#natural disinfectants

[toucaneco]

What is an effective natural disinfectant?

Natural disinfectants help clean and sanitize surfaces in your home without the use of harsh chemicals. They are also less expensive and safer than chemical-based products.

There are several common household items you can use to create your own natural disinfectant. These include vinegar, lemon juice, baking soda, and essential oils. Each of these has anti-bacterial and anti-fungal properties.

Hydrogen peroxide is an effective household disinfectant that kills bacteria and viruses. It can be used to disinfect the kitchen, bathroom, and other areas of your home. You can also use hydrogen peroxide as a hair bleach.

Alcohols are another effective alternative to chemical-based disinfectants. They are safe to use on all surfaces and don't cause as much damage. Unlike bleach, you don't have to dilute the alcohol when disinfecting.

A few other popular natural disinfectants include lavender and bergamot. These essential oils have strong antimicrobial properties. Mix them with water in a spray bottle to make your own natural disinfectant. Then, shake it up before each use.

If you don't like the smell of alcohol, you can add a few drops of tea tree essential oil. This oil will boost the disinfectant's effectiveness and also reduce the smell.

Another option is to mix an equal amount of alcohol and water. Vinegar can be used for sanitizing most surfaces. However, the acid in vinegar doesn't do as much as alcohol.

Another natural alternative is to use lavender on cotton balls to keep insects from entering your common areas. Lavender and baking soda are an effective way to scrub hard surfaces.

[wtowingedtragicobsidian]

JJK cologne/scent HCs(?) b/c that's what my brain wants apparently

~please keep in mind I don't actually know what any of these fragrances are like, so my h/cs are not an accurate reflection~

Megumi: Iron & Oak by Redwood Alchemy

His cologne smells like a forest after rain. He naturally smells like fabric softener and wet animal(not in a bad way).

Gojo: Water of Life Живая Вода by Ladanika

TBH Gojo smells like barely anything, even if he wears cologne it dissipates really quickly.

Geto: Diwan by The Spirit of Dubai

When he was younger he smelled cleaner/simpler; like incense wafting down a temple footpath, mingling with spring florals from the nearby gardens.

But as he gets older the smell gets stronger/heavier, and little bit worse; the rooms are stuffy with incense smoke and something has curled up and begun to fester in the woodwork. He smells like antique lacquered wood and expensive incense and stickily overripe fruit and something disgustingly, animalistically human. All choking on a faux flora cleanliness.

[gogonano]

How to Safely Clean All Surfaces from Viruses?

Careful hand washing and use of disinfectants and wearing protective masks are an important part of limiting the spread of corona and other viruses. For safe disinfection, we have developed a natural cleaning and disinfecting agent that safely destroys viruses, bacteria, fungi, Gram-negative (for example, the causative agent of tuberculosis) and Gram-positive bacteria from any surfaces and materials.

Corona challenge

In light of recent events, GoGoNano has adapted its core activities as a green chemistry and technology provider to provide support during the global corona pandemic. We remain focused on core values ​​that positively impact people and the environment.

Our mission is to provide products and technology to reduce and/or replace toxic disinfectant chemicals and support people in reducing infectious diseases. With the goal of saving people and making our planet friendly.

Lactic acid is much more effective against corona & other viruses

GoGoNano Anti-Viral is a lactic acid-based deep-cleaning disinfectant that helps fight not only corona but also all other pathogens in a safe and sustainable way. Its biodegradable composition with surface-active particles effectively destroys bacteria, virus particles and fungi and does not damage delicate materials. Therefore, it is well suited for cleaning all objects and surfaces that have come into our homes from the outside, such as food packaging, clothes worn while shopping or other soft objects that cannot be properly disinfected with ethanol.

GoGoNano antiviral and antibacterial disinfectant has been proven effective against various harmful pathogens and bacteria. Corona can survive on different surfaces for several days. Therefore, disinfection and cleaning are extremely important. The product is specially designed for this task.

SAFE CLEANING AGENT FOR BOTH HOME AND OFFICE

Lactic acid is a natural, safe and effective alternative to synthetic antiviral agents. It is a naturally occurring acid that is produced during the acidification of milk, as well as in humans and animals as a result of physical activity. While most disinfectants work with the support of three biocidal mechanisms, lactic acid has four of these mechanisms, which is why it is much more difficult for pathogens to become resistant to it.

Thanks to this, lactic acid has proven itself as an effective defense against a large number of different pathogens. Its combination of effectiveness and safety for human health has made lactic acid a popular cleaning agent in both homes and businesses, such as catering kitchens and stores, where the need for deep cleaning and disinfection is constant.

Which surfaces should be disinfected?

During the disease season, surface cleaning should be done daily as a routine. It is important to notice which surfaces come into contact more often, especially in frequently used rooms. If you don’t know which places need to be cleaned, spend some time observing which surfaces people come into contact with most often.

The following areas and items usually require more frequent cleaning:

– door handles – elevator buttons – toilet and bathroom surfaces – switches – handrails – chair armrests – tables – work surfaces

In order to effectively prevent the spread of the virus, surfaces should be cleaned as often as possible. In public spaces, this should be done no less than every 2-4 hours. In addition to the mentioned surfaces, the edges of doors and other shared objects also need attention.

Lactic acid has fast-acting, effective antiviral properties

Most products available take 5-10 minutes to work on viruses, leaving the possibility that not everything will be removed. In addition, a large amount of the product is required for effective work, which limits its use and increases toxic side effects. Our lactic acid based antiviral organic cleaner has been tested and proven to work instantly. It removes all viruses within one minute of use. We believe that it is necessary to invest in a more efficient and ecological solution to prevent diseases along with the safety of our environment and human health.

A SAFE ALTERNATIVE TO TOXIC DISINFECTANTS

“Our mission is to provide alternative products and technology to reduce and/or replace toxic disinfectant chemicals on the market and support people in reducing infectious diseases. With the goal of saving people and making our planet friendly,” says GoGoNano creator Kaur Reinjärv. “In the form of lactic acid, we found an ideal tool that fights diseases much more effectively and does not harm people or nature.”

Nano coatings for clothing, vehicles and electronics

We are an Estonian brand of nanotechnological protective equipment, where apart from fighting diseases, we have also stood up against the modern throw-away culture. Our sustainable nano-protectors help keep electronic devices, clothes, shoes and even cars looking like new for a long time, so that you can use them for as long as possible, thereby wasting as little money and natural resources as possible.

[sterloc]

Sterloc: Advanced HOCl Acid Solutions for Comprehensive Disinfection

Explore Sterloc's innovative hypochlorous acid (HOCl) products, offering safe and effective disinfection for surfaces, skin, and food items. Our HOCl-based solutions ensure optimal hygiene without harmful chemicals, making them ideal for homes, healthcare settings, and food safety applications.

[k12academics]

SIMPLE ELEMENTS WAS CREATED TO PROVIDE ALL-NATURAL DISINFECTANT AND CLEANERS TO EVERYONE AS AN ALTERNATIVE TO TOXIC AND HARMFUL CHEMICALS. OUR PRODUCTION FACILITY IN LAKE BUTLER, FL MANUFACTURES, BOTTLES, AND DISTRIBUTES ALL PRODUCTS IN HOUSE. SIMPLE ELEMENTS UTILIZES TECHNOLOGY TO PRODUCE HOSPITAL GRADE DISINFECTANTS AND CLEANERS THAT ARE EPA REGISTERED AND ABLE TO KILL EVERY BACTERIA AND VIRUS IT HAS BEEN TESTED AGAINST, ALL THE WHILE REMAINING NATURAL WITH NO CHEMICALS.

EPA Registered as a Disinfectant FDA Approved for Sanitizing USDA Approved for Food Processing Applications Our products are on the CDC & EPA "N" list for Covid-19 because we have proven to kill coronavirus.

Sapphire Disinfection is committed to producing all-natural products that will not leave behind harmful residual chemicals. Human-safe as it is a Non-Irritating Skin or Respiratory Solution that breaks down into natural elements. Environmentally Benign with No Harmful Chemicals, No Waste, No Preservatives, No Alcohol, and No Allergic Reaction. Powerful Ready-to-Use Broad Spectrum Tuberculocidal Disinfectant & Cleaner that Destroys the Germ's Cell Wall Preventing Germs from becoming Drug Resistant. Sapphire Disinfection's premiere product is Hypochlorous Acid (HOCL) which naturally occurs within the human body to fight infections, but we make at a much higher strength and PH Neutral. Hard Surface Disinfectant and Cleaner without Harming Sensitive Human Skin, fabrics, wood, or metal.

