 

☑ You go home together after happy hour 

“Can we—” 

“Shhh. No, not yet.” 

“But nobody’s looking!”

“Wait until we’ve rounded the corner, idiot—” 

And so he does. 

But the moment the corner has been rounded, Chan is sagging against your side like he’s wanted to the entire night. “Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend sighs. “I didn’t think I’d survive another minute without touching you.” 

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. The feeling is mutual, though, so you reach out to rest your hand on his knee.

“Commendable self-control tonight,” you note. “All the whispering was a little too obvious, though.” 

Chan huffs in protest, but the sound loses its edge as he cuddles up to you in the back of the cab. “No one suspects us. It’s just Vernon,” he complains. 

“And Seungkwan,” you say. “And Jeonghan, and Minghao, and Wonwoo—” 

Your boyfriend gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter.” His hand rests on top of yours, just barely resisting the urge to intertwine your fingers. “They don’t know a thing about us, sweets.” 

The smile threatening to fill your face finally breaks. When you laugh, your shoulders shake against Chan’s body. You’re not sure if he’s entirely right— you know of Vernon’s whole iPhone note, after all— but you’re willing to indulge your boyfriend if it makes him happy. 

“Yeah,” you concede. “They don’t know a thing.” 

[hood-ex]

Hello! I’m a bit of a lurker, but I had a question for a friend and I’m not sure if you’re able to answer, but you were the first to come to mind.

As someone who is not too familiar with the DC comics, what would be issues, volumes, etc. to read for a newbie wanting to delve into and highlight Dick & Damian’s relationship? My friend knows about their general stories (ie been watching the DCAMU and DCAU) but want to read more from their comic sources.

I’ve not been able to help them, but if you know of good recommendations (since I know you’re invested in Dick Grayson’s story very well) or can point me to others who’d be able to help, I’d appreciate it!

(I know comics are very convoluted with timelines and reboots and writers, but any recs would be great! Thanks and have a great day/night!)

Sorry this took me forever, but I've finally gathered the majority of Dick and Damian content. Please note that some stuff listed may be entire stories involving Dick and Damian, some may just have a few scenes between them, and some may even just have one scene that I felt highlighted their relationship in some way. I'm the type of person who's a freak about every Dick and Damian interaction though, so even the smallest of things can feel important to me personally lmao.

There are ofc more Dick and Damian interactions than this, I just didn't add them because I either felt they weren't necessary to share or that some of the writing was too bleh.

Also, I did have a guide to help me catch the dickbats era moments, but everything after dickbats came directly from my brain, so there's certainly a possibility I missed something, but I did try my best to remember the most important interactions.

Anywho, hope this is somewhat helpful!

Post-Crisis Era

Nightwing Vol. 2 #138 (Dick's first time meeting Damian)

Batman: Battle for the Cowl

Batman #687

Red Robin #1 (there are multiple other Dick and Damian interactions in Red Robin such as #13-15... check them out if you want. I'm adding #1 because Dick claims Damian as his responsibility)

Batman and Robin (from 2009) #1-26

Batman #688

Batman: Streets of Gotham

Batman Annual #27 continued in Detective Comics Annual #11

Batgirl (Vol. 3) #5-7

Batman #700 is a bit… difficult. It’s an anniversary issue that goes into the legacy of Batman and Robin. It jumps from past, present, and future. It includes a possible future of Damian becoming Batman. So. It’s not a necessary read, but I do like Dick and Damian’s scenes in it. Just tell your friend to read the “Today” section of the comic.

Blackest Night: Batman #1-3 (These are tie-in issues of a larger event called Blackest Night. Read Blackest Night and other tie-ins related to it if you need more context)

Batman #695-697

DCU Halloween Special 2010

Superman/Batman #77

Batman #703

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home - Batman and Robin

Batman: The Return

Batman #704-706

Teen Titans (Vol. 3) #89 and #92

Batman: Gates of Gotham

N52

Batman and Robin (Vol. 2) #10-12 for context + some Dick and Damian interactions. Moment between Dick and Damian at the end of #12 is the real reason I’m adding this.

Will need to read comics collected under the “Death of the Family” event to understand the full context. For Nightwing specifically, read Nightwing (Vol. 3) #15-16. Read #17 for the actual Dick and Damian interaction.

Will need to read Batman Incorporated (Vol. 2) for context. Dick and Damian interaction/Damian’s death in Batman Incorporated #8-9.

Nightwing (Vol. 3) #18 is Dick grieving Damian’s death.

Batman and Robin (Vol. 2) Annual #2

Robin: Son of Batman #1

Batman and Robin (Vol. 2) #33-37 for context, but the Dick moment I want to showcase is in #34. “You know how much Damian meant to me, Bruce…” (literally don’t read the rest unless you want to, that #34 moment is truly the only reason I’m adding this, and it's just Bruce and Dick talking about Damian btw, not an actual Dick and Damian moment)

Grayson #12 is an absolute must, it has one of the most iconic Dick and Damian interactions of all time. Will need to read the comics Forever Evil, Nightwing (Vol. 3) #30, and previous Grayson issues to understand the full context of the issue. Can just visit the issue for the Dick and Damian scene though obviously.

Rebirth and Beyond Era

Rebirth Nightwing #1 (note: this is a completely different comic from Nightwing (Vol. 4) #1-33, which is referred to as the Rebirth era of Nightwing). If you want to understand further context about this comic, you’ll have to read We Are Robin and the Robin War crossover event.

Nightwing (Vol. 4) #1, #4, #16-20 (very important Dick and Damian arc where Dick admits he wanted to adopt Damian), #29 (for context you’ll have to read the rest of Dark Nights Metal), #42-43 (each issue is a one-shot), Annual #2 (there’s enough info in this story to not need previous context), #110 (for context read the Beast World crossover event), #113 (they interact briefly, but I’m more so adding this because it shows Damian supporting Dick), #114.

Batman (Vol. 3) #16 (because Dick buys Damian a kid’s meal), #33-35

Detective Comics #1000 (collection of one-shots… go down to the story called “Batman’s Greatest Case” by Tom King. I suggest only looking at the very first Dick and Damian interaction from this story… the rest of the dialogue is… bad)

Robin (Vol. 3) #5 (further context can be found in Batman (Vol. 3) #77… and even further context for that storyline can be found starting in #75 as well as Detective Comics #1031-1033)

Batman: Urban Legends “The Murder Club” (story starts in #20 but Dick and Damian scenes are #21-23)

The Boy Wonder #1

[momolady]

The Orc & the Goblin

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𝐹𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝒪𝓇𝒸 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝒢𝑜𝒷𝓁𝒾𝓃

𝒫𝑜𝓁𝓎𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝓍 𝑀𝓊𝓉𝓊𝒶𝓁 𝒫𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓍 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓅𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓁 𝓍 𝒞𝑜𝓉𝓉𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓇𝑒

“You’d think we’d joke about this?” Morg laughed. 

“Well, yes?” Estelle’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Given their past interactions it made the most sense to her.

He playfully rubbed his hand up and down the back of Estelle’s thigh. “We’ve been planning this for months now.”

“And you had no idea,” Niet laughed as he looked up at Estelle from behind.

Estelle narrowed her eyes upon the goblin. She noticed the two of them had been coming to her shop more over the last couple of months, but had figured their adventures were keeping them close to Obresh. The orc, Morg, and goblin, Niet, had been frequent and beloved customers. Ever since Estelle’s sister and her husband Clain had gotten pregnant, Estelle had taken over the brunt of the blacksmith shop.

Estelle huffed, resting her elbows on his thick back, her arms crossed. “If you wanted a date or some sort of fling you could have just asked…” her gaze wandered to the side, avoiding Niet’s catlike grin.

“This isn’t about a fling,” Morg replied coolly. “We’re doing the reaping as intended. Or have you inhaled too much smoke to get our drift?”

“Both of you?” Estelle looked down at Niet who had a blushing smile on his face.

“You got it.” The handsome goblin laughed and flexed his arms. “I’d carry you myself, but I don’t want your knees to get scraped.”

Estelle had been fighting off the thought that this was a real reaping since the two appeared in her shop. She had been trying to work even while the reaping was going on just outside her door. A stubborn act to catch up on work, while also secretly hoping some tall, powerful orc would come inside, sweep her off her anvil, and carry her away. But that was silly, and she forced down the fantastical fairy tale of feet sweeping and such as she set on catching up on the work that needed to be done. 

She had always liked Morg and Niet, hell, she looked forward to their flirting sessions with her. The adventurers became a regular of the shop a long time ago. They’d bring in their various weapons, armors, etc, most of which they had gotten on their journeys. Because of them, Estelle had become quite proficient in fixing many new items. She looked forward to seeing the spoils of their conquests. While she would never admit it openly, their flirting and suave banter always had her swooning. 

Estelle’s heart began pounding. “Ya’ll are serious?” She wriggled a bit in Morg’s grip. “All that flirting and shit? I thought it was about getting discounts!”

