#still learning phoenix's damn hair though

[herbleol]

Gay lawyers? invading MY brain? its more likely than you think

[charliemwrites]

Government Asset Soap! This is half of the last part (the smut got too long and I wanted to post this dammit).

Original concept comes from @ceilidho’s military asset Soap. Further inspiration came from @391780’s Nikto version “The Summons”. Both are very good and you should definitely check out!!

Content: Post-trauma coping, Non-Con Touching and Kissing, Violence (mentioned), Unstable Soap

It’s probably a fire hazard, the candles. They’re sprinkled across your little cabin like fireflies, feeble but steady heartbeats of a home you’re failing to build. Too many of them, likely. Two, sometimes three, per room. Tiny tealights, smokeless soy, scented pine. It would be easier, safer, to just turn on the lamps you foolishly invested in.

You can’t bear anything brighter than golden halogen anymore, though. The glare drags you back to a tiny cell bisected by cruel metal, holding back an even crueler fate. No, you’d much rather wade through pools of shadow and firelight, fire code be damned.

It’s a small cabin, but you’ve already cluttered it up with furniture and rugs, a theme for each room. Yellow and blue for the kitchen. Purple and cream for the den. Green and brown for your bedroom. Nooks to hide in, spaces to squeeze into, big shapes to huddle behind. You’ll never be caught out in a cold, barren room ever again.

Your days are long regardless of the time of year. Get groceries in town every day, making a point to be friendly and seen so that someone might notice if you suddenly stop coming. Clean incessantly, so many surfaces to dust. Pick hobbies like daisies. Knitting and crocheting, different paint styles, felting. You’re contemplating carpentry, would like to build shelves for all the books stacked up in the den. Keep a dream journal by your bed that you neglect for weeks at a time.

You draw out the nights until you can count the hours until dawn on one hand. Stay up baking, making homemade ink, learning new ways to style your hair, anything, anything, anything—

It’s not the sleeping – or at least that’s not the worst of it. It’s the waking.

Laswell suggested a cat.

You told her to stop suggesting pussy to unstable people.

But it’s still not a bad idea. Another living thing to keep you accountable; the plants are pretty and time-consuming, but not good company.

You talk yourself out of it every time, knowing the worst-case scenario. It’s not catastrophizing if it actually happens, and you can feel an invisible time weighing on your shoulders like another gravity. Tick, tick, tick. Heavier, heavier, heavier. It’s hard to breathe beneath the wait.

The military doesn’t do apologies. It does platitudes at best. Well wishes and good intentions are painted in brushstrokes of blood. Victory flags are planted on bodies, living or otherwise. Laswell apologized. She swore that if there had been another way – any other way…

She didn’t promise to leave you alone. Didn’t assure you that you’d never see her or her goons again.

If you thought it would do any good, you’d tip one of the candles over and set it all aflame. Rebirth through fire. But you never did figure yourself for a phoenix. And besides, a phoenix is still itself, even when the ash falls away.

So, you spool out your time like picking at tapestry threads, one thin string at time.

Tonight, it’s bread. Cinnamon chocolate babka, to be specific. You were craving something sweet. Are debating the merits of some sort of cream cheese icing while you shower off the long, ever-busy day.

Have decided on an optimistic why not as you slip out to begin your overly complicated self-care routine. Moisturizers, hair oils, lotion. An unexpected benefit of overloading yourself, you suppose. Even when you first got out of the military, you didn’t take such good care of yourself. You have a jogging route now. You’re handling your trauma every possible way except therapy. (And sleeping.) Better than nothing, you figure.

The candles have gone out in your bedroom. You click your tongue in annoyance, trying to remember where you left the matches this time. Bedside table?

You pad across the soft carpet, using the edge of the bed as a guide in the pitch black. The only other problem with candles is that their humble light doesn’t reach very far. But you know this house and keep the floors tidy enough that you’re confident you won’t trip.

Make it to the nightstand without incident and pat around. Knock the side of your hand into the little carton and only just catch it before it hits the deck. Let out a little huff and start to fumble it open.

“Nice catch, bonnie.”

You gasp, but your voice doesn’t get any farther than the back of your tongue. The box slips from your numb fingers, matchsticks scattering across the floor. He tsks.

“Shame that. We’ll get ‘em later.”

You can’t move. Can barely breathe. You’re just frozen, heart thundering with a sudden storm of fear and confusion. Hands still aloft in front of you, spine rigid, knees locked.

You feel more than hear movement behind you, and then the warmth of his body seeping into your naked skin. Not quite touching. Not yet.

“Missed you, little bird,” he rasps in your ear.

You always thought that in a moment like this you would scream. Kick and elbow and fight, damn your certain loss. But when it comes down to it, survival drowns out all those stupid, haughty ideas about pride and dignity. So you don’t curse and shout like you always fancied you would.

You whisper, “Soap.”

He hums but it sounds like a growl in your panicked state. “Missed me too, aye? You’re already naked fer me.”

His hands are searing when they settle on your waist like they belong there. He pulls you back against him; in the dark he’s bigger, broader than you remember. At least, you think, he’s fully clothed for now.

“What are you… how are you here?” you ask.

He barks a laugh, mean and rough. “Was only a matter of time after that shite they pulled.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and see it recreated in the phosphenes behind your lids.

Soap buried balls deep inside of you, murmuring a constant stream of filth as he got harder and harder inside you. Filling you up as you twitched around him, oversensitive and teary, afraid of what would come next.

Then the lights flashed, flicked red. An alarm sounded, Laswell’s voice ordering Soap away from you. But he just snarled and hunched over you, hips snapping to bury himself right back inside while you cried out.

The locked door swung in, armed guards swarming in. Yanked Soap off you while you scrambled to cover yourself. Someone grabbing your arm none too gently to pull you from the room. Soap wild-eyed and snarling like something possessed, until he was overtaken by struggling guards and you were trembling naked in that damned hallway.

“Was mad at you, at first, cannae lie,” he says, almost conversational. Your eyes snap open, though you know it’ll do you no good. “But I’ve had time to think on it. Wasnae yer fault, was it? Saw them drag you out.”

An awful relief floods you. Fuck dignity, fuck honesty. This is Soap right behind you, completely unrestrained and unsupervised.

“Yeah,” you answer, voice small. “I didn’t know they would do that. What… um. What happened to you?”

He presses his face into your damp hair, pressing closer, snaking his arms to squeeze you against him.

“Sent me off on some shite mission,” he explains, “probably hoped I’d die out there. You smell so good, lass.”

You shiver as his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your neck. Hot, humid.

“And… and then what?” you insist, trying to stall.

You’re not sure what you’re stalling for. There will be no miraculous saves here – not that you really got any last time. It’s not like there’s any real plan to be made here, either. None that you’d be confident enough to risk his wrath on.

“Disappeared. Took care of business. Came to get my pretty little bird.”

A rough hand trails over the curve of your hip, brush the neat curls of your mound. You suck in a breath, hands twitching with the urge to stop him but not sure of putting up resistance when you’re still unsure of his mental state.

“And what about you, hm?” he rumbles. “Been a good girl while I’ve been away?”

His fingers dart down towards your entrance, not nearly prepared for anything. Least of all his thick digits.

“Y-yes!” you yelp, grabbing at his wrist. Relief makes you dizzy when you manage to stop him. “I-I’ve been good. Which means I’m not… I can’t just take you. I need… I need prep.”

He huffs, nips at the tender spot beneath your ear. The thrill that shoots through your stomach is terrifying.

“That’s what these are for, bonnie.”

And to your horror, he starts to push past your resistance like your staying hands aren’t there at all.

“John!”

He freezes. You shudder air into your burning lungs, feeling dizzy on panic.

You can get through this without pain, just think.

“I haven’t even got to see you,” you stutter, voice shaky. Can’t quite inject the disappointment you’re trying for, but hopefully it’ll work. “And I bet you’re all dirty from travel.”

He grumbles. “So what?”

You scramble to think of a satisfactory response. “S-so let’s get reacquainted in the shower, yeah? That way I can see your handsome face, at least.”

He chuckles, grazes his teeth “playfully” across your cheek. “Bossy thing.”

“You like it.”

And to your shock, he agrees with an amused huff. Hauls you up in his arms and walks you back to the still muggy bathroom. You’re set on your feet and spun around, chin jerked up to receive a savage kiss. All tongue and teeth, no finesse. He’s just licking into your mouth, hungry and animalistic, spit dribbling down your chin.

When he finally pulls away, you blink spots from your vision. Finally focus on his smug features and make a soft, horrified noise when you register the splatter of crimson across them.

“Och, that? My little bird had watchers.”

Of course you did. The horror ebbs a bit. Resentment has made you indiscriminately bitter.

“Oh,” you say, “th-thank you. Definitely glad we’re showering first, then.”

“Squeamish?”

You’d like to know when the world turned upside down and John fucking “Soap” MacTavish began teasing you about the blood on his face.

“A bit,” you admit.

“Poor dear,” he coos. “Hard to believe we were made for each other sometimes, aye? Complementary, we are.”

Is that what he thinks? Christ.

You turn to start the shower again, spine prickling with the weight of his eyes on your back. The water rushes down and then he’s crowding you against the cold wall beneath the (thankfully) warm spray.

“Y-you’re still dressed!” you protest between sharp nips to your collarbone.

“Fix it, then,” he snarls.

You claw his shirt up his back, get momentarily distracted by the impressive display of muscle hidden beneath. Draw your palms over his chest and feel him shudder.

“Fuckin’ heavenly, love,” he purrs. “Missed this.”

A vague memory comes back to you, him gripping you close because he felt you naked against him for the first time. Him admitting he hasn’t had affectionate touch in a while.

This… this you could work with.

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Masterlist

[whorediaries-09]

why are you at the wake?;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- angst, blood, descriptions of injury. a/n- me and slow burn are long time besties btw

prequel masterlist series masterlist little train.

the whispers were loud, screaming at you. your eardrums throbbed in your brain. it was as if you were falling down and down into a hole that knew no end. but it was the touch you'd lost that pulled you right back, grasping and holding onto you just right.

not tight enough to suffocate you and not loose enough to let you drift away.

just enough to be the ship and cut through the waves.

'will you open your eyes for me, please?' you heard his voice, so familiar. you'd recognize it anywhere. you fluttered open your eyelids, scared to float back into reality. the demons sat on your shoulder, yet you decided to open your eyes.

'you-you're awake!' you looked around yourself. the blankets over you were warm and cozy, comfortable around you. you moved your fingers, but they were covered with bandages.

'where am i?' you asked, groggily. your throat ached of thirst.

'you must drink some water first, please,' he held a glass to your lips. with his free hand, he helped you sit up straight, resting your back against the headboard. he crept his hand under your jaw, slowly pouring the water in your mouth, drowning the quench and the ache.

'mr. black, please tell me, where am i?'

you saw a moment of deep hurt reflect on his face.

'you're in the headquarters of the order of phoenix. and you'll be staying here. this is about the least dangerous place after hogwarts to be in if death eaters are after you,' he explained, his words soft and slow. you breathed, slowly.