Product Formulated to Mimic the Human Immune System

Gentle for use around people, plants, and animals

Unique Products that Leave NO Harmful Residuals

Use as a Biocide on any Hard Surface

Alcohol-Free, Will no Dry or Irritate Skin

Eco-Friendly - No Waste Product or Harmful Chemicals

Green Product - Bottles are Refillable and Recyclable, Natural Ingredients

Kills Every Pathogen that it's been testing against including Staph, E Coli, MRSA, and C. diff

[pallavivyas]

Cool Uses of Hydrogen Peroxide, Environment Friendly

Uses of Hydrogen Peroxide has a large list of applications from cleaning around the house to beauty enhancers. Environment friendly, a natural antifungal, antibacterial, and antiviral agent. Inexpensive and safe to use for cleaning, hygiene, healing, etc. Hydrogen PeroxideChemical Compound Hydrogen peroxide is a chemical compound with the formula H ₂O ₂. In its pure form, it is a very pale blue…

[ahealthylife411]

Natural Disinfectant Spray Recipe - Natural Remedies - Daily Health Tips...

[beardedbastardoutdoors]

Water Purification in the Wild: Methods and Tips for Survival

Master the art of water purification in the wild with our latest blog post! 🌲💧Learn about solar disinfection, distillation, plant-based purification, and more. Survival skills to keep you safe on any adventure! #WildernessSurvival #WaterPurification

Introduction Clean, drinkable water is the essence of life. Knowing how to purify it becomes a top priority when you’re in the wilderness. This ultimate guide will arm you with essential wilderness survival skills, focusing on one life-sustaining aspect: water purification. So, whether you’re an outdoor adventurer or you find yourself foraging for survival, understanding these methods can make…

[squeakycleantileandgrout]

Revive your floors with ease! Squeaky Tile and Grout Cleaning Willagee Central delivers pristine tile and grout cleaning services that will leave your home sparkling clean. With our high-quality products and expert techniques, we guarantee a satisfying experience every time. Trust us to rejuvenate your floors - you won't regret it!

[corroded-hellfire]

Summary: You help Eric through an anxiety attack

Note: Obsessed with Eric and I need to protect him from the world, please and thank you. Also, Frodo divider created by me 😊

Warnings: anxiety, panic

Words: 1.5k

The carved out hull of the decimated subway car offers little in the way of protection, but with the power out it seems likely not to cause any unwarranted noise. 

Eric ushers you in before himself, the light from the fluorescents of the station giving the two of you just enough to see by. The seats and bent handrails cast gruesome shadows across the small space, and you decide to take advantage of one particularly large pocket of darkness in the corner. 

Your back presses up against the cool metal, dented from God only knows what. Slowly, you slide down to the floor and Eric lowers himself down beside you. Both of you are caked with dirt and there’s blood smeared against one leg of your jeans. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to belong to either one of you. 

A steady stream of water is somewhere near, the comforting sound letting you breathe just a little easier. Eric must feel the same because he dares to lean in towards you and speak softly.

“Are you okay?”

Never did that seem more complex of a question. You’re not okay in the grand scheme of things, but you’re currently still alive and, for the most part, unharmed. 

“I think so,” you whisper in reply. “Are you?”

Eric nods, rubbing his hands up and down his shins, the worn brown material wearing even thinner in a few spots now. 

The two of you were fortunate to run into one another in an alleyway between two buildings—the only stroke of luck either of you have had lately. A natural ease quickly proved that you worked well together and seeing as neither of you wanted to be alone, the choice was obvious. 

Even though it’s only been roughly twenty-four hours since you’ve met, with all you’ve been through in that time, it feels as if you’ve known Eric for ages. There was no denying how cute he was either, but your brain barely had time for fleeting thoughts like that when your focus is on staying alive. 

“How’s your hand?” Eric asks.

You look at the offending appendage, purple from bruising, slightly swollen, and throbbing. Though, it’s slightly better since you’d found that bodega and swiped all the Tylenol and ibuprofen they had. 

During the initial chaos of the invasion—is that what to call it? —your back was up against the brick wall of an apartment building and a man was sent hurtling in the air towards you. Your hand had the misfortune to get crushed between the high velocity man and the brick wall. Ever since you’ve met Eric, he’s been helping you wrap your hand and always checking in on it. 

“It’s sore,” you admit. 

“Let me see?” Eric extends his hand.

Taking a deep breath, you place your injured hand in his. 

Warm, calloused fingers undo the binding currently covering the wound and toss them to the subway floor. It feels nice to let your hand breathe a bit, get some air. With just a featherlight touch, Eric traces his index finger around the mottled skin. The delicate touch sends goosebumps up your arm. If he notices them, he doesn’t say. 

A sense of disappointment fills your gut when he releases your hand to get fresh bandages. You chew on your chapped bottom lip as you watch Eric rummage through the Phantom of the Opera tote bag you’d snagged from one of those tourist gift shops. 

He sprays a bit of disinfectant spray on your hand, the mist feeling doubly cold after having the warmth of his large hand enveloping yours. Next comes a fresh bandage. Eric always applies them so carefully, making sure it’s not too tight but gives your hand some support. You watch him as he works, your eyes taking in the small details of his face while he’s busy focusing on something else.

His dark eyelashes are so long that they kiss his cheeks with every blink. The curls on the top of his head are messy from everything they’ve been through, but it’s unkempt in a charming way. It amazes you how dry his lips are from dehydration, yet they still look so pink and inviting. 

Eric secures the bandage on your hand, and you momentarily move on to admiring the color and depth of his eyes when you realize he’s finished and no longer distracted. 

Heat comes to your face, so you lift your injury up to inspect it, hoping to give you a minute to cool down. 

“Thank you,” you whisper when you lay your hand back down in your lap. 

“Of course.”

The good thing about needing to keep quiet during all of this is that none of the silences could be interpreted as awkward. It’s just self-preservation. 

It goes on that way for about ten minutes before you feel your head get heavy and decide to lean it against Eric’s shoulder. It’s not long before he gently rests his head on top of yours. Despite the circumstances around you, a small smile grows on your lips.

But your peace doesn’t last long. A groaning of metal and the now too-familiar skittering of legs or pincers or whatever they’re called. 

By the sound of it, you guess that the creature is coming from your left, somewhere down the subway track. But there’s no reason for it to know you’re here. As long as you can remain quiet, the monster should just pass you by without trouble. 

A hitch in breath from beside you grabs your attention though. Your head jerks in the direction of Eric to find his breathing speed up and his eyes widen in that recognizable panic. 

Pressing one hand to his shoulder, you get his attention and his head whips to face you. With your other, injured hand, you hold up a finger to your mouth for him to stay quiet.

Eric nods but the rate of his breathing only increases. You shake your head and lean in towards him. 

“Breathe.” The words could barely be considered a full whisper. 

You’ve helped him through these anxiety attacks a few times now so you try to tell yourself you can do it again. You can’t blame the poor guy for being so scared, either. 

The clicking of the approaching monster comes closer then stops. It feels as if time pauses while you wait to see what will happen now. 

Smashing the play button, the creature falls from where it must have been crawling on the ceiling, to land on the subway platform.

Eric jumps and you see his teeth clench together as he tries to keep the panic at bay. 

Step by crunching step, the being stalks closer to your subway car. Even though it can’t see you, instinct tells you to get further out of sight.

As silently as possible, you scoot over so there’s enough room for you to lay flat on the floor of the car. Eric glances down at you and you motion for him to do the same. He gives you a quick nod and with shaking hands, moves to lay down next to you.

Within the cramped space it’s hard for two adults to lay flat, side by side, so Eric ends up on his side, facing you. If you turned your head to look at him, your noses would brush. 

One long black limb stretches out from the creature and crushes a piece of metal right outside your car—probably the remains of an adjoining car. 

Eric’s anxiety spikes again and before you can think about it, you wrap your arm around his shoulders and bring his body down on top of yours. 

It’s not the most comfortable angle for either of you, almost awkward. But Eric wastes no time grabbing onto your waist, his head falling to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

Consciously, you slow your breathing down in hopes that Eric’s will follow your lead. 

Another crunch of metal rents the air and you both jump, clinging tighter to one another. Eric’s grip on your body changed positions slightly, and now his head is resting right over your heart. 

You glance down and watch as Eric visibly calms. He takes a few deep breaths and lets his eyes slip closed as he lays against you. 

It takes you a few moments to realize what caused the change. Eric’s head is on its side, his right ear directly over your heart. He’s listening to your heartbeat. And it’s calming him. The thought alone makes your heart rate speed up. 

Slowly, you reach up and gently rest your hand in his hair. He tilts his chin up so he can see your face and you give him a small smile. The one he gives you in return brings forward the confidence to begin running your fingers through Eric’s soft curls. 

The two of you stay that way, listening as the creature moves farther and farther away, until you can’t hear it at all anymore.

But even then, after the immediate threat is gone and everything seems peaceful and calm around you, you both still stay that way. His hands holding onto your body, his head over your heart, and you carding your fingers through his curls. 

Maybe this subway car is a better place to be than you originally thought. 

[devidbutler]

Make Relationship strong.

[the-kr8tor]

She Chose Me

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Ekko asks you to help him pierce his ear, but it leads to something unexpected.

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), established relationship, childhood friends to lovers (speed run edition), lovestruck! Ekko, spoilers for season 2, CW blood mention, fluff.

@yumeaoka-chan -- I combined your prompt (using z-drive after R confesses) with this one I hope it's okay! If not I can still do your request 🫶

Navigation

“Stop moving, Ekko.” Your hands pause on his ear lobe, the needle in between your index and thumb shakes slightly from trepidation.

