#ive heard it SIX TIMES today

[feddy-34]

is it legally required for every bay area function to play blow the whistle or something

[mindless-existence1]

Jjk men headcannons- Sfw and Nsfw

Includes: Geto, Gojo, Toji, and Nanami

Authors note: This is probobly the last thing I'm going to be able to make before my broken arm gets put in a sling so enjoy it chat!

Sfw

Ive said this before but Gojo spoils tf out of his partner. He has money what is he using it for besides you? Really likes sweets so sometimes he buys candy for you just so he has an excuse to by some for himself. Same other snacks, he'll say they're for you but he's the one eating over half the bag.

Geto has some crazy Insomnia and the only way for him to sleep is if he's cuddling you. It makes him fall asleep so fast. Spooning turns off his brain like a lightswitch. Something about physical contact with his loved one makes him feel content.

Nanami is the definition of a gentleman. We know this already, but it's the little things. He pulls out your chairs, he opens your car door (going as far as pushing you back into the car so he can open it for you if you already did). He also will hold your waist so your close to him in crowded places.

Toji, tho he hates electronics, would answer you no matter what. In the middle of a mission? He's answering with a "Hey there doll" (he'd call you doll I've said it once I'll say it again). He'd never text or call you first during a mission but if you contact him he's picking up the phone and you wouldn't even be able to tell he was on call.

Gojo likes seeing yiu wear his glasses. He'll let you have them on when he's wearing his blindfold and he goes crazy. He'll say something like "they look better on me" but in reality he's using six eyes to get a veiw of you from other angels.

Geto is kinda like this but it's with shirts. He's a baggy shirt wearer trust so seeing you in one makes him border line feral. It's like your covered in him and that's qhat he wants. He likes the thought that when you wear them when he's not there it's kinda like he is.

Nanami is a listener so if you're yapper he's the one for you. He'll listen to anything and everything. He has some tough days at his job and hearing you randomly call him after a hard meeting just to tell him about the dog you saw on your walk today brightens his day.

Toji doesn't like seeing you work. And not in like any sort of sexist or "I'm better than you" way. Just a "I'm right her I should do it not my god/goddess of a partner". He just doesn't want to let you lift a finger when he's right there and able. You have pick up the table, he's got it. You spilled some water, pet him wipe it up. Anything.

Nsfw

Gojo is a FREAK he will try basically anything at least once. If you're into it or want to try it almost 100% of the time he's down. Especially if in involves you being dominated because despite what he says he's a switch that likes bottoming more.

Geto likes when you pull at his hair. I'm talking yanking it, his scalp is sensitive and it makes his head go all fuzzy. When he's giving you head/eating you out he gets off on you pulling his hair alone. He'd rut his hips intoanuthung he could when yiu tug a particularly sensitive spot.

Nanami lives to serve. Although most times he's on top he's doing what you tell him to do. Kinda vanilla but not in a bad way. He'd try stuff out if you asked but nothing too freaky. Likes missionary so he can see you perfectly.

Toji is a pain lover. Both giving and receiving. It's the way the pain mixes with pleasure that gets him going. But seeing you wither and shake from the intense mix of pleasure and pain makes him get dizzy with lust. This sight is so pretty and he can't help but tease you more at the veiw.

Gojo would use 6 eyes to see the two of you while you're fucking. Your ontop of him and he can't lift his head from the pleasure to see you so he uses the last of his strength to activate 6 eyes and get all the different angles.( I heard someone say his eyes glow bright blue when he's using his technique so imagine you look up at him and he barley opens his eyes and you just see the bright blue gleaming down at you.)

Geto is a bit of a risk taker. Nothing crazy but he'd be open for some different places to be added on the lists of places to get freaky. Maybe it's am old Jujustu Tech classroom. Maybe he fucks you there while people are still taking classes and he has to put a hand over your mother to keep you quiet.

Nanami would whisper sweet nothings in yiur ear. You can't even hear what he's saying over the intense shocks of pleasure but none the less his voice goes to your cloudy head and all you can do is moan in response to the praise.

Toji would fuck you infront of a mirror. He just loves doggy and want you to see how pretty you look. He'd also want to see you so it'd very self indulgent. He just really enjoys watching in live time how your face reacts to the intense pleasure.

[saintsonnet]

please expand on the lancelot x gawain i keep seeing on your blog 🙏

okay sorry i took so long i decided to shower after you sent me this because i knew that if i started then i would never end up showering today. and then it was an unfinished routine so i had to lotion and brush my teeth and floss and do hair stuff too.

so, obviously, it's lancelot du lac and gawaine of orkney. both knights of the round table, etc etc. you know who they are. i hope. they're not exactly similar to their bbc merlin counterparts---lancelot is of noble birth in classic arthuriana, gawaine is arthur's nephew (though bbc merlin doesn't exactly...keep the familial relations that canon does), things like that---but i'd honestly say that their character personalities are similar enough that it's verging on acceptable! just as a reference point for you, i suppose.

gawaine has lost a fair fight only to six knights in his time, launcelot being one of them (Le Morte d'Arthur, Sir Thomas Mallory. book IV, chapter XVIII) (the other five being sir tristram, sir bors, sir percevel, sir pelleas, and sir marhaus). he is mentioned to throw fights against lancelot because he loves losing to him (cannot remember the source for the life of me) and, of course, lancelot always notices when he does.

then there's this famous quote:

(vulgate II, p140) where launcelot tells galehaut (another man that he arguably has...something...going on with) that he would share with gawaine everything he loves, save guinevere, in order to have gawaine forever. gawaine then goes on to say that, essentially, he would wish to be the most beautiful woman so that lancelot would love him as a wife.

also, in Morte, which i don't have photos of because my copy is a physical book rather than a pdf like how i'm reading vulgate and i don't want to take photos with my laptop camera. there is this quote "and Launcelot with this sword shall slay the man that in the world he loves best, that shall be Sir Gawaine." which is engraved in the hilt of the red hilted sword, balin's sword that merlin encases in stone and which galahad, lancelot's son, eventually wields.

^this, also. from vulgate IV, p140. after launcelot accidentally kills gawaine's brother gareth (named here as gaheriet; all the orkneys have...many ways of spelling their names. look up a list of all of gawaine's names over history, i dare you) who was guarding guinevere's cell...he begs gawaine to forgive him and even promises to swear himself and all his men into subservience to gawaine if gawaine would only forgive him. "I want to be your companion just as I used to be." mhm...

and "I'll swear to you on 'relics that I didn't kill your brother Gaheriet intentionally" is a huge promise. swearing on a holy relic in such a deeply, fundamentally christian society was the vow that you could make. the reason why honour was so important in that time was because the grand majority of people were illiterate, so one's word was the most one could give, in the majority of situations! and here is lancelot, saying that he'll swear on a holy relic that he did not mean to kill gareth if it means gawaine will forgive him and love him again.

there is also, right before gawaine eventually dies (from a sword wound to the head from lancelot) he writes a letter to launcelot begging forgiveness for having been so horrible to lancelot before his death, and wishing he could see him before he dies, for he knows he won't live long.

And then when paper and ink was brought, then Gawaine was set up weakly by King Arthur, for he was shriven a little to-fore; and then he wrote thus, as the French book maketh mention: Unto Sir Launcelot, flower of all noble knights that ever I heard of or saw by my days, I, Sir Gawaine, King Lot's son of Orkney, sister's son unto the noble King Arthur, send thee greeting, and let thee have knowledge that the tenth day of May I was smitten upon the old wound that thou gavest me afore the city of Benwick, and through the same wound that thou gavest me I am come to my death-day. And I will that all the world wit, that I, Sir Gawaine, knight of the Table Round, sought my death, and not through thy deserving, but it was mine own seeking; wherefore I beseech thee, Sir Launcelot, to return again unto this realm, and see my tomb, and pray some prayer more or less for my soul. And this same day that I wrote this cedle, I was hurt to the death in the same wound, the which I had of thy hand, Sir Launcelot; for of a more nobler man might I not be slain. Also Sir Launcelot, for all the love that ever was betwixt us, make no tarrying, but come over the sea in all haste, that thou mayst with thy noble knights rescue that noble king that made thee knight, that is my lord Arthur; for he is full straitly bestead with a false traitor, that is my half-brother, Sir Mordred; and he hath let crown him king, and would have wedded my lady Queen Guenever, and so had he done had she not put herself in the Tower of London. And so the tenth day of May last past, my lord Arthur and we all landed upon them at Dover; and there we put that false traitor, Sir Mordred, to flight, and there it misfortuned me to be stricken upon thy stroke. And at the date of this letter was written, but two hours and a half afore my death, written with mine own hand, and so subscribed with part of my heart's blood. And I require thee, most famous knight of the world, that thou wilt see my tomb. And then Sir Gawaine wept, and King Arthur wept; and then they swooned both. And when they awaked both, the king made Sir Gawaine to receive his Saviour. And then Sir Gawaine prayed the king for to send for Sir Launcelot, and to cherish him above all other knights. (Le Morte D'Arthur, Sir Thomas Mallory. book XXI, chapter II)

(vulgate IV, p139). honestly? no comment here. it speaks for itself. this bit is where the ship name remarkable comes from.

of course, this is by no means a comprehensive post, just moments i can remember off the top of my head. and a lot of this can be attributed to today's view of male homosociality and how it's changed since the middle ages, skewing our view of what could have been, by all means, a platonic relationship. however it is my personal belief and interpretation that they were in love <3 muah the end i hope you enjoyed. i tried my best to explain both story and cultural context the best i could without going into irrelevant detail...i hope this is enough!

[featguler]

hii your fics are written so well it’s captivating and beautiful!!

can u write sumn abt attempting to find out if the reader is single or available w kylian :)

heard the risk is drownin' ────── kylian is charging straight in.

♡ ────── pairing : kylian mbappé x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified, but they are described to be smaller than kylian. set in the cannes film festival; reader is a film scholar/film critic and is teaching at a university. reader doesnt have an insta sorry i gotta make this easy for me. kylian is down baaaaad he's also kind of assholeish here but he's also hot so idc. NOT PROOFREAD!! ♡ ────── wordcount : 1,277 ♡ ────── notes : this is such a cute request!! i love him so much, thank you for requesting this 🥺 disclaimer ive never been to cannes but i wish i have. this is a good luck one-shot for france tonight!! title based on risk by gracie abrams ♡ masterlist.

Kylian wants you.

It’s clear to see ever since a friend invited him to her private, directorial debut screening. Filled with pretentious film commentators, Kylian almost questioned his sanity in accepting this seemingly random invitation from a friend he knew from Catholic school over ten years ago.

Almost.

Almost, because you were the lighthouse that helped him navigate the mist that night. During dinner, you seemed oblivious to his superstar status, and initiate the conversation you shared with a fun and lighthearted question about his favorite movie.

“I didn’t know,” you laughed to yourself when he told you he was the Mbappè from 2018’s FIFA World Cup, “Sorry. I guess not everything revolves around films.”

Contrary to others in the revel, you were able to communicate in a way he understands—you didn’t sigh when revealed that he had never seen (heard of, even) a film you mentioned, and you were able to eloquently steer the course of your conversation in a way that is both enjoyable but also challenging for him.

Paired with the way your eyes twinkle under the dim lighting, just like that, he was in love.

And he wants you.

It’s simple for everyone that knows him to see. He repeats your name under his breath—the only thing he learned that night—and shakes his head when he recalls that he cannot find you anywhere.

He wants you. He wants you bad.

He thinks you’re cheeky. When he searches your name up on Google, all that came up were the papers you had written to contribute to multiple visual culture journals and books, or an article of a film you wrote published by a third party website from six months ago. No Instagram account, no Facebook account, no nothing.

Kylian tries asking his agent at least 50,000 times, but it’s not like his agent, or any sports agent for that matter, would have the connection to set him up with someone like you.

And he would ask fucking Clémentine, but she gatekeeps information about you like she is a shepherd clinging on her last dozen sheeps, leaving his messages on read and calls unanswered. Being Kylian Mbappè does not help him at all. Even being her friend does not help him at all.

He guesses that he could send you an email, but what’s attractive about that? He’s desperate, but not desperate in the sense that he would write an email on his iPad and send it to you like some kind of student hoping for a raise in grades. He’s a damn footballer. What he wants to do is take you out on a nice dinner before bringing you back to his house, not ask you to collaborate on an academic paper about film semiotics—or whatever these papers talk about.

And that leads us to today. Let's set the scene. 

The time: the first Saturday of the Cannes Film Festival 2024, first screening of the day; the place: the Cannes Film Festival, Cannes, France; and the characters: Kylian Mbappè Lottin, fucking Clémentine, and you.

Well, he doesn’t know where the fuck Clémentine is, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck where Clémentine is.

Somehow, he ended up finding a spot to sit to your right, and instead of taking in the highly anticipated work of a certain Greek director, Kylian leaned to place his cheek on a closed fist supported by his elbow against the arm rest, occasionally glancing to his left in hopes to get a glimpse of your eyes against the bright screen, testing in every crinkle on your face when a certain scene was shot in a way that amused you.

When will another one of such invaluable opportunities rise?

“So,” As soon as the standing ovation dies down and the theatre lights are turned back on, Kylian turns to you, starting a conversation. “What did you think?”

“Wonderful,” still dazzled, the smile remains etched on your lips. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, I swear.”

“Oh, wow.” he laughs, placing a palm against his mouth for a moment. “And I’m here thinking that you’ve seen more films than the average person.”

“Oh, yeah,” you nod, immediately catching up to his playful tone, “I’ve seen at least five movies.”

Quiet laughter is shared between the two of you, and Kylian feels a familiar, comfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. “So that makes this the sixth movie that you’ve watched?”

“In my entire lifetime, yes,” you giggle.

Kylian bites his lips before rubbing the side of his neck, for a short moment which he hopes you don’t notice the anxiety brewing within him. “Well, this is my first film, actually. So I was really excited to watch it.”

“Five more to go,” you notice everyone else beginning to stand up, patiently waiting for their turn to escape from their row and exit the theatre. “Then maybe you’ll have half the experience I do.”

The tone of your reply draws out another laugh from him.

Damn.

All he does is laugh when you are around. You must be the funniest person he’s ever met.

“So,” Kylian clears his throat when you stand, following your suit. “What’s your plan after this?”

“Clémentine and I are thinking of sharing a pizza down the street for lunch before returning for the 2 PM showing,” you shake the watch around your wrist before looking back at him with a dazzling smile. “What about you?”

“Clémentine?” Kylian muses, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”

“What’s with that face?” You begin walking behind the person before you, still somewhat facing him. “I’m sure. You must be busy.”

“Eh, it’s all just show. I got nothing to do most of the times,” he raises his shoulders with a grin. “Well, what’s after the 2 PM screening?”

“I’ve got papers to grade,” you sigh, feeling a slight chill when the summer breeze brushes over your skin the moment you both step outside the studio. You squint your eyes at the sun, turning to him. “Wish I could stay around longer, but I’ve got responsibilities.”

Kylian tilts his head, still smiling at you. “Yeah? I was actually thinking that I can take you out for dinner tonight.”

You blink, and turns your body so that you were fully facing him—only then do you realize how big he looks: his broad shoulders, the shape of his chest pressed under his thin shirt.

“Oh,” you stammer, taking a step back once you noticed how close you two are standing to each other. “I– uh, you know—”

“Responsibilities?” He asks with a light chuckle. “That’s fine. Another night?”