'i've never been here before.' you whispered. he nodded slowly,

'i know. this is my house after all. the hell hole where i grew up,'

*-

molly weasley sat by you, her hands slowly unwrapping the bandages from your body. quietly, under her breath, she gasped, watching the strokes of blood striped across your back. your swollen neck, the broken bones popping out from under your flesh and your swollen fingers.

'oh dear,' she said, under her breathe. you watched her fingers shake, as she slowly moved your dirty hair from your back, whispering a spell to tie it up. silently, you chuckled,

'that bad, mrs weasley?'

'molly to you please, and yes, god damn it-it's more than just bad,' she pressed her finger softly on an unhealed wound, scraping off dried blood.

'doesn't it hurt?' she asked, as you remained still. you turned your head back,

'doesn't what hurt?'

'i'm scraping off blood, dear, don't you feel the pain?'

'i...don't...' you whispered, a tone of forgiveness etched into your voice.

'well that's...unusual..' she said, taking her wand in her hand.

'she doesn't feel pain because of a spell.' you gasped, at the sudden appearance of sirius, quickly covering yourself with the sheets.

'don't come in like that! it'll frighten her-' molly scolded him. he rolled his eyes, but muttered a quiet apology never the less.

'and don't lie, there's no spell like that.'

'are you insinuating that you know all the spells by heart, molly?'

'well no, but i raised 7 kids now didn't i?'

'i'm not disagreeing. but you should know that i learned a few spells because of my lovely mother even if i didn't want to.'

'of course.' she said, her lips forming a thin line. 'when does it wear out?'

'not until i do the counter curse.'

'well-do it now. she needs to feel the pain. i'll give her a sleeping draught.'

'why does she need to feel the pain? she looks just fine to me.'

'j-just do it after molly has finished bandaging me up, please,' you whispered, amongst their argument.

'yes, very well then...'

*-

sirius' hand was on your bandaged shoulder. he gently squeezed your shoulder, as if reassuring you.

'okay so, it's going to hurt a little if i take away....well it's a curse actually.' you nodded silently and sleepily, not really listening to him. even though molly had offered you food and urged you to eat it, you couldn't really do it. a sense of cold passed through your body, making you lose your appetite for the food.

'do you understand? i need verbal confirmation please,' he urged you.

'okay,' you said softly.

he muttered something under his breath. you felt your body slowly growing lump, as your nerves tensed, the pain shooting into you almost immediately. bit by bit, your limbs weakened and with each passing second, you started losing control over your form. you couldn't take the pain anymore, the feeling of magical stitches and ointments too harsh, the itch growing.

he softly held your shoulders, the touch so gentle, it almost broke you. like fragile glass, he laid you down on the bed, the pads of his fingers softly rubbing upon your bruised skin.

but you needed to feel the pain. you needed to feel it to blur out your sanity. you needed to feel it in every inch of your body, get drunk upon it and escape it's treason.

you would've been drunk on it.

but how would you escape it?

'did molly give you the sleeping draught?' he asked, tone soft.

'no,' you said, watching as sirius put the covers on you. he nodded, his eyes wandering over to the night table next to you. he took the bottle in his hands, examining it.

you watched his face through sleep heavy eyes. the moonlight reflected on the new wrinkles around his nose and eyes. his hair was still long, as long as you remembered it to be; or perhaps, even longer. it was tied back loosely into a bun with his wand. through the raven black strands of hair, you noticed a few grays.

he knitted his brows together.

'i don't know how high the dosage is...' sleep was catching up to you. you highly doubted you would need it, as you closed your eyes, eyelids too heavy to be open anymore.

'hey hey! don't sleep!'

you fell asleep, your world surrounding into a darkness, which seemed too peaceful to be escaped.

****************************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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[edelfan]

Trigger warning: suicide attempt

I'm sorry for this. I'm going through a rough time myself and this just wanted to be written.

It was way past midnight and the hallways of the Naval hospital were deserted except for the night nurse who kept making her turns. One room though was filled with people, all gathered around the pale figure lying in the bed and being kept alive by the countless machines he was connected to.

I'm sorry that it has come to this, but then it's not like you guys are gonna miss me anyway.

Admiral Kazansky had used the power of his rank as COMPACFLT to make sure that they could stay with him 24/7 - especially after learning that there was no family or other next of kin to be called.

My father was right. I'm not good for anything, not even when I brought home straight As, not even when I get those meaningless medals.

The room was small. The only two chairs available were occupied by Phoenix and Rooster. The rest of the Daggers were lined up along the walls, Bob having a supporting hand on Phoenix's shoulder. Maverick was standing at the foot of the bed, leaning on the rails as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

I know I've been an asshole most of the time. It's the only way I managed to survive for this long. Don't show weakness, don't let them come close because you'll only be hurt in the end.

"Anybody, but him... I mean if I'd only known how he really felt," Phoenix mumbled, clumsily wiping at the tears that kept coming. Without saying a word, Bob wrapped her in a hug from behind.

Maverick was right in not choosing me. Rooster was right when he said that I lead people to an early grave. Funny that in the end it seems to be my own.

"The doctors said that the next 72 hours are critical. He needs to start breathing on his own or else..." Maverick sighed, laying his hand on the blanket over Jake's legs in hopes that the young man could feel that he wasn't alone. "Damn it, kid. Not like this, you hear me, son?"

I really thought that I had proofed myself by saving Maverick and Rooster. I had really hoped that I found a squadron, in which I am not the one on the sidelines. I had hoped that maybe we could be friends...

For a long time there was silence in the room - except for the hissing ventilator and the beeping heart monitor.

But I keep fucking up. I keep running my mouth and I keep making the same mistakes over and over again.

"I shouldn't have said those things to him the other day. Hell, I know how it is up there... Fuck, Jake, I'm sorry." Fritz's voice was hoarse as he let himself slip down the wall, ending up in a heap on the floor.

Tell Javy that I am sorry. I'm just too tired.

Javy was standing by the window, looking out into the darkness. Ever since he had helped Rooster and the medics getting Jake into the ambulance, he hadn't said a word.

Tell Rooster Bradley that I am sorry. I am sorry for what I did the first time we met at Top Gun. I shouldn't have pressured you so much into... well, you know what I'm talking about. If only... who knows, we could have been quite the power couple, right? No matter what I said back then, I still love you... so much.

Bradley was a mess. He hadn't left Jake's side since breaking open the younger man's door and finding him on the floor. Sitting next to the bed, he held Jake's hand while also caressing his hair. Too many people had left him behind already, he wouldn't let Jake go, he couldn't let him go. "You damn idiot... Why didn't you say anything? I still fucking love you, too. You can't leave me, baby, please..."

See you on the other side.

[sciencelings-writes]

Happy Narumitsu Day and WIP Wednesday, here's a gay little (877 wc) snippet from my Fem!Phoenix fic

“Wright… Are you sure you’re well enough to be doing this?” Edgeworth hesitated to return her attorney's badge as its owner rolled her eyes. 

“Actually, my fever has gone down quite a bit. I’m only at a hundred and two now.” Phoenix pulled out a convincing grin, which was interrupted by a coughing fit that lasted long enough to dismiss her point of being well enough to get back to her job. 

“Always the stubbornest of women…” Edgeworth teased with a barely-there smile. 

“You’re the last person I want to hear that from,” She huffed breathlessly, taking a moment to allow her oxygen levels to normalize. She glared at the change of clothes that she had brought to Hazakura Temple that Laury brought up to the hospital. 

Her shoulders ached just thinking about the struggle it was going to be to thread her arms through the sleeves and button it up with only the use of one arm. She had tried to reach her free hand behind her head enough to anxiously scratch her neck and had decided quite quickly that she wasn’t going to do that until her bruises healed up. 

Damn, she hadn’t been able to even brush through her hair since she had taken the plunge into the killer rapids, she could not appear in court without her thick mane of black hair tamed. Typically she liked to weave it into a tight french braid, using a little gel to make all the edges look extra sharp. The look was professional but also unique. She had seen it post-eagle river in the bathroom mirror and nearly winced at the mess it had become. Just another thing she would have to deal with before she left the hospital. 

“Do you… need help?” Miles’ voice shot through her train of thought, her cheeks noticeably tinted pink.

“Yeah,” Phoenix sighed, clearly defeated, “Yeah, I think I do.” 

Which was how Phoenix found herself having a bit of a crisis, and not even of the kind she was used to. No, this crisis was about 18 years in the making, starting as babies first crush into the beast it was after all this time. Because even after everything Edgeworth has put her through, she was still completely hopeless when it came to her. 

It started with a brush running through her hair, interrupted by a firm hand that kept the tugging from reaching her tender scalp, extra sensitive due to her illness. The slight graze of manicured nails made her shiver just as much as her fever had. Oh dear, she was not going to survive this. 

“You’re fortunate that ‘falling through a bridge into a raging river’ is a good excuse for this travesty,” Edgeworth’s snide words being softened by how gentle her hands were.

“What do you mean? It looks like this every time I wake up,” Phoenix almost succeeded in keeping her voice even as Miles’ fingertips combed through the hair at her temple. She was pretty sure that wasn’t necessary and at this point, the prosecutor was just doing it to torture her. At least she could blame the flush of her face on her fever. 

“Good lord…” The other woman audibly rolled her eyes. 

Phoenix’s only distraction was the transcript of the day's court proceedings that she unfortunately had to miss. She would’ve loved witnessing Miles attempting to cross-examine Laury. That was all she envied though, everything else about the trial seemed extremely nervewracking.

“I seem to recall your preference for tying your hair up, is that something you want?” Miles’ voice interupted her mental creation of a to-do list of things to investigate. 

“Normally I would, but I don’t think it’ll help my headache,” just the slight pulling of the brush had made her wince several times, regardless of the care Miles took. “Though I kind of want to cash in on that offer later, I bet with Franziska as a sister you were forced to learn a decent variety of complicated hairstyles.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong, though Franziska took her title of older sister very seriously so it was mostly me on the receiving end of her hair experiments. Culturally it is popular for German women to be adorned in braids, at least in traditional settings, so I did end up learning my fair share. Perhaps if you are ever in need of something elaborate I could be of some use.” Miles threaded her fingers through Phoenix’s hair one last time, checking for any final snags, though it made the defense attorney's mind go blank for a moment. 

“Hmmm, now I’m wishing I got invited to more fancy parties…” Phoenix spoke after a moment too long of silence. 

“Nevertheless, your hair looks nice down,” Miles stated like it was a fact, clearly ignoring how her scalp was sweaty from the fever and how it had last been washed with river water. The way it had naturally dried pressed up against a pillow gave it a curl wilder than the curl made by the memory of a full day bound in a tight braid. 

“Let’s get you dressed,” The woman lightly patted Phoenix’s back as she turned to the bag of clothes Laury brought up.

Oh... Phoenix had forgotten about that part.

[roosterbruiser]

[ OH MY GOD ] for a hug in response to one muse learning that the other’s still alive.