“I'm not.” He says, brows pinched together, nose scrunched up in front of the cracked hand mirror he's holding.

“Yes, you are. You're fidgeting.” Leaning down, knee pressed on the side of his thigh whilst he's sitting down on a tiny stool. Chin laying atop his shoulder, you stare at him through the mirror. “Just breathe, boss man.” He huffs at the nickname, the small smile on his lips betraying the annoyed huff.

Ekko seems confident in his seat, brown eyes steady, breathing stable and his hands don't tremble despite the looming danger he's about to face. Danger you're about to face.

The tree house is brightly lit with the warm lamp illuminating directly at him and you. But the air around you sits heavy with worry and fear for what's to come. He may seem fine on the outside, but he's frozen with fear inside. His stomach feels like it's about to flip at any moment, breath heavy inside his throat, and heart pounding with every second it ticks by. He's afraid, deadly afraid. But he won't let it show, especially to you. And yet, you know. You can see it in how his eyes dart back and forth from the clock ticking in the corner, then over to the reflection of your face. You've known him for a long time, ever since you grew up with him on the same streets.

Familiarity comes with it, affection dragged alongside the familiarity.

“I'll just do it myself.” Twisting around in his seat, stool squeaking, he tries to grab the clean needle from you. He fails when you move it away from his reach. “C’mon, if you don't want to do it, I'll do it.”

“Too late for that. Besides, I already disinfected it.” You tilt your head with the same look you give him whenever you catch him lying. Surrendering, he drops his hand to his lap.

“Then why are you hesitating?” His eyes narrow at you, trying to ignore how his jacket looks good on you. “Do you still not believe me that it'll look good?”

“No, I believe you.” You click your tongue, pushing the swivel stool so that his back is turned away from you. He rolls his eyes at your indignation. “I know you'll look good with anything, Ekko.” Lifting up the mirror with your hand wrapped gently around his wrist, you can see yourself in the mirror again, and how his eyes avoid your own. He doesn't flinch from the contact, he languishes in it. “It’s just that— your timing is a bit off.”

You've iced his bruises, lovingly painted on his face with the same hourglass shape almost everyday, it's only natural that you'd pierce his ear too. Despite your initial protest.

“No time like the present.” Ekko glances at your reflection, your eyes boring into the side of his head with worry. For a second, he contemplates whether or not he should tell you what happened in the alternate universe. But he thinks it's better off telling you about his feelings for you rather than explain what he experienced. One day he'll tell you, but for now he focuses on winning the war so that day would come. It's easier to explain that he's been in love with you for the past seven or so years. But he won't actually do it now, right?

“I thought about it, Y/N. I'm sure.”

Smiling, you take his chin gently in your hand, making him face the mirror and in turn face you. “I know you don't do anything half assed.” Flicking your eyes at his hair, you smile wider, “I mean, that hair?” You whistle lowly. “You look fucking dapper, more than ready to take on the whole noxian army.”

Ekko swallows thickly, hands clammy, and the mirror in danger of slipping from his grip. “Thanks.” Inhaling, he hides his flustered self effortlessly. He's experienced in that area after years of doing it. He clears his throat. “Can you please just do it?”

“Of course.” You lean away, assuming the previous position of you holding the needle at his earlobe. He can't ignore how warm your hands are, or how your eyes trace the slope of his face with a sneaky look. “When you stop squirming that is.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ekko swiftly twists the seat to face you once again. The sudden momentum has you almost falling backwards, if not for his hands holding and catching you in place, you would've fallen flat on your back. You notice his warm hands on your bare waist, cropped shirt leaving your skin naked and in full display for him.

You thought that he would pull back from the contact and how you look at him with wild eyes, but within a second, he pulls you in, standing you in between his legs. Placing your hand on his shoulders, and the other accidentally on his bare stomach, you're careful not to poke him with the needle. Your eyes never left his, and his own never left the comfort of your stare.

“I don't…” His eyes stare intently, hands squeezing the dip of your hips. “...Squirm.”

Your skin is aflame, goosebumps spreading like wildfire all over you. “N–No, you don't.” You feel like a puddle, and he's ready to soak you right up.

He nods once, taking your wrist and placing the needle to graze at the shell of his ear. “Glad we could finally agree.”

Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you sigh. “I'm worried about you, Ekko.”

“Is that why you're stalling?” He asks, leaning against your hand as he stares up at you with soft eyes.

“That, and I've only pierced ears thrice in my life. Two for me, one for Scar.” Chuckling, you brush your thumb right under his tired eyes. There's a shine on those eyes you love so much, something akin to hope. You know he saw something in those months he was gone. He isn't ready yet to tell you, but you're willing to wait and stick around just for him. He doesn't even need to tell you anything, he's already here back with you and that's enough. “I–I don't know what's gonna happen out there. I know not getting injured is out of the question, but please, I still want to tell you to be careful.”

His vision flashes back to you in the other universe, where your eyes aren't permanently etched with fatigue, lips forever pressed together in a smile. She was you, and her lips were on his own for a moment. But he knows you and her aren't the same person. Both were born and raised in Zaun, but lived in two different circumstances.

And yet, both chose to be with him.

“Ekko?” With your voice calling him, he blinks and your face greets him back, the same face he grew up with, the same face he loved throughout the years. “I won't pierce your ear until you promise me.”

“I love you.” He blurts out, but not lacking sincerity.

You chuckle, needle almost slipping from your fingers. “You do?”

“Yeah, figured, why the hell not?” His nonchalance helps hide his apprehension.

“Is this your way of making me pierce your ears?” You say through the unshed tears.

Ekko raises a brow, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile. “You're stalling again.”

“This time I'm not.” Sitting down on his lap to level with him, he graciously lets you with his hand pushing on your waist so you could be closer to him. His hands never left your body, holding you in place. Cupping his cheeks, you pull him closer to your waiting lips. “I was just taking the time to simmer in your confession. Scar owes me lunch.”

“You bet on—? Shut up about Scar—” with a soft push against the small of your back, he meets halfway with you. Finally sealing your lips with a much awaited kiss.

Ekko hums against you, the sound reverberating from your lips down to your chest, filling it with warmth. He holds you flush against him. Chest to chest, arms holding you impossibly closer. The sound of your lips in sync with his echoes around the small room. Eyes closed, you memorize how he feels on you, how his breath stutters against you, and how his eyes fluttered closed the second you kissed him back with the same softness and fervent.

His hands slither across your back until he blindly reaches for the back of your neck, pulling you closer, angling your face to better kiss you fully. It's the first kiss out of many, sloppy, smiling in between, teeth still clashing together, and nose knocking against one another, but it still has you breathless in his arms.

“Ekko.” You whisper, leaning slightly away to intake air back into your lungs. “I love you too. Have been since you accidentally knocked me unconscious with a wrench.”

He blinks, hand moving away from you to pull at the rope on his z-drive. The world goes back a few seconds with you locking lips with him, heaving in place, hands balled around his hair.

“I love you too. Have been since you accidentally knocked me unconscious with a wrench.”

He beams at you, pulling and releasing the rope back to reverse time once more to hear the words he has only heard in his dreams.

You pull back away from him, lips obviously kissed. “I love you too. Have been since you accidentally knocked me unconscious with a wrench.”

Ekko chuckles, placing his forehead atop yours to breathe you in. You giggle, releasing his hair to slide your hands down and move towards his chest to feel his beating heart against your palms.

“Sorry, just wanted to hear you say it again. You fell for me because of that?”

Your brows furrow at his peculiar words. Eyes moving at his hand that's still clutching the rope, you laugh. “You could've just asked me to say it again. The wrench probably knocked something loose.” You joke, still panting from the kiss.

Leaning away, his knuckles brush along your jaw then down to your lips where he wipes the sheen with his thumb. “And I wanted to kiss you again.”

“You should've said so.” Your eyes are practically shaped like hearts. “Pucker up, Ekko.”

He smiles, closing the distance once again. The kiss was much more familiar this time, soft and gentle, savouring every second of it. Your nose still nudges his own, but it's intentional this time. He still smiles during the kiss, but it's because you do too. Once he reluctantly moves away to inhale, you grab his face, pecking all over his cheek, chin, nose and forehead, until there's no space that's left unkissed. You pull away, and he does the same, lips smacking carefully against the tip of your nose, in between your eyes, and cheekbones, until you're a giggling mess in his arms.

Ekko looks at you with a lopsided smile, giddiness etched on his ecstatic expression. “Now we're both stalling.”

“At this point we're not getting anything done. Baby blue might bust in here to tell us off.”

“Later then.” He promises, a promise to be careful, a promise that he'll come back to you alive.

You nod, kissing him chastely, eyes tightly closed with a hope that your kiss would single handedly protect him. Pulling away, you grin at him, easing him some more. “Later, I promise.” You vow him the same thing.

“Okay,” he pats your thigh, reluctantly lifting you off his lap. “Come and stab me.”