Morg laughed and bounced Estelle upon his shoulder. His arm wrapped around her tighter, giving her a secure squeeze to let her know this was more than what her mind was making her think. “Oh sure, make us sound cheap. No, darling, ever since we both laid eyes on you, we knew exactly what we were doing with our words.”

Niet’s eyes were scanning Estelle’s face as she blushed more. “It’s not everyday you come across a girl you want to arm wrestle and make her moan into her pillow.”

Estelle had always fancied them. Beyond their stories and prizes, they were both quite handsome. Niet with his seductive smile and lovely hands, Morg with his strong arms and beautiful eyes. She was glad for the soot and heat that hid her blush every time they paid her a compliment. She always did a little happy dance when they came to her for a blacksmithing job. Her mind was racing and close to overflowing.

Estelle snapped out of it, pushing against Morg in one final attempt to get to the bottom of things. “Listen, I ain’t no wife!” 

Morg and Niet both laughed. “As if we want a wife,” Morg guffawed.

Niet  waved his hand for her to look at him. “We want you as a partner, Etselle. We don’t expect some cute little wife in our cute little house everyday. That’s not why we fell for you in the first place. If you ain’t noticed, we're not exactly the traditional type.”

Fell? Estelle’s heart pounded at the word. But she had to give it one last weak effort before she fully caved in. “Do you even have a home?” She huffed. “I thought ya’ll lived freely from campsite to campsite, rented bed to rented bed?”

“What do you think we’ve been doing in Obresh all this time? Flirting with you?” Morg’s hand gently swatted her rear then held it. “We’ve been building us a proper home.”

Estelle’s eyes nearly bugged from her head. Why did his hand have to feel so nice and perfect there? “You told me you’d rather be taken prisoner than settle somewhere!”

Niet snickered, the sexy smile appearing on his face. “We can change our minds. Besides, our other option besides incarceration was always affection.”

Estelle bit on her bottom lip, still trying to think her way out of this one. Why was she even trying to think her way out? Nerves? Worries? She had always wanted to be reaped, and this was the perfect situation too! She daydreamed about the two of them constantly. Lying in bed, exhausted from a long day, relaxed by a hot bath, they were always her first thought. Their strong bodies, callused hands, warm mouths. Oh! Any girl could get lost in the thought of what those two could do to her!

“Don’t be nervous, darling.” Morg’s voice was sweet and soft. “Niet and I are going to take great care of you. We may still adventure from time to time, but our lives are here now. We’re taking this very seriously.”

“Easy for you to say, you’ve had time to think about this. This is all new for me,” Estelle grumbled, pouting slightly. 

Niet smiled up at her. “And that is why the next few days are all about you.”

“They better be,” she huffed. “This is a lot for anyone to take in.”

Soon, the trail they were on ended, and Morg eventually sat Estelle down on the ground. The tall orc placed his hand around her eyes as she turned around. 

“We got some help building this place, but Niet and I pretty much did everything,” he whispered into her ear. He brushed her hair back, breathing onto her neck, which made her body prickle in excitement.

“Yeah, well, let's see it then,” Estelle said, trying to play off her nervousness.

Morg moved his hand away and Estelle blinked a few times against the light. She raised her hand over her eyes, watching as Niet and Morg stood before the door with its stone stairs and river stone archway.

Estelle stiffened, realizing the details and brickwork that went into the place. She had always talked about having such a house, she never realized anyone was listening.

“Should I carry you over the threshold?” Morg asked.

Estelle was still stunned by seeing her dream home right before her. “I was…you didn’t-” Morg swept her off her feet, carrying her inside as Niet held the door. 

Inside was a wide open room with various pelts, banners, and trophies on the wall. There were broken weapons, stolen weapons, and many items from Morg and Niet’s adventures. 

“Of course we expect you to add your own touch.” Niet flicked his fingers about the room. “But we did what we could with what we had.”

Estelle stepped down from Morg’s arms and looked around. Her breathing began to pick up, the tears were welling up. This had been just a dream for so long, an idea that she never fully expected to become reality. But also, Estelle realized how much she had been hoping for this.  She ducked her head so they wouldn’t see.

“What’s the matter?” Niet was first to her side, taking her hand.

“Darling, it’s okay.” Morg’s large hand rested upon her back.

It was a shock to Estelle that her reaction was crying at all. She let out a few sobs before trying to force them back. “I’m fine! It’s fine-” She raised her hand, cupping her hand over her mouth. “It’s a beautiful house.” She sniffled and raised her eyes. “I love it. Really.”

“It’s a lot to take in,” Niet said gently, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Why don’t you come sit down.” He led her down to the sofa where he sat beside her, stroking her hair and gently wiping her cheek while Morg went to fetch some water.

Estelle let out a sob tinged laugh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No worries.” Niet dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “You’re pretty when you cry.”

Estelle scoffed. “Am not!”

“I’ve seen many a beauty weep before, and trust me, I’ve seen the most stunning of people turn into hideous creatures when they cry. You, my love, look like nymphs when spring arrives. Fresh, new, pink, and dewy.” He kissed your hand, moving from your fingers towards your wrist.

You sniffled again. “Pink?”

He laughed again, turning your hand to kiss the center of your palm. “As a peony.” He kissed Estelle’s palm again, making her tingle from tip to toe.

Morg returned, carting a bucket of water. “I’ll fix you a cup.”

“Start some tea while you're at it. That spicy stuff we got in the market at the palace,” Niet instructed. “The little wooden box-”

“I know which one!” Morg snapped.

Estelle giggled, holding it back as Niet glanced her way. “We bicker like an old married couple. But that’s only because we are.” He leaned in closer to Estelle. “Don’t you want to be part of that?”

Blush was now replacing the redness caused by tears. “I always liked the way you two got along.” She rubbed at her cheek, checking her knuckles for what tears came away. “It was like everything was so easy between the two of you, light, gentle. Even when you both did bicker.”

Niet reached out, taking a lock of her hair and curling it around his long finger. “You should see us when we’re alone.” His tone sounded extremely suggestive.

Estelle’s eyes shifted away just enough for Niet to catch that her curiosity was piqued. Of course it was! As much as she daydreamed about them, of course she had imagined what the two did to one another.

“Have you thought about that?”

Fuck! He caught me! She thought, quickly averting her eyes.  

He was even closer now, a knowing smile painted across his face. “You can tell me.” He released her hair then took his hand and began petting her thigh.

Estelle was embarrassed, but only because she felt like a lech. This was a reaping though, right? These were to be her mates, right? Maybe being a lech would be a boon in this situation? Right?

“I have thought about it.” She responded as strongly as she could, leaning more towards Niet to assert her dominance. “ Maybe I’ve even thought about me…also…with it…” She became a little unsure towards the end, flicking her eyes away. She cleared her throat. “A girl does get ideas, you know? You don’t make it hard or anything.”

A chuckle escaped Niet’s lips, as did his tongue as it darted along his teeth. “Oh, I make it hard.” His lips were on her neck, kissing, breathing. “You’re going to have to tell us all about it. I’m certainly all ears.” His long, pointed ears twitched.

“Oh please, like you had no idea,” Estelle tried to play it off again, but her insides were melting and her loins were becoming dewey because of it. She was holding back a moan as his lips continued to tease. “You uhm…you always insinuated-” She was drifting.

“It’s fun to see who likes it and who doesn’t.” Niet nibbled on her earlobe and Estelle let out a squeal that turned her beet red instantly.

“What was that?” Morg laughed from the kitchen.

“All good, no need to worry,” Niet said teasingly. He tilted Estelle’s head up towards him, seeing her face was red and eyes glistening from old tears. “Right, Estelle?”

Morg set down the tea at that moment. “She was just crying and already you’re trying to seduce her.”

“Just trying to make her feel better.” Niet scowled Morg’s way.

Morg sat down, offering Estelle a warm cup. “This isn’t a heist or some job. This is a woman.” His usually gruff, deep voice was soft and smooth. “You can’t just go straight in for the kill. You have to set the mood, tend to her, show her she’s wanted and safe.” His arm wrapped around Estelle’s shoulders and smiled at her. “Don’t mind him, he’s excited, that’s all. We’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“Apparently.” Estelle was breathless as she took in the house again. “You did a good job at keeping it a secret.”

Morg chuckled. “An old friend of ours helped us out. Purchasing the land was easy at the very least.” His hand on Estelle’s shoulder was comforting. The two had never given her the impression they were anything to worry about. She always knew they were the trustworthy sort. 

Estelle took a sip of the tea, finding there was a sweet spice that tickled her tongue. “Oh! This is good!”

“A favorite of the Queen in Rakshasa country,” Niet chuckled. “I took it from her private stash.”

Her eyes widened as she lowered the cup. “Really?”

Morg scoffed. “It’s sold everywhere.” His arm tightened around Estelle, slipping to her waist. “Don’t let him trick you.”

It then became apparent that the two were competing over her! They both wanted to steal her away first. Niet’s charm had been winning, but now Morg’s warmth and closeness was winning her over.

“Enjoy the tea,” Morg seemed to read her thoughts. “We have all the time in the world.”