If you write for Javy this as a Javy prompt, maybe after he gets home from the Uranium Mission?? Even though he didn't actually fly it he did almost die. And if you don't write for Javy then this prompt with Bob??

you heard every single bit of it.

Maverick's panic as he tried to snap Coyote out of it, Maverick's tone screaming through Coyote's jet, the automated voice desperately demanding that Coyote pull up.

and all you could do was stand there, right beside the comms, your feet firmly planted on the ground. there were a few fleeting moments where you were certain that the love of your life was going to die--burn in, crash into the side of a mountain, cease to exist because of a training exercise.

"Coyote," you muttered, eyes squeezed shut tight as you gripped the counter you were standing just before in the sun-drenched lounge. "c'mon. don't do this. don't leave me."

you still haven't decided if that's why he came out of G-LOC--you demanding it from the ground below, wishing fervently and desperately for him to be okay.

as soon as his tired are bouncing off the tarmac, you're racing towards him--protocol be damned. search and rescue has already been sent out for Bob and Phoenix and you know that they punched out in time. right now, all you have the wherewithal to worry about is Javy.

it's as if you have blinders on right now: no longer can you see the endless blue sky above you or the piercing rays of sun, the other jets being worked on down the tarmac, the paramedics racing towards Coyote. you can smell the jetfuel and feel the the hot pavement sticking to the underside of your boots, but nothing else matters when you see him.

he's climbing out of his jet carefully, helmet still on, and you can tell from your spot a few paces away from him that his hands are still shaking.

you beat all the paramedics there, your body practically carrying you to him without your mind having a say in the matter.

"Javy!"

it's the last thing he hears before you're colliding with him. his precious girlfriend, who he knows had to listen to him almost burned in, is wrapping his much larger body up in her arms. and god, if it doesn't feel good to be on the ground holding you right now.

this is real, he has to remind himself. he's alive and he's here and he's holding you.

he is immediately hugging you back, holding you against him like his life depends on it, punching all the air out of your lungs as your feet leave the ground.

"don't do that!" you're crying, shaking your head fervently. "don't ever do that again!"

it's silly, really, because you're a pilot, too. you know that, logically, he had no choice in the matter. no one does when they go into G-LOC. but the words still fall from your mouth anyway, as serious and desperate as ever before.

the paramedics are closing in on yours and Javy's reunion, preparing to give him a once-over before he's cleared to go home, but the two of you make no move to let go of each other.

"I won't," he promises. "I'm sorry, I won't. I'm here, okay?"

and Javy knows that, logically, he has no say in the matter either. but here, under the California sun after almost dying beneath it, stroking your hair as you hastily undo his helmet and shove it off his head, he knows that this promise is as much as he can do right now. even if it's as good as a sweet nothing--he'd say it, he'd promise it, a million times over for you.

you're grabbing his face now, tears wetting your cheeks, as you inspect his cheeks and forehead for cuts or bruises. and he's misty-eyed, too, watching the woman he loves come undone in this sweet almost-grief.

"I'm okay," he keeps saying, but you won't listen.

you check him as thoroughly as you can with tears heavy on your lashes, holding the back of his head and giving him the saltiest, the sweetest, of kisses.

"don't," you whisper brokenly against his mouth.

and he just nods, nose nuzzling yours. he gives you another kiss--can taste the tears on your tongue.

"I won't," he whispers.

and he means it--for you, he means it.

[imsosocold]

Ace Attorney characters that I think are related

In addition to my “ Godot is Manfred’s other child” agenda.

Richard Wellington and Frank Sawhit:

My favorite pack of thieves. I like to think Frank was stealing in order to earn enough for him and his son to survive. And then Richard was trying to get enough money to bail his father out of prison but once learning who the defense attorney would be for Maggey decided to try to avenge his father. I want them to have a tearful reunion in prison and then escape together to rob more rich people <3.

Furio Tigre and Wocky Kitaki:

Have you seen the last names?!! In all seriousness I think them being related would make the overall crime scene more fleshed out and make its story more cohesive. The Cadaverni rage wouldn’t be over a member getting in an accident with just some thug, but a member of a mob, a rival to power in “Los Angeles”. Though I don’t think Tigre would be considered a legitimate member of the family by the Kitaki line themselves, I think Wocky would look up to Furio as an older brother figure and base his persona around him. Wocky’s aggression to Phoenix is less funny now though.

Polly Jenkins and Goldy Gerwitz:

Imagine the only person who ever cared for you took their own life and you lost everything and now all you have left to turn to is material items. But then coincidentally you come across those who indirectly lead to her suicide but you are too scared do anything and you regret for the rest of your life for your inaction. Just fun with the bois over here.

Herman Crab and Larry:

A STEM and artist duo returns, this time as brothers! It’s the most romance repulsed aromantic against the world’s strongest romanticist ( but Larry is also aro spec, I can feel it in bones). Neither of them can ever have a normal last name and Larry only took his mother’s in order to avoid people making jokes about him having crabs (* cries in the pain of bad nicknames*). In all seriousness , both Larry and Herman are incredibly talented, noble people who will ride and die for those they care about. While Herman would be annoyed by his much younger brother’s antics, he’d still genuinely care for and look out for him. And Larry naturally would be down to help his older brother with any of his schemes.

Simon Blackquill and Daryan:

My favorite black and white animal themed mysterious, dramatic men. I think them being related would tie the Apollo Justice series' events and characters more closely together and give much needed characterization to Daryan ( yet one of many aspects of wasted potential in the Apollo Justice series). Daryan becoming a detective because he doesn't believe Simon could do such heinous acts in a mirror to Klavier and Athena, him trying to gain whatever influence and power and wealth he can which could potentially aid his family. Daryan agreeing to smuggle the cocoons both because he genuinely wants to save people like Simon did, laws be damned, but because being in the good graces of such a high ranking official, in addition to the large sums of money he'd gain in return, could be what saves his relative. The reveal of this plan would hold so much more immediate consequences and affect a wider reach of characters. And Simon, trying so hard to help and protect all those he cares about all on his own, with Daryan being a reminder how damaging that mentality can be and that no matter how hard the both of them try they can't save everyone!!!!

Also yes, Daryan keeps the hair for Simon's sake, who styled it that way as a prank.

Tyrell Badd and Luke Atmey:

Luke wanting nothing else than to be just like his cool, smart, popular father but feeling like he can't properly emulate him on his own, so he lies and cheats to attempt to do so in turn becoming everything his father is against and hates.

Also Luke feeling like his father prefers Kay over him BYE-

Payne and Geiru:

Imagine following in your ancestors' footsteps to join the law system in order to bring ‘pain’ upon evil doers but one of your family members decides to fuck that and runs off to become a rakugo artist of all things. And then you find out years later that they had a child who committed murder in their name and you didn't even get to come across her in court. Poor Payne can't ever catch a break.

Ron and Joe Darke:

The worst father and son duo who commit crimes and escalate situations because they have terrible problem solving skills yet despite that cannot be convicted for the life of them, the former only happening with false evidence. But the main reason I like this idea is because it means Ron took his wife's last name "DeLite" since she is the light of his life and now he isn't in the 'dark' anymore.

Boo all you want.

Jinxie Tenma and Uendo Toneido:

Two of the best ( and underrated) Ace Attorney characters in addition to being great mental health representation! I think they'd have great chemistry and interactions as siblings. Also Uendo deserves a wrestler father who can beat shit out of ableist fucks and law enforcement. <3

Gumshoe and Dogen:

Such a slut for the idea of Gumshoe wanting to tear himself away from the family name and to do good by saving lives instead of ending them yet working in an incredibly deadly, corrupt system that goes against his ideals and desires.

Also Dick's still definitely hurt that Dogen seems to care more about Simon Keyes than him >:)

Constance Courte and Sebastian:

" Uh, if Constance Courte was Sebastian's mom, wouldn't Blaise had make her disappear-"

Bitch, he tried. That loser husband had to back down.

Unfortunately, Constance wasn't able to take her son with her and decided to throw herself even more into her teaching of law, her indirect way of fighting her husband and preventing people from becoming like him. I like to think she got to reunite with her son again after Blaise was finally arrested and Sebastian continued his prosecuting career in her honor.

Anyway Constance Courte is cool and deserved more screentime ( and to be written into a better case lmao).

Cody Hackins and the Fey clan:

I just want more perspective on the Fey family from those AMAB, I can't believe the main AA trilogy went into Kurain Village and the Fey Clan and didn't expand on this. Anyway, Cody's lack of spiritual power, supposedly due to his sex, in addition to losing his mother led to him and his father being discarded from the main clan and looked down upon. Refusing to accept the position of a branch family given to him, Cody's father took the two of them away from the village. While initially having trouble adjusting to such a drastic change in lifestyle and environment, the two of them were overall happier. Cody still faintly remembers Mia and Maya as some of the few people in the village that were kind to him and is unable to accept Mia's death, believing she and Maya "fused powers" and simply cohabit a body now. On a happier note, Steel Samurai is both Cody and his father's comfort show and they and the Fey Sisters ( and eventually Pearl) watch it together.

The Von Karma and the Justice family:

Okay, with names like those, centered around concepts considered essential to the judicial system, they have be to be connected somehow in this series. Whether they're distantly related or rival families or what, both family lines and their influences absolutely permeate the series.

Also 100% the reason Kristoph took Apollo in as his mentee was to spite the Von Karmas.

Lauren Paups and Matt Engarde:

Polar opposite (half) siblings: Lauren is shy while Matt is outgoing, Lauren has low self esteem while Matt thinks highly of himself, Lauren’s a dreamer and romanticist while Matt’s cruelly aware of how the world works, Lauren’s wishy washy and easily swayed while Matt’s is rooted in his ideas and beliefs, Lauren can’t hide feelings or thoughts while Matt constantly wears a mask, yet their most prominent trait, the one that they share, is that they’ll do anything for who or what they believe in. Also they both share self destructive tendencies when seemingly stressed (Matt scratching and Lauren cutting up pieces of their hair) in addition to being heavily dramatic. Unfortunately, I don’t think they ever got the chance to properly know each other but nonetheless the duo would be close ( as much as they’re allowed to be anyway).

Also this beta design for Lauren is Matt Pre- T and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Give me your relationship hcs, I love to hear the brainworms from other people and have them play with my maggots <3

[aikoiya]

LoZ - Fierce Deity's True Form

I named him Sheikaku.

I get the idea that, physical attribute-wise, his true form likely had a similar appearance to Sesshōmaru from Inuyasha, but with the Fierce Deity facial markings from Linked Universe. However, the mark on his head has one similar to the one on Wolf Link's forehead inside it. Also has 4 eyes like the Bargainers & darker, more tanned skin resembling Impa's from Skyward Sword. Hair long & silvery-white pulled into a fishtail braid that regularly hangs over his shoulder, pronounced canines, & slitted pupils. Muscular & masculine, but in a lean & quiet way.

His markings are also not just on his face, but are all over.

Like this, but more tan & with an extra pair of eyes beneath the ones he already has. (I do not own.)