Shaking your head with a smile, you take a fresh needle and quickly disinfect it since the needle you were holding onto is long gone in between the floorboards. Cleaning your hands, you shake your nerves away, and the trembling in your hands, not from the anxiety but from his breathtaking kiss.

Holding his ear lobe, you're the one holding your breath in once he nods at you to do it. With the needle piercing him, and the new silver hoop earring in, you marvel at the sight of your handiwork.

You hold the mirror up, showing him the back. “You didn't bleed much, thank fuck. What do you think?”

Ekko, rotates on his seat again, grabbing you by your hips with his finger looped around your belt loops and pulling you closer as he looks up at you with endearment.

“I like it, what do you think?” He plops his head on your shoulder, careful not to nudge his new piercing.

“You're right, it suits you. You look very handsome.” You whisper, hand splayed over his back, and lips blowing air into his warm ear, making him flinch away. He looks at you, feigning offense but his mirrored smile says otherwise. “You're welcome, you still need to pay me though.”

“Oh really?” The silver earring sparkles in the light as he tilts his head teasingly. “In what kind?”

You pretend to think. “Hmm, I'll take payment in kisses.”

He shrugs, taking your chin in between his fingers. “Pucker up then. I have too much so I expect some spare change right after.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Marbled Steps

— Marble requires precision, care, and the right tools for the job. Not so different from people. With too much time, stubbornness, and bandages, even the toughest exteriors can be chipped away.

— Lighter

Light spoilers for Lighter's backstory, I made up most of it. [Masterlist]

When I tell you how long I was uninterested in ZZZ until I got two-hit comboed by Lighter and Harumasa? I went a bit too crazy in the backstory but inb4 zzz rips my headcanon's away from me.

Lighter

When Lighter was first introduced to the Sons of Calydon, you knew he was bad news. It was written all over him. He had the dead-eyed stare of someone just coasting through life on autopilot, a man who moved because he had to, not because he wanted to. His knuckles—split, scarred, and raw—looked more like hardened sinew and calluses than anything resembling normal skin. It was the kind of damage that didn’t come from a single fight but months of them like his fists were tools and nothing more. And then there was his attitude—or lack of it. He didn’t talk much, hardly made eye contact, and moved with an almost mechanical precision. You’d met machines with more personality than that.

You were against him joining from the start. You didn’t care how good of a fighter he might have been or how Big Daddy swore he could be useful. There was something off about Lighter, something unsettling that tugged at the back of your mind like a warning you couldn’t quite articulate. But orders were orders, and Big Daddy’s word was gospel. So you swallowed your irritation, slipped on a pair of gloves, grabbed the man’s rough, battered hand, and dragged him toward your makeshift clinic without so much as a look back. The rest of the group had been watching the newcomer with wary curiosity, but you were more practical. There was no way you’d let those mangled hands spread whatever grime or infection he was carrying to the others. Your first moments with Lighter were marked by the stinging smell of disinfectant and cotton swabs as your audience.

After that disaster of an introduction, you rarely saw Lighter unless it was in brief, passing moments. He never lingered, never stayed to chat, joke, or even let himself absorb the group's chaotic energy. To him, everything seemed to boil down to business, payment, and the next job. He was like a ghost in the group’s midst, always there yet never really present. The Sons of Calydon had their share of larger-than-life personalities, the kinds of people who could fill a room just by breathing, but none of it seemed to leave an impression on Lighter. Everything they threw at him whether it was good-natured teasing, warm camaraderie, or even the occasional shouting match, bounced off him like rain drops against a stone wall. Not a crack, not a chip. For a while, you figured he’d just up and leave, disappearing into the wind in search of whatever suicidal purpose had brought him to this part of the Outer Ring in the first place. It seemed like something he’d do. Pack up without a word, leave everything behind like it didn’t matter, and press forward with the same hollow determination he always carried. And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you’d miss him all that much. How do you miss someone who never really lets you know them to begin with?

That’s why the scene you stumbled onto one afternoon caught you off guard and shifted your entire worldview. You’d been walking along the outskirts of Blazewood when you saw a group of thugs closing in on someone. At first, it was hard to tell who they had surrounded, the Outer Ring was full of conflict after all, and gang scraps weren’t anything new. But then you recognized the familiar silhouette. Lighter. He stood in the center of the group, shoulders squared and fists clenched at his sides. The thugs spat words about how “sticking your noses into other people's business,” was against the Outer Ring’s unspoken rules, accusations sharp and heavy with menace. You didn’t catch every detail, but the gist was clear enough. The Sons of Calydon had made enemies and, apparently, Lighter had been dealing with them all on his own. That realization hit you harder than you expected. You hadn’t heard so much as a whisper about conflicts between the Sons of Calydon and the other gangs. Had Lighter been dealing with this on his own? Stepping into fights, taking the heat, and keeping the peace in silence while the rest of you remained oblivious? The thought gnawed at you, unsettling in a way that lingered like a bad taste. It was just like him, wasn’t it? To keep the dirty work quiet, never letting anyone see the mess he was cleaning up.

Naturally—because really, what else could you have expected—Lighter had won the fight, even with the odds stacked heavily against him. It was hard not to feel a flicker of awe watching him fight with nothing but his fists. His movements were raw and unrefined, a brute force approach that relied on instinct and sheer willpower more than precision. Still, there was something almost mesmerizing about it, the way he pushed through every hit like it was nothing, determined to end the fight as quickly as possible so he could move on to whatever errand he thought was more important. But as the group's medic, it made you insane. Watching him use adrenaline like some sort of makeshift painkiller, ignoring injuries that any reasonable person would be on the ground crying about, was enough to make your blood boil. Your medic bay was the only place in the Outer Ring anyone could trust to provide reliable treatment, and Lighter’s insistence on throwing himself into fights like he was made of titanium was testing your patience. Seriously, how the hell was he still walking around like everything was fine after taking a beating like that? The man was a walking contradiction—a fighter who refused to stay down, but also too stubborn to take care of himself afterward. Part of you wanted to stomp over there, shake him until some sense rattled loose, and yell at him to actually rest for once in his life. The other part of you wanted to drag him straight to your clinic and lock him there until he got the idea through his thick skull.

Once the fight was over, the thugs sprawled out and groaning, your patience had enough. You marched over to him, your footsteps heavy with purpose, and stopped just short of planting yourself directly in his way. Lighter, of course, didn’t react to your presence. He probably knew you were there anyway because, on top of being the stubborn wall, he just had to be creepy like that. His knuckles were red and raw, and the bruise already blooming under his eye told you he’d taken a hit harder than he could have if he just stepped back instead of going for that last swing. The blank look he shot you, like nothing was out of the ordinary, only fueled the fire bubbling in your chest.

“Come on, you’re done here,” you snapped, grabbing him by the wrist before he could so much as protest. The man might’ve been stronger than you, but you weren’t about to let him wriggle out of this one. Not today. “We’re going to the clinic, and don’t even think about arguing. You can walk on your own or I’ll drag you, your call.”

Predictably, he grumbled under his breath, his resistance half-hearted at best. You could see it in the way his shoulders sagged—he wasn’t about to fight you on this, not when he was already spent. Still, he made it clear he wasn’t happy about it, his muttered complaints trailing behind you as you led him toward your makeshift clinic.

“If you don’t let me patch you up, I swear to Big Daddy I’m ratting you out,” you warned, casting a sharp glance over your shoulder. “And you know the girls will overreact. I’ll even sit back with some popcorn and watch the fireworks if that’s what you want. So either you cooperate now, or you deal with them later.”

That finally got him to stop grumbling, though he shot you a glare that might’ve been intimidating if you weren’t already used to it. He let out a defeated sigh, dragging his boots as if to make the walk to your clinic as dramatic as possible. A groan escaped him as he muttered, “Whatever you say, firecracker.”

Despite the irritation brewing in your chest at the nickname, you felt a small flicker of satisfaction. At least he was coming with you—albeit reluctantly. You didn’t need to say it out loud, but deep down, you knew this stubborn idiot needed someone to force him to stop. To take a breath. To realize that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry everything on his own. And if that meant tracking him down to drag him into your clinic every time he came back battered and bruised, so be it. You've been meaning to work on your arm strength.

Of course, because Big Daddy had a knack, almost like a seer, for spotting the potential in people, Lighter eventually began to change. Slowly, he warmed up to the group, and something shifted in those dead eyes of his. A bit of light returned, faint at first, like the flicker of a dying match, but steady enough to notice. He loosened up, no longer wound so tight that you half-expected him to snap at any second. The coiled tension that once defined his every move started to unravel, replaced by something...well- alive. No longer waiting for someone to tell him what direction to throw his hands. Pieces of his old personality, buried under what felt like miles of dust, mud, and bad memories, began to surface. Little green buds sprouting where you hadn’t thought life could grow. It wasn’t anything dramatic, nothing you’d see in some triumphant moment in the movies, but it was there. Small things. Like the way he'd actually sit down beside you around the campfire rather than brooding in the shadows or how his shoulders seemed just a bit less rigid when you needed to patch him up for the nth time.