Niet nodded, but the look in his eyes was an annoyed eagerness.

“Thank you,” Estelle breathed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am very…” She sipped tea to distract herself. “It’s not like I am not interested.”

Morg’s brow raised. “And what interests you.”

Estelle would run out of tea soon that she could use to distract herself. “Well, everything I suppose.” 

“Everything she says,” Niet chuckled. “Why don’t you make a list and we’ll see what we can make happen. After all, we’re here to serve.”

Estelle bit upon the tip of her tongue as her thoughts crashed around like drunk birds in her skull. “A list you say?” She cleared her throat, trying to find the confidence she used to have before setting foot through that door. “Well-” It was building back up. Strength and resolve to see this through to the end. “You both want to reap me and provide for me. Well in all the basic terms that’s easy!”

There was a glimmer in both Morg and Niet’s eyes as her voice rose up and that same sharp, strong woman in the blacksmith shop stepped forward.

She slammed her hand to her chest. “If you want to be husbands to me in all senses of the word, then prove it. I know you have money and gain from your adventures. But what can I expect for my day to day life? Eh? Are you going to help me clean? Cook? Do you even know how to clean?”

There was a sudden worried expression from Niet but Morg had a bright smile.

“I’m not going to take on the brunt of you two’s labor on top of my own. And not only that! But what can I expect from our marital bed? I don’t want money there. I want to see what I can expect from the sheets. Both in their care and under them.” She said this with a stone cold resolve, but her heart was all flapping wings and spicy tea. 

“I tend to do most of the cooking,” Morg replied. “Neither of us are much for laundry, but we’re quick learners, I promise you that.”

Estelle nodded, confident again. “You better be. If we are to be partners as you say, we share the load.”

“And loads are made to be shared,” Niet said teasingly.

She cut her eyes at him, noticing a bulge had begun to become apparent in his pants. “Then if you do not cook or clean, Niet, what are you going to provide?”

His grin grew, showing his sharp teeth. “Do you want me to show you?”

Her head began spinning again, but she kept her posture strong and her arms crossed against her chest. “Of course!”

“You heard her,” Niet chuckled, standing up from the couch.

“I did. I did.” Morg rose as well. 

Estelle leaned back in the chair, arms crossed, maintaining an unimpressed expression. But inside she was unraveling, melting, creating a wet spot in her pants.

Join my Patreon as a FREE MEMBER and you can read the rest of this tale early as well as a ton more!

[antinousletmehit]

୨୧┇decided to make cute little moments of how Eurymachus and reader interacted when they were younger

୨୧┇CAME FROM APHRODITES GAMBLE SERIES‼️⚠️‼️

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Antinous adjusted the clasp on his cloak and knelt in front of Y/N, who stood stiffly, her wide eyes darting nervously at the bustling palace around them. She clutched the hem of his tunic like it was a lifeline. “Y/N,” Antinous said gently, prying her small hands off his clothes. “I need to leave for a little while. Just to speak with someone about our place here.”

Her grip tightened momentarily before she reluctantly let go. “How long?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not long,” he assured her, though his eyes flicked with uncertainty. “You’ll be fine. Eurymachus will look after you while I’m gone.”

At the mention of Eurymachus, she glanced at the tall, lanky man leaning against a pillar nearby. He gave her a lazy wave and a smirk, which only made her retreat closer to Antinous.

Antinous sighed, brushing her dark hair back from her face. “He’s fine, N/N. He’s my right hand man. If you trust me, you can trust him. Alright?”

She hesitated, biting her lip, but eventually nodded. “Okay…”

Antinous stood and gestured for Eurymachus to come over. “She’s in your care,” he said firmly. “Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eurymachus replied dismissively, waving Antinous off. “Go do your thing. She’s safe with me.”

Antinous shot one last reassuring look at her before walking away, disappearing into the crowd of suitors and servants.

She stood frozen, her hands clenched at her sides, as Eurymachus turned to her. He crouched slightly, meeting her nervous gaze. “So… uh… kid,” he started awkwardly. “What do you… do for fun? Dolls? Rocks? Stare at walls?”

She blinked up at him, unsure how to respond. “I… I don’t know…”

Eurymachus scratched the back of his neck. “Right. Cool. This is going great.” He straightened up, looking around as if searching for something to entertain her. “Okay, how about… oh! I know.” He pulled a flask from his belt and held it out to her. “You want some? It’s wine.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “I… I don’t think I’m supposed to drink that.”

Eurymachus raised a brow. “Why not? You’re scared of everyone here, right? This’ll help. Loosen you up.”

She shook her head rapidly, taking a step back. “A-Antinous says I’m still a kid!”

Eurymachus paused, blinking at her like he’d just realized her age. “Kid, huh? Right… kids can’t drink.” He tucked the flask away, muttering, “Antinous didn’t mention I’d be babysitting.”

She stared at him, still nervous but now slightly offended. “I’m not a baby.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Eurymachus said with a shrug. “You look like you’re about to pass out from fear.”

“I’m not scared!” she protested, though her trembling hands betrayed her.

Eurymachus sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, alright, fine. No wine. Want some bread or something? That’s a kid thing, right? Bread?”

She gave him a suspicious look but eventually nodded. “I like bread…”

“Great,” he said, gesturing for her to follow him. “Let’s go find some bread and not tell your brother I almost gave you wine.”

As they walked off, she kept a wary distance, still unsure about this strange man Antinous trusted. Eurymachus, meanwhile, was silently praying Antinous would come back soon—because babysitting was definitely not his area of expertise.

——

Y/N was sitting on a stone bench in the palace gardens, her legs swinging idly as she tried to focus on tying flowers into a chain. The day had been quiet, with Antinous off training and Eurymachus tasked—again—with keeping an eye on her. However, “keeping an eye” for Eurymachus typically meant finding ways to entertain himself, and today, that entertainment was his unsuspecting charge.

From behind a nearby hedge, Eurymachus crouched low, a mischievous grin on his face. He had been watching her hum softly to herself, completely unaware of his presence. Slowly, he picked up a dry twig and snapped it, the sharp crack echoing through the quiet garden.

She froze, her hands clutching the unfinished flower chain. “H-Hello?” she called out, her small voice trembling slightly.

Eurymachus smirked. Perfect. “Hello…” he drawled in a low, ghostly voice, staying hidden.

Her eyes darted around, her expression growing nervous. “Who’s there?”

Instead of answering, Eurymachus rustled the bushes dramatically, adding to the illusion of something lurking nearby.

“Antinous?” She whispered, her voice shaking now. She stood up, clutching the flowers like a shield. “Is that you? Eurymachus?”

Eurymachus waited until she turned her back toward him before suddenly jumping out with a loud “BOO!”

She screamed, stumbling back and dropping her flower chain. Her eyes were wide with terror as she stared at Eurymachus, who doubled over with laughter.

“That was priceless!” he managed to say between chuckles. “You should’ve seen your face! Absolutely legendary!”

But instead of laughing or yelling at him, her lips quivered, and big tears welled up in her eyes.

“Y-You’re mean!” she cried, her voice breaking as she buried her face in her hands.

Eurymachus immediately froze, his laughter dying in his throat. “Wait—wait, no, don’t cry!” he said, panic creeping into his tone. “It was just a joke! Come on, N/N, it wasn’t that scary!”

Pandora sniffled, wiping her face as the tears kept falling. “I-I thought it was a monster! A-And you’re laughing at me!”

Eurymachus groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, okay, I messed up. My bad. I’m sorry, alright?” He crouched down in front of her, his hands awkwardly hovering as if he wanted to comfort her but didn’t know how. She didn’t respond, still sniffling.

“Look, I’ll make it up to you,” he said quickly, his tone desperate. “You want some cake? We’ll go get cake. You want me to carry you to Antinous? I’ll do that too. Just… stop crying, alright?”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her tear-streaked face still full of betrayal. “You’re mean…”

“I know, I know,” Eurymachus said, sighing. “But I’m your brother’s idiot best friend, so you’re stuck with me. Can we call a truce?” He hesitated, then added, “And… I won’t scare you again. Promise.”

She sniffled one last time, crossing her arms. “Cake first.”

Eurymachus chuckled, relieved. “Cake it is. But don’t tell Antinous about this, alright? He’ll kill me.”

She glared at him but nodded, taking his hand as they walked toward the kitchens. Despite her tears, she silently vowed to get her revenge someday.

——-

Y/N was sitting cross-legged on the marble floor of the palace hallway, humming a little tune as she carefully arranged her dolls. She was lost in her own world, making one doll—a “queen”—order the others to prepare for a royal feast. Eurymachus strolled by, his usual swagger in place, when he noticed her. A mischievous grin spread across his face. “What’re you doing, little princess? Having a tea party?”

She looked up at him and stuck out her tongue. “Go away, Eurymachus. You’re too dumb to understand.”

Eurymachus raised an eyebrow, mock-offended. “Dumb, huh? Let me see one of these royal subjects of yours.” Before y/n could react, he snatched the queen doll from her hands and held it high above her head.