And something more along the lines of these markings, but not the mark on the forehead that fills the one already there. Replace that with the mark on Wolf Link's forehead.

Originally, his eyes were ice blue, but upon mastering the Mind's Eye, they turned a glowing silver. Such is expected of moon deities.

When mortals master the Mind's Eye, their eyes turn ruby red. However, when deities do so, they turn silver or gold & glow like the moon.

I also think that he was, at least physically, more similar to TP Link in that he actually had some damn muscles on him & was specifically a hunk, not a twink nor even a twunk. A hunk. Not, like, Ganondorf levels of hunk though, rather being more slim or compact in build, but still very muscular.

The Mind's Eye (心の目, Kokoro no Me) allows one to be able to see the truth as well as spirits. This includes allowing one to see past illusions. A rare few may even be gifted with a special ability such as getting visions of the past or a possible future. Or being able to perceive the most miniscule of twitches & ticks on a person, thus allowing one to see past not only the lies that people tell others, but also those that they tell themselves. So, imagine it as a mix of the Magatama & the Percieve ability, both from the Phoenix Wright game series.

Being a god, the Fierce Deity's Mind's Eye went even further & allowed him all these abilities. It also gave him superior intuition. This allowed him to be an especially effective judge.

It is from him that the Sheikah originally learned the way to open their Mind's Eye. But this fact has somehow been lost to time.

Not to mention, he'd have slightly different clothes.

He'd go with a look like a mix of the Fierce Deity's armor's coloring & chestplate, but with a bit of a Mystic Set style & featuring Depths Set script. So, a bit like a Sheikah samurai.

Casually, he'd wear a navy split-sided, diagonally-buttoned Cheongsam-style top with Haori sleeves & an imperial collar. Navy Yamato Budogu (Samurai Pants) tucked into Jika-Tabi (Tabi Boots) with Suneate (Armored Shin Guards) over them. Over that is a cyan & silver Tibetan Pulu robe, or Zhuba, I think. The Haori sleeves are wrapped at the forearm by tape & over that are a pair of leather Samurai Han Kote (Vambraces). Most of it is fur-lined & you can see it coming out the tops of the collar, the Kote, & the Jika-Tabi. He'd also wear a set of blue rosary with fangs as a necklace.

This outfit is actually reminiscent of @kifaprokumiv's art of the Fierce Deity. I really liked how he looked there.

The colors are of the Fierce Deity as we know him (cyan, red, navy, silver, ect) & the patterning of the outfit is like the Mystic Set, but the Zhuba features the symbols from the Depths Set just in silver on a cyan background.

When in battle, he'd wear armor. The patterning of the Mystic Set would be etched into the chestplate's surface, but it's barely visible.

But put together like this:

On his back is a sort of fur cape.

So, very much like this, but with the specifications above.

And with this helmet & mask, but only when in battle, except the crescent is even more crescent-y:

The Double Helix Sword would act as a Zanbatō & be called the Nijūrasen Zanbatō. I like to think that the original sword more resembled the Furious Deity Mask's sword, but with the sort of eye symbol at the hilt & serrated right edge like the Vengeful Deity Mask's sword, both from Hyrule Warriors.

I'd very much like to see fanart of this.

Just for reference, his eyes would be positioned like this:

Not my art, but I very much like it.

Anyone who wants to make fanart of this is 100% allowed!

---

Also, none of this art is mine except for the sword. I do not claim them as such.

LoZ Cultural Masterlist

[adamwatchesmovies]

Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989)

After the criticism the violence of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom received and subsequent introduction of the PG-13 rating, it’s no surprise director Steven Spielberg toned down the intensity of the third movie in the series. Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade still offers rousing action sequences that’ll have you sweating bullets, plenty of memorable scenes to treasure, endearing characters and terrific special effects but the nightmare fuel has been replaced with comedy. This makes it the funniest of the original trilogy by far. For some, this will take something away from the character but for others, this will make this third film their favorite.

In 1938, Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford, charming as ever) learns his father, Henry Jones, Sr. (Sean Connery), has vanished while searching for the Holy Grail. While on their trail, Indy teams up with Dr. Elsa Schneider (Alison Doody) and learns the Nazis are also after the biblical relic.

Let me tell you about the picture's opening scene. It’s set in 1912 and follows a 13-year-old Indy (River Phoenix) as he discovers a group of grave robbers stealing a valuable artifact. It’s essentially a prequel to the series (and less a “sequel set in the past” like Temple of Doom). We see how our hero learned to use a whip, developped his phobia of snakes and obtained his trademark hat. Every other time you see this kind of thing, it makes you roll your eyes. Under Spielberg's direction, it works. The difference is that these events aren’t treated as priceless relics the world must pause and gaze at. They’re just things that happened. The hat, for instance. It comes from the most unlikely source. Right away, you know you’re in good hands. Your fingers dig deep into your armchair even though you know things are going to be alright because everything is so well paced. The action’s creative, the stunts immaculate. No wonder it inspired a television series.

Once The Last Crusade gets going, it never stops. You’re constantly met with surprises, laughs and action scenes that bring something new. They’re mini adventures that build up to the ever-elusive Grail but the sum feels less like a collection of adventure serials than in the past. This is a “movie” in that there is an overall theme and an emotional arc for our hero. It’s damn well written and paced. You won’t even notice the 2hr+ running time. Those who’ve seen the film before and are revisiting it might be looking forward to that chase scene with the tank of those amazing booby traps but there’s so much fun along the way it’s nearly impossible to pick a favorite moment. Favorite character? Maybe. Sean Connery is such a good match for Harrison Ford. If you can’t pick between them, you’ll probably choose to upset neither team and go for Alison Doody. Partially because… well, just look at her! But also because they give her character a lot to do despite having limited screen time compared to the male leads. She’s terrific, a worthy match for Karen Allen’s Marion Ravenwood but in no way an imitation.

Do you lean more towards the kid-friendly (well, not THAT friendly) action comedy or the horror adventure genre? This will determine whether Raiders or Last Crusade is your favorite movie in the franchise but in the end, you’re just splitting hairs. This is an excellent film on its own and as a third chapter in a series, it’s even better. It teems with imagination and the best scenes are so great you're torn between admiring the filmmaking at work or sitting back to enjoy the ride. The performances, score, action scenes, stunts, dialogue are all so great. There’s something here for just about everyone. (On Blu-ray, July 10, 2020)

[lightofunova]

Reshi shook her head at her student’s words. “I could not hate you for a mere misunderstanding, Zhen. Besides, even if you are my student you are still my equal. I have just as much to learn from you as you do I.” Though, she should have been more careful perhaps. Thoughts wandered to a recent time where someone had corrected her assumptions before.

Her eyes trailed his form, tired and unkempt. It was still her student, despite the way his hair stood out in random places and the exhaustion ebbed in his voice. Perhaps this was how he had truly been the entire time, yet she couldn’t tell. It didn’t change a thing though.

As the cup of tea was set infront of her, she took out a few of the sweets and snacks from her package. Small tarts, savory and sweet, and a dish of clotted cream. Nothing fancy, but it was somehow difficult to find in the present she now lived in.

And then he began to apologize. “No, there’s no reason to say such things. Honestly I agree. It was far too busy for us to talk at both events, let alone the scars the Gala left. I understand.” She said as she took a sip of the tea. Calming, and warm.

She couldn’t avoid his question for forever.

“Honestly?” Reshi met his eyes. “I’ve been horrible!” A small laugh left her, despite the tone of the news. She attempted to stay upbeat as of it would help the phoenix feel at ease somehow, but the demanor was quickly replaced by her true feelings, embers of her hair rising and falling quickly.

“Every day has been a meaningless trial for some Arceus-bound reason! I nearly died at the damn Gala, and the sleepover left one of my servants upset with me for my own inaction!” How embarassing. “I just…I wanted to have fun. I wanted to make friends.” Her voice grew quiet, her following words barely a whisper.

“I wonder if I was truly suited for this role at all.”

(@lightofunova)Reshi@Zhen: She entered the abode quietly, not wanting to disturb. Knocking at the door gently, a head of white hair popped in. “Hello Zhen.” She said gently. “I’m not here on buisness today, I just wanted to visit a dear friend, and catch up if you would like. I feel like sometimes we don’t have the time to when we want to.” From behind her back she showed a small parcel. “I brought Unovan treats to share, and some tea of course. What say you?”

Heat flooded his cheeks at the familiar face in his doorway. He was unkempt, horrendous and his mentor stumbled across him in such disarray! He hadn't the time or energy to fix his appearance! 

Misfortune after Misfortune! He internally groaned. A desperate plea in his eyes as he looked towards Caelus for a fix but the dragon gave him a sideward glance before chuffing and looking away. 

Is he mad at me?!

“Get in here,” he beckoned her inside. It was too late now. She saw him at worst. He doubted she would utter so much of a word of this. His Teach didn't seem to be one for gossip. 

He watched as she presented a small gift. Treats and tea? She knew exactly how to placate him. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just sit. Please before Nahkti rushes in here and tells me I'm being rude.”  

He listened to her soft words. A dear friend… His hands clenched as they rested upon his thighs. “I didn't know you thought of me that way.” He exhaled. “I thought I was…” He trailed off, averting his gaze. 

Rising to his feet, he took the tea she brought with her. “Let me warm this up,” he said gruffly. He wasn't gone for long. Soon he was back with two cups, steam wafting from the top. Placing one in front of her, he sat down with some distance between them, tightly holding his own. 

“Our responsibilities often get in the way of hanging out with someone.” His eyes never met hers, staring into his reflection upon the surface of his tea. A half smile as he spoke, “Well, we have all the time in the world, don't we? Being gods 'n all, we never have to worry about it.” His tone didn't match his words, his smile, lacking the spirit he was known to have. “I can spare a bit of time before I'm forced to do the boring stuff.”

Caelus gave a loud snort. He excused himself, the dragon moving behind the homestead. What Zhen needed now was a friend. 

Zhen raised his hand to brush aside disheveled strands of hair from his eyes. “Tell me, Teach. What've you been up to? From one event to another, I been worse for wear but I'm functioning, y’know. Again I'm sorry for the Gala and everything. I really wanted to talk more about things at the sleepover… It just didn't work out like that.”

He was developing a habit. Apologizing. When will it stop? His lips thinned, stifling the urge to say it again. Instead he said in a meek voice, “It wasn't the greatest for a serious talk anyway. 

How he missed being carefree and at ease. 

[abluescarfonwaston]

Trucy and Maya sign Phoenix up for Queer eye after his name is cleared. By the time filming starts he’s decided to study for the bar again and is honestly excited to have some help putting his life back together.