He still wasn’t good with names, though. Not at all. The nickname "Firecracker" had seemed to stick and you had rightfully assumed he didn't actually know your real name. But for everyone else? It was like his brain short-circuited whenever he had to recall someone’s moniker. He’d stumble over syllables, brow furrowed like it was the hardest battle he’d ever fought until he finally landed on something almost right. You remembered the time he’d called Caesar “Seasaw” one too many times. The sight of watching him fumble, all rough edges and misplaced vowels, had been funny in a way you couldn’t quite explain that you couldn't help but laugh. Funny, but also strangely endearing. There was something about seeing this man, this stoic fighter who seemed born to brawl, turning pink at the ears, tripping over words like a schoolboy, that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t completely unreachable.

That didn’t mean he stopped getting into fights. Lighter was still Lighter. He kept his demons close, dragging them with him like shadows wherever he went. His fists still led him places, often leaving him knocking on your door at all hours of the day or night. He’d show up with a split lip, scraped knuckles that looked like they’d been dragged across gravel and that same hollowed stare that never quite went away, no matter how much light he’d let in. You’d huff, muttering something about how you weren’t running a full-time hospital, but he’d just sit there quietly as you patched him up, his silence heavy enough to drown out the room. Even though he had never "lost", he didn't look like a winner. Still...it was an improvement that he was at least coming to you rather than hiding away to lick his wounds by himself.

Once, you’d joked that he must like the color of his blood with how often he bled for no good reason. You’d expected him to brush it off, maybe fire back some sharp quip of his own, but instead, he’d muttered—deadpan—that he’d thrown up a few minutes ago just at the sight of it. That shut you up quick. You’d stopped making jokes about his health after that. It wasn’t as funny when you realized how thin the line was that he walked every day, or how much of himself he’d chipped away just to keep going. Baby steps, you had to remind yourself. You weren’t sure what exactly you were hoping for—some grand breakthrough, maybe—but you knew better than to expect too much too soon. Every failed attempt at getting him to crack a smile felt like a loss, but you’d tell yourself it was progress just to keep from giving up on him entirely. You weren’t going to admit it out loud, but part of you had started to care. A little too much, maybe.

While it was a slow and steady climb, everyone eventually reached the top. Sure, you haven’t seen Lighter let out a full-blown laugh like the rest of the group does, and honestly, you think you’d be terrified if you ever did. The idea of Lighter laughing, really laughing, feels like something unnatural, like it’d crack the very foundation of who he was. But still, progress is progress, and you can confidently say that Lighter has earned his place among the Sons of Calydon. He’s become a part of your little-found family, even if he fits into it like a jagged puzzle piece. He didn't even run away this time when you tried to take a picture to commemorate this grandiose development!

When Billy was let loose to pursue his own journey, it felt like the end of an era. Billy had been the group’s champion, the one everyone looked to when the fights got hard or the nights got dark. With him gone, the question of who would step up next loomed over everyone like a heavy cloud. Although, wasn't the answer obvious? It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself vouching for Lighter. It made sense, didn’t it? He was the best, after all—undefeated in every scrap, a relentless force that never seemed to break no matter what got thrown his way. His fists were as reliable as clockwork, and if anyone could carry the title of champion, it was him. The decision came easy for the group. A few voices of agreement, some claps on the back, and it was done. Lighter himself didn't agree with the results of the poorly run election, a grimace on his face pulling his mouth at odd angles, but alas, once you get the ball rolling there was no stopping. But the moment felt big, even if no one dared to call it that. There’s something about the way a shift like that cements someone’s place in the group, making them more than just a stray taken in. Lighter wasn’t just there anymore; he belonged.

To mark the occasion, Burnice cracked open a can of Nitro Fuel and passed it his way, the group’s rough equivalent of a ceremonial toast. But it was when you stepped forward, holding out something small but significant, that the moment truly landed. A red scarf—fresh, clean, and carefully presented by you, their makeshift doctor. A memento from Billy, just with a few added accessories to fit the newly appointed champion. You weren’t sure if Lighter even understood the weight of the scarf, but he took it without a word. For a heartbeat, you swore you saw something flicker behind his tired eyes—a spark of gratitude and resolve, maybe, or something close to it.

And then it happened. A sound so quiet you almost missed it. A soft laugh, barely more than a breath, escaped Lighter’s lips. It was faint and rough, like a memory of laughter rather than the real thing, but it was there. It wasn’t the kind of laugh you’d expect—nothing loud or joyful—but it was enough to make the moment stick with you. You didn’t comment on it, though. You just smiled and stepped back, letting the rest of the group crowd around him with their half-joking cheers and pats on the back. For all his deadpan looks and quiet stoicism, Lighter was their champion now. And if the soft laugh was any indication, maybe—just maybe—he was starting to believe it too.

Really, that should have been your first warning. A giant, blaring signal complete with flashing red lights and alarm bells. Seeing those lips part in a husky, unguarded laugh that escaped before he could regret it, and watching that light—soft but unmistakable—return to his eyes should’ve told you everything you needed to know: the next few months were going to leave you an absolute mess. How you didn’t notice it sooner is beyond you. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was because you had your hands full, or maybe you were just being an oblivious mule. Either way, it hit you like a freight train one day: Lighter was… really handsome. Incredibly so. Unfairly so. As the medic for the Sons of Calydon, you’ve seen more than your fair share of half-naked men and women—enough that the sight doesn’t even faze you anymore. A bare chest is a bare chest when you’re stitching someone up or doing routine physicals. And for the longest time, that applied to Lighter too. If he stomped into your clinic bloodied and shirtless, you were all business. It was just work. Professional.

But now? Now that Lighter had started to loosen up, to let himself belong among the group, you were seeing him in a very, very different light. From playing along with Caesar's ridiculous scenarios, staying sober so Lucy could finally stop playing caretaker and let herself relax, to turning the radio's volume down when he noticed Piper about to drift off to sleep. Most importantly, there was no damn distraction to save you when he pulled off that worn biker jacket and undershirt during sparring matches with Burnice. It made sense, you told yourself. He didn’t want his clothes to catch fire. Burnice’s sparring matches weren’t exactly gentle, and leather jackets weren’t fireproof. It was practical, completely logical—nothing more! Certainly not a ploy to make you feel like you are on the verge of seeing the gates of heaven far too early. And yet, there you were. Frozen. Staring. Watching droplets of sweat roll down the sharp lines of his abdomen like they were defying gravity just to mess with you. Forcing yourself to look away was suddenly a task requiring herculean strength. And the worst part? Your brain didn’t even give you a fighting chance. It wandered without your permission, a little voice whispering things like “Oh, so that’s what a body sculpted by fistfights and bad decisions looks like...what were we thinking about again?"

You were trying to be professional—really, you were—but it was getting harder every single day. Case in point: Lighter had just dropped onto the bed inside the medic bay after another job, peeling off his jacket with that same maddening, careless motion he always had—like undressing in front of you wasn’t a one-way ticket to your complete and utter ruin. And to make matters worse? He didn’t even have any real injuries! There was one—count it, one—itty bitty little cut on the side of his hip. Barely even noticeable. You were convinced he’d probably done it himself just to have an excuse to bother you. How dare he. You dragged in a deep breath, squaring your shoulders as if preparing for battle. Because you need to make it clear, this was life and death for you at this point.

“Really?” you said, deadpan, trying not to look directly at him as he lounged with that infuriatingly calm energy. “You’re out here making a scene over this?”

Lighter tilted his head slightly, his expression neutral but with just enough of a smirk to drive you crazy, “Didn’t say it was bad. Figured you’d wanna check.”

“You mean this tiny paper cut sent you crying here?” You let out an exaggerated sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the tiny cut on his hip as if it were a serious injury—though you couldn’t quite bring yourself to believe that. It was just a scrap. A tiny thing. Yet, there he was, acting like he was on the brink of death. You fumbled with the bandages, your hands betraying you as they shook more than they should have. You stared at the spot, trying to ignore how absurd this whole situation was, but still feeling the pressure of his steady gaze. Your fingers weren’t cooperating, fumbling as you tore off a thin piece of tape. This was supposed to be simple, yet here you were, making a bigger deal of it than it really was.

“Still standing, aren’t I?” Lighter cracked one eye open to glance at you, and for a second—just a second—you thought you saw the faintest glimmer of amusement. This cheeky brat.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, finally pulling out the smallest bandage you could find. You crouched beside him, determined to slap it on and get him out of there as quickly as possible. But of course, when you leaned closer to inspect the so-called injury, you realized your mistake. Lighter hadn’t moved an inch, his posture relaxed, like this was just another ordinary moment for him. That lazy confidence of his made everything worse, making it harder to ignore the sharp, defined lines of his stomach, the way his skin felt warm even through the faintest brush of your fingertips. Your breath caught for a split second, but you forced yourself to focus. You swallowed hard, trying not to dwell on the way your pulse was racing, and pressed the bandage over the "wound", not letting your fingertips linger on the soft skin, “There. All better. You’ll live to fight another day, champ.”