“Hey! Give her back!” She squealed, jumping up and reaching for the doll, but Eurymachus, being much taller, kept it well out of her grasp.

“What’s the big deal?” Eurymachus teased, twirling the doll by its arm. “Looks like she’s had better days anyway.”

“Don’t hurt her!” She shouted, her voice edging on panic.

Eurymachus, still smirking, pretended to inspect the doll. “Relax, kid. She’s just a—” He fumbled, and the doll slipped from his hand, hitting the floor with a loud crack. Her eyes went wide as she dropped to her knees, cradling the broken doll. Her lips trembled, and then, with a loud wail, she bolted down the hall, tears streaming down her face.

“ANTINOUS!” she sobbed, her voice echoing through the palace.

Moments later, Antinous appeared, storming toward her like an avenging storm. He knelt beside his sister, taking one look at the broken doll in her hands and her tear streaked face. “Who did this?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

She pointed back down the hallway. “Eurymachus! He broke her on purpose!”

Antinous stood, his face a mask of fury. “Stay here,” he commanded before striding off.

Eurymachus was still chuckling to himself when Antinous found him. Before he could utter a word, Antinous grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

“What the—? Antinous, what’s your—” Eurymachus’s protest was cut off by a sharp punch to the gut.

“You broke her doll, you idiot!” Antinous growled, landing another blow. “She’s a kid! What is wrong with you?”

“Alright, alright! I didn’t mean to—” Eurymachus tried to explain, but Antinous wasn’t having it. He landed another punch before shoving Eurymachus to the floor.

“You ever upset her like that again,” Antinous snarled, “and I’ll make sure you’re the broken one.” With that, Antinous stormed back to his sister, leaving Eurymachus groaning on the floor.

She looked up at her brother with wide, teary eyes. “Did you get him?”

Antinous knelt beside her, gently wiping her tears away. “Don’t worry, N/N. I handled it. Nobody messes with my little sister.”

She sniffled but managed a small smile. “Thanks, Antinous.”

He smiled back, ruffling her hair. “Come on, let’s get you a new doll.”

——

Y/N sprinted through the palace halls, her small frame trembling with sobs. Tears streamed down her face as she burst into Eurymachus’s room without knocking. He was lounging on a chair, lazily polishing a dagger, but he immediately sat up when he saw her crying. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” Eurymachus asked, a rare note of concern in his voice.

She threw herself into his arms, clutching his tunic. “Telemachus said—he said when his father, Odysseus, comes back, he’ll kill Antinous and all the suitors! He can’t kill my brother, Eurymachus! I don’t want him to die!”

Eurymachus blinked, his usual smirk replaced by a furrowed brow. He awkwardly patted her back, unsure of how to comfort her. “Hey, hey, calm down, kid. No one’s killing Antinous, alright? That little brat’s just running his mouth.”

She sniffled, looking up at him with tear-streaked cheeks. “You promise?”

Eurymachus sighed and stood, setting her down gently. “I’ll take care of this, alright? You stay here.”

Without waiting for a reply, he stormed out of the room, muttering curses under his breath. It didn’t take long to find Telemachus, who was in the courtyard practicing with a wooden sword. Eurymachus marched up to him, his usual swagger replaced by irritation. “Hey, prince,” Eurymachus called out, his tone sharp. “What’s this I hear about you telling Y/N that Odysseus is gonna kill us all? Scaring a little girl? Real manly of you.”

Telemachus lowered his sword and turned to face Eurymachus, his face a mix of defiance and annoyance. “I just told her the truth. If my father comes back, he will deal with all of you. It’s not my fault she can’t handle it.”

Eurymachus glared, stepping closer. “Listen here, you little snot. You keep your mouth shut about that kind of thing, especially around her. You think this is a game? She’s scared out of her mind!”

Telemachus rolled his eyes and smirked. “Maybe if you suitors weren’t plotting to steal my mother’s hand, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

Eurymachus opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything, Telemachus swung his foot up and kicked him square in the shin. Eurymachus yelped, stumbling back and clutching his leg.

“You little—!” Eurymachus growled, hopping on one foot.

Telemachus smirked smugly. “Maybe next time, think twice before coming at me.”

As Telemachus walked off, Eurymachus muttered a string of curses under his breath, rubbing his shin. He limped back to his room, where Y/N was still waiting, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice small.

Eurymachus slumped into his chair, waving her off. “Nothing. Just had a chat with the prince. Let’s just say he’s lucky I didn’t strangle him.”

She tilted her head, frowning. “Did you fix it?”

Eurymachus sighed, giving her a tired smile. “Yeah, kid. Don’t worry about it. Antinous isn’t going anywhere, okay?”

She nodded, her tears finally drying up as she gave him a small, hopeful smile. “Thanks, Eurymachus.”

He grunted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make this a habit, alright?”

@simpformoonkight @xo-cuteplosion-xo @lover-lyn

Tagged the ppl who I thought would be interested

[callmemonster68]

ENHYPEN - 7 Minutes In Heaven ( slight smut )

When the “7 Minutes of Heaven” game gets a little more sexual than expected

Pairing: Enhypen X FemReader

Genre: Slight Obscenity

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

Sunghoon Scenario: Sunghoon had always kept his feelings to himself, but in that moment, the seven minutes in heaven became a challenge. The tension between them was overwhelming, and he couldn’t hide how he felt anymore. Sunghoon: "I never thought I’d say this, but you really get to me, Y/N." Y/N: "I don’t understand." Sunghoon: "Every time I see you smiling with the others… I feel like you’re slipping away from me. And now, these seven minutes… they’re my chance to show you how I really feel."

Development:Sunghoon stepped closer, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her into a searing kiss. The intensity between them grew as his lips trailed down her neck, making her shiver. He backed her against the wall, his hands exploring her curves. Her fingers slid down his chest, undoing his belt. Their bodies moved in sync, each touch and sound heightening the desire until they both reached their peak, the outside world forgotten.

Heeseung Scenario: The closet door closed, and Heeseung seemed more introspective than usual. Y/N could feel the tension in the air. Heeseung: "I’m good at hiding how I feel, but I can’t do it anymore, Y/N." Y/N: "What’s going on with you?" Heeseung: "Seeing you with the others hurts more than I thought it could. You… make me want more."

Development: Heeseung closed the distance between them, his hands cupping her face as he kissed her deeply. His lips traveled to her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. He turned her around, pressing her against the wall as his hands slid under her clothes. Y/N let out a soft moan as his movements became more urgent. Their bodies intertwined, the small space amplifying the intensity of their connection.

Jay Scenario: Everyone was gathered, and the game of "7 Minutes in Heaven" had begun. When it was Y/N and Jay’s turn, the air between them was heavy with tension. The closet door closed, and silence filled the space. Jay: "You know you drive me crazy, right?" Y/N: "What do you mean?" Jay: "Every time I see you with the others… I feel out of control. But now, I finally have you to myself for these seven minutes."

Development: The closeness between them was undeniable. Y/N felt the intensity of Jay’s gaze, deeper than she had anticipated. Unable to resist, he pressed her against the wall, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed down her sides, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She felt his arousal pressing against her, and as their breaths mingled, he lifted her, letting their bodies collide. The confined space amplified every sensation as their moans filled the closet, the game outside long forgotten.

Niki Scenario: Niki’s gaze was possessive as he watched Y/N interact with others. When it was their turn in the game, he pulled her into the closet with a mix of frustration and desire. Niki: "I can’t stand seeing you with the others, Y/N." Y/N: "Niki, you’re acting strange." Niki: "I don’t know how to deal with this. But now it’s just you and me, and I won’t let you escape."

Development: The tension in the air was palpable as Niki pressed her against the door, his lips crashing onto hers with urgency. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as his body molded against hers. Y/N responded in kind, her hands trailing under his shirt. She felt his arousal grow as she unzipped his pants, her touch sending shivers through him. Unable to hold back, Niki lifted her, their movements urgent and hungry as they gave in to the heat of the moment.

Jungwon Scenario: When Y/N and Jungwon entered the closet, something in his eyes was different. He seemed visibly tense, and Y/N couldn’t ignore it. Jungwon: "I know I’m always the playful one, but today… this is more than just a game." Y/N: "What are you talking about?" Jungwon: "I feel something every time I see you laughing with the others. I can’t pretend anymore."Development: The energy between them grew stronger as Jungwon stepped closer, his hand cupping her face. His lips brushed against hers hesitantly, but the moment their mouths met, all hesitation disappeared. He pushed her against the back of the closet, his kisses turning more desperate. His hands slid under her shirt, exploring her skin as their bodies pressed together. Y/N tugged at his belt, and before long, the tension between them exploded in fervent passion, their whispers echoing in the small space.

Sunoo Scenario: Sunoo was usually playful, but tonight something was different. He was more serious than Y/N had ever seen, and the seven minutes in heaven seemed to be drawing something new out of him. Sunoo: "I’ve always seen you as a friend, but today… I can’t ignore how I feel anymore." Y/N: "What do you mean?" Sunoo: "Every time you’re near others, something in me reacts. I don’t know why, but I can’t hide it anymore."

Development: Sunoo stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers before he leaned in for a soft but lingering kiss. As their lips moved together, his hands found her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N’s hands slid under his shirt, feeling his warmth. Their movements became more daring, and before long, the closet’s small space was filled with the sound of their passion as they lost themselves in each other.

Jake Scenario: Jake and Y/N were in the closet, and the energy between them was electrified. He was more serious than usual, and it left Y/N intrigued. Jake: "I always joke around, but today… I’m not kidding anymore." Y/N: "What do you mean?" Jake: "Every time I see you with the others, something inside me… breaks. I want you, Y/N, and I think you realize that now."

Development: The confined space amplified their emotions. Jake stepped closer, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her flush against him. His lips met hers, and the kiss deepened quickly, filled with raw intensity. He lifted her onto a small shelf, his hands exploring every inch of her. Y/N tugged at his pants, her touch igniting a fire between them. Their breaths were ragged as they moved together, the small space echoing with their whispered moans.

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

[bitchinbarzal]

Stranger | N Hischier

summary: I walked past a stranger today, which was strange because I knew their biggest fear, their phone number off by heart, I knew how they liked their eggs. You’re just a stranger to me now.

-

Nico went home to Switzerland at the end of the season and it was nice. Nice to not be constantly nagged by the thought of running into him.

You’d blocked him on social media, too afraid to see him enjoying himself — without you.

You’d thrown yourself into work, trying to ignore the heartache you felt when people asked “aren’t you normally in Switzerland this time of year?”

Over the summer you moved out of your apartment. Moving your stuff out box by box when you eventually found a new place.

You’d been lucky that Nico offered to move in with Timo when the split happened in March. He’d assured you that you could stay in the apartment as long as needed.

There was a dull ache in your chest when you locked the door for a final time, slipping your set of keys through the letterbox.

It felt symbolic of you sending Nico away, for good.

September came around quicker than you’d liked and you saw Timo, Luke and even the Lazar’s around. It was only a matter of time.

They’d given you pitying looks when they’d seen you but you didn’t react. Scared that if you did, you’d let your emotions show.

Then it happened.

It didn’t happen in your favourite coffee shop or the bagel place you frequented together.

It didn’t occur at the place you guys always got pizza on Friday.

It happened in your new local grocery store. A store so far away from your old apartment you’d assumed it was a safe space.

He saw you, locking eyes and giving you a gentle smile.

You mentally battled to find a response. Wondering if you stop and ask how his off season went.

Instead, you continued walking. Continued on as if you hadn’t spent years with him, you hadn’t been sleeping in his bed for years.

Like you didn’t know this man inside out.

You couldn’t shake the interaction, or lack thereof. All day it had been replaying in your mind.

That night as you got ready for bed there was a knock on the door. You frowned, a little confused why anyone was here so late.

You peeked through the hole in the door to see him, he was standing outside your door. You pulled the door opened just slightly.

“Nico, what are you doing here?”

He sighed, leaning against the wall.

“I saw a stranger today” he started, to which you hummed.

“Which is so weird because i know her biggest fears and her dreams, I know her favourite food and how to make her feel better when she’s sick. I know her phone number by heart and I know she knows I still love her”

Your heart beat against your chest heavily “Nico, why are you here?”

“I know she wouldn’t have left her new address at our apartment if she didn’t hope in some deep part of her that i’d come back to fight for her”

You sighed “Nico, please”

He heard you, he heard the pleading tone.

He sighed and leaned forward to kiss your forehead “Don’t be a stranger, Y/N. Please. I can cope with you not being mine but i cannot stand to lose you fully”

“Goodbye Nico”

“Goodbye, Stranger”

[genderqueerdykes]

I don’t feel like a human… but I don’t know what else I’d be either? Any advice? Thanks!! Love ur blog btw <33

i can give some general non/alterhuman questioning advice!

are there any species of animals, aliens, fictional species or characters, machines, objects, plants/flora, vampires, or mythological creatures you've found yourself feeling drawn toward in a way that isn't attraction, but rather feels like a very deep personal connection?

take it slow and examine why it is you don't feel human. maybe you don't like the body you're in. maybe you don't understand how humans think and feel. maybe you feel like you belong in another time, place, or setting. maybe you feel as though you're not from this planet. maybe you feel as though you belong in nature. maybe you feel you've lived another person's life before.

are there any body parts you're specifically dysphoric about having or not having? have you ever felt like you should have a tail, paws, ears, claws, scales, wings, horns, fangs, a muzzle, different eyes, different legs, should be walking on all fours, and so on? have you ever found yourself really wishing you could change certain features of your body that aren't necessarily related to gender?

do you feel any particularly strong connections to nature, space, fictional or mythological settings? if so, why do you feel connected and how does that relate to you?

do you have any animalistic or nonhuman gestures that you find yourself frequently making? perhaps you like to walk on all fours, perhaps you like to bark, meow, growl, hiss, moo, oink, snort, whinny, or make other nonhuman sounds. maybe you like to pretend l like you're wandering around behaving like a nonhuman animal. maybe you eat food in a certain way that reminds you of how an animal or other creature eats.

do you feel as though you have spiritual connections to any other species or fictional individuals but don't know how to explain it? instead of appropriating spirit animals if you are not indigenous, you may be otherkin, therian, nonhuman, or alterhuman instead

do you find yourself gravitating towards videos, books, shows, movies, or other media about a specific type of animal, creature, or person?

do you find yourself collecting items or making art about specific species, creatures, and so on? do you find you have a lot of items or collect a lot of art of a specific animal, creature, or fictional character? do you find that you're instantly drawn to specific nonhuman animals when you're out in the world? do you notice certain animals more than others? do you find yourself wanting to interact with specific animals more than others?

you can also take the time to learn more about animals, nature, fictional settings, space, the ocean, or whatever else it is you'd like to look into for your possible identity! just learning about nonhuman creatures and animals can be very fun, and may expose you to new species and creatures you've never heard of before. sometimes it takes process of elimination before one figures it out

some people suggest meditation in order to figure it out, but this will vary from person to person. not every person benefits from meditation, and not every meditation session is going to help you understand that part of yourself. it can be a very affective tool, but i'm gonna say this one, people's mileage varies wildly. you can also make assumptions about something you've uncovered during a meditation session and make an incorrect call by something that showed up just briefly in your mind while meditating

this is not a comprehensive list by any means, but i hope it helps somewhat! feel free to ask any specific questions you may have about being nonhuman or alterhuman! i'm always happy to talk about this! take care for now, good luck sorting things out!

[lesbianvettel]

So You Think I’m Mediocre? | Jenson Button x RB!Reader

Had to post something for his birthday. Happy birthday Jense ily!

Red Bull reader sees an interview Jenson did where she thinks he’s criticising her. Y/N confronts him. Slight mischaracterisation of Jense, apologies, I don��t know much about his career with Sky. Also he’s not married in this, sorry not sorry Brittny.

Warnings: 18+, thigh riding, slight degradation, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.1k

———————————————————————

“So, Jenson, what are your thoughts on Y/N?” Naomi asked, turning to her coworker.

“I’m not sure she’s all she’s hyped up to be-“ Jenson replies, quickly continuing when Naomi raises an eyebrow, “-Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not calling her mediocre per se- she’s been on the podium for the past 8 races. But has she really got what it takes to win?”

“Harsh words from JB! It looks like Y/N has to work harder to get his approval!” Naomi says to the camera, changing the subject to another driver.

You shut off your phone, slamming it down on the table in annoyance. Mediocre? You? You huff loudly, attracting the attention of your teammate.

“What’s got you all flustered? You should be celebrating!” Max chuckles, walking to sit opposite you.

The race had finished ages ago, and you’d finally had time to relax away from the cameras.

“Stupid fucking Jenson Button. Y’know I looked up to him for so many years, and now he’s out here slagging me off on live tv!” You complain, waving your hands around.

“Oh I saw that, surely he just wants you to get that top spot? Though I’m not giving it to you any time soon.” He replied lightheartedly, a poor attempt at humour.

“I don’t get why he’s so harsh on me! There’s loads of drivers who get podium a lot but don’t win, Charles is always doing it!” You whine.

“Maybe he has a crush on you.” Max joked. Then, seeing your eyes roll, added. “Hey that’d be a good thing right? Maybe he doesn’t want to show bias towards you because he likes you. Plus he’s very attractive- and single.”

“Back off, I had eyes on him first.” You smirk, then frowned again. “You don’t think that’s true, surely?”

“Only one way to find out, you should confront him about it.” Max stood up, excited to hear about the interaction in the morning.

“Though maybe find somewhere private, just in case.” He winked, exiting the room.

•••

You were on your way to your rental car, deep in thought, when suddenly you bumped into someone.

“Oh my god sorry, I wasn’t paying attention!” You apologise quickly, looking up to see who you’d crashed into.

And, of course it was the last person you wanted to see. Jenson Button.

“You can drive 200mph but can’t walk without crashing?” He chuckled, not unkindly.

“Yeah, whatever.” You scowled at him, remembering the interview.

He looked down at you in surprise, “What’s wrong, Y/N? I was only joking.” He frowned.

“Like you were only joking about me being mediocre?” You snapped.

You’d intended to ask him about his comments at the next race, after you’d had time to cool off. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Oh gosh, you saw that? I really didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, I respect you, Y/N, I think you’re one of the best drivers we’ve seen in years!” He rubbed his hand awkwardly on his neck.

“It didn’t sound like it. It sounded like you thought I’d never win.” You replied, pouting slightly.

“Sweetheart, I would love to see you beat Max. Between you and me, I think he needs to lose once in a while to keep him humble. But I couldn’t just say that on tv, I’m not really supposed to show favouritism.” He moved his other hand to rest on your shoulder, smiling earnestly.

You could feel the anger dissipating. “Are you trying to say I’m your favourite?” You replied, your voice sounding hopeful.

“Off the record, yes. I’m sorry you thought otherwise, I genuinely admire your skill and determination.” He rubbed your shoulder with his thumb, smiling sincerely.

You relaxed your shoulders, suddenly feeling embarrassed, blush rising to your cheeks.

“Plus,” he added, moving his hand slowly down your arm, “you’re arguably the prettiest on the grid.” His eyes raked over your body, pupils dilating almost imperceptibly.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you lean into his touch slightly. Seeing your reaction, Jenson brought a hand to your waist, gripping it gently.

“Well, I’d argue Charles wins in that category, at least Max seems to think so, but thank you.” You smiled bashfully.

“Yeah I bet he does. Ya know, I’m just about to head back to my hotel, I don’t suppose you want join? We can order food, I bet you’re starving.”

Your eyes widened at the proposal, unable to speak.

“Unless you have other plans?” He added hastily, “You’re probably going out to celebrate with Max?”

“No! I mean, I was, but it gets old after a while, we’re celebrating practically every race. Food sounds good!” You reply quickly, not wanting to sound uninterested.

“Okay! Great!” He chuckled, his hand moving to your back as he steered you towards his car.

•••

The drive back to his hotel room felt like an eternity. You couldn’t believe it. Here you were, in a car with your idol (and let’s be honest, crush). Jenson fucking Button.

Still brimming with energy from the race, you bounce your leg slightly, hoping Jenson wouldn’t think it was nerves. You didn’t want him to think he had the upper hand - you’d proved him wrong, you were a winner.

•••

Jenson had already checked in a few days prior so you went straight to his room, glad that the hotel was more secluded. As a female driver the media tended to give you a bad reputation.

You had barely stepped foot in the room when you were being pinned against the wall, his body towering over you.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” He said between hungry kisses, barely pausing to breathe.

“Me? I thought I was just a mediocre driver?” You said, suddenly getting cocky, knowing he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

“Come first and I’ll give you all the praise you want. Live on camera.” He replied, removing your shirt to continue kissing downwards.

“Come first? Well that depends on your skill.” You moaned as he sucked hickeys onto your neck, high enough to not be covered by your race suit.

“You’re such a tease. Strutting around the paddock in your tight suit for everyone to see.” He growls, unclasping your bra, kissing your breasts, teasing your nipples.

“But you’re the only one who gets a look under the suit, baby.” You whined, grasping his short hair and moving his head lower as he starts to unbuckle your trousers.

“Is that so? Last I heard you were whoring yourself out to any driver. Glad to hear you let ex-drivers participate.” He pulls your trousers down, swiftly removing them along with your panties.

“Your sources are incorrect, I’m not a slut, like you were at my age.” You reply, gasping as he drops to his knees, staring up at you hungrily.

“And yet here you are, at my mercy, begging for my touch.” He grazed his fingers across your inner thighs, hearing your breath hitch the closer he got to your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Jense, just get on with it!” You cried in frustration, desperate for him.

“As you wish.” He replied, his face disappearing, tongue lapping at your pussy, gently at first, deliberately missing your clit.

You grab his hair again, pushing him deeper, his tongue entering you while his fingers moved towards your sensitive clit.

He started to gently rub it, still lapping up your juices, making your legs shake slightly, clenching your thighs around his head.

“Jenseeeee-“ you whine, desperate for release. “Please, I need you inside me!” You could feel the sharp burn of his stubble against your clit, and it was almost too much.

He slowly gets up and leads you towards the bed, removing his clothes as you go.

Jenson sits at the foot of the bed and pats his bare thighs. “Show me how much you want it.”

You climb onto his lap, positioning yourself so your pussy was resting against his thigh.

Slowly at first, you rock your hips, gasping as your clit brushed his leg. He held your hips steady, encouraging you to speed up slightly.

A hand rested on your jaw, tilting your head up so he could watch your face, your mouth open, panting.

“You look so pretty like this, love, so desperate for my cock, you’re practically dripping all over me.” He smirked, knowing you were close.

“I need it so bad, Jense! Need your thick cock in me!” You reply, your pussy clenching around nothing. Your orgasm was building quickly, so close you could taste it.

Suddenly he lifted you off his thighs, pushing you gently onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. He chuckled as you let out a frustrated groan.

You gasped as he moved back to kissing your neck, whining at the loss of contact between your legs.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes!” You cried, arching up as he pushed your hips back down, entering a finger inside you.

You cried out for more, whining his name as he slowly entered a second, then third digit into you, stretching your tight pussy.

“That’s it baby, you’re so good for me, my perfect little slut.” He cooed, removing his fingers as you wailed in frustration.

“Patience, love.” Jenson said softly, moving to rub his dick across your wetness, hitting your clit at just the right angle.

“Please, stop teasing me!” You moaned, already so wet for him.

He smirked, slowly entering you until he bottoms out.

You whine, feeling so full, as he waits for you to adjust to his length.

He starts to pull out, making you whimper, until only his tip was inside you. He slams back into you as you cried out in pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well, darling, you’re so good for me.” He cooed, cupping your chin, pulling you into another deep kiss.

He sets a steady pace, focused on your now incoherent sentences. “You make such pretty sounds, sweetheart. Look at you, barely able to talk, so drunk on my cock.”

His strong hands grip your waist just hard enough to leave bruises in the morning, marking you as his.

Moving back to your nipples he runs his tongue slowly over them, moving one hand up to pinch them, coaxing another moan out of you.

“I’m so close!” You wail, tipping your head back as he attacks your neck again, licking and kissing over the red marks starting to appear.

“Come for me.” He commands, sending you over the edge as he reaches down to circle your neglected clit.

You cum, clenching your walls around his cock, overstimulated by his fingers and thickness.

“You look so beautiful with me inside you. It’s like you were made for me.”

Opening your eyes you gaze up at him with hooded eyes, dazed and glassy.

Your seductive stare sent him over the edge. “Darling, I’m gonna come!” He said, thrusts becoming uneven.

“Jense!” You cry, “Please, inside me!”

His thrusting stops as he fills you deeply with his seed. You almost come again, feeling so full of him, moaning obscenely.

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispers in your ear, pulling out of you finally, mouth watering as he watches his seed drip out of your wet cunt.

You look up at him innocently, biting your lip at the feeling of his cum trickling down your leg.

“I’m all yours, Jense.” You smile, pulling him into a slow, sensual kiss.

Eventually he breaks the kiss, getting up to walk to the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth.

Wiping you down gently, he kisses you again softly. Your eyes are closed as you smile sleepily, enjoying being taken care of.

Once you were clean, he lays down next to you, stroking your hair softly, staring at your puffy lips, red from rough kisses.

“Still think I’m mediocre?” You ask, almost inaudibly.

“Hmm,” he groaned into your neck, tracing a hand across your stomach. “I think you’ve convinced me.”

You smile as he kisses you gently, satisfied by his answer, slowly falling asleep in his arms as he moves his hand to circle your back.

•••

You wake in the night suddenly hungry, realising you hadn’t eaten since the race. A plate of fruit lay on the table next to you, along with a glass of water and a note:

You’ve worked up an appetite, sorry that’s the only cold food room service offered. Don’t worry, I’ll buy you dinner to make up for it.

You smile lovingly down at the man in your arms. Max is going to be so smug when you tell him.

[plaidos]

how do you read caliborn genderwise? calliope is clearly and obviously a trans girl but how caliborn relates to that feels like kt can be read a couple of ways

in Homestuck proper, Caliborn and Calliope are pretty obviously both canonically trans to me (though I suppose it’s subtextual). everything we learn about cherub gender we learn through Aranea & Calliope who are… like probably the least reliable narrators in the whole comic? the implication, to me, is that Calliope projected human gender roles onto cherubs/herself… a thing we know she already does; she takes massive liberties with her understandings of the traits of different species, in an obviously quite fannish way, and we know that she doesn’t really have any relationship to cherubkind beyond herself and her brother and a couple of artefacts they had.

and then obviously, Caliborn being Caliborn, he did the same in response. he defines himself in opposition or domination to Calliope at all costs, so naturally he chose what he thought was the stronger, better, superior earth gender.

like im not saying that cherubs have literally no gender at all, i don’t know if that’s true, but the green/red and hero/villain shit they have going on is basically its own alien gender/sex system. in FACT, in obscure homestuck lore esoterica, Calliope and Caliborn’s mother is directly stated to be the historical figure Calamity Jane (Calamity — eight letters. check it) so you know i’d say if anything that’s anything but traditional femininity.

i think Caliborn & Calliope are fundamentally meant to be read as transmasc and transfem respectively. all of their dialogue and interactions makes more sense this way. Calliope and Roxy is literally the most t4t storyline of all time

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Together In The Kitchen ~ Love That Burns

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST

Word Count: 770ish

Summary: You and Logan work together in the kitchen.

Warning(s): suggestive themes, complete cringe (seriously)

Notes: Please share your thoughts! This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

It had been a calm and lazy Sunday, just like you like them. Logan and you hadn’t done much, mainly just reading and lounging around. Eventually, dinner time came around and you knew that you and Logan needed to eat. You turned to kiss his cheek from where you were laying against him on the couch.

“I’m going to get dinner started,” you told him.

“Need any help?” Logan quickly offered.

“You willing?”

“Wouldn’t be offerin’ if I wasn’t.”

“I’d love your help, Logan.”

“Great.” 

Before you could move, Logan took you in his arms and stood up. You laughed as he carried you to the kitchen and set you on the counter. His lips captured yours for a brief kiss before he pulled back and looked at you like you hung the moon.

“Why don’t we try something new, sweetheart?” He suggested.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. “What do you have in mind?”

“What if I’m your hands and you tell me what do to?”

You giggled. “Uh, no.”

“What? You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you with my life, honey, I just don’t trust you to listen to my instructions.”

“Let me prove you wrong.” He began to press kisses down your neck. “Please, baby.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Logan’s begging. “Sorry, babe,” you pushed him away, surprised when he allowed you to. “I want something editable to eat tonight, but I could use your help as we work together.”

“Fine,” Logan sighed, head falling to your shoulder. “You win this time.”

His hands was on your hips as you pushed yourself off of the counter. You gave his lips another peck before pulling away from him to gather your needed items.

“Can you pull the carrots out of the fridge?” You asked.

Logan grunted, moving to do what you asked. He pulled out the carrots and turned to see that you had gotten out a cutting board. He set the carrots on it.

“Could you cut those?” You waved over at the carrots.

“Sure.” 

Logan washed the carrots before setting them down on the cutting board. He released his three claws from his fist and rinsed them off before using them to cut the carrots. You rolled your eyes at Logan. You knew that he knew that him using his claws for random everyday things turned you on. You knew the game that he was playing, but two could play at this game.

Once everything was cut up and placed in the pot on the stove, you flicked your wrist and the pot was immediately the temperature you wanted it without turning the stove on. Then you turned to the bowl that you had dough rising in and used your powers to get the temperature up slightly. Logan watched with mischievous eyes, knowing full well that the two of you were going back and forth like this.

Logan helped you form the rolls and placed them in the oven to cook. He glanced in the pot and unsheathed one of his claws. He fished out a carrot on one of his claws and turned to you.

“Taste,” he requested, offering you his claw.

You kept your eyes on him as you took the carrot and the tip of his claw in your mouth. You closed your mouth around them and slowly pulled off. You held off the smirk that threatened to take over your face as Logan let out a low growl. 

“Just how I wanted it,” you commented. You kissed the lip of his claw, always trying to remind him that you loved his claws. “Thanks, honey.”

Logan quickly responded by pulling you into him and smashing your lips together. He quickly dominated the kiss. He lifted you up onto the counter, smirking against the kiss as he felt you growing hotter.

“Wanna tell me what to do, sweetheart?” He taunted against your lips.

“Logan,” you moaned as his lips moved from your lips and down your neck.

“Don’t think that’s tellin’ me what to do.”

“Please…”

“Not quite.”

“Logan.”

“Still not.”

“Please just take me to the bedroom and do what you want with me.”

“What I want?” He leaned back with a smirk. “What about dinner?”

“I can warm it back up… Please, Logan. I’m telling you what to do… Take me to bed and show me how much you love me.”

He picked you up and knelt on the ground, laying you down on the kitchen floor. “I’d think I’d rather do it right here… Makin’ love in the kitchen to my wife.”

[cathwritestragediesnotsins]

Posting drafts

Bakugou x reader

“Katsuki! What the hell happened?”

The current number 2 hero stood just outside the doorway of my apartment, hunched over, one hand gripping his side in pain and the other clutching the doorjamb to keep himself upright.

“Oh my god, did you just come from a fight?? Why aren’t you at the hospital??”

I reached for him even as I scolded him with my words, trying to help keep him upright while also ushering him into my apartment but he stopped me, pushing my hand away gently.

“Y/n…..” he said my name so softly, with such vulnerability. His head was tilted towards the floor so I couldn’t see the look on his face, but it almost sounded like he was…crying?

He lifted his head to look at me then, his face now inches from mine due to the way he towered over me. I was right, his crimson eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I haven’t done it yet, I haven’t become the number one hero. But I….I thought for a moment I wasn’t going to make it out….and there’s still so much I need to tell you.”

He was speaking so pleadingly, I wasn’t used to this side of him. Sure he had opened up to me before, but I’d never seen the look in his eyes right now before. Like he was begging.

“Kats, what are you talking about? We need to get you help. You’re still bleeding.” I try to reason with him, but I know it’s useless. Whatever it is he’s trying to say he has decided he wants to say it now. And if there’s one think I know about Bakugou Katsuki, it’s that when he’s decided something he makes it happen.

“Just wait dammit” he grits out between clenched teeth. This is the Katsuki I’m familiar with: all harsh words and biting tone. But it’s a weak attempt.

“I promised myself, that one day, when I was number 1, when I was worthy, I would ask you to be mine. I’m breaking that promise now, because I realize that I was fucking stupid. All this time spent waiting, I should’ve just told you how I felt.” His fist clenches against the doorway in frustration. “I thought, if I proved I was better than that dumbass Izuku that you would choose me. But I don’t want to wait anymore.”

My mind is reeling trying to take in his words as well as the fact that the man I love is bleeding on the carpet of my apartment building. I open my mouth to speak but it takes a moment for my brain to form the words.

“Izuku? What? What do you mean?”

He scoffs then, lowering his head again. “You know that idiot is in love with you right?…..we both are.”

Love. Izuku….and Katsuki….are in love with, me?

“Katsuki, stop messing around…” I say, but I know he’s not.

He lifts his head so he’s eye to eye with me again, it looks like it takes more effort this time which concerns me.

“Dumbass” his eyes are soft as they look into mine. “You didn’t know?”

My eyes are filling with tears and I’m not quite sure why. I think back on everything, all of our interactions.

“You…love me?” I say, needing to hear him say the words outright to be able to believe them. Afterall, this isn’t just my Katsuki, this is the number 2 hero in all of Japan, one of the most popular celebrities in the world for his looks and passion.

“Yes.” He says quietly. “I love you Y/n. I always have.” He looks so resolute as he says it. Still vulnerable and broken, but also determined.

I don’t even think about it before I’m reaching to cup his jaw in my hands and pulling him into me. And then I’m kissing him. He’s kissing me. After all this time, waiting, pining, I am kissing Bakugou Katsuki. And he’s kissing me back with just as much passion and urgency.

I try to pull back after a moment, suddenly remembering the situation we’re in, but his lips chase mine. He steps forward into me and captures me into another kiss. I make a noise of disagreement in the back of my throat and place my hands on his chest to push him back. By that time we’re both breathless.

“Kats, you’re bleeding.” I remind him.

He laughs and cracks a mischievous smile at me “It’s not my blood”

I look at him in blank shock for a moment before wrinkling my nose and pulling away “ew oh my god that’s worse”

His chuckle turns into a full blown cackle at my disgust. I glare at him as he laughs until he winces and grips his side.

“Alright, you might not be bleeding but you still need medical attention” I chastise him, motioning to where his arm was still cradling his abdomen.

“Calm down princess” he says, smirking fondly at me once again. “I already checked in with the EMTs after the fight, just a few bruised ribs. They put me on leave for a week.” His hand comes up to cup my cheek like I had done to him moments ago. “You should see the other guy.”

I roll my eyes at his cocky attitude but I can’t help smiling as well.

“So,” he pulls me in so that our foreheads are resting against each other. “Can I take that as an ‘I love you too’?”

I nod, his ash blond hair tickling the crown of ny head as I do so. “Yes. I love you too Katsuki.”

[dandysworld-mansionau]

DANDYS WORLD MANSION AU MASTERPOST

WOAH. DANDYS WORLD MANSION AU??? OWNED BY @the-silly-superstar ???  YOU SHOULD TOTALLY CHECK THIS OUT??

BECAUSE ITS DANDYS WORLD AU.

Heh. Epic intro Am I right? Wrong, READ THIS NOWWWWW /silly

Rodger Glass

Rodger Glass, a famous detective living in the town of Gardenview. Was first in an arranged marriage with Connie Boolynski, but is rumored to have murdered her. He was taken to court for these charges, but his own quick wits saved him.

Lives in the town’s great manor with his new wife, Teagan Glass, their employees, and adopted child, Toodles. He doesn’t exactly love Teagan, but he sure loves the money her family brings to them each year. 

He’s rather stern with his employees, a no-nonsense man as he usually is when it comes to work, but one butler does seem to get ‘special treatment’ every now and again.

Teagan Glass

Teagan Glass, the second wife of Rodger’s. She lives in the manor with her husband and adopted child, Toodles.

She comes from a rich background, growing up wealthy and staying that way throughout the years. Despite this, she’s a kind-hearted soul in public, willing to help anyone she knows financially. Behind closed doors it’s a different story. Like Rodger, she’s strict and pushy, but doesn’t mean harm most of the time. She tries to be polite to the employees, but it seems after each passing day her teabag’s rope is wearing thin.

She seems weary of her husband and his whereabouts, especially with that butler, but Shrimpo, the second butler, seems to help her out a bit. 

Glisten

The Manor’s lovely butler, part time diva. He’s not the best at his job, having dropped many plates and drinks, but his jokes towards guests make up for it. He’s most often busy when Rodger has guests, however. He often reads to Toodles and helps her choose outfits each day.

Shrimpo

Shrimpo, the angriest butler in town. Definitely not favorable when it comes to interacting with guests, or anyone really, but excellent at his work. Often assists at Teagan’s tea parties. He’s very easy to set off, but something about Teagan keeps him calm, maybe it’s the smell of the sweet tea?

Tisha

The lovely maid of the manor, consistently cleaning so the place is spotless. Hates when guests dirty her floors with the ichor outside, cleaning their shoes before they even enter. Enjoys Toodles’ company while she works, but the lovely ghost of the mansion keeps her company.

Design update notes - jabot added and sleeves are more similar to Connie’s, just round. Gloves also have three rounded edges. Has petticoat under dress

Connie Glass Boolynski

Rodger’s previous, now deceased wife whom haunts where she died. Cause of death? Her corset was incredibly tight, allowing her husband to stealthily stab her. She bled out, unknowing of her fate until it was far too late.

Design update notes - chest and sleeves are more triangular and pointy.

Toodles 

The young daughter recently adopted by the Glass family. Astounding straight-A student, despite apparently never studying. She enjoys reading books or hosting small ‘fashion shows’ with the butler Glisten when he’s not busy. Dislikes Teagan, finding Tisha’s company more welcoming and comfortable.

LINEUP (w/ flat colors)

RULES

No nsfw asks, even if the characters are adults!

Suggestive is fine tho, ig?

If I’m uncomfortable with the ask, I’ll ignore it tho.

Don’t be mean!! Bullying is a no no here

No proshippers/creeps allowed >:(

FAQ

Can I make fanart?

Yes!! Tag me so I can see it!

Can I make nsfw?

I’d rather you don’t, to be honest, but I can’t stop you, GO FOR IT! The kids and any animal characters are strictly OFF LIMITS for this though.

If you do make nsfw, DO NOT TAG ME IN IT. I will quite literally block you if you do.

What do you plan on making with this?

Comics, art, or whatever, honestly. I don’t exactly have any big plans, but I’ll mess with this for as long as I want to.

I HAVE MORE QUESTIONS RAHHH

Go to the ask box for more info cause omg I hate writing all this!! :]

Also, quick intro, I’m Uni! (She/they, @the-silly-superstar ) I’m really into dandy’s world rn, so AU!! First time with a more ‘big’ AU blog, if that makes sense, so be nice plz :(

Also, you can ask me questions about the AU, or ask the characters directly!

Have fun with this chat!

[lookatmysillies]

Aoki Intimacy Levels 🌀

I’m so behind on this so since we’re all doing it I’m throwing my hat in for my stinkyass child! Note that Aoki is inherently a very paranoid and cynical character at times so some of his thoughts might reflect that cute little quirk. I totally made up some context for characters he hasn’t really interacted with so enjoy

Airin (@apriciticreveries): 90%

We don’t really even… talk about things when we’re together. But I’m comfortable in our silence. I feel as if I understand you on some level. I hope I do. I imagine if I’d ever had a little sibling… well. I think it’d be like you in a way. If humans are really made of stars like they say, I think we must have come from the same one.

Andri (@alien-til-i-stage): 5%

You’re not them and you never will be. I wish you didn’t exist. I hate you. I hate—that you don’t.

Akane (@aakaneeee): 40%

You’re kind, and approachable. We don’t have a deep relationship or anything but I think you’re pretty cool. Sometimes I feel a bit intimidated by you. I don’t think you’re trying to harm me, though, which is a nice bonus!

August (@junebluues): 45%

You remind me of me in many ways, which is why I find you a bit unsettling. Anakt Garden really hasn’t been good for either of us, huh? Also you kind of seem a little cult leader-ish I don’t really know what to do with that

Daian (@apple8ees): 94%

I didn’t really understand why you bothered with me at first - I mean, you and Kay are close, but I didn’t know you actually liked me as an individual and not just an extension of him. It was… eye-opening. I think I really love you. I wish I didn’t. It means I have stake in your—continued survival. I don’t want to have a stake in anyone anymore. It’s too hard.

E (same as Daian): 50%

I still love this shadow of you and you’re gone and I don’t want to

Ish (@chevalperd): 82%

I used to think you were so unburdened. You seem unburdened. Act unburdened. But I don’t think you are at all. I think you’re just good at hiding it. Good thing I’m good at seeing through bullshit. I just wish I could pinpoint the particular type of bullshit we’re dealing with whenever you close yourself off. Guess I’ll just have to look harder.

Kay (@rockwgooglyeyes): 96%

Why can’t I figure this out? I see your apathy since it happened and my instinct is to fix it. Life is so much simpler when you’re fixing things. You tell me it’s illogical to seek to fix human beings but then, I’ve never been logical like you. Am I trying to do to you what they did to you? I probably can’t help but keep trying. I just want you to be happy.

Kel (@sotogalmo): 30%

You keep to yourself, mostly. I don’t particularly have a problem with it - we all take care of ourselves. But it makes me itch. Like I’m doing something wrong and I don’t even know what. Or you are and I feel like I’m on the receiving end. Both?

Mercury: 70%

We have many things - and people - in common. Getting along with you is a little easier than it is with others. I don’t feel I have to make any grand gestures to get through to you. …Nad sure does seem to hate that we’re friends though, heheh.

Nadohan (same as Andri): 94%

You’re brash, impulsive, cutting, you present an arrogant front - worst than all of it combined, you’re an Anakt Garden darling. Couldn’t you be doing more for us? Even for yourself? Don’t you even want to save you? Do you know something I don’t? Either way, you’re impossible to decode. You’re not the best companion I could ask for, that’s for sure. But you’re the one that’s mine.

Para (@shakingparadigm): 40%

Is this how August feels, being the youngest of us, wondering how they fit into the picture? You’re so kind and interesting - but I don’t know what to say! I’m not even certain I want to say anything. There’s a comfort in friendly feelings from afar. Makes things less complex.

Plip (@awaggaa): 80%

Like Nadohan, I’m vexed by your proximity to the aliens. No wonder the two of you are such a pair. Are you gay That aside, I find you to be a charming person at heart, with knowledge and wit that pushes me to compete. It brings a spark of light into my life, that race.

Star (@starry-skiez): 85%

You’re very sweet. More tactile than a lot of others, which I don’t mind. I’m challenged by your forwardness to be more open myself. I could probably use the challenge. Daian sure does like you, too, which is a shining endorsement of your character, in my eyes.

Syd (@tsukacchako): 30%

I don’t know much about you, but I do observe. There’s a level of transparency and a level of total obliqueness, like two sides of one coin. A bit of an enigma, I suppose. …Well, I thought it was fun being kids in Anakt and switching glasses to see how different things looked through one another’s lenses. I think I do that too much these days—I can’t even remember what the world looks like WITHOUT someone’s lenses over my own.

Toon (@nottoonedin): 80%

You show such talent yet seem shy somewhere deep down. It’s easy for me to feel at ease with you, these days, knowing someone so bright is human nonetheless. Presumably human? There aren’t - more androids hanging around, right? Hey, where are you goi—

Vant (@ivanttakethis): 85%

A supportive and consistent presence, you’re a breath of fresh air. A true friend. You always give me the benefit of the doubt even when you shouldn’t.

Zen (@zerostyrant): 55%

Of all the people here, you might be the most frustrating to try and decipher. It feels like you have your own mission, separate from the rest of us. Whatever you’re looking for, I hope you find it. I hope you’re prepared for the possibility you might not.

I’m terribly sorry if I forgot anyone Aoki’s had interactions with aaaand if our sonas haven’t interacted, feel free to reach out in my inbox, I don’t bite I just procrastinate 😃