They tear apart his house and drag him for the fact he is wearing socks with sandles and his closet is nothing but sweatshirts and beach clothes. He Does have an old like shakespeare costume in the depths of his closet that Johnathan puts on as well as the Furio Tigre shirt. They check out the magic equipment and Phoenix goes on his proud dad rant about how she’s the light of his life and so talented and he loves her-

Jonathan takes him to the salon for a hair cutting. Under the Beanie his hair got kinda long and gnarly. He didn’t want people to recognize him and even know the idea of it’s still a little anxiety provoking. But he also Wants to look good again and feel confident. Jonathan gives him a scruff trim too and they stop at a goatee. They laugh and Phoenix sends a picture to someone. Oooh your boyfriend? Haha not exactly. They end up going clean shaven tho. As they’re walking out Phoenix stares at his phone and goes. Huh. Maybe we should have kept the goatee.

Antoni asks him what he can cook. He proudly announces he makes the best pancakes. And that he can make a few other things that aren’t blatant depression meals. That what he knows he learned cause he wanted to take care of Trucy but he’s a little ashamed at how often the priority was ‘just make sure she eats something’ because he was too exhausted for more. That he Wants to have this big family dinner with all the people who helped and supported him while he was disbarred. Antoni teaches him how to make a big roast for special occasions and some easier healthy meals for normal days.

Bobby helps him reestablish his house, reducing the clutter that Phoenix has been too tired to clean himself along with making the space more usable to the big groups of family Phoenix wants to be able to host here without embarrassment. 

Tan takes him out to get new clothes. Before he does Trucy actually pulls Tan aside and says her uncle already got Daddy a new suit and can we arrange it so Daddy finds it because it’s perfect but Uncle Miles is worried he’s putting the pressure on too hard since Daddy’s already taking the bar exam for him again (again?) and-

Tan gets him a wardrobe that is more presentable and upscale for court/everyday. They ‘find’ a blue suit with a red tie. Phoenix breaks down crying and Tan is Very concerned but - No... I just... I know who made this suit. That jerk. Of course he already had a suit made for me. I love it. It’s perfect.

And Karamo and him talk about how he has all these people he owes so much to now because he couldn’t have done this without them and he doesn’t know how to even start paying them all back and honestly he was such a bastard these last few years and he’s not even sure how to stop being that person sometimes even though he Wants to. He wants to be that trusting person that Believes in people again. And maybe they all expect him to go back to being that person and he doesn’t want to disappoint them because he loves them so fucking much especially after they went and did this for him too-

And Karamo stops him and asks him if he saw the video that his family submitted asking them to come help Phoenix. Which he hasn’t.

Daddy gave up everything for me. To make sure I grew up happy and loved and he did. He’s the best Daddy in the world. And I want him to be happy. Just as happy as he’s made me.

Nick’s been there for me, when no one else was. Just. Over and over again. Believed in me when no one else did. Pearl give Trucy the camera and come tell everyone how awesome Nick is. He just needs a little help remembering that. Cause he’s a idiot sometimes.

Wright is... he’s my oldest and dearest friend. He’s brilliant and kind and he saved me. And if there is anything I can do to help him reclaim his proper place in the courtroom I would do it, without hesitation. Once you see him in court you’ll understand exactly why I- Kay. Kay why do you have a camera?!

You said you’d do anything Mr. Edgeworth!

I- what is this about?!

“You know you’re friends better than we do but I don’t think they’re keeping score. And if you really want to show your gratitude, beating yourself up over it isn’t the way to do it. You could start by saying thank you instead.”

“Heh. I told Edgeworth that same thing.”

And they invite the whole Wright family over to the big thank you feast. He’s cleaned up and wearing a nice Dad sweater. He gets dog piled in hugs and then Maya yells at him for not making hamburgers instead. Edgeworth shows up a hour late with a bottle of wine and a faint smile.

“Wright I was lead to believe you purchased a suit recently? If you’re done covering yourself in flour,” I’m gonna cover you in flour. “Would you like to show us.”

“Don’t expose the kids to your suit fetish Edgeworth.”

“That’s not! Wright just-. Put the damn suit on Wright.”

“Hahah yeah okay.”

He does and everyone tells him how great he looks and damn is that a waistcoat? Someone’s grown up. And not just out. 

And Edgeworth just watches him with quiet tender eyes as everyone else talks.

“Wright?” Hm? “You’re missing a part.”

“Huh? I got everything! I double- no - Triple checked!”

“You forgot this.” He opens his palm. A shiny golden badge in it. “Congrats on passing the bar exam.”

The episode is a fan favorite.

[neonponders]

Combining tropes: 

punk sugarbaby!Billy and soft sugardaddy!Steve.

This was inspired by @ mikeyyyyyyy_ ‘s ig story (pictured under the cut). He’s Mikey Henger on tiktok. We’ve all seen his divine Billy cosplays 🖤

• • • • • • •

Billy got a new tattoo. He’s no stranger to the needle gun by any means, but he’s wanted hand and neck tattoos for a long time. He finally gave himself the former today.

He abstains from the latter for Steve. Because Steve loves Billy’s throat. He thinks Billy’s skin is beautiful and the guy likes necks, apparently. Billy prided himself on his ass - and, well....everything else - but whatever floats Steve’s boat.

Billy calls him a vamp.

Steve calls him, baby.

So he gets his tattoo, sitting tranquilly in the chair as the artist does her work. Afterwards, blue eyes appraise the latest addition to his collection. Billy already knows everyone is going to assume it’s a crow or a raven. That doesn’t matter.

He sends a picture to Steve.  The reply doesn’t take long:

Want a manicure to go with it?

Billy’s typing as a second message comes through:

What food do you want?

Billy knows where this is going. Steve has his own nail technician who makes house calls. He never gets anything beyond cuticle care, but today Billy felt rejuvenated.

Only if we match. Greek rice plates.

He gets some black hearts sent back to him because Steve’s a romantic and Billy now has a black phoenix flying in his skin.

Steve was...a learning curve. But then again, so was Billy in the beginning. Steve had to let Billy fly, and Billy had to get used to Steve providing a perch for him to land.

A soft bed to land in. A fridge that never emptied. New boots made of loyal leather instead of plastic, and poly gel nails if Billy wanted them.

He didn’t give Billy a job, though. Billy did that on his own. Hair stylist by day, drummer and dj by night, and Billy liked his work. His clients were like him: pissed at the world but knew how to tip, and music had long since become his outlet.

Then he went home to Steve. Both he and the nail technician were waiting; one moving their food out of boxes and onto plates, and the other just finishing up her station for Billy’s hands after he washed them. Steve kissed Billy in the privacy of their kitchen and then cradled the tattooed hand in both of his. “Do you love it?”

“ ‘Course I do. I wouldn’t have it otherwise.”

“I’ve heard hand tattoos swell up a lot. I’ll get an ice pack ready.”

Billy knew there wasn’t much point in telling him no. Steve, still in his work slacks with his pressed shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, who cared and cared and cared. He cared so damn much.

As Billy sat at the dining table and nail technician began her work, Steve followed in and said, “Whatever he gets, I’ll sit right after him.”

Billy juggled relinquishing his hands, eating, and resting his hand on the ice pack. Soon his nails gleamed with clean, black gel paint.

“Scoot. My turn,” Steve declared almost excitedly. Billy snorted quietly and took the rest of his food to the couch as Steve began his manicure.

Paid and tipped, the technician went on her way and Billy chuckled at Steve marveling at his black nails. “Are your colleagues going to think you’re unprofessional?”

“Only if they want to be misogynistic pricks. You can tell who’s sleeping with their secretaries because those women have new nails every week.”

Steve fell onto the couch in such a way that one of his legs draped between Billy’s. He took Billy’s wrist and set the hand on a throw pillow. “You’re gonna fight people off like gnats, the next time they see the sex magnet on the drum set.”

Billy’s other hand squeezed Steve’s knee. “I was thinking of using the electric set to practice tonight.”

Steve didn’t tell him no. Just, “Will your hand be okay?”

Because Steve didn’t have any tattoos. He didn’t think less of them, but he saw them as open wounds every time Billy got another.

“So long as I keep the Second Skin on, yeah.”

Steve insisted on the ice pack until whatever episode finished on the television and Billy went into his music room. Since Steve’s - their - place was technically a condo in the city, Billy got a much more accommodating electric drum set.

Then he played until he sweat. Sweated right through the Second Skin over his tattoo and realized at some point, Steve had dropped off an iced lemonade. Billy drained the glass on his way to the shower. Black globs and flecks rushed down the drain - 

As Steve stepped through the door behind him. “Want an extra pair of hands?”

Billy hummed. “Love some.”

After the initial wash, Billy kept his hand out of the water. Steve washed his hair, knowing very well how Billy liked his scalp touched. And as white suds moved down the drain, wet lips touched Billy’s neck, making him hum again.

“Have you decided on something here, yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I wouldn’t mind, you know.”

“I’m not asking permission. It goes against my nature.”

Steve laughed breathily. “I know. Except for that one thing.”

Billy cocked a brow and looked back at him. “One thing?”

Steve’s eyes rolled. “Yeah, the one thing. Kind of a big deal. At least, I like to think I’m a big deal.”

“You trying to tell me something, Stevie?” Billy crooned, reaching between them for Steve’s half-erect member.

“C-Careful, your ring’s on.”

“ ‘Course it’s on. It’s always on. Never taking it off. It’s in my skin as good as you are.”

Steve’s eyes went hooded and dark, peeking up through his lashes like he was shy. Billy’s hand left his erection to slide along Steve’s neck. His gold band shined through the dark tresses. The same way Steve’s did.

Matching hands.

Almost.

Maybe Billy could convince him to get a black feather somewhere.

[ikaroux]

Diluc: Love at first sight (part 1)(EN)

f!reader

I'm trying an English version, even though it's not my native language! Sorry in advance for the mistakes :,D

Masterlist

Part 2

It was almost 7pm, the rain was in full swing on this spring evening and the wind was freezing. The streets of Mondstadt were empty because of the bad weather. It was a quiet evening at the Angel's Share Tavern, Diluc, who was at the counter to replace his bartender, Charles, was taking advantage of this moment of respite to take care of the business' finances. The sound of an approaching storm echoed through the room, startling the few tipsy patrons in the tavern. Diluc glanced out the window in annoyance, tonight the "Dark night hero" would probably not have much to eat.

"This nickname is so ridiculous...", thought Diluc. The people of Mondstadt felt the need to put a name to this masked character, who braved danger to protect the people of the town. Diluc sighed, looking again at the bills scattered on the counter, a few more hours and he would close the tavern. A few more hours and he would do what the Knights of Favonius were incapable of doing: protect the people of Mondstadt.

You were a traveller from the snowy lands of Snezhnaya. Life there had hardened you. You learned to fight with a spear at an early age and received an Electro vision from your nation. You wanted to see the world, its riches, its beauty. You wanted above all to visit the nation of freedom. It was known to be green and full of life, poets and artists praised its beauty. Its inhabitants were like their archon, Barbatos, free and limitless. Mondstadt was the exact opposite of your homeland, which was as cold on the inside as the snow that fell there.

Well, except for today... By the seven, you had to arrive in Mondstadt on a violent stormy day! The wind was freezing and the rain did not help, you had to find a place to stay as soon as possible or you would end up freezing.

"Damn! I can't see anything in this rain." The wind blew harder, as if in response to your annoyance. With your arm in front of your eyes to avoid being lashed by the rain, you didn't notice the mud puddle on the path. You were certainly an excellent fighter and a fine strategist, but by the archons, how clumsy you were. The landscape quickly tilted back and forth before you hit the ground, splattered with mud. Exasperated, exhausted, dirty and now with a sore back, you hit the ground screaming. After spitting out your hatred, you took the time to breathe before getting up. You looked around, not far from you was a statue of the seven Barbatos representatives in the middle of a lake.

According to your map (or at least what was left of it) you were at Lake Tombétoile, a few more hours of walking and you would soon be in the city.

"Well, we still have to go through the Whispering Wood, maybe I'll find some shelter from the storm in the meantime..." The sky rumbled overhead as you studied the soaked piece of paper. You didn't notice the electro-laden area forming right between you and the apple tree beside you.

Diluc was running along the path in the Whispering Wood, claymore in hand. He was chasing a mage of the abyss who was fleeing towards Lake Tombétoile, eliminating along the way any threatening creatures who had the misfortune to cross his path. The mage seemed to be amused by him, blowing a laugh near his ear before teleporting a few meters away. The creature's behaviour was unusual and it annoyed him even more. Diluc came to an abrupt halt, using his dominant leg to slow his run. His claymore over his shoulder, flames covering it completely, he violently lowered his weapon in front of him, throwing a phoenix of flame at his opponent. The abyssal mage was caught in the flames, screaming in pain before disappearing in a black cloud. Diluc caught his breath, looking around at the flames swallowing the vegetation. He quickly relaxed when he saw that the rain washed away all traces of the fire.

Running his hand through his hair, washing away the few drops of rain that poured down his face, he made his sword disappear from his hand. His ember gaze lingered on the exit of the path leading to the lake, a sigh escaped him, he was exhausted. He closed his eyes for a moment and lifted his face to the storm-blackened sky, the rain slipping off the mask he wore so as not to be recognized. He slowly opened his eyes, it was time for him to return to Dawn Winery.

Just as he took a step to return home, a cry from the lake rang in his ears, the voice sounded like it belonged to a human, a woman to be precise. He turned back, running at full speed towards the source of the scream. As he emerged from the woods, he could see a young woman with hair (colour) in the distance, dressed in a mud-stained travelling outfit, a hood covering her head, she seemed to be recovering from a recent fall. She was taking out of her bag a soaked piece of paper, probably a map. Diluc quickly concluded that you weren't from here. He wasn't sure what to do, should he leave you to fend for yourself?

Should he take off his mask and offer you help? The rain was in full swing and you seemed to be on the verge of exhaustion. Diluc waited a while, hiding behind a tree and some bushes, watching you. Were you an enemy, a thief or a fatui? Or were you just a traveller? He didn't have time to wonder further when he noticed the electro area beside you, indicating that a bolt of lightning would soon strike the ground, probably killing you instantly.

He ran at full speed in your direction.

Look out! He lunged at you, grabbing you in his arms, pulling you away from the impact of the lightning. You screamed in surprise and fear, your eyes closing rapidly.

You were both lying on the soaked grass, Diluc on top of you. He leaned quickly on his forearms to check that you were not hurt. No sound came out of his mouth, he was standing over you, staring at you with wide eyes behind his mask, his cheeks turning a slight shade of red. He thought your eyes (colour) were beautiful... More than that, he thought you were so beautiful that he was at a loss for words, his heart was beating so hard in his chest that he felt like it was going to burst out of his rib cage.

You looked into each other's eyes, silent, your hand trembling slightly from shock and cold, slowly reached up to caress first his ebony mask, then his warm cheeks and finally your hand lingered in his crimson hair pulled up into a ponytail. He obediently let himself be touched, hypnotised by your movements. You thought he was beautiful, even with that mask hiding part of his face.

"Thank you." A smile lit up your face. His cheeks took on a darker hue.

It took him a few moments to remember that he was lying on top of you, and he quickly stood up, holding out his hand to help you up.

"You're not hurt?"

"No, thanks to you."

"Good... I-I'll leave you then" He quickly turned back around.

Diluc thought he was a fool, you were clearly lost and some part of him didn't want to leave you alone.

"No wait!"

You had grabbed his hand before he left. Diluc turned his blazing gaze towards you. You had a desperate expression. You were exhausted, frozen, but next to him you were warm, terribly warm.

You didn't want him to go.

He wouldn't leave you alone.

He squeezed your hand in return. He walked on slowly, dragging you along with him, slowly, at your own pace. You were behind him, a warm smile on your lips. From time to time Diluc would glance over to check on you. He liked to see your gentle smile, which made him feel warm and peaceful, feelings he hadn't felt since his father died. He unconsciously clasped your hand in his, protectively. What was he doing? He didn't know you, he didn't even know your name, and yet everything inside him was screaming at him to never let go of that tiny hand in his... He shouldn't get attached, not with the life he was leading... Yet he couldn't deny this feeling inside him. He had literally fallen in love with you at first sight.

[anemia-rp]

"I am fucking crazy about you!", he claimed with a lot of fervency and nodded. How could he not after all? Xuan was a stunning man, absolutely perfect in Teru's eyes, and Teru knew a lot of people. But no one could get compared to the Chinese, this was for sure. This already begun by the way he touched Teru. He shuddered, groaning in desire at the mere sensation of feeling those tender fingertips on his skin. And meanwhile he could barely take his eyes off this gorgeous face in front of him. So perfect, just like the rest of Xuan. If Teru wouldn't know better he would have believed that he had met God himself. God who had finally forgiven him the fact that he was created in sin - and sinned quite a lot throughout the day usually.

"How could I even? Fuck…there's no guy who could get compared to you! I've never seen such divinity before!" He gasped and giggled then when he felt the other's tongue on his sensitive neck, the taste of the Jägermeister still lingering on his lips meanwhile. Goosebumpls bloomed onto his arms as a response to this sexy warning and his tongue glided over his lips to wet them with a lewd smirk. "Uuuh, you better should make sure to mark me properly then so everyone sees who I belong to without me even needing to say a single word!" Hickeys didn't come in question actually for when he got onto stage - at least not on spots above his waistline… "Not as if anyone would be allowed to pull down my pants even to take a look onto them, of course! I don't show that miracle-making butt to anyone but you." Speaking about his butt he wiggled it, rubbing himself against Xuan and his delicious hard on, groaning in desire while looking deeply into the other's eyes. Probably his Master was even more beautiful because he had this expression in his eyes. An expression that would be enough to turn Teru on - and make him feel at home. He instantly shifted even closer to Xuan, not wanting to have any inch between them. Skin on skin, that was what he desired. Being one with the other.

He had have melted visibly, but once he had his hair pulled roughly he uttered a bewildered noise, making a grimace. "Ah…hah! I promise I'll work fucking hard and put all my passion and devotion into pleasing you, making you happy every day!" He definitely was determined to answer the other's expectations. Besides of this it wasn't his nature to betray others, quite the contrary. He was a loyal friend, so why he shouldn't be a loyal sub, too? Or even a loyal boyfriend? Despite him having a liking for getting his hair pulled he was relieved when Xuan let go and instead kissed him he moaned in a satisfied timbre and gently kissed the other back. His Master…oh, he could become the whole world for him, he was sure. The lips were just as addictive as his eyes and his touches. In this moment he wondered if Xuan wasn't an incubus himself in fact. He wouldn't have been surprised at least if this would have been the case.

"Yeah, making music is everything for me, and going crazy while performing live!" He giggled cutely at the swat his nose got. "Okayokay, I'll arrange a meeting with the agent! I'm already surprised what my bandmates will think about this all though. I'm damn sure they'll have their jaws dropping to the ground when they learn about me to have such an amazing man on my side who would do everything for me." Once again he melted and his voice conveyed it as he spoke even softer now. With his eyes halfway closed he let his hand wander upwards to Xuan's neck, letting it rest there, all while gasping in an aroused way when his butt received attention, his hole instantly twitching. "Hah…I simply love prostate orgasms to death", he murmured and had his thumb fondling Xuan's jaw. "Nothing better than them…"

@phoenix-of-jade

Continued from here [X]

Xuan wasn't the type to be easily intimidated or frightened by anyone. In fact, seeing how people tried their very best at inducing fear into those they thought as weak and submissive, kind of amused him. It just showed how weak the human character could actually be at times, since more often than not the very same people who sought to impose their strength and power over others through sheer brute force were, in fact, just some scarred little souls hidden underneath shallow husks.

That's why when Teru attacked him, pinning him to the wall, Xuan didn't sketch the slightest of reactions. He could see right through this feisty man's front and he could tell from the very first glance he threw at him that night that Teru was the submissive type, someone who will appear as stubborn and tough, but will kneel and crumble easily under his boot. Their positions of power were soon going to switch drastically, it was just a matter of time and Xuan didn't feel like rushing this little 'game' of cat and mouse he'd set for himself, at least for a while.

With a slight snort, the raven haired gave the younger another defiant look, before speaking in the calmest of tones, sure of the fact this will piss him off even further. "I think the only wasted one here is you, since you're literally chasing after someone who made a fool out of you in front of your entire group. Shouldn't you be trying to save face and find some drunken idiot to smash on the pool table instead? Or could it be that you actually have a degradation kink and all that humiliation actually turned you on?" Another jeering grin. "Sorry, but I don't mingle with pathetic little hoes. You'll have to do much better than this to impress me."

As an emphasis on how 'unimpressed' he was, Xuan then feigned a yawn and leant back against the wall, feeling the pressure applied by the other's arm onto his chest tighten. "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't be able to handle you, princess! Also, I am curious as to what do you mean by my kind? Do you, perhaps, dare compare me to those lousy fucks inside the bar, who spend their days pimping bitches and ordering idiots around to do their biddings, while they sip on cheap wine and sit all day with a cane stuck up their asses?" Raising an eyebrow, Xuan then tilted his head to the side. "I'm sorry, but in this case, your assumption is wrong. I might be of the refined kind, but trust me, unlike those idiots who try pretending they are something they are not, I actually live up to my status as leader of my organization."

In just a split second, without much of a struggle, the man then used his foot to kick the succubu's legs in one swift motion before he'd even be able to react, just enough that he could make the man lose his balance, before freeing himself and applying three more sturdy hits with his hand and elbow to Teru's side, back and neck, only to finish by grabbing the younger's hand and painfully twisting it to his back, pushing him face first into the wall. The green eyed bastard was soo quick that there was barely even time for an outsider to register when and what happened. "Who's all lame now, hmm?" Back to his conceited cocky tone, Xuan then leant against him to whisper in the younger's ear. "Here's a pro tip: never judge a book by its cover. Your little show of bravery was fun to watch, but unfortunately, you still have room for lots of improvement."

[@anemia-rp]

[tothemeadow]

Request: If possible, HCs of Pillars being lifeguards? How would they save potential s/o's from riptide, etc.? Who wouldn't work at all ?

😂😂😂😂 I miss lifeguard Rengoku

👁👄👁

You deserve a veteran’s discount if you remember lifeguard Kyojuro 👀

‘bay watch’ / Pillars as Lifeguards HCs

Giyuu:

actually great at his job but people make fun of him all the time

the girls love him since he’s pretty

naturally, he spends a lot of time in the water since he’s the water pillar

casually splits the sea in half when someone’s in trouble

incredible swimmer, high stamina, can carry people like it’s nothing

if he senses you’re in the slightest bit of danger he comes running at full speed

and by that I mean the art of the frog running on its hind legs with the “plat plat plat”

Gyomei:

wears sunglasses all the time and the stripe of sunscreen on the nose

people do not fuck with him and respect his rules

since he’s so tall, the normal “neck deep” depth of the water only comes up to his torso or so

doesn’t need a megaphone since his voice booms

plays with little kids on the beach

when he’s at the watch post he’s praying nonstop

befriends the little crabs in the sand

Kyojuro:

remember the phoenix tattoo on his hip? yeee boi

wears puka shell necklaces, has anklets, overall looking like a damned snack

tanned skin, hair back in a ponytail, white ass teeth, please

he’s constantly telling people to play it safe, don’t litter, etc., but he’s not mean about it

everybody loves him since he’s such a friendly guy plus he’s hot

uh oh! you’re in danger! you bet your ass he’s using every single bit of his strength to push through the current and bring you to safety

there has been numerous accounts where people pretended they needed CPR so he could kiss them

Mitsuri:

high. cut. one. piece. suit.

there’s usually a crowd handing around the watch post (most of them are guys)

such a helpful sweetheart; she’ll help set up chairs, umbrellas, that sort of thing

jiggly tiddies and wet swimsuit that’s it

like with Kyojuro, people will “need” CPR so they can kiss her

funny enough, she knows it’s all bull so she’ll smack their back and make them choke

she’ll sneak you up to the watch post so the two of you can spend more time together

Muichiro:

let’s be real here - Muichiro would suck as a lifeguard

someone’s drowning? should’ve learned to swim

got a sunburn? should’ve used protection

he’s the type to always wear sunglasses and suck on lollipops/straws in those big ass soda cups

he’s incredibly partial towards you and will keep a close eye on the things you do

literally anyone else could be pulled out in a riptide and he wouldn’t really care; if it’s you, however, the boy is running

he gets sunburnt easily

Obanai:

another lifeguard who simply doesn’t give a fuck

he’s on everybody’s ass all the time so they follow the rules

Kaburamaru acts as his second in command

honestly I see Obanai as someone who gets flustered easily at the sight of bare skin so he’s very... (◉Θ◉)

bro, if you’re on the beach he physically has to force himself to not stay glued to your side

although it seems like he doesn’t care, he’s very serious when someone is in danger

has saved numerous lives but doesn’t brag about it

Sanemi:

the scariest lifeguard to ever exist

imagine giving Gordon Ramsay a megaphone - that’s what Sanemi is like

kids will throw sand at him so he knocks over their sandcastles in return

incredible at the job, though

honestly, he threatens people if they don’t follow his rules

a gentlemen even if he doesn’t seem like it; whenever he spots somebody harassing someone else, he will full on tackle the motherfucker

bonus points if Genya is on duty with him

Shinobu:

the best lifeguard out of all the Pillars

gives expert medical attention and does not play around when it comes to the public’s safety

she also gets sunburnt easily so she really has to slather on the sunscreen

her swimsuit is a bit more modest than Mitsuri’s but it’s still 😏

she’s so protective of you; whether it be the water, other people, etc. she makes sure you’re close so she can easily help you

older men hit on her all the time; most of the time she smiles at them and may roast them to hell and back

hands out popsicles to kids

Tengen:

lifeguard thot 2.0

tanned skin, tattoo sleeves, piercings - look, he knows he’s a snack and he openly flaunts it

although he’ll save children from the water, he’s not very... gentle with them

another one to sit at the watch post and lazily drink a soda

flirts with literally anybody and everybody

he will use his binoculars to check you out

if you’ve ever seen an episode of Bay Watch then you know what I mean when I say he does the “run” 

[jiminisnotavirgin]

A+

Pairing: professor!taehyung | collegestudent!reader

Genre: smut

Description: A one-on-one video call with your hot, college professor takes a surprising turn.

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: inappropriate student/teacher relations, mutual masturbation, fingering, clit-stimulation, and innapropriate language.

Note: After much anticipation, I hope this is my return to the writing part of the lovely fanfic world. Here’s a little something mischievous and self-indulgent (clearly!). I started writing this when quarantine and remote-learning first began last year and I returned to it earlier this week. Let me know what you think :) I hope you enjoy A+. Love, Phoenix.

Email after email, document after document, the light from Taehyung’s laptop shines bright blue across his features. The hours go by and the sky grows darker but he remains at his desk, only taking small breaks to lighten the strain on his eyes. His chair creaks as he leans back and glances outside the window. Like most nights lately, only the stars keep him company tonight.

His courses shifted to an online-only remote format due to the need for social distancing. Despite the initial confidence he displayed to his boss and colleagues over the change, Taehyung is more unsure than ever. Frustration sneaks its way into his mind like a viper wrapped around its squirming prey. His life has turned into a turbulent sea of e-mails and complaints from upset students. What’s the best way for him to support his students? How can he assure them that their mental health is more important than any essay or assignment they’ll ever complete?

A sudden knock at the door steals his attention. Jungkook, his roommate and best friend, leans against the doorway with crossed arms. “Professor Kim,” he begins with a smirk. “Do you have a minute to speak?”

“What’s up?” asks Taehyung, ignoring his friend’s use of the name his students address him with.

“Did you see Jimin’s text? He invited us over for drinks at his apartment. Are you coming?”

“Can’t,” answers Taehyung. His computer glows in his peripheral vision. “I have—“

“Emails to write, work to do. I get it, you’re a busy man.” Jungkook shrugs. “I thought I’d ask anyway since it’s Saturday night.”

“Maybe next time.” Guilt floods Taehyung’s chest and makes it difficult to look Jungkook directly in the eye. Not only is he a shitty professor but he’s a shitty friend, too.

Jungkook finally steps inside the room, occasionally tinkering with Taehyung’s things until he reaches his desk. “Whatever. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Jungkook’s already-large doe eyes go wider. “Because all you do is sit at that damn computer all day!”

“I have to teach classes online, what do you expect?”

“It’s not healthy. You barely even leave your room to eat.”

“Who are you, the food police?”

“No, I’m your best friend,” Jungkook answers. “When was the last time you did anything fun? Or normal? You’re twenty-six, Tae, not a hundred and six.”

Taehyung sighs. “I can’t think about any of that right now. Actually, I should get back to my work...”

Jungkook takes the hint and leaves, but not without shooting a glare that makes Taehyung regret his choice of words. He can’t worry about it right now though—not when he has a call planned with you in about two minutes.

He was surprised to see an email from you in his inbox yesterday. You’re one of the students that hasn’t reached out all semester unlike most of the others in his courses. He knows just what kind of student you are: the type who floats through classes quietly but still gets high marks. You’re an older student. You fade into the background by avoiding the attention of your peers but your work stands out, therefore, you do too. He recognizes it because he was that student, too.

Taehyung opens the app for the call, expecting you to pick up after a minute or two but you answer within seconds. “Hello,” he greets you.

You tuck a stand of hair behind your ear and speak but no sound follows the movement of your mouth. He waits but nothing changes.

Taehyung clears his throat. “I think your microphone is off,” he says and types the same words into the chat box at the bottom of his screen.

You squint as you bring your face closer to the monitor. “Can you hear me now?”

He smiles. “Perfect. So, how are you doing? How’s the semester been so far?”

You shrug. “It’s been okay. I’m just trying my best, you know? What about you?”

“Pretty much the same. There’s nothing to do besides read and grade assignments.”

“I wanted to talk to you about the midterm, actually...” your voice fades out and your eyes drift away from the camera. He digs through his memory for what you wrote but his mind comes out empty-handed.

“Let me pull it up on my computer.” He searches through his saved files and documents.

“Oh, you don’t have to do all of that.” You pause for a few seconds. “It’s about my grade.”

“Let’s see... B-plus. Nice work.” When he looks away from your paper, he catches you frowning.

“Could you give me some feedback on it?” you ask.

“I left a few comments on the side,” he answers, eyes still glued to the document. He exits the window and focuses on your face once again. “I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. You’re a lovely writer.”

“Not good enough if I can only get B-pluses,” you answer with a sigh. Taehyung sits up in his chair, surprised by your shift in tone.

Are you looking for an explanation? A justification for the grades he’s given you? “Most students would be satisfied with a B-plus in an almost graduate level course.”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m not your other students.”

His brows twitches. “Oh?”

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an arrogant jerk but I’m not used to getting anything lower than an A on my papers. The fact that I’m about to graduate and can’t hack yours is pretty... frustrating.”

He presses his lips together. “I don’t know what to tell you.” What do you want to hear? Can anything he’ll say wipe that glare off your face? It’s interesting to see you lose your cool after all this time.

You refuse to back down from the challenge. In this impromptu staring contest, your brown eyes penetrate his through the computer screen.

Taehyung decides to give in. Slightly. “One thing I will say,” he continues, “is that I’m particularly tough on my best students. If I gave you an A-plus on every essay you handed in, what would you work up to? There’s no doubt about the strength of your writing.”

Your expression changes immediately. “Oh,” is the only word that leaves your lips. The lines of anger decorating your forehead smooth out as your mouth eases into a relieved smile.

It’s in this moment that Taehyung finds himself looking at you. Truly looking at you.

There’s something about the determination in your face as you plead your case, as though nothing else in the world matters more. Your glossy, heart-shaped lips possess a reddish tint that reminds him of cherries, or rubies. Even through the pixels on the computer screen, you retain the same freshness he remembers from a few months ago, if not more now.

All this time on the computer has gone to your head, he thinks to himself. Perhaps there’s still a chance for him to catch up to Jungkook and the others.

A giggle erupts from your side of the call. “So my papers are good? And here I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“I didn’t mean to make you suffer,” he murmurs and runs a hand through the waves in his raven hair. His eyelids flutter closed as he sinks into his chair and stretches his arms. Finally, a meeting he can consider a success; a meeting where the student leaves the call less frustrated than when it began. He prepares to end the call and log off for the night.

Then he hears it.

It’s faint and quiet and quick but he hears it, as if all sounds in the world were turned off and yours was amplified. The sound echoes in his mind as though you were right there beside him: “If only you knew how you make me suffer.”

This progression of thoughts occurs in a matter of seconds. By the time he’s processed your statement, his eyes have been forced open and any chance of relaxation for the rest of the night disappears into thin air.

“What?” he asks, voice betraying the casualness he wishes to exude.

“Oh, nothing.” You blink innocently, long lashes fluttering like a pair of butterfly wings. “I just care about your opinion, Professor Kim, if you can’t tell.”

“Right...” His eyes trail to the messy display of pens and papers spread out across his desk—anything to avoid your gaze. Its intensity has multiplied a thousandfold and threatens to melt him like a popsicle in the sun. He ignores the surge of anxious heat flowing through his veins.

“I mean,” you continue, lips pursed. “Who doesn’t love hearing a little bit of praise every once in a while, right?”

Your statement hangs in the air for what feels like an eternity. His shirt suddenly squeezes his torso. His pants suffocate his thighs. The room feels like a furnace and dizzying all at once, but the tension in the air keeps him in the moment.

“What are you doing?” he finally asks.

All the blood drains from your face and your limbs freeze. You hold your hands up in the air. “I’m sorry, professor. I didn’t mean to—“

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” warns Taehyung. A new fire fuels his gaze. With his thick brows, chiseled face, and beautiful black hair to match, your professor is a flame and you’ve been dying to get burned since you first laid eyes on him.

You pull off your hoodie and toss it onto the ground behind you. With a small tug of your index finger, you adjust the spaghetti straps of your pink tank top, underneath which you wear no bra. Your nipples prick at the thin fabric that stretches with each of your breaths.

“You deserve so much more than a little bit of praise,” he murmurs, erasing any doubts over your advances towards him.

“I do?”

“Mmhmm. Especially since you’ve been such a good girl.”

This man couldn’t possibly be the same one that lectured your class all semester. Something sinful replaces the innocent, awkward mannerisms you’ve grown to know over time. No more does he hesitate with his words or actions. Instead, he leans towards the camera with his shoulders pushed back. You’re greeted by his neck and the tan slope of his chest that hides beneath the loose collar of his button-down. You want nothing more than to rip off his shirt with your bare hands. For now, you can only imagine what lies beneath.

“Good girls deserve rewards,” he says with a swipe of his tongue across his plump bottom lip, snapping you out of your daze.

“What should I do?” you ask and glance at your closed bedroom door. Fortunately, you locked it before the call started. You don’t want any intrusions from your roommate.

“You should wind down and take care of yourself. You’ve been working so hard.” His eyes dart down to your tank top. “Close your eyes and imagine it’s me worshipping your chest.”

Your eyes fall closed as your hands drift to the hem of your top. Your fingertips graze your stomach and stop when your skin begins to slope up into the mounds of your breasts. “What would you do if you were here with me right now?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I’d make it my mission to kiss every part of you but first, I’d focus on those beautiful breasts of yours. They’d fit in my hands perfectly.”

With your left hand, you grasp one breast and tighten your grip just the slightest bit. The squeeze forces a sigh from your lips and although your eyes are closed, Taehyung struggles to control his own breathing as he watches you begin to unfold. With the other hand, you bring two fingers to your mouth and coat them in saliva only to bring them down to your nipples which harden with each squeeze and stroke.

Taehyung swallows in anticipation. “Just like that. Keep going.”

“Wait, what about you?” you ask, voice raspy and slightly out of breath.

“What about me?”

“I’m not the only one who deserves a reward.”

“Watching you wriggle and writhe in desire is enough for me.”

You cross your arms. “Nope.”

He chuckles. “What do you suggest I do, then?”

“I want you to fuck yourself with your hand and imagine it’s my pussy squeezing the life out of you.”

Your words knock the air out of Taehyung’s lungs but he manages to recover quickly. “You may be a good girl but you’ve got a dirty mouth.”

You smirk. “What are you going to do about it?”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clinks from his end. “Touch yourself right now. Play with your clit and we’ll see if you’ve still got that nasty mouth of yours when you’re begging me to cum.”

You raise your brows. “I fully intend on cumming at least once in your presence tonight, professor, whether I have your permission or not.”

“Call me Taehyung.” He takes a moment to reflect on the current situation versus the dynamic you had only minutes ago. “Why now? Why did you initiate—”

“My grades go above all else. I didn’t want to jeopardize any of that,” you answer. “And I also waited for your sake.”

“My sake? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were doing this to secure your grades,” he muses.

“Nothing boosts my ego like getting an A-plus based solely off my hard work,” you answer. “Fucking my hot professor is for my own personal pleasure.”

You description makes it sound so typical, just another everyday thing like washing the dishes. Are you using him? Deep inside, the thought of you using him arouses him. He wants to be used by you.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, suddenly absorbed by you and the way you carefully orchestrated this interaction. How long did you think about this moment? Were you afraid of rejection?

“I know. Everyone likes me but I always want what I can’t have.” You wink. “Life’s more fun that way.”

Fun. “Enough talk. Let me see.”

“Yes, of course,” you stutter, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. You don’t mind his demands or commanding tone. In fact, you invite them.

“Slide back,” he instructs you. “I want to see everything.”

You swallow and obey immediately, rising to pull your chair further away from the camera. You take the chance to slip off your sweatpants which leaves you in nothing but your underwear and tank top. Your underwear isn’t fancy but it’s what’s below that he’s interested in.

You lower yourself onto the seat, not bothering to keep your legs pressed together. You spread your knees slowly, as if your legs were a book with pages waiting to be read.

“Good. Open up more and show me how bad you want it,” he says. The smile in his voice urges you on.

Your hand creeps along the stretchy waistband of your underwear. The material works against you, forcing your wrist against your pelvis and the area you so desperately wish to touch. You have to be patient since you seek to milk this moment for as long as possible.

Your middle finger searches for any sign of dampness and you gasp when you find a small pool already built up at your core. When you look back at the monitor to see what he’d like you to do next, you watch as he adjusts himself into a similar position to yours.

“Your turn. Take off your shirt,” you instruct.

He raises his eyebrows. A mischievous smile dawns on his face. “Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“So demanding. That’s what got us here in the first place,” he remarks but proceeds to unbutton his shirt.

“I’m not afraid to go out and get what I want.”

“I know, and I admire you for it,” he says. His shirt begins to crinkle as he unbuttons lower and lower until eventually, the front parts to reveal his chest. His abs are soft and his warm honey skin looks smooth. You wonder what it would it taste like.

As he rolls up his sleeves, you observe every movement of his hands. They’re large. One of the first things you noticed about him when he spoke in class and lead discussions. You always wondered what his hands would look like if they were doing something else entirely... Now, your fantasies have come to life.

You force your jaw closed but he’s already caught you staring. “Like what you see?” he asks through his low lids.

“Oh, please. As if you don’t know you’re attractive as hell.”

A low laugh emerges from the man and you smile. If only you could bottle it up and keep it. When he reaches into his pants, you follow along, taking the slick from your finger up to your clit in one smooth stroke. You hum and bite at your lips to contain your reaction.

He shakes his head. “Don’t hide it. You sound beautiful.”

Your other hand starts to wander as you go to work on your clit. From your head to your chest, you seek something to ground you as your soft bud puffs with pleasure. No longer does it hide, tucked away beneath the crevices of your lips. You grind against it using your hand and a slow swivel of your hips from left to right.

“You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you,” coos Taehyung. “Your body was made for this. For pleasure.”

The sight of him gripping the base of his cock is almost enough to send you over. A light glaze of sweat builds on your forehead but you make no effort to wipe it. Taehyung wishes to feel the heat of your body on his. It’s probably better than anything he could ever imagine.

Perhaps now more than ever, he longs for the days before the virus took over and broke everyone apart. He misses those times so much he could cry, especially since he took them for granted. At the same time though, he thinks about the effort those close to him have made to keep in contact. Even old friends he hadn’t spoken to in years called to catch up with him. His students have stuck out the most out of anyone. One or two of them don’t even own laptops but they show up to class on time and bring their A-game. He believes he should take a note or two from them.

As he studies you, the way you squirm in delight, and the way your body responds to the ministrations of your hand, a wave of relief washes over him. If it weren’t for these circumstances, he wouldn’t have had this moment with you.

“Taehyung,” you moan, bringing him back.

The sound of you calling his name shoots heat straight to his cock. With the precum glistening at the top, he grabs his cock and works the tip using his thumb. “Fuck. Look at what you do to me,” he groans at the sensitivity.

“Please,” you take in a breath and continue, “t-tell me more.”

If praise is what you want, praise is what you’ll get. “You’re so hardworking in everything that you do. Look at you now. Touching yourself just for me.”

“Yes, yes.” You moan as your fingers settle into the one position that feels like you’ve struck gold.

“How far inside can those fingers go? I bet you can put them in real deep.”

It’s as though your hands were waiting for his approval. You slip inside your clenching, gaping hole using two fingers. They slide in easily but the initial stretch is foreign since it’s been so long.

Taehyung groans and for the first time tonight, you begin to see him lose control. His cool exterior sinks into the pleasure of his hand—and of you—leaving him a sweaty, desirable mess. His hair sticks to his forehead and his stomach clenches with each stroke of his hand. He moves slowly, trying to match the pace of your hand. You pick up speed and allow your body to move against the rhythm of your hand. Your insides feel warm and soft and slippery. You close your eyes and imagine he’s the one fingering you with those gorgeous hands of his.

The rubber band of pleasure in your stomach begins to stretch. The squelch of your pussy grows louder with each passing second.

Taehyung is well-endowed but never did you imagine his dick would expand so much in length and girth. He could spear your pussy in one fell swoop, destroying your insides and anything else that gets in his way.

“Taehyung, I’m close,” you say with a sigh. You barely have the energy to speak.

“Fuck, me too,” he adds. “I’m almost there. Cum with me.”

His hand travels from base to tip and each part of the journey is smoother than the last. He massages each vein and ripple and moves even faster when he catches a glimpse of the uneven quiver of your thighs. Heat churns in his stomach and all he can do is chase it desperately. He needs it like oxygen, to breathe in the sight of you along with the pleasure of his nether regions.

The rubber band snaps. It strikes you in waves, each crash stronger the last. You let the waves overtake you and succumb to the burst of pleasure spreading through your limbs. You pull out your hand and clench around nothing as the sensitivity forces your legs closed.

Just when you thought things were over, Taehyung makes a request: “Taste it.”

You waste no time in taking your fingers to your mouth, gliding your tongue on the pads of your fingertips, and spreading the salty fluid in your mouth. All you can focus on is the heavenly sight of Taehyung coming. Each breath he lets out comes with a moan. You swear you can feel the vibration of his low voice against your own chest. His hair covers his eyes but you know they’re closed in pleasure. He intakes one sharp breath before it finally takes him over.

He can feel nothing but release. Release of stress. Release of work. Release of anything except you. As white spurts of cum squirt from his dick in a messy stream of strings, all you can think about is the beauty of his body.

“This was fun,” you admit with a smile. “I’m glad my attempt didn’t flop.”

“No, that would’ve been a huge mistake on my part.”

As you look down, your eyelashes brush the top of your cheeks and you bite your lip in anticipation. “I know I’m graduating and all, but we should do this again sometime. If you’re interested.”

He rests his elbows on his desk and brings himself closer to the camera. With his hand holding the side of his face, he takes in the sweet sight of you. “Did you enjoy it that much?”

“Oh yes. In fact, unlike some people, I’d give you an A-plus.”