You stood up quickly, your movements stiff as you gathered the scattered supplies, and turned your back to him, half out of instinct, half out of necessity. You couldn’t risk him seeing the way your cheeks had flushed, the heat creeping up your neck and settling on your face like an unwanted mark. The last thing you needed was for him to catch on to how much he’d affected you. No, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing. It would be far too embarrassing, and you definitely weren’t ready to face that kind of vulnerability, not with him, not yet.

Lighter let out a soft chuckle, the sound light and maddeningly soft. You hated how it seemed to echo in your chest, stirring something you couldn’t quite name. It'll be imprinting into the folds of your brain labeled specifically for his laughs because you were a psycho who did things like that, “Told you it wasn’t bad.”

“Next time you come in here for no reason, I’m charging you a medic’s fee. Double if you don’t bleed. Someone’s got to keep you in line,” you shot back, but your voice came out softer than you’d intended, almost warm. You couldn’t help it. The way the sunlight caught him just right, casting gentle shadows across the sharp planes of his face, made everything feel… quieter. For a beat, the air hung heavy between you, thick with something unspoken. His gaze locked onto yours, steady and unreadable, and you felt a strange, unexpected pull.

“Yeah, but if I fall, I know you’ll catch me and pull me back," Lighter’s voice was casual, but it was heavy. Af if he was stating a fact or a universal truth. He tilted his head back against the wall, the gesture almost too relaxed for these words, as if time itself had slowed down just for him. His hand brushed over the bandages you’d carefully placed, the motion languid and unhurried like he wasn’t just tending to a simple injury but savoring the quiet, the stillness between you. Each pass of his fingers over the bandages was deliberate, a slow rhythm that seemed to draw out the moment, making it stretch and linger like he wasn’t in any hurry to go anywhere. What the hell? What are you even supposed to say to that? This is so unfair, super unfair.

“Anyway, you’re good to go,” you said quickly, your voice a little more strained than you intended as you tossed the used wipes into the trash, taking a small step back. You found yourself brushing your hand over your ear, almost absentmindedly, as if trying to shake off the lingering warmth of the moment, or maybe just to steady yourself. You couldn’t quite tell. You checked for any heat under your touch, feeling a bit self-conscious, but the action didn’t feel quite as innocent as it should have. “Try not to get into another fight before dinner, would you?”

You can hear Lighter stand, stretching with a deep, satisfied groan that you definitely didn’t file away in your mental catalog for later, “No promises firecracker. Some fights come lookin’ for me. I'll save you a plate, but don't take too long or I'll eat it instead.”

You rolled your eyes, but despite yourself, you couldn’t fight the smile that tugged at your lips as you waved him away. Damn him. The way he carried himself, so effortlessly fitted into his bones, made your heart do that annoying little flip that you couldn’t quite control. The smile lingered longer than you wanted it to, and you hated how much he could still get under your skin. Baby steps, you'd tell yourself, but still progress.

It wasn’t as if you’d ever expected anything to happen between you and Lighter. Sure, Caesar liked to go on about destiny and how her romance novels always had similar plots, but that didn’t mean anything. You were fine with things the way they were—really, you were. Your feelings weren’t so ridiculous or territorial that you’d go snapping the heads off anyone who talked to him. In fact, you were glad that everyone thought of him fondly. He deserved that. He had a way of drawing people in, making them feel seen, and honestly, it was nice to know you weren’t the only one who appreciated that about him. Still, you just wished everyone would stop trying to play matchmaker. That, quite literally, would be the worst thing ever. Not because the idea of Lighter seeing you as something more wasn’t appealing—it was, and you’d be lying if you said otherwise—but because the Sons of Calydon collectively shared one working brain cell at best. The very thought of them trying to orchestrate a confession or some contrived romantic scenario was mortifying. Caesar, of course, was the ringleader of it all, constantly preaching her philosophy of bold, loud declarations of love, chest puffed up and voice ringing for all the world to hear.

And every time, you’d look her dead in the eye and remind her of the months she spent silently pining over her first love, fantasizing about confessions she never made until it was too late and they’d moved away. That love story had ended not with a bold declaration, but with an awkward goodbye and the realization that she never even liked them in the first place. Besides, the thought of your feelings being laid bare for everyone to see? If that ever happened, you’d find the nearest oil pit and swan dive into it without a second thought. The embarrassment alone would be enough to finish you off. No, it was better to keep things as they were, safe and uncomplicated, even if it meant ignoring the nagging thought of what could be. Some things, after all, were better left unsaid.

Burnice was only marginally better than Caesar. Sure, she wasn’t quite as loud about her “proclaim your burning love and passion” philosophy, but she had her own infuriating quirks—chief among them being her obsession with matchmaking. Maybe all that Nitro Fuel was starting to mess with her brain. She had an uncanny knack for spotting opportunities to stir the pot, and whenever the moment arose, she’d make a scene. Without fail, she’d find some contrived excuse to pull Lighter into your orbit, nudging the two of you together as if proximity alone would somehow spark a whirlwind romance. Never mind the fact that you already knew Lighter well enough—too well, really. You’d seen the man at his lowest, whining like a baby about heatstroke after stubbornly choosing to wear that ridiculous heavy leather jacket in the middle of a blazing afternoon. And yet, Burnice acted like you were strangers in need of a push, her attempts so blatantly obvious that you couldn’t look her in the eye for a week afterward. Those eyes of hers practically sparkled with mischief, and the memory of her smug expression alone was enough to make your skin crawl.

But what made it worse—so much worse—was that Lighter wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t oblivious to the madness unfolding around him, just tripping on the reason why it was happening. Perhaps it was an inside joke at your expense? You’d never forget the moment when he tilted his head, looking at you with that furious concern, about if someone broke your heart and if he needed to knock their lights out. It had been said with such casual sincerity that it had left you utterly speechless, your brain scrambling to decide whether to laugh, cry, or crawl into the nearest hole and never emerge.

Piper and Lucy, thankfully, had a more hands-off approach to the whole situation, though that didn’t mean they left you entirely unbothered. They understood, perhaps better than anyone else, how precarious the balance was. How one wrong step could send everything crashing down. Still, their restraint was only relative. Piper couldn’t resist her playful jabs, her slow teasing remarks always accompanied by that sly, knowing smile. And Lucy, ever the practical one, delivered her opinions with the sharp precision of a scalpel, cutting through your defenses whether you wanted her to or not. You half expected her to whip out a whiteboard filled with colorful markers. They had their arguments ready, like they’d been keeping a running list of evidence to throw at you. Piper, with her casual observations about how Lighter’s gaze lingered a little too long when you weren’t looking, and Lucy, with her unshakable conviction that you were too blind to see what was right in front of you. They’d remind you of the small, unmistakable gestures like the way Lighter’s posture changed when you entered the room, how his relaxed indifference seemed to shift into something sharper, more focused. They noticed how he always managed to save his best, most effortless smiles for you, how he’d offer help to you before anyone else without a second thought. Even your name, spoken in passing, seemed to make him perk up like he couldn’t help but respond to anything that revolved around you. Piper loved to point that out, making it seem like some grand cosmic joke you were too stubborn to get, while Lucy preferred to frame it as a ticking clock. To her, it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed him and decided to take their chances.

A gang of Thirens had made a pit stop in Blazewood, their arrival unexpected but surprisingly uneventful. They’d come seeking nothing more than a place to rest, not to stir up trouble, a rarity in and of itself. Kasa, seeing no problem in lending a hand, had granted them permission to stay, with the firm condition that they kept the peace. To everyone’s astonishment, they honored her terms without so much as a hint of hostility. It wasn’t often rival gangs showed even a sliver of willingness to cooperate, let alone behave like decent human beings. Rarer still were those who managed to charm the locals, but these Thirens were doing just that. Their easy smiles and polite demeanor had disarmed the townsfolk, who quickly warmed up to them. Laughter could already be heard echoing through the streets, strangers turned companions over shared drinks and stories.

But while everyone else seemed content to embrace the unexpected camaraderie, you were about two seconds away from dunking your head into the nearest barrel of cold water. It wasn’t the Thirens’ presence itself that rattled you, nor their good behavior, but something else entirely—an unspoken frustration simmering just beneath your skin. Your nerves felt frayed, stretched taut, and every moment of forced composure only added fuel to the fire threatening to ignite inside you.

You clenched your fists, trying to steady yourself, but the thought lingered: if you didn’t find a way to cool down, you might just explode like one of Burnice’s flamethrowers, leaving nothing but chaos in your wake.

"Wow, what's your workout routine? Your biceps are so defined."

Never mind cooling off, you were going to rip that lynx Thiren’s tail clean off and kick her straight to the curb before you even thought about dunking your head in cold water. The entire time she’d been in Blazewood, she’d grown bolder and bolder with Lighter, testing the limits of your patience with every sly remark and flirtatious gesture. At first, it was casual. A few light touches here and there, a fleeting brush of her hand as she laughed just a little too hard at one of his blunt jokes. You’d told yourself to let it go. She was a guest, after all, and the last thing anyone needed was unnecessary drama. But then she escalated. Full-blown wrapping her tail around his arm under the pretense of "measuring" the circumference of his triceps-to-biceps ratio? That was the last straw. If she was so curious, she could bring all her questions to you. You’d be happy to explain. Preferably while she was running as fast as her legs could carry her out of town.