Kylian watches your pupils dilate, shifting to every single thing around you except for him, avoiding eye contact at all cost. “That’s very kind of you, it’s just—”

Then, it clicked on him.

“Oh,” he says with a furrow of his eyebrows, lips pressing into a frown. “Boyfriend?”

You clear your throat, and the nod you give him is timid, but it is a nod.

Kylian takes a deep breath, burying both his hands in his pockets, for a moment staring off into the distance, before turning back to you with a gentle smile.

“Then,” he closes the gap to you with a step, looking around for a moment, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “When you break up with him, let me know. I’d love to take you out for dinner.”

And casually, he straightens his back.

“I’ll see you around,” he laughs softly with a wink, raising his hand to wave at you as he walks away.

[queenlucythevaliant]

the stories are true

i. Caspian’s nurse told him a story about a dwarf and a talking badger who were best friends.

ii. As Dwarf and Badger returned from a long walk through the wood, Dwarf noticed that a button has fallen from his jacket. Dwarf and Badger retraced their steps in search of the missing button, and together they found five buttons, none of which were Dwarf’s. Dwarf grew angry (as Red Dwarves are wont to do), and eventually returned home in a rage, only to discover the missing button sitting on his threshold. In apology to Badger for the afternoon wasted (and for his temper), Dwarf sewed all six buttons they had found that day onto his jacket and gave it to Badger for a gift.

iii. Caspian did not understand what a talking badger would do with a dwarf’s jacket, but such mysteries of life were best left to grown-ups, like his nurse.

iv. She told him other stories too: centaurs that had conversations with the stars. Giants that built and guarded bridges. A naiad who made a basket of reeds so perfect that it could hold the wind. They were light, almost frivolous sorts of stories: the kind that make good sense to a child.

v. When Nurse left, there were no more stories. Caspian invented his own sometimes, and whispered them to himself while he played with his toys. When his aunt caught him at it, she struck him.

vi. Doctor Cornelius's stories were not like the ones Nurse had told. They were solemn, grand tales that sounded almost like they might have really happened. In his stories, there were two kings and two queens who ruled Narnia together.

vii. Caspian imagined King Peter like a high tower, all straight lines and immovable might. He knew better now than to tell the stories where he might be overheard, but at night he whispered them to himself as he sank into sleep. King Peter, who was like a tower, went off to fight the Giants in the north. Queen Lucy and King Edmund sailed over the sea on a ship to another country. The water was blue like the sky, and it glittered. Queen Susan kept a light burning at home.

viii. Part of Caspian was afraid of not telling the stories. They were like strangers’ hands reaching out to him in darkness. He was afraid of not reaching back, of letting those strangers fall away into the pitch black night.

ix. On the castle’s highest tower, Doctor Cornelius threw back his hood and declared himself the blood of Old Narnia. The stories are true, he said.

x. All of them? Caspian wanted to ask. What about the naiad's magic basket? If dwarves were real, then why shouldn't the old Kings and Queens be real too? And if King Peter was real—if his stone-heavy feet had really trod on Narnian earth— then why shouldn't every fanciful thing he'd ever heard be just as true too? It made Caspian giddy to think.

xi. The night Caspian’s cousin was born, he fled the court with Queen Susan’s horn hanging from his saddle. It made him think of lights in windows as he rode away from the only home he’d ever known.

xii. When he woke, he found himself gazing into the faces of Dwarf and Badger from his nurse’s stories. They were arguing over what to do with him, but Caspian thought, absurdly, are you missing any buttons today?

xiii. They went about the next day, issuing invitations to the Great Council on Dancing Lawn, and Caspian put out his hand to greet centaurs and fauns, talking Mice and talking Bears. Each one of them reached back. No wonder Caspian woke the next morning half-convinced he'd been dreaming.

xiv. King Peter was real too, and there was King Edmund at his elbow. Caspian greeted them, inclining his head and saying in a voice that only trembled a very little, "Your Majesty is very welcome," and it felt like carving his name on the bones of time.

xv. And soon he knew that King Peter really was a tower, facing Miraz with the kind of stalwart might that Caspian had been imagining for years. Queen Susan was a light in the window: her horn had called them all home.

xvi. And Aslan. Aslan. Wonder of all wonders, he was real too.

xvii. Caspian said farewell to Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy, and it felt like reaching out across the planes to a world he would never see, except for a few minutes— but that wouldn't be for many years yet.

xviii. In the end, Queen Lucy and King Edmund sailed over the sea on a ship to another country. King Caspian was with them.

[bejeweledblondie]

Peggy, The Pin Up

-

A/N: I apologize for being MIA I’ve had a lot of very great but time consuming things take over my life! I’ve started a 1940s vintage clothing blog & I’m shocked at how successful it has become. On top of that I’ve got promotions at work & it’s opened so many doors for me. I’m hoping to write a bit more!

Warnings: classic 1940’s sexism, mentions of nudity, female pronouns

Summary: Y/N never expected for her pin up prints to be put out… it causes some disruption on Abbott-Thorpe & one dark curly haired aviator comes to her rescue

It all happened on a Thursday morning at breakfast. Y/N sat there in her crisp white uniform shoveling the chalky yellow substance the army called eggs in her mouth. A dark shadow appeared above her plate & a magazine was plopped down in front of her.

“Don’t even try to deny it, this is you isn’t it?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Speechless she looked away & noticed that the Army’s shipment of Esquire hit the shelves. “God who knew? We knew you were a tease, but this is just another level.” He started. “Do you know what everyone says about you?” She shook her head shamefully, lying to herself. She had heard rumblings in the sick bay from time to time. Sometimes while fixing a patients IV bag or a even helping move a patient a hemline might rise causing a stir.

Before the pilot could continue his chauvinistic teasing session she immediately grabbed her belongings & swiftly exited. Little did she know a dark curly haired pilot was watching the torment happen. Due to rank he couldn’t intervene but oh he so badly wanted to bury the man six feet under. He had grown fond of the nurse, she was always so kind with his men. Incredibly soft spoken & nurturing when it came to the care she provided. He had walked in on her reading a copy of John Steinbeck’s, “Of Mice & Men” to the wounded pilots one evening. She didn’t have to do that, she could’ve been out dancing at the Officer’s Club. But she voluntarily chose to stay after her shift to read to them. He could tell the men greatly appreciated it too, it gave them a small window of comfort during an incredibly traumatic moment in their lives.

Douglass, also watching the debacle rolled his eyes & sipped his coffee.

“These men act like they’ve never seen tits before it’s insane.” He scoffed. Rosie almost choked on the toast he was eating.

“I mean some are freshly turned eighteen.” Blakely reminded him.

“Still, this is going to cause a huge fucking problem.” He swore. “Rosenthal, you okay?” Rosie had been staring off into the space during the duration of the conversation.

“Go to her,” Douglass sighed. “She may be oblivious but I’m not. You’ll also want to scoop her before someone like Egan does.” With that Rosie excused himself & started to head towards the medical ward. The sterile white environment contrasted heavily from the drab olive green darkness of the mess hall. Injured pilots laid in beds reading the paper, being fed their morning breakfast, or having their vitals taken. Valerie, a nurse he knew was friendly with Y/N was checking the vitals on a young sergeant.

“Val!” He said getting her attention & started over to her. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, she seemed a bit off,” She started. “She begged Major to allow her to just work in supply today. You might wanna try there.”

“Thank you.” Rosie replied & made his way to the supply room. There she stood sniffling & rolling gauze. Her eyes were clouded with a melancholy look as she completed the mundane task. He knocked on the door frame causing her to look up slightly startled.

“Oh Major Rosenthal it’s you,” She said with a slight tremble in her voice. “What can I do for you?” He cringed at her using his rank, usually it would make his blood pressure rise & heart race. But this circumstance was entirely different.

“I saw what happened in the chow hall,” He started. She’s started to wipe away tears. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He said wringing anxiously. She sighed deeply & looked away.

“I’ll be alright,” She stated. “I’m just going to lay low for a few weeks.” It broke his heart to see her this way. She was always a little jumpy & anxious to begin with. This situation just poured gasoline on a oil fire.

“No,” Rosie stated. “You shouldn’t let some asshole make you feel uncomfortable.” She stared him with big wide eyes. “If it makes you feel any better I’ll escort you places.” Her eyes softened as she listened to him. A small crimson warmth crept onto her cheeks at the mere mention of him escorting her.

After a few weeks, the heat died out about the pin up nurse. Rosie & Y/N had become closer over the weeks. His protection meant no one would even try to touch a hair on her head. From lingering touches, longing gazes, & of course Rosie sitting on her nightly readings to the wounded pilots. He (like every man on post who took a liking to her) did keep a copy of the pin up photo.

On missions he’d keep the folded piece of paper tucked into the pocket of his sheepskin. A reminder of what he was protecting & fighting for. His calloused thumb would graze over her innocent smile as he admired the image. Even in his bunk, he’d spend some alone time with it after everyone had fallen asleep. During one night after the pin up photo was brought up by a rookie pilot, & in turn making Y/N uncomfortable. Rosie knew he had to make her see what he saw in the photo. After some discussions with Ken Lemmons, he decided to really make sure he was reminded everyday was he was fighting for.

With hands covering her eyes he directed her to the airstrip.

“Rosie I can’t see!” Y/N giggled, tripping over her own feet. He chuckled at her natural clumsiness. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, you’re so impatient.” He said. He lead her right up the nose to his beloved bomber. “Okay now you can see.” With the removal of his hands & a adjustment to the sunlight she was staring at herself painted on the side of his bomber. The same pin up that graced Esquire months ago that brought them together. She gasped in pure shock at the artwork.

“Oh, Rosie.” She gasped unable to speak. “Did you paint this?”

“With a little help from Lemmons.” He replied. “I want you to see what I see. A beautiful woman. Do you like it?”

“I-wow,” She smiled. “I love it.” She turned around to face him. He was staring down her, admiring the way the sun light reflected off her hair. He brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lightly danced across her cheek bone as he stared adoringly into her eyes. He leaned down & placed a tender kiss onto her lips. She reciprocated & kissed back. Her arms wrapped around his neck & his slowly gravitated to her waist pulling her in closer. After pulling a part they rested foreheads against one another.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve always wanted to do that,” He admitted.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Petard, Part IV

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/03/rot-fungus-r-us/#a-hackers-gotta-eat

Last week's announcement that Trump's FCC was going to once again allow ISPs to bribe landlords to force you to use their service was easy to miss, amidst all the chaos:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2025/01/fcc-chair-nixes-plan-to-boost-broadband-competition-in-apartment-buildings/

But it sure got my attention, since that was the plot of "Petard," a techno-Lovecraftian sf story I wrote for Bruce Sterling's "Twelve Tomorrows" anthology for MIT Tech Review in 2014:

https://mitpress.mit.edu/9780262535595/twelve-tomorrows-2014/

Some years ago, I read it aloud for my podcast:

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_278

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_292

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_293

https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_294_-_Petard_04

I've been serializing the story in the last three editions of my newsletter, and I'm finishing it today.

Here's part one:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/30/landlord-telco-industrial-complex/#part-one

Here's part two:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/31/the-blood-speech/#part-two

Here's part three:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/01/miskatonic-networks/#part-three

And now, for the thrilling conclusion!

Kadijah didn't buy the coffee this time. And I bought my own banana bread.

"I met that Sergey dude," she said.

"Creepy, huh?"

She blew on her coffee. She drank it black. "Wicked smart, I think. And it looks like he's got your number."

Kadijah heard about the mass evictions through Ftp — she'd been watching our campaign carefully. When she messaged me, I assumed that she was outraged on all our behalf. She'd made an offer of free, uncensored connectivity for six months for everyone in the Termite Mound and everyone who'd been evicted. But she'd met Sergey? "He's scary, too," she said as an afterthought. "But scary-smart."

"He's a droid," I said. "He's reinventing high-speed trading. All he cares about is the code, and not the people it effects."

"A droid? Come on, no way. Evil, sure, but brilliant. World's full of evil landlords. When was the last time you met a smart one?"

I felt my cheeks getting hot. "Who cares how smart someone is, if he's a dick?" I couldn't quite bring myself to use the word "Evil."

"Dude. Smart is at least as important as evil."

I'd been taking Miskatonic as an existence proof of a part of the world that the rot-fungus had not yet colonized. But, afterward, I found myself turning our conversation over and over in my head. Yes, maybe she had offered all that great, free, uncensored Internet goodness because she was outraged by the dirty tricks campaign. But maybe she was doing it because she knew that appearing outraged would make her — and her company — seem like the kind of nice people that we should all give more money to. Maybe they don't give a damn about Ftp or fairness or eviction. Maybe it's just an elaborate game of soundbites and kabuki gestures that are all calibrated to the precise sociopathic degree necessary to convey empathy and ethics without ever descending into either. She hadn't bought the coffee or the banana bread.

It's easy to slip into this kind of metacognitive reverie and hard to stop once you start. Now I found myself questioning my own motives, scouring my subconscious for evidence of ego, self-promotion, and impurity.

The thing was.

The thing was.

The thing was that I had not ever met someone like Sergey before. Sergey, who'd shown me something glittering and cool and vast that waited for us to realize it and bring it to perfection. Sergey, who'd both understood the collective action problem and found it to be secondary, a thing to solve on the way to solving something bigger and more important.

Sergey's words had awoken in me a feverish curiosity, an inability to see the world as it had once been. And I hated the feeling. It was the sense that my worldview had come adrift, all my certainty calving off like an iceberg and floating away to sea. If you accepted Sergey's idea, then the human race was just the symbiotic intestinal flora of a meta-organism that would use us up and crap us out as needed. The global networks that allowed us to organize ourselves more efficiently were so successful because they let businesses run their supply-chains more efficiently, and all the socializing and entertainment and chatter were just a side-effect. Ftp was a mild pathogen, a few stray harmful bacteria in the colon of the corporate over-organism, and if it ever got to the point where it was any kind of real threat, the antibodies would show up to tear it to parts so it could be flushed away.

In other words, I was the rot-fungus. Everything I did, everything I'd done, was an infection, and not even a very successful one.

#

Christmas break arrived quicker than I'd have guessed. Bryan and his girlfriend had me over to their new place for dinner during the last week of classes. She was an elf, too, of course, and their place was all mossy rocks and driftwood and piles of leaves. The food was about what you'd expect, but it was better than the slurry I'd been gulping at my desk while I wrestled with my term-assignments and crammed for exams.

The Internet access at the Termite Mound was now uncensored, but I still found myself working at the lab. There was something comforting about being around my labmates instead of huddling alone in my dorm-room.

Bryan's girlfriend, Lana, was in mechanical engineering and she made some pretty great-looking mobiles, which dangled and spun around the tiny studio, their gyrations revealing the hidden turbulence of our exhalations. Every time I moved, I whacked one or another of them, making their payloads of mossy rocks and artful twigs clatter together. The floor was littered with their shed dander, which I took to be a deliberate act of elfy-welfy feng shui.

"So, how's things at the Termite Mound?" Bryan said, as we wound down over a glass of floral mead (this is pretty terrible, even by the standards of elf cuisine).

It was the question that had hung over the whole evening. After all, I'd cost Bryan his home and his job and had walked away Scot-free.

"Yeah," I said. "Well, the city and the university are both investigating MIT Residences LLC and it looks like they're going to be paying some pretty big fines. There was a class-action lawyer hanging around out front last week, trying to track down the old tenants who'd been turfed out. So there's going to be some more bad road ahead of them."