Before Lighter can even begin to gently but firmly remove the tail from his bicep, another hand comes down with the speed of a strike, swatting the offending limb away with a swift motion—like a cat swatting at an annoying fly. And a cat would be the perfect comparison for how you look at that moment. Teeth bared, eyes narrowed, claws metaphorically out and ears flat against your head in pure, unfiltered territorial instinct. Your hand immediately shoots up to wrap around Lighter’s other arm, the one that hadn’t been tainted by the lynx’s touch, and you pull it to your chest, holding it possessively. There’s no mistaking the intent in the way you hold onto him, the clear message that this one’s taken so back off.

You and the lynx share a pointed, searing glare. Neither of you bothers to mask the silent standoff, both of you sizing the other up in the most primal way possible. There’s no subtlety in this, it truly is an animal kingdom.

"Sorry, miss, but I need to borrow my gang member for some private business. I'm sure you understand," you say, your smile wide and innocent, though the murder in your eyes is as sharp as a blade. You glance up at Lighter with a pointed, almost desperate look, silently urging him to come with you now. Whatever expression you're wearing—serious, frustrated, or somewhere in between—it’s enough for Lighter to nod and start to move. But just as he takes a step, that damn tail wraps around his arm again, yanking him back like some sort of trap. The lynx’s sly, satisfied grin tells you everything you need to know. She wasn’t done playing yet. You grit your teeth. The only thing left to do is bargain with Burnice and make sure that tail goes up in flames. "Accidentally," of course.

"I'm sure your other members can be asked. You're all capable, aren't you?" The lynx sneers, her ear twitching in agitation as her claws come out in warning. You raise your chin, turning your nose up at her in response. You’d like to see her try. If she thought she could take a swing at you without consequence, she was sorely mistaken. The tension thickens, and it’s all too easy to imagine how this might escalate. You can feel your hands already twitching to grab for her, ready to turn this into a full-blown catfight. But before anything hits the boiling point, Lighter tenses beside you. With a quiet, fluid motion, he frees his arm from both your combined grips, gently but firmly pulling away. It’s a perfect, almost effortless escape, and in that moment, he stands between the two of you like the undefeated champion he truly is. Even between two people crying for his attention, he manages to slip by with ease, a subtle reminder that he’s always in control of the situation.

"Sorry, doc's orders," Lighter says smoothly, his voice laced with a calm finality that brooks no argument, "If you need anything, ask any of the Sons of Calydon. Like you said, we're all capable. And if you’re looking to step up your workout, speak to the boss."

Then, as if to punctuate the moment, he places his hand at the small of your back, his fingers blistering hot against your skin. With a slight push, he leads you away, his steps measured and steady, pulling you effortlessly from the chaos. You resist the urge to glance over your shoulder, but a small, spiteful part of you can’t help but wonder what expression the lynx is wearing. Shock? Disbelief? Maybe even a twinge of jealousy? The thought of her standing there, seething with frustration, gives you a twisted sense of satisfaction. You imagine her, the confident, bold creature who thought she had a chance, now left standing in your wake. But, frankly, you’re too absorbed in the rush you’re feeling—surging through your veins like wildfire. The excitement of the moment, and the subtle victory. It’s intoxicating. You feel like you’re walking on air, every step of Lighter’s guiding hand filling you with a heady sense of power. Maybe seeing the gates of heaven early isn’t so bad after all. The thought flickers in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care. The world is yours now, and nothing, not even a scorned lynx, can take it from you.

"So, you wanna fill me in on what that was firecracker?"

And just like that, you’re plummeting back to earth, gravity pulling you in hard. What was that? Did you black out for a second? Did some other version of you just take over and make a damn fool out of yourself? When did you get so bold, so… possessive? Your heart pounds in your chest as you replay every move, every look, every gesture, and it makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. Mass hysteria, that’s it. That’s the best explanation. Maybe you’re just dreaming, wrapped up in some fevered nightmare. Any second now, you’ll wake up, face buried in a pillow, your heart still racing from the humiliation, and you’ll scream bloody murder into it, swearing never to think about today again. Or… maybe, if you're really unlucky, you’ll throw yourself into the nearest oil pit just to escape this entire disaster. Either way, neither outcome seems particularly comforting, and you’re starting to think maybe both sound equally tempting right now.

"Heat stroke-induced hallucinations. I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," you blurt, the words coming out quicker than your brain can catch up. You force yourself to sound blasé, like you don’t care like it wasn’t a big deal. But deep down, you know it’s a pathetic attempt at saving face. The lie slips off your tongue like water, but it’s as fragile as glass. Lighter’s response is immediate, a bark of laughter that fills the air around you, genuine and light, the kind that could make anyone laugh along, but at this moment, it only makes the pit in your stomach deepens. He knows exactly what you’re doing. He knows you—and here you are, pretending to be clueless.

The silence hangs between you both, a strange mix of relief and tension, and you can’t decide whether it’s a kindness from Lighter—letting you escape the awkwardness—or if he’s just as unsure of what to say next as you are. Either way, it's slowly driving you mad. You can feel your thoughts swirling, like a tornado of "What do I do now?" and "Did I just make a huge mistake?". Hell, you even jumped up from your seat and hissed like some wild animal. You glance at Lighter, his easy stride never faltering, the faintest hint of some satisfied smile still lingering on his lips. It's the perfect opportunity, he doesn't even look freaked out which means even if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, he won't run for the hills. Lighter had followed you. He’d walked right alongside you, and then—he put his hand on your back. It’s still there. You can feel the warmth of it, his fingers almost too casual as they rest on you, a small gesture that has your insides doing flips.

Should you just go for it?

The thought of him being swarmed by others, other people constantly hanging around, making it harder to even get a moment alone with him, suddenly makes everything feel urgent. And the weirdest part? You can’t help but wonder if, for once, it’s your chance to actually get ahead of the chaos. But then there’s the other side of your brain, the one telling you to be careful. The one that reminds you that if this goes wrong, you’ll have to live with the consequences of letting things spiral out of control. It's all too much, too fast, but here you are, standing in the middle of the storm, unsure of whether you’re about to leap into it or run the other way.

Ah, screw it. Big Daddy didn't raise a quitter.

"Lighter, I—" You stumble over your words, your thoughts scrambling as you take a shaky breath, trying to summon the courage to say whatever it is that’s been building up inside you. For a moment, the familiar walls you’ve carefully constructed around yourself seem to crumble, and you feel the weight of it all. The hesitation, the fear, and your own uncertainty. You turn to look up at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s already watching you, eyes soft and steady, not teasing or playful as usual. This time, there’s something different, something deeper. Softer, quieter, more malleable. It’s as if he’s been waiting for you for a long time now. Is this what Lucy was referring to when your back was turned?

"Yeah?" he prompts gently, his voice low and coaxing, as if he knows you need a little push but won’t rush you. His eyes remain fixed on yours, unblinking and patient, making the air feel thick with anticipation. You hesitate, but only for a moment. The weight of his gaze doesn’t feel as heavy as it once did. Instead, it makes your heart race in a way that feels... almost comforting. You can feel the nerves slipping away, the words starting to form at the edge of your tongue.

"I—uh..." You pause, taking a steadying breath, and this time the words come easier, "I just wanted to say that... I don’t think I’ve said it enough, but I really appreciate you. More than you probably know. I know I don’t always show it, but...I-"

You glance up at him again, afraid of what you might see. Would he laugh it off? Or, worse, would he back away? Instead, you find his expression unreadable, but not unkind. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t quite place—a flicker of surprise, maybe, or understanding—but you don’t regret it. Not now. Not when you’ve finally let it out.

"I just wanted to say that I li-"

"Yo! There you both are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

You jump away from Lighter as though he’d just set you on fire, a startled screech bubbling up in your throat before you force it down, stamping it out with all the dignity you can muster. Your heart pounds, and for a split second, you feel the world tilt on its axis. You whip your head around to find Caesar jogging toward you, waving her hand in the air like it’s just another day, completely unaware of the moment she’s just walked in on. Oh, sweet, oblivious Caesar...

"The Thirens challenged us to a friendly match! We can’t exactly go in without our Champion! You free to scuffle, Lighter? Oh, and if anything bad happens, I’m counting on you, Doc!" She beams at you both, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her, and just like that, you feel a little bit of the tension slip away. It’s impossible to stay mad at her when she’s looking at you like that. So full of excitement and energy, completely unaware of the chaos she just walked in on. Lighter, for his part, looks like a newborn fawn. His usual confident swagger seems to falter for a moment as he scratches the back of his neck, a slight blush creeping up his neck that he clearly tries to hide behind a forced grin. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly caught off guard by the sudden interruption.