"Good," he said, with feeling. The expression of rage and bitterness that crossed over his face was not elfin in the slightest. It was the face of someone who'd been screwed over and knew he had no chance of ever getting back at his attackers.

"Yeah," I said again. The class-action guy had really been a gut-punch for me. Class-action was so old school, the thing that Ftp was supposed to replace with something fast, nimble, networked, and collective. Class-action was all about bottom-feeding lawyers slurping up the screwed-over like krill and making a meal of their grievances. Ftp let the krill organize into a powerful mass in its own right, with the ability to harness and command the predatory legal kraken that had once been its master. The fact that Ftp had managed to get us cheap, unfiltered broadband while this sleazeoid was proposing to actually skewer the great beast, straight through the wallet? It made me feel infinitesimal.

"But you're still there," he said. The place seemed a lot smaller. Bryan seemed a lot less elfin.

"Yeah," I said. "Don't guess they figure they can afford to evict me."

"That worked out well for you, then."

"Bryan," Lana said, putting her hand on his arm. "Come on. It's not Lukasz's fault those assholes are douchehats. He didn't make them fire you. It's –" She waved her hands at the mobiles, the walls, the wide world. "It's just how it is. The system, right?"

None of us said anything for a while. We drank our mead.

"Want to go vape something?" I said. There were lots of legal highs on campus. Some of them were pretty elfy, too. I wanted to blot out the world right then, which wasn't elfy, but we could all name our poisons.

I stumbled into the cold with them, in a haze of self-pity and self-doubt. The winter had come on quick and bitter, one of those Boston deep freezes the combined gale-force wind, subzero temperature and high humidity that got right into your bones. Too cold to talk, at least.

As we settled into crowd of vapers shivering in front of a brewpub, I heard a familiar voice. I couldn't make out the words, but the tones cut through the cold and the self-pity and brought me up short. I turned around.

"Hey, Lukasz," Sergey said. He was in the center of a group of five other guys, all vaping from little lithium-powered pacifiers that fit over their index fingernails, giving them the look of Fu Manchu viziers.

"Sergey," I said, getting up from our bench and moving away from Byran and Lana, suddenly not wanting to be seen in elfin company. "How's the hivemind?"

He looked over to Bryan and Lana in their layered furs, then back at me. He gave me a courtesy smile. "You'd be amazed at how well it's doing." The rest of the group nodded. I thought I recognized some of them. He closed the distance between us. "Going home for the holidays?" he asked in conspiratorial tones.

"Don't know," I said. I had some invites from my old hackerspace buddies to go on a little couch-trip, but whenever I contemplated it, I felt like a fraud. I hadn't said yes and I hadn't said no, but in my heart I knew I wouldn't be going anywhere. How could I look those people in the eye, knowing what I knew? Knowing, in particular, what a fraud I turned out to be?

"Well," Sergey said, leaning in a little closer. I could smell the vape on his breath, various long-chain molecules like a new-car smell with an undertone of obsolete tobacco. "Well," he said again. "There's an opening at the office. In the chaos monkey department. Looking for someone who can work independently, really knocking the system around, probing for weaknesses and vulnerabilities, pushing us out of those local optima."

"Sergey," I asked, the blood draining out of my face, "are you offering me a job?"

He smiled an easy smile. "A very good job, Lukasz. A job that pays well, and lets you do what you're best at. You get resources, paychecks, smart colleagues. You get to organize your Ftp campaigns, make it the best tool you can. We'll even host it for you, totally bulletproof expansible computation and storage. Analytics — well, you know what our analytics are like."

I did. I wondered what algorithm had suggested that he go out for a smoke at just that minute in order to be fully assured of catching me on the way home. The Termite Mound was full of cameras and other sensors, and it knew an awful lot about my movements.

A job. Money. Friends. Challenges. Do Ftp all day long, walk away from AA's lab and the fish-eyed games of the grad students. Walk away from my tiny dorm room. Become a zuckerbergian comet, launched out of university without the unnecessary drag of a diploma into stratospheric heights, become a name to conjure with. Lana and Bryan were behind me on the bench, and couldn't hear us, not at the whispers in which we spoke. But I was drug-paranoid sure that they could decipher our body language, even from behind the wall of synthetic psilocybin they had scaled.

I could have a purpose, a trajectory, a goal. Certainty.

To my horror, I didn't turn him down. A small part of me watched distantly as I said, "I'll think about it, OK?"

"Of course," he said, and smiled a smile of great and genuine goodwill and serenity. I waved goodbye to Bryan and Lana and headed back to the Termite Mound.

[jqmalikhsgib]

too sweet

six

yn was currently scrolling through her phone when she heard the alarm go off to her apartment. she turns and sees her fiancé with dustin before smiling.

eddie walks over to her and kisses her quickly. “hi, babe! what are you up to?”

“on pinterest looking at wedding ideas! i saw this wedding at this lovely winery, eds! it was so beautiful. i thought that could be an idea. have our wedding at some winery?”

“hmm? i don’t know baby. i talked to your grandparents and they are dead set on us having a church wedding. your grandfather talked to the pastor at the church you went to as a kid. he said he’d marry us.”

yn grandparents are highly religious people. she remembered having to go to church every wednesday and sunday. yn knew they would want them to have a church wedding, but yn didn’t want to be traditional.

sh also knew eddie wasn’t too religious. if yn was honest, neither was she. she just chose to not get too much into religion and focus on the now. yn didn’t want to think about the afterlife. she was alive and healthy! she chose to focus on life.

“eds, this is our wedding!” you walk over to him. he wraps his arms around your waist. “i know, baby. i just—i don’t want to disappoint your family. they’re gonna be mine too soon. i want them to continue to like me.”

yn smiles at his confession. she gently kisses him before speaking, “but don’t you want our wedding to be more, us?”

“i want it to be your dream wedding, baby.”

“it’s our wedding, eds! i want you to be involved just as much.”

“in that case, i do like the idea of a winery. i was also thinking less white, more black?”

“black wedding dress?! i love it!”

“yeah?”

“mhm, it’s definitely more eddie and yn, yeah?”

“exactly!”

yn kisses eddie passionately. she loved that he was now getting involved in their wedding. she didn’t want this to be about her. it was their wedding after all.

“eddie, we need to discuss your schedule and you two need to figure out when you’re gonna get married. ive been talking to your management, yn. we’re trying to figure out a good time for you two to start your ceremony without affecting your album releases.”

“back to work already, dustin? could you give me a moment with my fiancé first?”

“just doing my job, eddie!”

“ill be there in a minute, henderson!” eddie simply rolls his eyes at dustin before he focuses on yn once more.

“you should get going. you know how dustin gets when he’s in work mode.”

eddie grunts. “little shit works for me, not the other way around!”

“eddie!” dustin yells.

“im coming!”

yn giggles before eddie kisses her once more and walking towards the dining room area while yn goes back to making a mood board for their wedding.

yn and eddie were in the process of getting ready for bed. eddie was taking a shower while yn was brushing her teeth. when eddie gets out he wraps a towel around his waist.

he walks over to his fiancé and kisses her cheek. he grabs his own toothbrush and begins brushing his own teeth.

yn smiles lovingly at eddie. she still couldn’t believe they were engaged. this would be their lives forever. maybe with a few kids, bigger house, and a couple pets. the possibilities were endless. she just couldn’t wait to be misses eddie munson.

once eddie was done brushing his teeth he picks yn up. she squeals loudly. “eddie! you gonna put on your pajamas?”

eddie gently throws her on the bed. he shakes his head. he drops his towel and begins kissing her passionately.

“been missing you all day. dustin is a total cockblock.” eddie whispers in her ear.

“i agree. you looked amazing today! so tempted to tell him to fuck off a few times.”

“you should have!” eddie whispers in your ear. yn and eddie were all about taking their time normally. eddie loved worshipping her body. making sure every single inch felt love before he fucked her.

but right now, they didn’t wanna waste any time eddie was so glad she was just in her panties. he quickly pulls them off. he groans when he feels how wet she is before grabbing his cock as he fucks right into his fiancé.

“fuck! so big, baby.” she moans instantly.

“yeah?”

“you know you are, eds.”

“you can take it though, baby! you always take my cock so well. fuck, how are you this fucking wet?”

yn simply moans at that. she couldn’t really form any words. any time eddie fucks her like this, fast and hard, she could barely breath. eddie had barely touched her yet she felt like her body was gonna explode. her eyes were closed but she knew eddie loved eye contact. it wasn’t a surprise to her when he grabbed her face roughly. “look at me. need to see those pretty little eyes while i fuck you, yeah?”

yn stares at him intensely. eddie pulls all the way out of her before slamming right back in. “oh, fuck!”

“tell me, love, how good does it feel? feeling me deep inside your pretty little cunt, yeah?”

“feels so good, eds. best ever!”

“yeah? god i love your pussy, baby. it was made just for me, i swear!”

“all yours.”

eddie grunts at that. “my pussy, huh?”

“yes!”

“say it then, baby! need to hear you say it.”

“it’s yours, eds. your pussy! claim it, please?” yn cried out.

eddie fucks into her over and over until he grunts. he cums inside of her as she holds onto him tightly. she didn’t mind not getting off. she just loved the feeling of eddies cum inside her.

“fuck! m’sorry baby. just felt so fucking good.”

“it’s okay, eds. just wanted your cum anyway.” she smirks.

eddie chuckles as he kisses the top of her sweaty head. “yeah? want to have a mini munson already, huh?” eddie jokes. he knew she was on birth control.

“soon, baby. wanna be your wife first.”

eddie grins. “two more months, baby.”

“two more months.”

yeah this wasn’t suppose to be smut or even this short but im horny and i needed some type of eddie smut in my life!!

i hope you enjoyed, though!

[teyamskxawng]

In Heat [VII]

Lo'ak Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI

The rundown: After months of courting, you and Lo’ak finally make Tsaheylu.

Warnings: 18+ content, language, mention of reader's deceased parents, smut, characters are aged up, minors do not interact!! please

WC: 12.2k

A/N: This can surprisingly be read separate from the rest of the fic if you stumble across this and don’t wanna read the six prior chapters lol!! Thank you to anyone who’s been reading from the beginning, ily and I wanna give you flowers <3 this chapter was funnn + heavily inspired by the 2009 film

*4 months later*

With your eyes gently shut, you let yourself immerse in the soothing touch of your parents' heartfelt embrace. Cradled in their loving arms, you could almost believe they were actually in front of you, as if the RDA hadn't ruined your life and stolen them from you over half a decade ago. Slowly letting your eyes blink open, you took in the beautiful sight of their overjoyed expressions.

Throughout the years, you prioritized visiting your departed parents at the Tree of Souls every few days. But today's meeting was especially significant. It wasn't until today that you finally gathered the courage to tell them about your new relationship with Lo'ak.

Procrastination had been your ally in this matter, as you were well aware of how soul-crushing it would be to watch their delightful smiles and hear their excited words of praise and encouragement, knowing all too well that their appearances were a mere illusion. 

Eywa knows Mo'at would have your ear if she ever heard you speak down on the cultural significance of connecting with your ancestors through the tree. But still, you were all too aware that your parents couldn’t physically be with you, nor could they experience the joyous moments brought about by each milestone in your new relationship with Lo'ak.

Which was why you knew that engaging in the sensitive conversation with them would be like pouring salt on a still-open wound. Their presence felt so tangible, but deep down, reality weighed on your heart.

Your parents would never have the chance to meet Lo'ak—at least not as the version of the man he had grown into since your parents last knew him as your young, rambunctious friend.

He had changed so much since then, and they would never see the person he had become. Lo'ak was now mature and full of wisdom, but he still possessed those endearing quirks that only grew more captivating with time. Your parents didn't have the chance to give their blessing to your union, and you wouldn't get to witness their reluctant smiles give way to roaring laughter as they’d have watched Lo’ak’s spirited attempts to impress them.

Probably most heartbreaking of all, they wouldn't ever have the chance to watch their future grandchildren scamper around in sheer delight, growing up before their very eyes.

It was funny how life worked. Throughout your entire childhood, there were so many questions swirling around your mind—questions you’d always wanted to ask your parents but never got the chance to. You were too young, too innocent, and just too damn content in your blissful ignorance to even fathom the reality that one day your parents would be snatched away from you in what seemed like the blink of an eye. 

There were so many things left unsaid and unexplored. Among the questions crowding your thoughts was their connection, their unyielding love.

How did they know when it was time to leave their separate lives behind and commit to a shared existence?

It wasn’t just idle curiosity; you found yourself in a similar situation with Lo’ak. You loved him more than anything, and spending a lifetime together seemed inevitable. It was just a question of when and how the fuck you were supposed to approach that kind of topic.

Neytiri and Jake would've undoubtedly shed some light on your burning inquiries. They'd been there, done that, and would have happily guided you through the somewhat awkward yet endearing conundrum with honest advice. However, you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that clouded your judgment every time you considered confiding in them about their own son. It was just... weird. There was something too personal about it, making it feel less like asking for genuine wisdom and more like prying into an intimate family matter. They were Lo'ak's parents, not yours.

So, plagued by unanswered questions, you made the impulsive decision to reach out to your parents now that their spiritual presence stood before you.

“How did you know when it was the right time to make Tsaheylu?” you asked, full of uncertainty and curious desire. “I want to... I'm just...” Your voice faltered, the words stumbling and eventually fading away like a sad, distant echo. 

Your mother, sensing your unease, gently cradled your face in her warm hand. Her touch was so delicate; it felt like the brush of a feather, like a figment in the corner of your imagination. Probably because she was, quite literally, nothing more than a figment in the corner of your imagination.

“You will know when the moment is right, tìyawn,” she said with an air of soft reassurance that only a mother could provide. 

However, you couldn’t escape the persistent, nagging feeling in your chest.

The thing was, you had no idea when the right time to become mated to Lo'ak would come. Shaking your head in denial, you tried to convey your confusion without words.

That was when your father chimed in, his voice powerful yet soothing as ever.

“Eywa works in unspeakable ways. Always know that she will take care of you.”

Your father always spoke in tongues, offering words of wisdom wrapped in perplexing phrases. His words should have comforted you—they'd done so countless times before, providing you with food for thought that would last for days on end, giving you at least something to remember him by.

But today? Today, they only served to fuel a mounting sense of frustration inside you.

Unspeakable ways, your ass. The sky people killed your parents. They left you an orphaned child, alone and afraid in a world that would never be the same.

“Then why did Eywa take you away from me? Why would she leave me to fend for myself, all alone?” You shouted, no longer able to prevent the dam of emotions from bursting free. It was so unfair.

An overwhelming sensation bubbled up inside you as angry tears began to gather in your eyes. Your parents’ faces grew hazy, and your vision blurred. 

"You are never alone." Your father's voice interrupted your wave of sadness, his brow furrowing in confusion. He reached out and placed a reassuring hand on the top of your head, his thumb softly grazing your temple. “See? We are right here, maite,” he laughed.

The chime of his laughter was so beautiful, so familiar, and you hated that it wasn't real.

Unable to maintain eye contact with your blissfully unaware parents, you swiveled your head away and barely managed to stifle a heart-wrenching sob. This was exactly why you were so weary of approaching such a sensitive topic with your parents' spirits.

Under normal circumstances, during your connection with the Tree of Souls, you easily juggled your emotions and kept things lighthearted—happy and bittersweet. But this time, the pain proved to be too overwhelming, too raw.

“I miss you both so much,” Your voice trembled as the words barely escaped your lips. Filled with grief and longing that seemed to almost strangle your voice, the words hung heavy in the air before dissipating like a delicate mist.

The comforting warmth of your mother's hand slowly receded from your cheek, and the protective touch of your father's hand slipped from your head as you were slowly pulled away from them into a sea of darkness.

As you reluctantly allowed your eyes to flutter open again, you found yourself back in reality, with the Tree of Souls standing majestically before you, adorned with its glowing pink vines. The bittersweet sensation of tears silently carved their way down your cheeks as you disconnected from the tree, gravity dropping your queue against your front with a soft thud. You couldn't even bring yourself to swipe the trail of snot from your nose. You felt numb.

Returning to reality always felt like emerging from a nightmare, with each haunting detail stubbornly clinging to the edges of your consciousness.

Next to you stood Lo’ak, detaching his tswin from an adjacent vine. He was quick to register the pain etched across your face, and with two long strides, he closed the gap between you both. Before you could even process what was happening, he gathered you into his arms, nestling your head securely under his chin.

He rubbed soothing circles into your back, deep enough to release your tension but gentle enough not to overwhelm you, all while whispering calming words into your ear.

“It’s okay, y/n,” he assured you softly. “You’re okay. I’m right here.”

In the sanctuary of Lo’ak’s strong arms, you continued to tremble, seeking solace as you struggled to regain control of your breathing.

Despite your inner turmoil, you felt an overwhelming sense of security enveloping you like a warm blanket with every tight squeeze of Lo’ak’s comforting embrace. As his arms continued to encircle you, providing solace unlike any other, it gradually became easier to control your shaky breaths. Lo'ak seemed to possess a natural ability to right the wrongs in your life, even when everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

Your thoughts drifted back to the gut-wrenching period following your parents' unexpected deaths. You remembered how deeply that pain had cut, how lost you were in those dark days. Their absence left a deep void in your soul that threatened to swallow you whole.

Back then, in an attempt to cope with your insurmountable grief, you recklessly flung yourself headlong into your warrior training. You ignored the cautious pleas of Jake and Neytiri, who urged you to take a step back from all the violence that suddenly consumed your life. They wanted you to confront the depths of your sorrow and allow yourself time to grieve and heal properly, but their words fell on deaf ears.

You remembered how you stubbornly demanded that Jake let you back onto the training field. You were so intent on becoming the strongest version of yourself so that you could wreak absolute havoc on the RDA and avenge your parents.

And much to Jake's chagrin, you were back on the field just two days later, paired up with Lo’ak for combat training. But Lo'ak wasn’t just another trainee; he was your best friend, and he knew better than anyone that your emotional state was barely hanging by a thread.

When the training started, you swung fiercely at Lo'ak. You were relentless in channeling every ounce of emotion into your powerful strikes, trying to purge the pain from within. You attacked with everything you had, but he refused to strike back. Instead, he sidestepped each of your advances and dodged every one of your hits. At every turn, Lo’ak kept pleading with you to take a break, urging you to take a deep breath and find some other way to let go of all the anger you were holding inside.

But his words only fueled your rage. 

His emotional appeal made you feel more out of control and increased your resolve to vent all those pent-up sentiments. You swung harder and faster at him, trying your best to land a solid hit, irrationally hoping it would somehow free you from your emotions.

Finally, after countless attempts, you managed to cuff Lo'ak hard on the jaw, causing him to stumble back and stare at you wide-eyed in shock. You took full advantage of his momentary bewilderment, managing another sharp hit to his nose. As your fist retracted from its solid connection with his face, it was marred with the dark red stain of his blood. Your stomach churned at the sight, but the part of you that was so angry with the world and all of its inhabitants was relentless.

There you were, standing in front of Lo’ak, fed up with everyone treating you like some delicate little flower. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Come on, Lo’ak! Hit me back!” you yelled at him, your voice echoing off the surrounding trees. The frustration had been building inside you for days, and you finally reached your boiling point. Everyone seemed to tiptoe around you as if you were a grenade, ready to go off at any moment.

Lo’ak stood in front of you, his face etched with concern. He looked into your eyes with a mixture of pity and sympathy—not at all what you wanted.  

“y/n...” he began hesitantly, shaking his head at what could only be described as the shadow of your former self, but his words fell on deaf ears. His refusal to engage only served to fuel your anger even further.

In an act of blind frustration, you pushed him hard in the chest with both of your hands, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction beyond pity.

You didn’t want his sad eyes. You wanted him to feel your fury and understand how tired you were of everything. But much to your disappointment, Lo’ak barely even stumbled from your forceful shove. You moved to shove him again, but in that moment of pure emotion, he reached out and caught hold of your forearms, his grip gentle but firm enough to hold you in place. You tried desperately to pry yourself from his grasp, hissing, scratching, and doing everything in your power to swing at him.

As much as you wanted to best him physically, it was all in vain.

Realizing just how futile your fight truly was, you felt a wave of despair crash down on you. Just like that, all the fire went out of your fight.

Exhausted and defeated, your body went limp in his arms. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder as tears welled up in your eyes—a crushing conclusion to the emotions you had been holding in for way too long. 

Lo’ak slowly released his grip on your forearms, sensing your vulnerability. He hesitated for a moment before carefully wrapping his arms around your fragile, bony frame, a heart-wrenching reminder of the fact that you hadn’t been eating properly or taking care of yourself since the loss of your parents. Despite your frailty, Lo’ak held you just tight enough to keep you steady while providing a comforting presence as tears streamed down your face. You were a wreck, crying and snotting messily into his shoulder, but you didn't have the mental capacity to care.

In times like these, words seemed to fail Lo'ak. But that was perfectly fine with you.

You didn't want him to lie and try to tell you that your parents would be missed, that they were in a better place now. You'd already heard enough of that bullshit, and it didn't help at all. So you were thankful when Lo'ak began to silently trace soothing lines up and down your back with one hand while the other cradled your head against his shoulder.

Your breaths came in short, rapid gasps between each of your sobs—hyperventilating from the emotional turmoil—and normally, you would have been mortified to be so helpless in front of your best friend. But with the weight of the world on your shoulders and an overwhelming sense of exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave, embarrassment was the least of your concerns. 

All semblance of decorum and composure abandoned, it felt as though everything would come crashing down upon you at any moment. You felt like you were about to pass out with how drained you were, how tired you were of everything.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright, y/n. Just breathe with me, please. We can count together, okay? Just—one… two….” Lo’ak was doing everything in his power to comfort you as you stood there, struggling to regain your composure.

Despite his efforts, though, your sobs were impossible to ignore. They echoed throughout the forest, eventually grabbing the undivided attention of Jake, who had been keeping an eye on some of the other trainees around the corner.

Jake immediately sprinted over to investigate, concern etched across his face. As he approached you and Lo’ak, his wide eyes softened at the sight of you two.

Without uttering a word, Jake gently nudged his head in the direction of Hometree—a silent signal for Lo’ak to get you the hell out of the chaotic environment of the training grounds and take care of you. Jake knew that what you really needed was some peace and quiet to heal.

Following his father’s advice, Lo’ak remained silent as he took your hand in his and began guiding you back toward the refuge of your late family’s tent.

You and Lo’ak never held hands like that—there was never a reason to—but in that instance, it felt natural and comforting.

The warmth of Lo’ak’s touch seemed to spread throughout your entire body, providing an odd sense of comfort despite your emotional distress. As your heart pounded against your chest with each step you took together, it became increasingly clear that the simple yet incredibly meaningful gesture would be forever etched into both of your memories.

Lo’ak guided you through the forest landscape, bathed in the early evening's bioluminescent light, until finally, the view of Hometree dominated the horizon. Silently, carefully, Lo’ak led you along the path to your family's tent.

Lo’ak understood that it wasn’t about physical or even emotional support in just that singular moment—it was about standing beside you as a friend through life’s darkest chapters and refusing to leave you alone in facing such overwhelming shadows. And as much as he could feel the ache gripping every fiber of your being, he knew that together, you could slowly start rebuilding, piece by piece. After all, friends faced the storms together and remained standing side by side when everything else had passed. 

And for the first time since the death of your parents, you felt a sense of safety that you never thought you’d feel again.

As Lo’ak gently led you through the opening of your tent, his comforting grip still holding your hand, you finally understood that your idea of “home” had shifted. It wasn’t bound by the walls of a tent; instead, it was embodied by Lo’ak himself. As long as he was by your side, everything would be okay.

The scene inside your home was etched permanently in your mind—you curled in a ball on the floor beside Lo’ak, your head resting on the makeshift pillow formed from his folded legs. His fingers tenderly brushed through the unkempt wisps of hair near your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing you to concentrate on the soothing sounds around you: the rhythmic sound of Lo’ak’s steady breaths and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his lungs filled with air and released it back into the quiet world.

You felt his chest expand and contract beneath you, almost seeming to synchronize with your own breathing. The sublime connection created a shared heartbeat between you two in that tranquil space. Time appeared to stand still as silence enveloped the both of you, like Eywa herself was holding her breath to preserve the pure moment of peace.

It was in that quiet instance that you realized how perfectly you fit together��how well he held you, protecting your fragile heart while offering solace and strength in equal measure. Lo’ak’s presence reassured you over and over again: everything was going to be okay.

And likewise, now nestled safely within the circle of Lo’ak’s strong arms beneath the Tree of Souls, you were reminded once more that together, you would be okay.

“I love you,” you whispered against Lo’ak’s skin, almost in a daze, yet every word held immense sincerity. 

You had loved Lo’ak as he comforted you all those years ago, and your love for him had never wavered—it burned just as brightly as it did back then. He was the anchor that tethered you to the world around you, his presence a comforting constant in the ever-changing tides of life. You cherished everything about him, from the gentle warmth that emanated from his touch to the familiarity of his laughter as you would relentlessly tease each other.

There wasn’t a single thing about him you would change—he wouldn’t be Lo’ak if you did.

Your heartfelt confession seemed to catch him completely off guard. It was as if someone had pressed pause on a video on one of Jake’s holo-pads, his entire being coming to a sudden standstill. He pulled away from your embrace, just enough to look down into your eyes. The desperation on his face only grew as he sought some kind of validation, some confirmation that what you said was real, that it wasn’t just some figment of his imagination.

You met his gaze, completely sure of yourself. There was no doubt in your mind regarding the depth of emotion behind those three simple words that had slipped from your lips. There was no trace of embarrassment or regret clouding your expression when you confessed your love for Lo’ak.

He simply stared back at you, wide-eyed and speechless, his gaze searching your face. He was just waiting for you to break out into a smirk, to let out a snort of laughter, to flick him in the forehead and say, “Just kidding, dumbass.” 

But that moment never came. Instead, there you were, open-hearted and genuine, with all the unspoken emotions now laid bare between the two of you, raw and unfiltered.

You watched as Lo’ak’s gaze shifted to the right. You remained clueless as he was captivated by the sudden, enchanting sight of a flurry of woodsprites fluttering closer and closer to the two of you. Their tiny arms reached out, almost as if they were cheering you on, creating an atmosphere of wonder and delight.

Unaware of the spectacle unfolding behind you, your attention was drawn to Lo’ak’s face. Curiously, you tried to decipher his expression. You were kind of expecting him to say he loved you back, not stare gobsmacked above your head.

Lo'ak watched as one by one, the delicate woodsprites began to land on your head with the grace of a feather. The first one settled softly on your crown, followed by another... and another, each seeking its own perch on your head. Soon, at least a dozen of them had landed there, each adding to your iridescent halo that glowed like a luminous headpiece. As the radiant display enveloped you, it only enhanced your beauty further.

The once-overwhelming confusion in your eyes slowly gave way to a dawning look of amazement as you caught sight of the enchanting flurry that had piqued Lo’ak’s interest out of the corner of your eye.

The air was thick with anticipation as you watched the woodsprites gather around the two of you with bated breath. Their movements were graceful and full of energy as they happily flurried around before finally settling on Lo’ak’s shoulders in an almost comically straight line. 

It was impossible to ignore the significance of the incredible moment. 

The tiny seeds that detached themselves from the Tree of Souls were known to carry omens and symbolize sacred moments in one’s life. You knew in your heart that this was Eywa. She was speaking to you, giving you a sign. As always, your father was right.

You glanced over at Lo’ak, curious to see if he was comprehending the gravity of the moment just as much as you were. Sure enough, the expression on his face mirrored your understanding and awe. His stunned gaze flickered from your face to his arms, which were extended out to his sides and covered in dozens of brightly glowing woodsprites. An unspoken understanding passed between the two of you, cementing the mysterious but profound connection shared at that moment.

Just as suddenly as they had arrived, the woodsprites detached themselves from both your bodies and floated away. They retreated gracefully back to their home within the glowing heights of the Tree of Souls. 

You followed their ascent with your eyes, craning your neck to keep them in sight for as long as possible, completely captivated by their presence.

An indescribable wave of joy surged through your body, electrifying and tingling every inch of your being. It was an overwhelming feeling of peace that engulfed you entirely and left a deep sensation of gratitude within your soul.

You were admittedly caught off guard as Lo’ak’s hand gently cradled your cheek. His touch was deliberate yet tender, guiding your face to meet his gaze. As his hand continued its journey, it slid from your shoulder and traveled down your arm before finally intertwining with yours, almost instinctively. A warm smile graced your lips as the feeling of your fingers meshing together felt as natural as the first time you had done so all those years ago.

“I love you too, y/n. So much,” Lo’ak confessed, his words effectively snapping you back to reality. Your smile broadened in response to his heartfelt declaration, trying to contain the overwhelming emotions that filled you from within.

The atmosphere around you was electric with love, and with a playful snort, you couldn’t help but tease: “I think that was Eywa telling us to hurry up.”

At that moment, all of your worries seemed to evaporate. You felt light and carefree and overcome with happiness. You felt so in love. The intensity of emotion that flooded through you needed release. It compelled you to take action.

Reaching out for Lo’ak once more, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him close, eliminating any space that separated the two of you. You were living in an idyllic moment, one where time seemed to stand still and nothing else mattered but the love you shared.

For a few moments, you both embraced one another tightly, allowing yourselves to take steady breaths. 

It was almost as if your breathing was synchronized, which caused your mind to drift in curiosity. You wondered if this was what the bond would feel like—like your souls were so intricately woven together that it was nearly impossible to separate the two of you into individual beings.

As those thoughts swirled in your head, you tenderly rubbed your cheek against Lo’ak’s, reveling in his warmth and soaking in every detail of his closeness to you. His unique scent enveloped you—herbal and musky and sweet—further entwining the two of you in an enchanting dance of passion and love. 

The very essence of him consumed your senses, and you felt like you could just forget the world and drown in his intoxicating scent, the tenderness of his touch, and the sheer intimacy of the shared moment.

In response to your affection, Lo’ak released a contented noise that very much resembled that of a soft purr, and you let out a breath of laughter at both the noise and the immediate blush that spread across Lo'ak's face as he tried to play it off. 

Quick to quiet your snickers, Lo’ak let out a quiet “Shh,” but you could feel the corners of his lips against your face as they curled into a smile that mirrored your own happiness.

Feigning innocence while still keeping your voice low and full of tenderness, you replied with a delicate whisper, “I didn’t say anything.”

Like the overgrown child that he is, Lo'ak only squeezed you tighter around the waist and mocked you in an overly high-pitched voice. "I didn't say anything," he parroted. You couldn't even bring yourself to pretend to be annoyed. You were way too proud of how easily you could reduce him to purrs.

You continued showering Lo’ak with your love by alternately brushing your cheek over his and planting a series of little kisses all across his face, effectively shutting him up.

It was as though each kiss held its own message—a reminder that you loved him beyond measure. You wanted him to absorb every ounce of the adoration you poured into those delicate kisses.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, exploring the well-known paths that traced the curves and definition of the muscles hidden beneath his skin. The affectionate and almost habitual gesture seemed to serve as a call to action. It was like a spark that ignited an unspoken understanding between the two of you. 

At that moment, you were acutely aware of how desperately you needed Lo’ak, how you longed for him to be even closer to your heart and soul, to be one with your body. 

You told him as much, whispered your desires into the shell of his ear.

As you pulled back to gaze into Lo’ak’s eyes, you immediately noticed his pupils dilated with anticipation, the same way they’d always get whenever you were about to fuck. Without hesitation, Lo’ak wrapped his arms around your middle and drew you toward him, his lips hungrily connecting with yours in a searing kiss. He almost missed your mouth altogether with the intensity with which he sought out your whispered offering.

Your hands tenderly rose upward to cradle the back of Lo’ak’s head as you licked into his mouth, savoring each delicious slide of your tongue against his own. Your tail swung eagerly behind you, unable to hide your mounting excitement. The soft tuft of dark hair at its end seemed to possess a mind of its own as it brushed against Lo’ak’s side—a physical manifestation of the magnetic pull drawing you even closer to him.

You practically drank him in, fully immersed in the intoxicating sensation of your lips fusing with his in a wondrous, familiar rhythm. 

As the gentle breeze danced around you, you willingly let Lo’ak guide you down onto the cushiony grass, your back sinking into its soft embrace. You let him mouth his way down the length of your neck, his warm breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. 

Barely audible, he grumbled into your throat, “Love you,” once more. His voice was heavy with emotion, and the raw sincerity in his voice stirred an overwhelming wave of emotion within you.

Lo’ak’s tender affections continued to unravel the edges of your composure. You felt completely undone. You were sure there was no way that all he had done so far was kiss you. With your eyes closed and your senses heightened, you could feel every tender touch as he grazed his teeth over your pulse point and delicately trailed his fingers up the expanse of your legs as if tracing a map; his touch simultaneously commanding and gentle.

As he let his fingers roam further up your thighs, he paused to appreciate the softness of your skin, gently squeezing the supple flesh before tracing teasing lines along the innermost part of your legs. His thumbs gently brushed against the sensitive skin there, sending tingles throughout your body like electric sparks. Between each lingering touch, your breaths grew shallow in anticipation.

Stubbornly, he maintained a small distance between your bodies, refusing to give in and press up against you even though you were desperate for it. You shamelessly keened for it, tried to push your hips up to meet him. You wanted to feel him inside of you, and judging by the strain against his loincloth, he wanted to be inside you just as badly. But Lo’ak was such a little shit.

He relished taking his sweet time with you, deliberately drawing out each moment as he explored your body, teasing you for so long until you were nothing but a pliant wreck under his touch. He always prioritized your pleasure above everything else, which was simultaneously frustrating and endearing.

Lo’ak continued working his tantalizing magic on your skin, his fingers hovering so close, yet never quite reaching the spot where you so desperately needed him. It was maddening and exhilarating how meticulous he could be. The dance between agony and ecstasy left every part of you desperate for more. You wanted to scream in frustration.

Attempting to gather your resolve, you meant to firmly call out “Lo’ak,” but instead, it escaped your lips as more of an anguished, pleading moan.

Lo’ak didn’t seem to mind at all, only humming in response as he continued his passionate onslaught. Leaving a fiery trail of burning kisses, he started at your throat and made his way down your collarbone, stopping to linger at your sternum before continuing his journey over the fabric covering your chest. And you immediately came to the conclusion that the extra barrier of material just wouldn’t do.

You swiftly sat up to remove your top, so suddenly that you almost smashed Lo’ak in the face with your elbow in the process. But with your chest now bare to him, you decided that you might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Efficiently eliminating the need for any further interruptions, you hastily reached down and loosened the knot holding up your loincloth just enough for you to slide it over your hips and down past your legs, mindlessly tossing the garment to the side amidst the tall blades of grass. You were sure that you were going to have to spend an embarrassing amount of time trying to find it once all was said and done, and Lo'ak was definitely going to laugh at you the entire time and not help you look for it, but that was the last thing on your mind at that moment.

No matter how many times Lo’ak had seen you in that state of undress before, his astonishment and awe remained fresh and unperturbed each time. He had the same awestruck reaction, his eyes wide in admiration as if he were beholding some rare and precious treasure. Lo’ak’s face revealed a myriad of emotions as his eyes traveled over every inch of your frame, the corners of his mouth curving into a small, affectionate grin. 

You found yourself rolling your eyes at his display, all while secretly delighting in how he never failed to worship your body without reservation. His presence had a unique way of making you feel at ease, even in your most vulnerable state.

Taking his time, Lo’ak’s gaze didn’t meet yours until he had thoroughly feasted upon the sight before him. 

His soft voice whispered into the air, “You’re so beautiful.” Then, with renewed determination, he resumed his quest to leave you completely breathless and speechless, planting tender kisses against your now-bare chest.

His hands meandered their way back to the curve of your waist, securing your writhing form to the ground as if to ensure you couldn’t escape from the captivating hold he had on you. With heightened anticipation and growing desire, Lo’ak slowly roamed his hands upward to trace the delicate curves of your breasts.

Lo’ak somehow intertwined the perfect balance of fervor and tenderness in each of his actions while meticulously extinguishing any ability for words or coherent thought. It was like straight-up mush in your brain. You were swept up in the whirlwind of sensation that he created with such exquisite attention to detail, every touch enhancing the emotional connection between you. 

It was in these moments where time seemed to slow down and reality faded away, that Lo’ak awakened a deeper connection within your soul—one built on trust, admiration, and an ineffable love that left you completely at a loss for words.

“So fucking perfect,” Lo’ak murmured, allowing the gentle pressure of his thumbs to glide across your sensitive nipples, already hardened into little buds from all the ongoing stimuli.

You let out a soft moan in response to Lo’ak’s continual praise, which seemed to envelop you like a warm, comforting ray of light. There was no doubt in your mind that you trusted Lo’ak with all your heart. He always knew how to make you feel so good every single time, without fail.

And as he began his tantalizing journey of sweet kisses, starting at your chest and gradually trailing lower and lower along the trembling lines of your stomach, you felt an exhilarating anticipation building within you. 

He made his way down to your already-wet center, and all you could do was sink your head further into the ground beneath you, exhaling his name in a breathy whisper.

The sensation of Lo’ak’s delicate touch combined with the warmth of his breath gently sweeping over your core caused a shiver to resonate throughout your entire being. He gently spread your legs apart even further, comfortably positioning himself between them before diving in without any hesitation.

Lo'ak knew exactly how to reduce you to moans, and this time was no different. He shamelessly loved eating you out. His enthusiasm for doing so became apparent from the very first time you let him go down on you. You figured it must’ve been fate because, as much as the boy loved to talk, he transformed into something utterly irresistible whenever his mouth descended upon you—each tantalizing lick into your wetness and gentle prod of his tongue at your entrance made you feel like you were going to lose your mind.

He loved the way you’d go all soft under his touch, practically melting beneath his skilled tonguework. He reveled in the sensation of your legs wrapping around him, curling over his shoulders as your ankles crossed snugly behind his neck, the way your thighs tightened around his head each time he circled his tongue around your clit. Your body couldn’t help but respond to his every touch.

Lo’ak loved the noises you made. It was as if you were unable to contain yourself or the stream of moans and curses that would slip past your lips, bitten red from trying (and always failing) to keep quiet.

He especially loved it when, seemingly without realizing it, you’d reach out and bury your fingers within his braids, grinding yourself against his face because you couldn’t stand how teasingly slow he was going.

The first time Lo’ak went down on you, all it took was a few mindless ruts against the soft forest floor before he was groaning into your wetness, coming in powerful spurts inside his loincloth—all without being touched.

And now, as Lo’ak enveloped you once again in his teasing embrace, skillfully flicking his tongue in a wet stripe up your center before zeroing in on the sensitive nub at your front, you felt as entirely blissed out as he did during that first time.

As Lo’ak continued his deliciously tormenting work, exploring every contour with practiced devotion, you found yourself powerless against the rising tide of euphoria.

He’d barely been at it for more than a minute or two before you could sense the rising tension within your core and the trembling of your legs—telltale signs of your impending climax.

But you didn’t want to finish like that. Given the tender, emotional exchange of words you’d experienced together for the first time, you wanted to finish as one, harmoniously intertwined in a mutual dance of ecstasy.

You needed Lo’ak inside of you, so close that he could never leave, so deeply intertwined with you that it would be impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. It wasn’t merely about physical closeness; it was about forging a new kind of bond with Lo'ak.

To make Tsaheylu was to embrace a wholly different plane of affection. It was all-consuming and intense. The very idea of forming that neural connection with Lo'ak—sharing in his experiences and emotions, savoring every conceivable sensation together—left your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

As soon as that thought took shape in your mind, there was no turning back. You had set your heart on truly becoming one with Lo’ak—inseparable and forever bound together by love, entwining your lives like the intricate patterns woven into a delicate tapestry.

“Mmm, Lo’ak,” you called out tentatively, your voice wobbly from both the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body and the mere thought of finally making the bond with Lo’ak. 

However, Lo’ak seemed to interpret your call of his name as a sign of your continued pleasure, which wasn't entirely false.

He practically doubled his efforts as he increased the intensity with which he went down on you, slurping loudly and adding a finger that tenderly brushed against your clenching hole.

Your reaction was instinctive—a barely audible curse slipping past your lips as you inhaled sharply, just barely catching yourself before losing control completely. Frantically, you reached out and tugged on Lo’ak’s braids, using them as an anchor in a desperate attempt to draw him away from the dizzying height of ecstasy that threatened to consume you.

His yellow eyes grew wide in confusion as they darted over your face in search of some explanation for the sudden interruption. Finding yourself at a loss for words due to the intensity of his unwavering gaze, you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

Your heart thundered in your chest, pounding against your ribcage as you nervously contemplated the words about to leave your lips. 

Taking a deep breath, you began hesitantly, “I want us to finish together.”

You gently let your hand run down the back of Lo’ak’s head, continuing its path until it reached his arm. You tugged him closer to you until he had you caged beneath him, both of his arms planted firmly on the ground beside your head like a protective barrier.

Lo’ak’s face lit up with a radiant smile at your words. However, he was completely unprepared for what you would say next.

“Through Tsaheylu. Together,” you whispered almost inaudibly.

Your voice was so soft that one could easily have missed it, but Lo’ak’s eyes widened as if they were attempting to absorb the entirety of your statement. He had heard every single word loud and clear, and there was no doubt that he understood the significance of what you just proposed.

Lo’ak nodded emphatically, his chest rapidly rising and falling as his eyes wandered over your face, trying to determine for the second time that day whether this was reality or a dream.

“Yeah? You really want to?” He asked, his eyes filled with curiosity and hope, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

His hand tenderly reached out to brush away a stray strand of hair from your flushed face before gently cradling your jaw in a caring and familiar gesture of love. You mirrored his nod in response, silently conveying your mutual feelings and desires. At that moment, there was nothing else in the world that you wanted more than to make Tsaheylu with Lo’ak right there and then.

The atmosphere between the two of you was electric and palpable. A mixture of anticipation, passion, and unwavering trust laced the air.

Lo’ak leaned in closer, slowly bringing his face down to yours. Your lips met in a soft embrace—an innocent yet intoxicating kiss that was worlds apart from your previous messy and heated exchange. It was a testament to the deepening connection between the two of you, one filled with unspoken love, desire, and trust.

The emotions stirred by the simple act swirled around you like an invisible current, further cementing the bond that had formed throughout your time together. As Lo’ak’s lips gently brushed against yours, it seemed as though time had slowed down. There was no rush; no urgency had come into play when everything felt so perfectly crafted for the scene at hand.

The moment was intense, almost palpable, as you felt like your heart was on the verge of bursting when Lo’ak pulled back from your entwined lips, only to reach behind him and retrieve his braided queue. He swiftly pulled it over his shoulder, and as he held it up between the two of you, the dark hairs at the tip cascaded gracefully to the side, revealing the delicate pink tendrils that seemed to dance in anticipation.

You had seen Lo’ak do it countless times before—when he’d mount his ikran, when he’d ride the direhorses, when he’d connect to the Tree of Souls. Despite the familiarity, you found yourself marveling at the mesmerizing sight. This time was different, and the significance of what was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water.

By connecting in mind and spirit, Lo’ak would share all that he was with you—each memory enlivened with vibrant detail; every emotion given depth and nuance; all senses heightened and magnified beyond any experience you could have ever imagined.

And now the moment had finally arrived, the pivotal point in your relationship where you and Lo’ak were about to link queues and become one, mated for life.

With that thought in mind, you quickly shifted, momentarily lifting your back from the ground so you could seize hold of your queue.

Your hand shook with nervous excitement as you reached it out towards Lo’ak’s, your entire being ablaze with anticipation. You couldn’t help but wonder what the connection would feel like, how the essence of another living, breathing person would seep into the very depths of your soul.

As the tendrils of your queue edged closer to Lo’ak’s, they finally intertwined, sending an almost electric jolt through every fiber of your being. 

You could feel the presence of another living, breathing entity residing deep within your soul, as though you had welcomed in a part of yourself that had been missing all along. It was as if every fiber of your being was united with his in a timeless bond.

You hadn’t even realized that your eyes had fluttered closed.

When you finally opened them again and let reality return, the first thing you sought was Lo’ak’s gaze. 

And there he was, staring intensely at you, his dark pupils dilated wide in awe and wonder. His breath was shaky as it fanned across your face, a shared acknowledgment of the incredible experience that had just unfolded between you two.

The sensation was beyond anything you’d ever experienced before.

You could feel everything. Every single thing. The pounding of his heart seemed to reverberate within your very being, its rhythm unmistakable and powerful. It was as if every breath he took inhaled a part of you, and each exhale released a warmth that spread throughout your entire body, all in perfect sync.

And it wasn’t just his physical presence that became entwined with yours. His thoughts raced within your mind. The shared experiences birthed a flurry of emotions—pure love, affection, and desire—that poured into you. It was as if you could experience the entire spectrum of his emotions all at once.

The pleasure coursing through him fueled your own tenfold, creating an indescribable sensation that beckoned from deep within your soul. It was a pulsing, throbbing need centered between your legs, more powerful than anything you’d experienced even during the peak of your heat cycle.

Driven by instinct and a primal need for release, you wrapped your legs around Lo’ak’s waist, seeking any form of friction available to ease the mounting pressure. 

And though you knew damn well it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy either of you completely, even that slightest contact seemed to amplify everything happening between the two of you.

Almost as if orchestrated by fate, you both found yourselves moaning in unison at the feeling of sheer pleasure from the brief contact, a guttural sound born from the depths of pure ecstasy. The sensation was so intense and all-consuming that it almost knocked the air from your lungs.

“Shit, y/n,” Lo’ak groaned, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he tried to hold himself together. He firmly gripped your waist for support while you both struggled to catch your breath.

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of your combined labored breathing filling the air, mingling together and growing progressively louder as you continued to grind yourself against Lo’ak’s clothed front. You could feel how hard he was with each press of his length against your soaked core. 

“Get this thing off,” you mumbled, blindly searching with your hands to get a grip on his loincloth, because why was he still clothed and not splitting you in half at that very moment?

Lo’ak understood your urgency and quickly moved to get rid of the garment in question. He untied the knot from around his waist with haste, allowing his loincloth to drop unceremoniously to the floor beneath him and finally expose his throbbing length.

The sight before you was mesmerizing. His cock seemed to sway in front of your eyes, as if calling out to you. It was already so full, the tip dark and leaking a steady trickle of precum.

Without hesitation, Lo’ak gently nudged your legs further apart using his knees, leaving you completely exposed to him once again. He firmly gripped himself, unable to resist the urge to slowly buck his hips into his clenched fist. 

Your head, which had been lifted off the ground so you could fully appreciate Lo’ak in all his unclothed glory, abruptly fell back to the ground with a loud and what should’ve definitely been a painful thud. However, the sensation of pain didn’t even register in your mind.

You were entirely consumed by the incredible pleasure coursing through Lo’ak’s body, a pleasure that rippled throughout your being through the bond with such an overwhelming intensity that it elicited a broken moan from your lips.

Breathlessly, you began to speak, “Oh my...” but the words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Lo’ak’s tip brushing teasingly against your swollen nub of nerves, tracing a tantalizing path from your clit along your slickened folds, and pushing you closer to the brink of insanity.

The anticipation continued to build, stretching out the moment and making it seem like an eternity as you both danced on the precipice of pleasure—every touch, every whispered word drawing you further in while heightening the emotional connection between you two.

Lo’ak leaned down to his favorite spot: the tiny, delicate jut where your neck met your shoulder. He sucked a bruising kiss into your skin, all the while continuing the slow, borderline sadistic slide of his cockhead against your front.

With each tantalizing nudge, his grunts echoed against the soft flesh of your neck, reverberating throughout your body. 

Desperate for more, you managed to gasp breathlessly through the haze of pleasure. “Inside, Lo’ak. Please, I need you.”

At last, it seemed as though your plea had broken through to him.

Lo’ak seemed to snap back into focus from his euphoric daze, finally pulling away from your neck. Licking his lips in anticipation, he nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah. Need you too,” he rasped out.

His gaze flickered between your flushed face and the spot between your legs where he’d been teasing you mercilessly, back and forth, as if he couldn’t get enough of observing every tiny movement you made. His rapt attention seemed to hang on your every labored breath, each moan and whimper that escaped your lips.

Finally, Lo’ak cautiously started to make his way inside of you.

Your eyes clamped shut as your forehead crinkled in reaction to the familiar yet still startling stretch. 

You mentally chastised yourself for every time you’d obliviously joked about how small he probably was, how his extra finger probably only existed to compensate for what he was lacking in other areas. Your smug ignorance seemed laughable now, as it was clear that your prior words were wholly mistaken.

He was anything but small. His size was, by all accounts, definitely more than substantial. That much was evident, as reiterated by the burning stretch of your walls each time Lo’ak would initially sink into you. You probably would never get used to it.

Lo'ak could’ve been annoyingly conceited about it. He could’ve laughed at the look on your face and made you endure the full brunt of his size all at once, because that was honestly what you deserved. It would’ve been a taste of your own medicine considering the past teases you’d ignorantly thrown his way. 

But, despite it all, he didn’t.

He was always so soft, so gentle about it, handling the situation delicately and never failing to check in on your well-being—just as he was doing now.

“You okay? You have to tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his thumb gently brushing across the inside of your thigh. His eyes darted across your face, searching every inch for any hint of discomfort.

Despite the uncertainty in his words, you were sure that he could feel the extent of your pleasure. Through your neural connection, he definitely had to have known how much you liked it when he stretched you open.

With some effort, you peeled your eyes open, staring up at Lo’ak with a half-lidded look of languid satisfaction. Your head shook from side to side as a contented grin formed on your lips. 

“No,” came the breathy reply, “it’s so good. Love how full you make me feel.”

And with that, you pushed yourself even further onto Lo’ak's length, continuing until you felt no space left between you; his hips pressed snugly against your front. The sensation of him being completely inside of you filled your heart with joy, and a gentle nudge against your cervix confirmed that he was deeply connected to you in every way imaginable.

Lo’ak pressed his chest against yours, allowing the warmth of your bodies to merge as one. His forehead tenderly touched yours, and you both closed your eyes, fully immersed in the moment.

Time seemed to stand still as you both indulged in the bliss of being as close as possible, physically and emotionally connected like never before. It was a sensation that could never truly be captured in words.

Lo’ak moved ever so slightly from your intimate embrace, pulling out only to ease himself back into you purposefully. It was as if he were guiding you on a journey to another world, one where the two of you floated seamlessly through space and time.

He fucked you slow and sweet with tiny, measured thrusts that mirrored the tempo of your heartbeats, synchronized by the undeniable connection between you. The mutual dance of love continued with deliberate grace as Lo’ak led the way with his gentle and controlled movements. It was that intense physical expression of love that made it impossible to break from the embrace. 

Your lips languidly grazed against each other's—just mere whispers of breathy, open-mouthed kisses that tasted like love itself.

As your intimacy built to a crescendo, so did your readiness to accommodate him completely. You were so wet, and you welcomed each gentle slide of his cock with ease, your bodies effortlessly melding together as one. You lovingly opened up for him, enveloping him whole with passion and tenderness.

It wasn’t hard and fast like you sometimes inevitably went at it with each other. Those instances took place hastily, either in between grueling training sessions or hidden in quiet corners of Hometree late at night. In those fleeting moments, you were constantly on high alert and trying to keep quiet. Every breath carried a sense of urgency and anticipation, as if someone might discover your intimate secret at any second.

However, things were different now. There was no sense of urgency. There were no watchful eyes, no impending duties or responsibilities that you’d had to run off to.

It was just you and Lo’ak, connected in the deepest manner conceivable—physically and emotionally united in the most intimate way possible.

As you lay there together in that beautiful moment, Lo’ak continued to whisper tender words of appreciation that seemed to make their way up your spine like tiny sparks, sending shivers of pure bliss up your spine. It felt as if his gentle, breathy little praises had some kind of magical property, tracing the path along your neural whip and leaving sparks of sensitivity all throughout your body.

He continued to fervently whisper sweet praises—"just like that" and “so good, y/n”, and each one made you feel even more entranced by the newfound connection you shared. You were convinced that his voice alone had the power to make you surrender completely and melt into the floor beneath you.

You were at a loss, unsure of what to do with your hands. They stretched aimlessly above your head, with your fingers absentmindedly plucking and tearing blades of grass from the ground beneath you. 

You finally reached out toward Lo’ak, hooking your arms beneath his and clutching at his back as if attempting to anchor yourself into some semblance of reality. His movements seemed to cut through you, each thrust driving a wedge deep within your core that further solidified the bond shared between the two of you.

“I love you so much,” Lo’ak murmured into your mouth, his grip on your waist growing stronger to emphasize the undeniable sincerity behind his words. He continued, almost manic in his declaration, “Fuck, I love you. You have no idea.”

His voice was low and throaty, and you could only respond with a moan of unconditional agreement. It felt as though once he had uttered those three powerful words, it was no longer enough for him to simply think or feel the intensity of his love for you—he had to say it aloud, over and over again.

It wasn’t as if the two of you had been deliberately or even knowingly avoiding saying those words until now.

You obviously loved each other and were obviously in love with each other for as long as you could remember. However, your journey began as best friends and remained that way for such a long time that you didn’t really know how to approach the affectionate verbal confession until now. It was as if uttering those special words might somehow disturb the delicate balance between friendship and romantic love that the two of you had maintained almost effortlessly for so long.

Sure, physical affection was something you’d grown comfortable with. The intimacy of sex with Lo’ak was electric, and it left you both breathless. Nonetheless, the foundation of friendship you had built over the years remained strong and unwavering. 

The very fact that you were not only lovers but also best friends added an intricate layer of complexity to your still-new relationship. It was exciting yet puzzling at the same time, figuring out how to balance your undeniable love for one another with the familiarity that came with years of close-knit friendship.

At times, you both found yourselves grappling with the delicate balance between foolhardy banter and serious talk about your relationship.

You’d often resort to flustered, stuttering wrecks whenever anyone around you would steer your conversation toward topics like mating or raising children together. It was clear that both of you deeply desired those things, but figuring out how to effectively communicate your feelings and intentions was still a work in progress.

And in all those months since you'd been courting, you just hadn’t yet learned how to express your affection for one another in its purest, verbal form.

Sure, Lo’ak would often share the things that he loved about you: “I love your eyes...”; “I love how much you care about everyone around you, even though you pretend like you don’t...”; “I love the way you look on top of me...”—yet despite all the passionate declarations, the simple utterance of those three potent words remained an unspoken truth between the two of you.

It was just another one of those things that the two of you danced around until one of you was bold enough to face it head-on. And it definitely hadn’t been the first time, as you recalled how you’d skirted around your feelings for each other for years before finally admitting them to each other only a few months ago.

That was precisely why the phrase “I love you” carried such monumental weight each time it escaped from Lo’ak’s lips right in front of you.

Those three little words felt like a sacred hymn that touched your very soul. You savored every syllable, allowing his tender words to envelop you, allowing his warm breath to caress your lips—just a hair’s breadth apart from his.

You could practically feel the warmth of his love emanating from every touch, each caress sending shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, the heat in your core intensified, amplified by a heady concoction of love and lust. You became increasingly aware that you weren’t going to be able to last much longer. It was all so intense.

Yet even amidst the whirlwind of raw emotion and overwhelming passion, you found yourself wishing that the breathtaking moment could stretch on into infinity. The connection shared between you and Lo’ak was so powerful and awe-inspiring that the thought of it ending seemed unfathomable.

“Fuckfuckfuck Lo'ak, I’m gonna—” You barely choked out the warning, your words probably indecipherable as your entire world seemed to blur and your vision whited out around the edges. Your body went rigid, your walls clenching around Lo’ak so tight in a series of spasms that left him stuttering his thrusts to a halt.

He threw his head back in a deep moan and held onto every last bit of control he had left, trying his best not to spill inside of you in that overwhelming moment. Despite the literal death grip you had on him, he managed to hold on for just a bit longer.

Through it all, Lo'ak covered your face in soft, tender kisses as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Your body felt light and blissfully exhausted under Lo’ak’s tender and unrelenting affection. You felt utterly spent under his unwavering care.

As your high finally started to subside, all that remained was a lingering, trembling sensation running through your body. 

Lying there with Lo’ak still fully enveloped around and within you, all you could do was weakly reach up and run a shaky hand through his braids, holding him close to you until you slowly came back to your senses.

In the aftermath of your intense orgasm, you could unmistakably sense the desire emanating from every fiber of Lo’ak’s being through your bond. He was holding himself back, trying to stabilize his frantic heartbeat.

Both of you had mutually (and flusteredly) agreed that you weren’t ready for children anytime soon, both still young and wanting to take your time with one another. You wanted to cherish every moment with Lo'ak in the honeymoon-like phase of your relationship for a few more precious years before even entertaining the thought of building a rambunctious herd of little kids.

With that mutual agreement in mind, you gingerly unfurled your legs from Lo’ak’s waist, keenly observing his every move as he painstakingly pulled out of your tight wetness.

With a final obscene popping sound, he finally withdrew completely, firmly gripping the base of his slickened shaft. His eyes squeezed shut, his head hung low, and his breath escaped in shallow puffs of air.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, reaching out with your free arm to swat Lo’ak’s hand away and get him off yourself. As your fingers curled around his length, a look of determination crossed your face.

Lo’ak leaned into the sensation of your tight grip, letting out a deep moan as he instinctively thrust into your fist to meet each of your pumps. 

You relished in the way Lo’ak went pliant under your fingers—his arms hanging limp at his sides and his head thrown back in overwhelming pleasure from just your slightest touch.

You sat up fully, instinctively steadying yourself with a firm grip on Lo’ak’s hip. You delicately brought your mouth to him, licking a wet line all along the length of his shaft, leisurely starting from the base and gliding up to the tip. 

The sudden sensation caught Lo’ak completely off guard, his eyes snapping open in surprise to just barely catch the sight of you taking the swollen head of his cock between your lips.

As you did so, your other hand moved in perfect synchrony, gripping and pumping at the base of his shaft. Your head skillfully bobbed up and down in a leisurely dance of pleasure as you took him deeper into your mouth.

The entire ordeal created a messy symphony of sound: a concoction of your own slick arousal, saliva, and his leaking precum forming an unmistakable wetness. But much to your delight, you loved every moment of the sensory overload—almost as much as you loved watching Lo’ak slowly fall apart above you.

Taking your time (as well as revenge for how cruelly slow Lo'ak had teased you earlier), you gently slid your mouth off his head with a wet, satisfying pop. As your hand continued to lazily fist his shaft, your eyes were completely captivated by his reactions, as if you were privy to a secret performance just for you.

He looked the same way he always did when you sucked him off—all disheveled, his cheeks flushed with passion and a series of low moans escaping his throat—and you loved it so much.

But even more so, you loved the intimate connection that allowed you to feel every emotion coursing through him: the boundless love, the fiery desire coursing through his veins, and the growing anticipation toward his climax. It was an exhilarating experience. It made you want to be the one to make him lose himself completely, just as he had done for you moments ago.

With purposeful intent, you guided Lo’ak back into your eager mouth, sending subtle vibrations coursing through his body by gently humming around his length and eliciting yet another groan from him. 

Carefully meeting each of his responses with enthusiasm and skill, you took him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Your movements became bolder, taking nearly all of him until he grazed the back of your throat before gradually sliding back up once more.

You repeated that motion once, then twice, before you heard Lo’ak calling out your name, desperately warning you that he was about to come.

You couldn’t help but smile when you felt Lo’ak twitch in your mouth. It was a familiar sign that he was about to spill every last drop of himself down your throat.

Lo’ak’s fingers gently found their way through your hair as he released a deep, guttural groan. He watched you through half-closed eyes as he came in sharp bursts into your eagerly awaiting mouth. 

Your enthusiasm was unrestrained as you swallowed around him, hungrily capturing every last drop of him. You practically sucked Lo’ak raw, leaving him gasping and whimpering from the overstimulation.

Eventually, you decided to show him some mercy as you slowly trailed your lips upward along his overly-sensitive shaft. Gently, you placed a tiny kiss on his tip, grinning like a madwoman at how Lo’ak’s eyes squeezed tightly shut, his abdominal muscles tensing in response to the sensitivity of your touch. 

With his eyes still shut, Lo’ak shook his head in disbelief, marveling at the power of your loving touch. 

It was so much more than just physical contact.

Tsaheylu made everything feel a million times more powerful, more intense. You couldn't help but feel a little light-headed from the sheer perfection of it all, almost as if you were floating.

Without any hesitation, you grabbed hold of Lo'ak's arm and pulled him down to the ground until both of you lay side-by-side, face-to-face, basking in the blissful afterglow of your shared intimacy.

You hooked a leg over Lo'ak's side, drawing him even closer to your body. He responded with his own lingering touch, his hand confidently yet gently cradling your thigh as if it were second nature. It was a simple act of intimacy that somehow felt like so much more.

As you lay there in that tender embrace, your heartbeats synced as if they were dancing to the same rhythm. Soft smiles spread across your faces, and everything around you seemed to blur out of focus. It was just the two of you at that moment, wrapped up in the delicate threads of the bond that interwove between each of your shared glances.

Though your communications were mostly unspoken in that moment, it didn't matter. The way your eyes locked together and the raw emotion displayed on your faces told an entire story on their own—one of love, trust, and vulnerability. It was a conversation without words that could be understood by anyone who had ever experienced connection as powerful as Tsaheylu.

Your chest tightened at the undeniable joy that illuminated Lo'ak's face. His eyes sparkled with pure elation, and you were sure your face mirrored the exact same expression.

You were one—mated for life—and you couldn’t be happier.

The concept of time seemed to vanish into thin air as you remained entwined, reveling in the unmatched closeness. The intimate connection enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Lo'ak's voice came as a welcome interruption to the tranquility of the moment.

"Can I say it again?” 

Completely spent and practically half-asleep nestled within Lo'ak's arms, you could only muster a faint 'hmm?' in response to his question. You closed your eyes and burrowed yourself further into his embrace. He was so warm.

You felt the soft vibrations of Lo'ak's laughter within your body, resonating deep within your chest. He was well aware of how you would always go all quiet and soft after sex. He also knew that you would drift off to sleep right there in the middle of the forest, completely bare, if he let you. He wasn’t going to let you.

"That I love you," he murmured, reaching out to tuck your hair back in place behind your ear. His fingers continued their journey to the nape of your neck, where they lovingly grazed the wispy hairs there. His touch was unimaginably delicate and tender; it was almost unbearable.

"Are you planning to ask for my permission every single time you want to say it?" You asked sleepily, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile at the thought. You knew deep down that he would actually do it, and his response only solidified your conviction.

"If you want me to," he replied genuinely, his voice almost a whisper.

You opened your eyes, only to roll them at the earnest expression painted across his face, despite the way his words made your heart flutter. He was so endearing, so fucking adorable, you wanted to tease him for it. To be honest, you couldn't pinpoint when the shift happened—the moment he evolved from your foolhardy best friend into the still foolhardy, but also tender-hearted and affectionate man laid out before you.

"You don't have to," you began softly, stretching out your arm to take hold of Lo'ak's hand.

Slowly, you guided his hand towards yourself, pressing his open palm directly over your chest. Right over the rhythmic beat of your heart.

"I can feel it. In here," you whispered to him, making sure to emphasize the sincerity of your words by giving his hand a gentle yet meaningful squeeze. For a few seconds, the two of you remained like that. Silent, the only sound being that of your racing heartbeats.

Love—the breathtakingly powerful emotion—washed over you like a tidal wave as you lay there, your heart racing in your chest. Your heart beat with a fervor that mirrored the intensity of your mutual affection. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. The love was a beautifully combined force; it belonged to both you and Lo'ak equally. 

The love vibrated deep within you. It surrounded you with its warmth and energy. It felt as if every fiber of your being was completely saturated with the incredible emotion, connecting the two of you with an undeniable bond. You were so deeply in love, and you knew Lo'ak could feel it just as strongly through every frantic beat of your heart.

As your hand gradually loosened its grip on Lo'ak's, his own fingers remained unwaveringly pressed against your chest, right above your heart. He seemed entranced, as though attempting to imprint every pulsating beat and the faintest echo of your heart beneath his palm into his memory. Time seemed to slow, as if granting him the chance to capture every minute detail.

He devoured every intricate aspect, each subtle expression that adorned you. And as Lo'ak gazed upon you with the warmest, most affectionate eyes, a tender smile of pure adoration spread softly across his lips. His entire demeanor conveyed a simple yet profound message—one that spoke of love and devotion beyond anything imaginable.

“You know I’m still gonna say it,” Lo’ak declared with a wide, boyish grin. “Every single day, for the rest of my life.” 

The warmth that filled the air between you intensified as his grip on your waist tightened, drawing you closer to him as if trying to physically absorb the moment. His lips brushed against your temple in a slow, lingering kiss that seemed to carry the weight of his vow.

He meant what he said, and you knew that without a doubt. 

You reveled in the feeling of his breath on your skin and the steady heartbeat that echoed against your chest. The simple pleasure was enough to make you giddy with happiness about the prospect of your future together.

As if reading your thoughts, Lo’ak squeezed you gently and whispered those cherished words into your ear over and over again, like a promise. 

end

Taglist <3:

@vanillawhale, @strawberryclouds22, @countryandsweetbabygirl, @kurogxrix, @yunonaneko, @ahsatan785, @lauratstrange, @lwesodra, @kaealowri, @starboyloak, @thefirst-ofus

Previously: Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III, Chapter IV, Chapter V, Chapter VI

[leonsleftbicep]

Bake Me Back To Eden

Chapter: II

Ao3 Version

Word Count: 1,183

Tags: Bakery AU, Modern Setting AU, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Vessel/II/III are dating, IV doesn't know them… yet!, Trans II, Nonbinary Vessel, Genderfluid III, They/Them Pronouns for III, It/Its and They/Them Pronouns for Vessel.

Summary: II has an early appointment with a client. heads to Ivy Sprigs for his morning coffee and ham & swiss roll.

II had to go out to work earlier then usual. His client decided to book a five - six hour appointment at nine in the morning. To top it all off he had to shave the grown out scruff on his jaw, and trim his mustache this morning because it was getting in his mouth.

He made his way to ivy sprigs like he did most mornings when he made his way to work, because they took the same route. It was surprisingly hotter than it usually was in the mornings so he rolled up his sleeves and pulled up his hair in a messy bun. not caring how he looks at the moment. 

once at ivy sprigs he went to open the door but it didn’t budge, odd. he decided maybe today wasn’t the day to get coffee but then he heard the jingle of the bell for the door and turned to see IV.

“was just opening up, come on in i’ll get you a ham & swiss roll” Ivy says with a soft look, looking a little longer then usual just to notice II’s more put together appearance and detailed neck tattoo. IV turns around and walks back in, he silently takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. II follows IV in, hold his bag strap a bit out of habit and to calm himself. 

“you can come sit behind the counter with me, no one else is here yet. just us two” IV says with a soft grin as he prepares II ham & swiss roll, like he did every morning for the past month. 

II sits down on a stool near IV, watching as he heats up one of the baked good he likes. 

II looks at the ivy tattoos on IV’s wrists and forearms, “how long have you had those?” II asks while he sets down his bag and pulls out his sketchbook. 

“long, long time. they where originally stick and pokes i did back in uni. then i actually got the rest done by a professional.” IV answers as he hands II the warm ham & swiss roll “i’ll get you that coffee made for you in a second” IV smiles as he starts to clean up the counter. 

II takes a bite of the roll and hums “i could fit you in for a session between some clients if you’re in need of someone to do some designs for you” II offers. 

IV looks over at him with a very obvious blush on his cheeks, “i need a touch up on some tattoos on my thighs, but it would be a while till i can get the money” IV thinks as he looks away and continues to clean up the counter. 

“it's on the house, you already give me free coffee and baked goods” II responds as he sits up straight in a bit of a defensive stoic posture. 

“I consider you a friend now, so it's the most I could do to repay you,” II says with a bit of a softer tone than usual. IV just looks at him with a completely red face and chest. 

“Are you okay Ivy?” II asks worried IV would pass out. 

“im.. im fine, just a bit flustered by-“ was cut off by a whistle “wow Ivy wasn’t expecting you to have a snack this early in the morning” evaline giggles as she walks into the front, she looks II up and down “your that tattoo artist that works up the street, right?” 

IV groans “Lii this is Evaline but i don't think she needs any introduction” he grumbles in an annoyed tone as he motions to her. 

“I like to make myself known,” Evaline smirks, “get your man his coffee, he has work today” she commands as she slaps IV on the rear and makes him squeak. 

II chuckles and covers his mouth “sorry that is just, very funny. it’s understandable now why my partners think you are such a peach” II smiles with so much passion that makes his crows feet really shine. 

IV flusters “im going to go make that coffee for you” he says as he walks off. 

evaline snorts “im going to kill that man if he doesn’t get hitched soon” she says through gritted teeth as she puts her hands on her hips. “believe me i'm trying” II mutters. 

Evaline and II just make eye contact and then act like neither of them ever said that. 

A few moments later IV walks back in with II’s coffee in hand. “So what time is your first?” he asks as he sits on the counter and looks at II. “Nine because this lady is insane” II say before taking a sip of his coffee, “i hate mornings” II grumbles. 

Ivy just looks at him softly “I'll keep that in mind, next time you have an early one just text me so I have it all setup for you” IV offers. ii’s eyes flick to his as he thinks for a second, “i don't have your number?” II say simply. 

“well i can give it to you, yah goof” IV chuckles and puts his hand out for II’s. II looks confused for a second before he understands and gives IV his palm. “you can call me or text me anytime you need m- anything from the bakery” IV says as he internally cringes at the slip up. 

II doesn’t notice the slightest slip up and watches as IV writes his number on II’s palm. the wet ink drying quickly on his skin, the warmth of IV’s hand on his. it makes II sweat.

II’s head was now on a heywire, it couldn’t shut up about IV, he hasn’t felt like this since his first girlfriend in highschool. 

II looks at IV, his eyes scanning over IV’s face wondering if he felt the same. it felt so clique but it was all true, he felt like he was falling head over heels. 

IV and II stare at each other in the eyes for a while, slowly leaning closer and closer unknowingly. 

“eh hem” Erie coughs as her and Evaline stand in the doorway, “works about to start up, we have a couple people outside.” 

Ivy looks at the two and then back at II “i have to get to work, and i bet you do as well” Ivy holds Lii’s hand and kisses the back of his hand. “I'll see you tomorrow,” Ivy says before walking off.

II sits there and tries to collect his thoughts, mulling over what just happened as he holds his to go coffee in one hand as the other is still where IV let go of it. 

Once II zones back in he starts to pack his stuff up, taking a bite of his roll as he focuses on getting out of the cafe as his face gradually redens. 

He runs out of the bakery with a roll stuffed in his mouth, his coffee in hand, and his other hand clutching the strap of his bag for dear life. 

‘The Angels’ Group-Chat

Lii: hey, days all weird today. im on my way to work now. Text me if you need anything.  Thea: hello honey, on your way home pick up some ice cream, poor Vess is all sad today.  Verna: IM IN LOVE AND I CANT HAVE BOTH MY BABIES WITH ME TO COMFORT ME THROUGH THIS!! :::(

[zyafics]

OK PART 33 HB:L THOUGHTS

one over never clicked on a notification so fast in my life ive actually been anticipating this moment

two is the emergency back at home the baby

and three girl where is the baby she took a whole break from school, is it bc she didn’t want anyone to know she was pregnant with rafes baby, which would have to mean that they decided to keep ittt ahh 😝

omg gender? name?

four who else knows about the baby?

five who’s grant like i’ve never seen or heard of him before until that one chapter

six was the caller who came through rafe…?

seven why do you torture us like thissss with the cliffhangers i might hang myself jk jk ofc 😭

eight i literally love you and this series and i binged like the first 29 parts the first day i found it and your page in general just eats like i love it so much and i plan on reading more of your stuff like dead man walking 😝😝

also can i be this 🫧 ik im not on anon but i just wanted it

answering things i can:

thank you!! i swear everyone was waiting for this update but it isn't even in the timeline yall wanted yet 😭 that's next post

grant comes back do not worry

the caller who came through is rafe, especially because earlier in the transcript, someone asked if she missed rafe and she answered yes, so this is a direct call back to it

i literally set up my parts in a way that each parts makes u wanting more (most, not always, sometimes it's very important to slow down the moment so that the reader can breathe and actually enjoy what's going on)

thank you so much for binging and loving this series so much!! honestly, i only planned to post hb:l sporadically while i work on my other series but it garnered so much reception that i invested more time into it!! i miss dead man walking sm, that's why i was doing the graphics today 🙂‍↕️

and sure for the bubble anon!

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

nine weeks down, six to go! 60% of the way there! i worked ummm 23.5 hours unless i fucked up my quick math because i haven't actually put any of my sessions into my time tracking app since monday... a slower week partly because three weekend students rescheduled for sometime this week due to long weekend lans, and partly because, well, you know, other stuff occupying my mind. and, with that in mind, given the Things that were Going On, i personally think we all did great just to make it here, don't you?

one of my kids is testing tomorrow and may or may not be stopping tutoring after that; another two are testing this week and definitely continuing (one of them i am VERY stressed about score-wise and the other i think will eventually be fine by her december test date). there's an SAT student potentially in the pipeline which would be nice in terms of getting me through the winter lull but i haven't heard an update on whether it's happening in a few days. it did recently dawn on me that of students in my fall crop who definitely will or depending on scores may be continuing into january, four of them are weekend students... don't love that but what can you do.

i didn't get to five blurbs for TSJ week, but three is better than none; i didn't quite finish flowers in the attic but i'm pretty close and going to cozy up with it after i log off. i hit four workouts and then last night slept by absolute shit with an earlier-than-usual start and got my period so today's upper body day didn't happen and i will, sigh, not finish the program by thanksgiving, but i will in fact finish it. we got some outside kitchen help and have been mostly pretty good about maintaining it. i did ALL my laundry on my day off tutoring saturday (fourth day without tutoring since september 15th!) for the first time... a while... and perhaps i will at some point even finish putting it away. i didn't really work much on my room beyond that but that alone is a pretty decent improvement. no free store this week but i went to the movies with friends a few nights ago (heretic, a very fun time) and to book club today (flowers in the attic as mentioned before, an absolutely bonkers insane novel), and zoomed with d., i have sichuan plans with a friend this week. i kind of didn't want to hang with a certain group first thing post-election but, guess what, [redacted] flaked, lol. i told myself i had through today to remain hooked up by IV to the Takes machine re: election and i have now closed all my phone tabs and cleared my history, which is a tip i recommend for a light non-extreme digital detox because it forces you to type the URL of anywhere you want to go rather than getting it autofilled, which is the kind of friction i need on this matter, lol.

this week, oh who knows. keep on keeping on, work out, text back [g] whom i have been meaning to text back for two months, keep getting the work done, ideally end the week with the room a little better than it is now and the kitchen about as good as it was... let's say two days ago. lol. my later monday student cancelled for tomorrow and i am thinking i will use the extra time to treat myself to go see the apprentice as a treat, which i realize may sound deranged but do you know the more i think about it the more i think it would actually have been more stressful to watch it before we knew how things would turn out? six more weeks, and week three is thanksgiving, which will provide at least a one-day respite, and week five will already be lighter, and week six will be easier still! the finish line is perhaps not in sight but is right around the bend!

[alienaiver]

Hey Nohr! I'd love to join your writing game! How about either Hawks or Aizawa (you chose!) and 124?

hi hey luna !! 🥰🧡 im glad you joined, i hope you enjoy it as well! (and sorry about the delay! 🧡)

i chose hawks (ive never written for him and i wanted to try!!) and the number gave the sentence: "this place creeps me out"! there's fluff ahoy and 1k words 🧡✨ hawks picks you up once and is mentioned to have done it before, but he is the number 2 hero, so!!! 💪🏼💪🏼

You’re walking behind Takami with your eyes looking around, trying to take in everything. He’d said that he wanted to bring you somewhere today, and had flown for over an hour with you in his grasp. Even if you have been dating the number two hero for over six months (though none of it has been discussed or is official between you, your brain reminds you), you’re not used to his choice of transportation. But it does make sense, he’d get recognized on trains too easily, and you’d have to pretend you didn’t know each other.

”This place creeps me out.” You say, your hands linked behind your back. Takami barks out a crude laugh as he slows down to walk next to you. He reaches out with a looped arm and you wrap yourself around it. ”It’s a very special place, sweet tweeks.”

Sweet tweeks. Takami had a special way of coming up with nicknames you felt you’d heard before but were completely made up. It was a cute little quirk and you felt warmth grow in your face whenever he came up with a new – ridiculous – one. You hum a reply and squeeze his arm, noticing the rust on the pipes that’s running along the building walls. The weather is sunny but the tall buildings are stealing the rays from you and so you can’t help but shiver.

You reach a dead end and Takami laughs, ”up we go!”

That’s the only warning he gives you before he once again picks you up like you’re simply a backpack with nothing in it. You can’t hold back the surprised squeal coming from your body and he can’t hold back an airy laugh. He finds this more amusing than you’d like him to, ”Keigo!” you scold, but it’s really to no avail.

When you reach the roof, he lets you down gently and lands next to you, a laugh escaping him at your wind-blown hair. You pout and sigh but he just grabs your chin with his pointer and thumb, ”look, squidling. Isn’t it beautiful?”

He turns your head slowly to the view you’d barely noticed when you landed and a gasp leaves you. Takami whistles before wrapping his arms around you from behind, ”breathtaking, right?”

He kisses the top of your head and you nod, ”it’s not as creepy as from below.” you admit, wrapping your own arms around his. It’s a sunset over the water. You’re on top of a building that isn’t the tallest, but it towers over the smaller ones in the area. The water has turned a deep red from the setting sun, reflecting small and beautiful sparkles. A content sigh leaves you.

He leans in and kisses you behind the ear, ”almost as breathtaking as you.”

You can’t hold back the snort you let out at the cliché line he just send your way, the image of a wannabe bad boy coming to your mind. As much as Takami enjoys flirting with you shamelessly, it usually comes in concrete compliments and teasing.

The banality of the line makes you push yourself closer up against his back. He happily pulls you closer, his lips not leaving your skin.

”y’know…” he whispers, fingers fiddling with the hem of your jacket, ”I really like you.”

You stay silent, holding your breath. You like Takami a lot but you’ve also tried to be mindful of his space – of his position as the number two hero. Forcing him into a relationship wasn’t something you’d been interested in doing to him. But you also cannot deny that this is somewhat of a dream come true. Something that’s been brewing the past six months.

It’s a long time to keep someone at arm’s length, anyways.

He stays silent so you chance a hum, to show you’re listening. He sighs deeply as his head slumps onto your shoulder. A nervous chuckle escapes him, ”I’m usually not this scared about anything…”

His arms tightens around you as he whispers his most sincere confession, ”but I’m terrified of losing you.”

You give his arms a reassuring squeeze. You’re about to say something supportive, something understanding but he straightens up and talks again, ”but I want to be honest with you, squinky. I want to introduce you to people – close friends of course – as my partner. I wanna call myself your boyfriend. But it’s something… that I’ve been running away from for a very long time. When people come to close, I…”

He clicks his tongue, annoyed by how tongue-tied he feels. You squeeze at his arms before you turn around in his grasp and face him. His cheeks are a wonderful shade of red, accentuated by the red skies. As the sun’s final rays disappear, you feel a shiver run through you.

You run your hand over his cheek and smile, ”we can take this at any speed you’d like. I know you’re used to being the fastest but… it is possible to do things slowly sometimes.”

He snorts and looks away. You often do this, see right through him. In the beginning, he bristled when you hit too close to home but he’s started enjoying it, wanting to see and hear more from you – even if he feels naked and powerless underneath your all-seeing eyes.

You lean in to give him a light peck on the cheeks, ”if I’m honest… I feel giddy thinking about calling you my boyfriend. But titles aren’t all in a relationship. Communicating about where we both stand – like we’re doing right now, is fine as well.”

He smiles, ears burning red at your admission. Then, he returns the peck but deepens it, ”this is actually my secret spot where I come to think. I wanted to share it with you because… I want to share a lot more from now on.”

A teasing smile erupts on your face and with a teasing tilt in your your voixe you ask, ”even your fried chicken?”

Takami shakes his head before nuzzling his nose up against yours, ”doodly, we’re talking marriage before I share my chicken with anyone.”

You laugh and punch his arm without much force, ”I’ll look forward to that proposal then.”

The sky isn’t even close to be as red as his face.

[f1nalboys]

Simple Pleasures - Chapter Seven

chapter six

chapter eight (tbd)

heyyyyy guys long time no see <3 sorry about not updating this fic in like a year ive been going through it :3 HOWEVER i hope this update is nice, i have about 2 or 3 more chapters planned for this and will try to get the next chapter done tonight and ready to go by tomorrow!!!! (that will have smut and (hint) its a flashback to randys first time at the bonfire bc hehe) anyways sorry for any mistakes in both the fic and formatting, my brain is not braining today but i rlly wanted to get this out!!!

WORD COUNT: 1286

WARNINGS: billy centric chapter, angst, break up, slut shaming, angry and sad billy :(, no randy :((, no smut :(((, billy grabs the readers face roughly, not proofread

“What?” Your voice catches slightly but you try to push past both that and the nausea bubbling up in your throat and continue inside your house. 

“Are those fucking hickies on your neck?” Billy reiterates, following behind you quickly, slamming the door shut behind him. You do your best to avoid his eyes. 

“No, Billy. Of course they’re not.”

Billy’s fingers brush against the bare skin of your neck and you flinch away, his touch hot. “Let me see them.” You had never heard Billy’s voice so filled with venom before, so hateful in your direction. He makes another move to look at them and you dodge it again, heading off into the kitchen, heart hammering out of your chest. “Fuckin’ let me look at them!”

“Fine.” You turn around to face him and wait, jaw clenched. You knew this was the end. 

Billy’s eyes search your own and you try to convey every thought you had to him. That you were sorry, that you knew you were in the wrong, that he had every right to be angry. His fingers brush over each bruise, one by one, and he nods, just once, his hands falling to his side. “Was it Randy?”

“Billy, no-”

“Stop.” His voice breaks and he sucks in a breath, swallowing hard. Tears glistened in his eyes, the low light of the kitchen making them look black. “Just… tell me the truth. No more fucking lies, alright. Please?” You nod slowly, leaning back against the kitchen counter, your hands on either side of you. You felt naked under his gaze despite being fully dressed and you moved your eyes down to his feet. You couldn’t look him in the eyes when you answered. “Was it Randy?”

You nod and you swear that you could hear the sound of his heart shattering at that exact moment. He begins to pace in front of you, the sound of his shoes hitting the tile floor filling the silence you left. “I’m sorry.” Your voice is low, quiet, and a small part of you doesn’t want him to hear it. He stops dead in his tracks and lets out a harsh laugh.

“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Your eyes flick upward towards him and he stomps over to you, a snarl on his face, and you try to disappear into the marble countertop. “You’re sorry? You cheated on me, you fucking slut!” His words cut deep but you let him talk, let him get in your face and yell at you. You deserved it. “One of my best fucking friends… fuck! Who else knows?”

“Just Tatum…she found out at the mall a few weeks ago.”

“Of course she did. How long? Hm? How long have you been making me look like a fucking idiot for?” Your mouth opens to answer but you hesitate and he huffs. Billy’s hand comes up to your face and he grabs your chin roughly, squeezing your lips together in a tight grip. “Answer me, Y/N!”

He lets go and you rub your chin, swallowing hard. You had never been scared of Billy before. Not when he was explaining his morbid interests, not when he’d get drunk with Stu and start to talk differently with a glint in his eye, not when he divulged his fascination with blood and death. All of those things you could brush off, could look past. But now that he’s towering over you, his eyes dark and anger flooding his veins? Now you’re scared. 

“Almost six months…but the first time was a year ago.”

“Right. At the bonfire, right?” Billy says, recalling the conversation at the mall a week ago. His eyebrows stitch together slightly. “Does that mean… everything he told us about, that was you?” You nod. “You sucked his dick at the movie night and then came home, fucked me, and told me you loved me?”

He laughs. It’s not a real one, not one that hurts his stomach or brings tears to his eyes and makes him fall silent, gasping for air, but a harsh one, one to cover the pain he was feeling. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head again and runs his hand through his hair roughly, calloused fingers tangling into the strands and tugging. “I mean it, Billy, I am. I know you don’t believe me-”

“Can you fucking blame me?”

“No, I can’t. And I don’t, I wouldn’t! You did nothing wrong Billy, I mean that. I don’t… I don’t know why I did it, or why I never told you, or why I didn’t just break up with you, but I never wanted it to come to this.”

“Are you in love with him?” Billy stares at you. His cheeks were tinged pink from the adrenaline running through his body and he isn’t sure what answer would hurt more. You nod your head yes and he sucks his teeth. “Did you ever love me?” You nod again. “Bullshit.”

You reach for him, desperate to calm him down, but he flinches from your touch like you had done moments ago. “I did! I still do, just… different.” Each word you say to try and fix this seems to make it worse. “I loved you so much, Billy. And I still do because you’re my friend and I care about you,” He scoffs. “But the way I feel with Randy… it’s different. It’s just different.”

“Explain it. How is it different? What do you feel about him that you don’t feel for me anymore?”

“It’s just easy with him.” You know your words will hurt him, that you won’t be able to take them back when you say them, but you don’t care anymore. “Everything is. When bad things happen, I want to ask him what I should do. When good things happen, I want to celebrate with him. When I think of him, I get butterflies and a smile that won’t go away and… and being around him just feels good.”

“That’s funny…” He says, taking a step away from you as if each word you said pained him. You follow as he walks off, out of the kitchen and to your front door. “That’s how I feel about you.” When he says it, there is no venom in his voice. There’s no anger, no resentment, no vitriol. All you could find underneath the words was defeat.

“I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that, Y/N, but I don’t fucking believe it.” He takes a step outside onto your porch and then he hesitates and you wonder if he’s remembering the first time you had let him inside the house after your first date, how nervous the both of you had been, how he had kissed you goodnight with his hand on your cheek, how his eyes had widened and his cheeks had flushed with excitement when you shyly asked him in. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again. Ever. I swear to god, if I ever see either of you…”

Billy’s voice trails off and then he’s shaking his head and walking to his car, hands shoved deep into his pockets. You watch him leave from the doorway of your house, staring down the road long after his car has driven off. The truth was out there now and you were relieved but something deep in your gut stirred. You were scared but for what you weren’t quite sure. 

Stepping back inside the house you fish your phone out and type in the number you’ve memorized, holding it to your ear, and you wait with bated breath as it rings. “Hey, Y/N, what’s up? Is everything alright?” Randy’s voice instantly quells every bad feeling.

“I did it. We broke up.”

[iding-rollercoasters-in-posts]

do my followers care if i stray slightly from my gimmick to give a trip report? its still rollercoaster themed so im doing it.

i had a six flags america day! it is technically my home park but i rarely go because i dont know anyone who really likes it(the sfa experience). the last time i went was over a decade ago, and i wasnt a rollercoaster person then, so these were all new credits for me! i went with my partner, who came into town for my birthday (it was on the 9th) and my brother. today was the first day of fright fest, but all that stuff didnt actually start until after dark- we got there shortly after opening and nearly everything was a walk-on.

they renamed the mind eraser to skywinder, i didnt know that lol. i skipped out on that (its an slc can you blame me.) and batwing because the whole laying down aspect kinda intimidated me. someday soon!

heres a brief review of the others, in the order i rid them in:

firebird: woof, this one was a headbanger. i was very determined to try and keep my head steady but i was still getting slammed back and forth into the restraints. i think its got a fun layout tho! if this had different restraints we’d get along fine, im sure.

roar: ive heard so many bad things but i actually really liked it. not sure what else to say, i just had a good time!

ride of steel: definitely not the smoothest hyper ive ever been on. ive seen a lot of folks say the helixes are boring and i definitely agree, but the rest is pretty fun, with nice pops of airtime on the hills.

the wild one: this one was just boring honestly. there was also a really painful transition at one point that had me go ‘ow!’ out loud. i did enjoy the helix at the end, at least.

joker’s jinx: this one was closed earlier in the day so we went on it in the latter half in the day, when a lot of people started coming in for fright fest and actually had a line, though it wasnt too bad. not sure what else to say again, it was great. (also i loved how our ride op just gave a casual ‘bye’ when she hit the launch.) if i have to complain about anything, the corkscrew was a little rough and you come to a pretty painful stop before pulling into the station, really wish that was a smoother stop.

ragin’ cajun: this one also had a line. im not usually a wild mouse person, but this one was just a lot of fun. my partner said they wouldve marathoned it if not for the line! it also gets points for the gator theming, because crocodilians are my favorite animals.

[scourgefrontiers]

oc spotlight: patoto (villainverse)

oh man ok. villainverse patoto. probably one of my favorite ocs ive ever made tbh

he started out as a joke almost, a sort of "what if?" au sorta deal. what if patoto was a villainous saiyan? it sounded like such a fun concept i just had to explore it. and then i came up with this design

which was just SO cool to me i couldnt stop thinking about it. and then before i knew it he became his own character--a patoto from a parallel universe where he was a ruthless warrior, totally opposite from his mainverse counterpart

he developed so fast from there. i gave him a companion that ended up being kinpa, and he developed into kinpa's bodyguard. i gave him a rival that ended up being calabris. i gave him a complicated relationship with his parents, one of which he thought was dead for most of his life (his armor is actually based off of hers to remember her by). his universe grew and his story basically wrote itself i was so obsessed with him and still am

here's his current ref showing how much he's grown

even today im still giving him more development and story! as of right now in the timeline (post-mirrors and post-facets), he has a child with his partner kinpa and his family has grown from just him to a group of six including himself! he's learned to have friends and open his heart to others, and he's gotten so strong im so proud of him.

mirrors would have never existed had i not ran with his concept like i did. his character and story contrasting with mainverse patoto's is just so fun and awesome to me and i've always had fun with it and i feel like i'll continue to have fun with it as well!!

i could honestly keep going about some specific details abt him like his relationship with kinpa and zumeg (both of them) and his father and his kid and. yknow what i will LOL

his relationship with kinpa started as just a bodyguard situation but OF COURSE that developed into an actual partnership bc i love that shit. he was this cold and frankly mean guy that wanted nothing to do with kinpa or being his bodyguard--he hated it. but after getting trapped on earth in a parallel universe, he learned to open up to the idea of having at least one friend and letting himself care about someone for the first time since he was a child.

as for his parents...thats complicated lol. (facets spoilers ahead !!!) his mother zumeg was presumed dead when she didnt return from a battle when he was just a boy, and his father left some time before that, so he was basically raised in an orphanage into adulthood (or at least until he could join the army). he met the mainverse zumeg and that shook him to his core bc she was not only so different but she still cared about him and reminded him what it was like to be loved by his own mother. it wasnt until way later, many many years later, that he decided he wanted to find his father and find out why he left them. after getting that clarification, he chose to give his father a second chance at being part of his life--more for himself than his father, really--and then not long after that he discovered his mother was actually alive, just under someone's control. he saved her, and suddenly he had a family again.

i havent quite developed his story with his kid just yet, but so far what i figure is that he isnt experienced with children at all so he does have a hard time balancing the tough parenting act and the gentle, kind parenting. snake (his son) does feel a pressure to be as great as his father, since he's heard the stories of how he saved the universe before and how he continues to fight and reach new heights. patoto is a little awkward at handling this and has a hard time showing that he's proud of his son and that sort of causes a little tension between them but it eventually works out

basically i love villainverse patoto. a lot. i would die for him actually