"Uh, yeah, I’m in for a friendly match," he says, but his voice is a little too hesitant, a little too unsure. He glances at you like he's not entirely sure what to do next. “But, uh... firecracker, you're still good to patch me up afterward, right? Just in case things... get out of hand?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, and for a second, you almost want to laugh at how unlike him he seems right now. You can’t help but feel a bubble of laughter rise out of you as the sheer absurdity of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. The way Lighter is standing there, all awkward and fidgety, avoiding eye contact and tripping over words. You feel ridiculous, and you can’t tell if you're cringing more at how completely out of character this is or at how you’re both so blatantly fumbling through it.

You’re definitely not the smooth, cool-headed person you thought you were.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be there," you say, stumbling over your words like a clumsy fool. "Making sure you don't... uh, turn into a human pincushion, or whatever."

You wince the second the words leave your mouth. Human pincushion? Seriously? You could've come up with something better, but no, this is what happens when your brain turns to mush. You quickly look away, almost as if you're trying to disappear, but your cheeks are already burning, and there's no escaping it now. Lighter, looking just as silly, rubs the back of his neck in a way that makes him seem a little too much like a lost puppy. He’s not even trying to be smooth. He manages a half-smile, but it’s so awkward that it’s almost endearing.

“Right. Yeah, no one wants that. I’ll... leave the stabbing to the Thirens, I guess,” he says with a half-nod as if that makes any sense at all. It’s like the two of you are desperately trying to play it cool, but you’re both failing spectacularly. But then, like a breath of fresh air, Caesar’s cheery voice cuts through the ridiculousness. She grins, completely unaware of the awkward dance you two just performed.

"Great! Let’s go! We’re gonna show the Thirens who’s boss!"

And just like that, you both get swept up in her energy, still feeling a little bashful but grateful for the distraction. You chance a look at Lighter to see that he is doing the same, instantly averting both your eyes to the very interesting ground. Still, the top of the mountain is within sight.

Baby steps.

[sterloc]

Sterloc is a non-alcoholic Sanitizer + Disinfectant spray. It instantly kills 99.99% of viruses, bacteria, and other micro-organisms. It has been designed commonly used surfaces, including home furniture, doorknobs, handles, glass surfaces, and car interiors. Disinfect your home with Sterloc and keep your loved ones safe.

[k12academics]

SIMPLE ELEMENTS WAS CREATED TO PROVIDE ALL-NATURAL DISINFECTANT AND CLEANERS TO EVERYONE AS AN ALTERNATIVE TO TOXIC AND HARMFUL CHEMICALS. OUR PRODUCTION FACILITY IN LAKE BUTLER, FL MANUFACTURES, BOTTLES, AND DISTRIBUTES ALL PRODUCTS IN HOUSE. SIMPLE ELEMENTS UTILIZES TECHNOLOGY TO PRODUCE HOSPITAL GRADE DISINFECTANTS AND CLEANERS THAT ARE EPA REGISTERED AND ABLE TO KILL EVERY BACTERIA AND VIRUS IT HAS BEEN TESTED AGAINST, ALL THE WHILE REMAINING NATURAL WITH NO CHEMICALS.

EPA Registered as a Disinfectant FDA Approved for Sanitizing USDA Approved for Food Processing Applications Our products are on the CDC & EPA "N" list for Covid-19 because we have proven to kill coronavirus.

Sapphire Disinfection is committed to producing all-natural products that will not leave behind harmful residual chemicals. Human-safe as it is a Non-Irritating Skin or Respiratory Solution that breaks down into natural elements. Environmentally Benign with No Harmful Chemicals, No Waste, No Preservatives, No Alcohol, and No Allergic Reaction. Powerful Ready-to-Use Broad Spectrum Tuberculocidal Disinfectant & Cleaner that Destroys the Germ's Cell Wall Preventing Germs from becoming Drug Resistant. Sapphire Disinfection's premiere product is Hypochlorous Acid (HOCL) which naturally occurs within the human body to fight infections, but we make at a much higher strength and PH Neutral. Hard Surface Disinfectant and Cleaner without Harming Sensitive Human Skin, fabrics, wood, or metal.

Product Formulated to Mimic the Human Immune System

Gentle for use around people, plants, and animals

Unique Products that Leave NO Harmful Residuals

Use as a Biocide on any Hard Surface

Alcohol-Free, Will no Dry or Irritate Skin

Eco-Friendly - No Waste Product or Harmful Chemicals

Green Product - Bottles are Refillable and Recyclable, Natural Ingredients

Kills Every Pathogen that it's been testing against including Staph, E Coli, MRSA, and C. diff

[kajibunny]

⟡˖ ࣪ ren kaji as your boyfriend ₊˚⊹⋆

✿ summary: relationship headcanons (ren kaji x reader) ✿ warnings: awkward silliness, some parts are a lil suggestive ✿ a/n: i love this man so much you don’t understand pls ;__; hi i'm new here and ofc my first post is abt my love, ren kaji hihi pls be nice!! ✿ wc: 960

ꕤ kaji is more than just your bf, he’s also your bff, partner-in-crime, and sometimes guard dog (lol).

ꕤ he’s a little mean, but he means well. 

ꕤ everyone in town refers to you both as each other’s “other half”, as he relies on you quite a lot. not because he wants to boss you around (well, well, iykyk second year grade captain ren kaji mode on) but because he immensely trusts you.

ꕤ you also rely on him a lot, and he is a very protective boyfriend. he won’t let anyone harm a single hair on your head if he can help it.

ꕤ lots of people thought you two were already together way before you two actually got together, since you two were always…well, together. to the point that you adapted each other’s habits and vocabulary. (you catch yourself picking up kaji's direct tone of speaking and occassional "damnit!") no one was at all surprised when he introduced you as his lover. to everyone, you two were practically married already.

ꕤ it’s either both of you are bantering or play fighting one second, then all over each other the next. if ever you two have serious arguments, he’s usually the first one to apologize and ask how he can make it up to you. kaji is very mature that way, and is scared of hurting you, as he treasures you with all his heart (and body lol).

ꕤ has this habit of putting his lollipop in your mouth - just to see what you would do. loves the faces you make when you least expect it. thinks you’re so cute like that, but of course, will never admit it out loud. 

ꕤ when agitated, he calms down when you give him head pats and tell him that he’s a good boy. (double meaning i’m telling you)

ꕤ his love language is definitely quality time! he loves hanging around with you, walking home together, having deep talks in high places like a grassy hill or rooftop until the sun rises, listening to music together while you lean on his shoulder absorbing the sound from his headphones.

ꕤ your pet names for each other are lowkey insults like “idiot, dumbass, stupid” but affectionately. it became kind of like an inside joke between the two of you. he’d say the sweetest things, then pair it with a completely opposite word, like “it’s because i love you…you fool.” and you can't tell whether he wants to fight you or if he wants to kiss you. 

ꕤ kaji likes having collaborative playlists with you. doesn’t matter if you two don’t have the same music taste, since he’s always curious about what you’re listening to. sometimes sneaks in a few hidden messages using song titles in his playlists, for your eyes only.

ꕤ during the cold season, he lets you slip your hands in his hoodie pockets, embracing him from behind, like he’s your natural heat pack.

ꕤ when sleeping together, he’s a (literal) freak in the sheets. a blanket and pillow hogger, takes up more than half of the bed, ends up in the strangest sleeping positions, and at times accidentally pushes you until you end up on the floor. 

he definitely does not mean it though, if you hug him or hold him tightly while sleeping, there’s a higher chance he’ll stay still.

ꕤ when not on the bed, kaji likes to take naps on your lap or your shoulder, because according to him “it’s comfy and soft. like a pillow”

ꕤ lets you hold his valuables - lets you wear his hoodies, lets you hold his headphones, lets you drink from his bottled water, and even lets you suck on his lollipop (the one in his mouth okay but maybe also sometimes the one in his pants asdjbjdjcnd;;) but only you are allowed, because you’re special.

ꕤ you had to learn basic first aid because kaji always ends up with many injuries after fights, and gets angry at anyone who tries to touch him or disinfect his wounds, except for you. (soft!kaji *sighs* the effect you have on him aaaa) 

ꕤ makes a barrier with you in his arms whenever you’re passing with him in a crowded or busy street, to make sure no one bumps you or gets too close to you, to keep you safe.

ꕤ kaji is naturally such a good kisser, but claims he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. he tells you it’s just because he’s eaten a lot of lollipops, so he probably practiced unknowingly with his mouth and tongue. (help this is so funny)

ꕤ so many awkward and cute moments, that makes you love your little idiot ren kaji more and more each day (if that’s even possible) 

accidentally bit your hand when you fed him food. (from that day on, woke up to the realization that he might have a little bit of a biting kink)

once tried to do a kabedon on you like you two saw in one film you watched together but ended up tripping a bit, landing on top of you and squishing you.

there was a time he asked for love advice from hiragi when you two started dating, and umemiya ended up eavesdropping on them, and kaji ran away so fast as if he saw a ghost (ref: ch 58 kaji-senpai lol)

forgot he was wearing his headphones with music on full blast and broadcasted a little too loudly about how much he missed you because “you were gone on your trip for so long” and he “wanted to kiss your annoying face” all in front of his giggly vice captains, who of course heard every single thing he said. you made sure to tease him a lot about it afterwards.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved