#they see an obvious guy and an obvious women and then they hear its more complicated than that and they short circuit

[cascadianights]

Absolutely baffling that when I talk about my partner (who is clocked as a cis male by the general public 90% of the time) the second some people realize he's trans they start using they/them?? Despite clear usage of he/him and their grasp of it before?

Then they struggle ENDLESSLY with using they/them for me bc even though I cut off 3/4 of the hair on my head and have more chest & body hair than the cis men I've dated, my hips and chest still clock me as female no matter what

[pureastrologywisdom]

𝔖𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔖𝔢𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔓𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰

Lilith aspecting Moon

This is a very powerful placement for women specifically. The moon, which is your emotions, connected to the unconscious self, habits, comfort and femininity is connected to the point in your chart that is powerful and dark, a part fuelled by pain, and all about transmutation. These woman often have a very intriguing essence about them. Strong and seductive. It's like you are playing with fire. She enjoys being a little off putting and knows exactly how to be enticing yet intimidating all in one.

Neptune/Venus/Pluto in the 3rd House

The third house is often overlooked when people are speaking on seduction and sex appeal in astrology. People are so focused on visual they miss a key point. Seduction includes all the senses. Someone being beautiful doesn't necessarily mean they are seductive. It's the way someone moves, speaks, the things they say and don't say, how they hold themselves along with present themselves. It's subtle.

This brings me to why the third house comes into play. It inductees how we communicate. As mentioned words can be very seductive. Having planets like Neptune and Venus will give someone a sweet and sensual demeanour when talking. Neptune is very receptive and often these people are incredible at being able to asses the needs of the person they are taking to, it's a very intuitive placement. Neptune is also all about fantasy. Playing into a role you project onto them.

Pluto in the third's seductive tactics are centred around power snd control. Manipulation if you will - not always in the worst sense. They are good at digging for information getting to the base of the persons psyche that they are speaking to. Once again it's about understanding the people around them. You can see how Neptune and Pluto have this in common but the way they use this is different.

Scorpio Rising

I feel like you guys know this one has to be mentioned. And I am sure I have written about this before. However I feel it's important to explain why this rising sign specifically holds such seductive energy. I often hear people talk about their eyes, which is very true. But it goes much deeper than just appearance. Scorpio naturally rules over the 8th house, a house that is very deep and dark. It's shrouded by mystery and taboo, along with being a sexually charged house. Now think about all of these themes being brought into the 1st house. Being at the forefront of someones being in not only the way they look, but they way they carry themselves and interact with the world around them. It's very provocative energy.

But there is more. Though people may assume that because of this scorpios may give off an overt sexual energy, its not quite as obvious one one may think. Whilst there is this air of sex appeal around them, this often doesn't come from being so open and bold about these things, but rather from holding a little something back. As we know scorpio is about the things below the surface, secrets, privacy. This creates a dynamic where people can sense this energy, however they must peel back the layers and investigate more to truly see what these people are like. This can create a push and pull, a little bit of an enigma. It piques the intrigue of people and encourages the chase.

Mercury quintile/Bi-quintile Mars, Pluto or Neptune & Lilith in some cases

Very similar to the previously mentioned third house, Mercury rules over communication, along wit the way we think and process things. Having a quintile or Bi-quintile aspecting mercury it shows us that someone has a particular skill around communication. I have already explained why having Pluto and Neptune connected to areas of your chart dealing with communication creates seduction.

I also included Mars, as Mars is a planet of strategy. Often working towards a goal these people like to win, and are very good at 'winning people over' in conversation. Mars is more of a dominant planet so domination is a tactic often used by these people. Sometimes being commanded is sexy. These people speak strongly which is sexy.

The reason why I put Lilith as a case by case aspect is because as we know, Lilith often states as a place of wounding in a natal chart. It's only after someone has healed those wounds and understood the source of power that that area of their chart is with Lilith sitting there that they can truly start to embody and experience this. Though I will say having Lilith in a quintile or Bi-quintile is often easier. When developed Lilith is a very untamed energy, a little wild and unpredictable. Two traits that are extremely enticing.

Thank you all for reading my loves,

Pureastrowisdom x

Also a quick notice - I have a TikTok account under the name of

.plutonian.priestess

I would love if you would go and follow me on there too where I can post more image based content and eventually go into video style content too.

I am thinking of putting a face to my name and my account as I want you guys to see the person behind my work

[daeniradraconis]

Faceoff with Love - Jack Hughes

Summary: Jack Hughes. The NHL’s ultimate manwhore. King of confidence. Untouchable… or at least, that’s what he thought. Until he falls hard.

Warning: Implied sexual situations, mature language, nothing too wild or serious

Hey, lovelies! 💕 This is Jack's story, the next installment in what I’ve officially named The Hughes Effect Saga—because let’s be real, every brother deserves their own story. I couldn’t resist giving the main characters names since this universe is growing, and honestly, trying to write it without them would’ve been mission impossible. So, just a heads-up: Thea is Luke’s love interest! (Though if you’ve read Age Is Just a Number…Right?, you won’t see her mentioned there, since that one started as a standalone one-shot.) You can read this without reading Age Is Just a Number, but it definitely gives you more background on Jack's story if you do!

Not gonna lie, this one took forever to write. It ended up being 16,472 words and 42 pages in my Word doc—so, yeah… buckle up! 😅

Hope you love reading it as much as I loved writing it! ❤️

For more fun: masterlist

—-

Jack Hughes, star of the New Jersey Devils, was enjoying a normal morning—until the noises coming from his little brother Luke’s room hijacked his thoughts. Jack had always been supportive of Luke, and he was genuinely happy for him. After all, Luke and his girlfriend had been through a lot—the pressures of the NHL, the relentless fans, and everything in between had made starting their relationship anything but easy. He knew how much effort they both put in to make it work, and he couldn’t help but admire them for it.

But the sounds from the next room? That was a different story. Jack tried to block it out, but it was impossible. The muffled conversations—and those other noises—had a way of seeping into his mind. It wasn’t just the invasion of privacy that bothered him, though. It was what he’d learned that really threw him off: Luke’s kink.

Some things were best left unsaid, behind closed doors. But there was Luke, sounding way too eager to ask permission for... well, things Jack had no business hearing. It was burned into his brain, and he couldn’t unhear it.

“Yeah, no. Nope. That’s it. I need to get out of here,” Jack muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

With a groan, he kicked off the covers, grabbed a hoodie from the back of the couch, and yanked it over his head. “I need bleach. For my ears. And my soul.”

A coffee shop seemed like the safest escape—loud espresso machines, the comforting scent of fresh beans… anything to erase whatever the hell he’d just overheard.

As he stepped outside, he let out a deep breath, shaking off the lingering ick of the morning. He had morning skates later anyway, so at least this way, he’d be caffeinated and mentally prepared before hitting the ice.

By the time Jack reached the coffee shop, the tension in his shoulders had finally eased, the crisp morning air doing its job in clearing his head. As he pushed open the door, the familiar chime jingled, welcoming him into the warm, cozy space. It wasn’t crowded—just a handful of people tapping away at laptops, a few others lost in their books, the low hum of conversation filling the air.

Jack stepped into line, a slow grin tugging at his lips as he took in the room. He could feel it—the shift in energy, the way conversations quieted just slightly, the not-so-subtle glances thrown his way. He walked in like he owned the place. And in a way, he kind of did. Not literally, of course, but the moment he stepped inside, it was obvious—people noticed.

A couple of girls in the corner glanced up, whispering behind their hands. The old man at the corner table did a double take. A guy in line nudged his friend, a knowing smirk passing between them. Jack thrived on it. The attention, the recognition—it was something he was used to, and he had no problem leaning into it.

His gaze swept over the room, naturally lingering on the women who were stealing glances at him. A cocky smirk curled at the corner of his lips, and just for fun, he threw in a wink. A playful smile for good measure. Yeah, he knew the effect he had. Confidence? Absolutely. Arrogance? Maybe just a little. But it was the kind of charm that turned heads, and really, who could blame him? Jack Hughes wasn’t just another guy in the crowd—he was the one people noticed.

And he loved every second of it.

Jack was used to this. It was familiar. Easy. But then—he saw her.

She wasn’t looking at him. She wasn’t whispering about him, or sneaking glances, or batting her lashes like so many others did. She was behind the counter, focused on her work, crafting drinks with effortless precision, her movements fluid and practiced. There was something about her—a quiet warmth, a presence that made the entire room feel at ease. She wasn’t just beautiful; it was the way she carried herself. Feminine yet self-assured, graceful but never trying too hard.

Jack felt it immediately—the pull. Like gravity.

His heart did this stupid little stutter, and before he even realized it, he was just standing there. Staring. What the hell?

This wasn’t him. Jack Hughes didn’t freeze up over a girl. He’d had flings, fun, no-strings-attached moments. He knew how to flirt, how to charm, how to walk away before things got complicated. But right now? None of that seemed to matter.

Get it together, Hughes, he muttered under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

But then, as if she’d felt his gaze, she looked up. Their eyes met.

And in that instant, something shifted.

It was subtle. Electric. She had this knowing look on her face, like she could see right through him. Like she already had him figured out before he could even open his mouth.

And for the first time in a long time, Jack Hughes wasn’t the one in control.

Jack leaned on the counter, trying to play it cool, but he couldn’t shake the pull he felt toward her. When she finally looked up, their eyes met, and for a second, the usual confidence he wore like a second skin seemed to fade.

She raised an eyebrow as she set her hands on the counter, a half-smirk forming on her lips. "Can I help you?"

Jack blinked, catching himself. "Uh, that depends. You serving coffee... or are you in the business of making guys fall in love too?" he said with a grin, though it came out a little less smooth than he intended.

She didn’t even flinch. "Just coffee. And bad pickup lines? They cost extra."

Jack chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ouch. Brutal." He leaned in, dropping the cocky act just a little. "Alright, alright. I’ll take a latte. And a blueberry muffin. Gotta keep it classic, you know?"

"Classic? More like predictable," she replied, tossing a glance over her shoulder as she started on his drink.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You analyzing me now?"

She didn’t even look at him as she spoke. "Not really. Just guessing you’re the type who thinks a smirk and a couple of cheesy lines will get you anything you want."

Jack froze for a moment, a little taken aback. "Whoa, right in the heart," he said, putting his hand over his chest in mock offense.

She didn’t even look at him this time. "You’ll survive. Might even build some character," she added casually as she reached for the milk steamer.

Jack smirked, his confidence flickering back. "Character, huh? I’ve got plenty. Some might even say too much."

She glanced up then, eyes dancing with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. "Yeah? And who exactly are these 'some'?"

He leaned in a little closer, almost leaning on the counter now. "Oh, you know... fans, teammates, my mom... definitely my mom." He winked.

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head, her fingers expertly crafting the latte. "Uh-huh. Sure, sounds legit."

Jack leaned back a bit, watching her. There was something about how she didn’t let him off the hook. It was... refreshing. "So what’s it gonna take?" he asked, trying to play it cool again.

"For what?" She finally met his gaze, eyebrows raised.

"For you to admit you’re already a little bit in love with me," he said with a teasing grin, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She slid his drink across the counter without a hint of hesitation. "Jack Hughes, right?"

His grin widened. "So you do know me."

"Oh, I know of you," she said, turning away to grab a napkin, clearly unfazed. "You’re a good player."

Jack straightened up, puffing out his chest. "Great player," he corrected her, but his tone was light, playful.

She looked over her shoulder, deadpan. "On the ice."

Jack laughed softly, the sting of her words taking a second to hit. "Damn, alright. Tough crowd."

She smiled, but it wasn’t the soft, flirty smile he expected. It was knowing. Like she already saw right through him. "Seen your type before. You walk in, flash a smile, throw out a line or two, and think the world’s just gonna roll over for you."

Jack leaned in again, his grin slipping into something more genuine. "And yet, here you are... still talking to me. Guess you must like it."

She hummed, considering this, before turning back to the machine. "Or maybe I just like watching a guy slowly realize he’s not as smooth as he thinks he is."

Jack’s smirk returned, and he picked up his drink. "So this is how it’s gonna be, huh?"

She winked, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Oh, Hughes. You have no idea."

He laughed, shaking his head as he grabbed his muffin. "I’ve got to run. Practice later... but I’ll be back. You’re an interesting one." He winked, letting the last word linger a little longer than usual.

“Do not threaten me, Hughes,” she shot back, her voice dry but that little smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Jack turned to leave, his mind still buzzing from their conversation. He could feel her eyes on his back as he walked out the door, but this time, it wasn’t the usual adrenaline of a win. It was something else.

Maybe... just maybe, she was right. He was used to being in control, but with her? Yeah, she wasn’t having any of it.

—

The ice cream shop had a laid-back atmosphere, with a few customers scattered across the tables, quietly enjoying their frozen treats. The soft hum of conversation blended with the occasional clink of spoons against bowls and the low buzz of the freezer in the corner. The casual, easygoing vibe was the perfect backdrop for Jack to make his usual, attention-grabbing announcement.

“So, I met a girl,” he said casually, his grin practically glowing with satisfaction.

Luke didn’t even look up, already bracing himself for whatever absurdity was coming. Jack had that look—an announcement, followed by something outlandish. Thea, however, shot him a pointed glance, arching a brow in that skeptical way she did so well.

“Oh, here we go,” she muttered, barely containing her amusement.

Jack scoffed. “Wow, way to be supportive.”

Thea smirked, scooping a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into her mouth. “No, it’s just... every time you drop that line, I know I’m about to hear some delusional story about how she’s already swooning over you.” She shrugged with a grin. “Which, let’s be honest, is usually true. Flash that smile, and bam! Girls are basically tripping over themselves for you.”

Jack leaned back, clearly relishing the attention. “Exactly. It’s a gift.”

Thea rolled her eyes and casually tossed her hair over her shoulder. “No, it’s just an ego boost. You’re like a baby with a bottle—constantly sucking up the attention.”

Jack, looking entirely unbothered, twirled his spoon. “Can you blame me? I mean, why not appreciate what I’ve got?”

Luke looked up now, giving Jack a resigned look. He was ready for the same tired routine. “Jack, have you ever thought that maybe—just maybe—not every girl is going to fall for your whole act?”

Jack shot him a glance like he’d just suggested the most absurd thing. “Why would I think that? It’s never happened.” He paused, then added with a touch of uncertainty, “Okay, she’s a tough one, but she’ll come around. I think she just likes to play hard to get.” He could see the truth in her eyes—she wasn’t interested—but admitting that wasn’t an option. Not with his brother and Thea around.

Thea snorted, clearly amused. “Oh, the delusion’s strong with this one.”

Jack leaned forward slightly, tapping his fingers on the table with a confident smirk. “I’m not delusional, I’m just a realist. And the reality is... I’m me.” He paused for effect. “And I don’t lose.”

Thea let out a dramatic laugh, clearly enjoying herself. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Jack frowned, confused. “What’s so funny?”

Thea took another bite of her cone, her grin widening. “You. Thinking you’re untouchable. I love the confidence, but one day, some girl’s going to make you look like a fool.”

Jack scoffed, shaking his head. “Please. Do you have any idea how many girls would kill for a shot with me? I could walk out of here and just point at someone, and they'd be all over me.”

Luke, who had been watching the exchange unfold, finally spoke up. “Yeah, except for this one. I’m guessing she’s got a little more sense than that.”

Jack groaned, dramatically rubbing his face with his hand and shooting Luke an exasperated "you little shit" look. “Oh, come on. You make it sound like I don’t have options. I’m Jack Hughes guys—the same guy who got a date with three different girls at last week’s game.”

Thea rolled her eyes again. “Oh yeah, that’s really a sign of emotional maturity.” She shot Luke a knowing look.

Luke just smiled faintly, shaking his head. “If Jack’s ego ever took a hit, we'd probably need a whole therapy session.”

Jack flashed a smug grin, fully aware they were kind of right. “Ego? What ego? I’m just stating the facts.”

Thea leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Sure. State your facts. But you’re missing one thing, Jack.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what’s that?”

She tilted her head, clearly loving the moment. “This girl doesn’t want you.”

Jack’s smile faltered just a touch, but he quickly recovered. “Everybody wants me.”

Thea shook her head, the smirk never leaving her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Jack jumped in before she could.

“Okay, maybe except you!” He threw his hands up in mock frustration. “But that’s not my charm’s fault. You just have a thing for younger guys, so I never stood a chance. You pedo…”

Thea’s cheeks flushed, and she slapped his arm lightly, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. “Jack, you can’t call me that, you arrogant prick! Show some respect to your elders!”

Jack smirked, unfazed. “Oh, yes, yes… sorry, Ms. Senior Citizen.”

Luke chuckled softly, shaking his head. He couldn’t help but be impressed with how Thea had grown into herself. At first, their six-year age gap had made her uneasy, but Jack, being Jack, never passed up a chance to remind her of it. Luke knew Jack played this game on purpose—his teasing made Thea realize the age gap wasn’t as big of a deal as she’d thought. And over time, she’d become more confident, even starting to enjoy Jack’s dark humor. Of course, she’d never admit it, and Luke was thankful for that. Jack didn’t need any more ego boosts.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Luke muttered under his breath, as if preparing himself for the inevitable chaos. It wasn’t a prediction—it was a certainty. Jack wasn’t going to let this girl slip away, he new that.

Jack waved him off, though his signature, idiotic grin only grew wider. “Relax, Lukey. I’m unstoppable. She’s going to like me. Trust me.”

Luke sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers pressing against his temples as he massaged his forehead. “Ohhh, this is going to be such a disaster.”

Jack finished off his ice cream, still blissfully unaware of the train wreck he was about to walk into. “You two are the worst. But mark my words, she’s going to like me.”

Thea winked at him. “No, we’re just not here to feed your delusion, Jacky. You could use a reality check every once in a while.”

Jack rolled his eyes, the mischievous grin still tugging at his lips. “You know what, Lukey? Maybe you should upgrade her to someone a little younger…”

“JACK!” Luke and Thea shouted in unison, but Jack only laughed, clearly finding his own joke far too hilarious.

— 

Jack pushed open the door to the coffee shop, the familiar chime of the bell ringing through the night air, but tonight, it sounded more hollow than usual.

It was late—too late—the kind of late when the world seems to shrink into itself, wrapped in the silence of the night. The air carried the warm scent of coffee and sweet pastries, but Jack barely noticed. His mind was still spinning from the game. The Devils had lost, and his mood mirrored the dark sky outside—heavy, empty, and far too cold. Yet, despite the bitterness of defeat lingering in his chest, there was something else that kept nagging at him.

He wanted to see her.

The girl behind the counter.

It was absurd, he knew. He didn’t even know her name. But ever since the game ended—ever since he’d sat in the locker room, listening to Nico’s half-hearted attempts at positivity—his thoughts kept drifting back to her. Why? It didn’t make sense.

He glanced around, expecting the usual warmth and buzz of conversation that made the place feel so cozy. But tonight was different.

The lights were dim, and the usual chatter had faded—most likely because it was just two minutes to closing, and the last of the customers had trickled out.

Jack’s eyes immediately found her behind the counter. The girl from before.

The moment she saw him, her expression shifted, just slightly—a brief flicker of annoyance before her face went completely neutral. He could tell she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him, especially not this late.

Jack leaned against the counter, flashing his trademark easy smile. “Hey there.”

She looked up, the briefest flicker of recognition crossing her face before it disappeared. She sighed quietly, clearly not in the mood. "You again," she muttered under her breath, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "What do you want this time?"

Jack grinned, undeterred by her tone. “Actually, I realized I never got your name last time.”

She blinked, taken aback. “Seriously? You came all the way back just for my name?” She paused, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I must be pretty special, huh?”

Jack shrugged like it was no big deal. “Guess I was too busy trying to charm you last time. But hey, I did promise I’d come back.” He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering. “So now that I’m here… what’s your name?”

She rolled her eyes but grabbed some fresh milk from under the counter. “It’s Anja,” she said flatly.

Jack raised an eyebrow, as if savoring the name. “Anja, huh? Definitely sounds foreign.”

Anja shot him a dry look, hands almost slamming the milk into the fridge. “Yep. My dad’s German, my mom’s from New Jersey. Pretty exotic, right?”

Jack’s grin faltered for a moment, surprised. “Wait—your dad’s from Germany? That’s… interesting.” He paused, then added with a laugh. “That’s one combo I didn’t expect. My buddy Nico’s German too. He was born in Switzerland.”

Anja froze, staring at him. Then blinked slowly. “Wait—what?”

Jack, clearly proud of his random connection, rushed on, oblivious to her confusion. “Yeah, Nico’s our captain, super chill guy. Always telling me I should visit him in Switzerland one summer. We haven’t done it yet, but maybe next year. He’s like a brother to me, honestly. Don’t tell my real brothers, though—they’d flip. They get jealous if I even mention Nico.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, already knowing Jack had a habit of overestimating the significance of himself. She stared at him for a moment, then couldn’t help it—she burst into laughter. “No, Jack… Switzerland’s not in Germany!” She bent forward slightly, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Jack blinked, feeling a little foolish, but he wasn’t about to back down. “What? It’s a county in Germany, right? Somewhere near... uh, Munich…?”

Anja’s eyes widened, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. She let out a laugh, half-pitying, half-astonished. “Oh my God, Hughes. Switzerland and Germany are two completely different countries.” She shook her head slowly, as if he’d just told her the Earth was flat. “You’re telling me your best friend’s from Switzerland, and you have no idea where the hell is that? Seriously, could you be more American?”

Jack winced, but a grin quickly crept back onto his face, clearly unbothered by his own ignorance. “Hey, don’t forget, you’re half American too, so no need to get all high and mighty on me.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, her grin widening as she crossed her arms.“Sweetie, you’re the one who thought Switzerland was a county.”

Jack shrugged with a playful grin, raising his hands in mock surrender, his smile never faltering. “Alright, fine. But I’ll take this as a win. I’ve officially upgraded to the ‘sweetie’ category.”

Anja shook her head, still chuckling at his relentless self-confidence. “A lost cause, Hughes. That’s what you are… a lost cause.” She gave him an exasperated look, but the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Maybe try opening some books next time. Girls like guys with an actual brain.”

Jack waved it off dismissively. “I’ll let you know I do read. But yeh my brother Quinn is the nerd. Seriously bookish. Let me tell you, it’s not helping him. He’s got zero game.”

Anja flashed a playful grin and leaned in closer, the sudden proximity making Jack’s heart skip a beat. Her perfume—a fresh, orange scent that reminded him of a rain-drenched forest—hit him like a bolt of lightning. It was warm, feminine, and intoxicating. He couldn’t help but notice the way the scent seemed to pull him closer, but he did his best to keep it together.

She lowered her voice just enough to make him focus. “Or maybe... he’s just a normal guy who doesn’t want every woman’s panties to drop the second he meets them.”

Jack swallowed, his eyes flicking to her mouth, noticing the way her lips parted just slightly as she spoke. He tried to focus, but the air between them was thick with tension, the heat of her so close to him throwing him off. “Or maybe…” He leaned in, his voice dropping low, his words teasing as his gaze lingered on her lips. “He just overthinks everything. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow in life, you know?”

Anja shook her head with a soft smile, muttering under her breath as she crossed her arms. “As I said, lost cause,” she added, only half-amused, half-exasperated.

Jack laughed, relieved she was still in the game. He gave her a wink, the confidence in his smile almost irresistible. “But a charming, good-looking, lost cause, right?”

Anja rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips and the amusement in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t really bothered. Her eyes briefly caught his, and for the first time, she noticed how his blue eyes weren’t just any shade—they had this grayish undertone that made them look almost stormy. It was enough to make her pause for a moment, but she snapped back to the banter with a playful glint. “You really should’ve opened a geography book sometime. You can’t disrespect your friend this much. At least learn the basics about the poor guy’s life if you want to be his bestie.”

Jack’s grin widened as he leaned in, his light brown wavy hair falling slightly into his eyes, his expression a mix of challenge and charm. “Hey—I’d happily let you teach me about Switzerland... or anything else. To be fair, I’d let you do anything with me.”

Anja let out a breathless laugh at his boldness, shaking her head, but her eyes softened as she met his gaze. “Yeah, keep dreaming, Jack.”

Jack winked. “Believe me I will. But seriously—just give me a chance. Let me prove myself to you.” Anja rolled her eyes again, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. “Whatever, Jack. You can beg, but the answer is still no.”

Jack didn’t hesitate. The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, and before he could second-guess himself, he dropped to his knees with all the dramatic flair he could muster, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes.

Anja froze, her eyes wide, the mug she’d been about to place on the shelf still dangling in mid-air. “What the hell are you doing?!” she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and something else—amusement, maybe. It was hard to tell.

Jack tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes, still kneeling with a grin that stretched wider. “You said I can beg, but I wasn’t really begging yet, was I? Let me show you just how good I can be at it.” He fluttered his lashes and gave her the full-on puppy-dog eyes, cranking up the charm.

Anja stared at him for a solid minute, her brain clearly processing the absurdity of the situation. Then, as if a switch had flipped, she burst out laughing. “You’re insane,” she said, shaking her head, stepping back like she needed to regain some personal space from this level of ridiculousness.

Jack, still on his knees, leaned in a bit closer with dramatic theatrics, his grin widening. He clasped his hands together like he was about to give a TED talk.

"Anja, hear me out," he began, voice dripping with over-the-top sincerity. "I know you think I’m a lost cause, but I’m not just any lost cause. I’m your lost cause. And let me tell you why."

He paused for effect, then continued, ticking off his points like a lawyer making a case. "First off, I’m a party. You want a good time? I’m your guy. I can keep things fun, always ready for an adventure, never a dull moment."

He held up a finger, ready to deliver his second point. "Next, I’m a manwhore. And I know what you’re thinking—‘Jack, that sounds bad!’ But no, hear me out. Being a manwhore means experience. I know how to make people laugh, I know how to charm, I know how to—" He shot her a wink. "Well, I know how to do a lot of things. So... experience? Check."

Jack then leaned back dramatically, spreading his arms out. "And, let’s not forget, I’m a hockey player. I’m rich, athletic, and—" he gave her a sly grin, flexing his arm slightly, "look at these muscles. I’ve got the athletic build, which means a lot of energy to spare. And when I’m not working out, I’m probably... in the kitchen making all the mistakes with cooking. And that’s actually a good thing! Because you—" he pointed at her, "You can be the queen of the kitchen, living out your baking dreams while I try not to set the stove on fire. My kitchen? Practically untouched, new condition. You can take over anytime."

Anja rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t ready for what came next. Jack, still grinning, suddenly pulled his shirt up slightly to expose a well-defined set of abs. His muscles flexed with a little extra dramatic flair. "See this?" He flexed again, holding the pose for a moment. "Hard work, dedication... and honestly, a whole lot of charm. You can’t argue with that, right?"

Anja froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. She stood there for a moment, trying to process what she was seeing, before rushing to Jack. Kneeling beside him, she reached for his shirt, fingers scrambling to grab the fabric. She shot him a look of shock. “Oh my God, Jack, put it down! This is insane.” She yanked at his shirt, but Jack grabbed her wrist. His grip was unshakable, and he used his position on the ground to keep her from pulling away.

He moved closer, a glint of mischief in his eyes, clearly enjoying every moment of his act. “I’m just proving a point. I’m the full package, Anja—athletic, a manwhore, experienced, and a terrible cook. The perfect guy to have fun!”

Anja gave him a look that was half disbelief, half amusement—as if saying, "Even you don’t believe this." She tried to pull her hand away, but Jack kept his grip tight, holding her wrist steady as his grin grew wider.

Jack shrugged, unfazed by the situation. “Alright, alright, maybe my geography’s a little off. But here’s the deal: You get to be the smart one with all the answers, and I’ll just nod and smile while you school me. It’ll be your show—I’m basically signing up to be your personal cheerleader. You’re the brains, I’ll be the brawn. Need a little backup? I’m your guy.”

Anja shot him a pointed, exasperated look, surprised but slightly amused as he kept his hold on her wrist. “So, Anja, what do you think? I’m the full package—fun, rich, athletic, kind, supportive, and amazing. What more could you possibly want?”

Despite herself, Anja laughed, though she fought to hold her composure. “This is the worst pitch I’ve ever heard in my life, Jack. Seriously, put your shirt down already.”

But Jack didn’t move an inch. "You know you want to. I’m practically giving you the world here. I can be your support, your personal cheerleader. You’ll be the brains of the relationship, and I’ll—"

"—Be the ‘muscles,’ right?" Anja interrupted, raising an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a smirk.

"Exactly! I'll be your biggest fan, always backing you up. And hey, I’m probably the best at making people laugh too.”

Anja couldn’t help but stare at him—this insufferably stubborn, over-the-top guy—and, much to her own surprise, found herself laughing again. “Hughes, you’re a complete idiot. But fine,” she sighed, shaking her head, “I’ll give it to you—you’ve got muscles... and, I guess that counts for something?”

Jack shot her a wink. “Oh, it counts for everything, Anja. Everything. So, what do you say? One coffee, no weirdness?”

Anja hesitated, still gripping his shirt, then let out a long sigh. "Fine. One coffee. But just so we're clear, Hughes—this is strictly a friend thing. No boyfriend talk. I’m not looking for anything, and I definitely can’t handle you as my boyfriend.”

Jack released her wrist, smoothing out his shirt, his grin still in place but with a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Deal. I’ll settle for the friend date. A desperate man takes what he can get.”

Anja rolled her eyes, half amused. "Just... no flexing, alright?"

Jack chuckled, giving her a mock salute. “Alright, alright—I'll behave.”

– 

And Jack wasn't lying, about him being on his good behaviour.

He pulled up in his sleek car just as Anja finished her shift a couple days later. The neon lights of the coffee shop flickering behind her. She stepped out into the crisp evening air, shaking off the exhaustion of her shift, her apron swapped for a simple jacket. Jack leaned over from the driver’s seat, his grin wide, like a cat who’d just caught its prey.

“Ready for our coffee date, Anja?”

Anja rolled her eyes dramatically as she slid into the car, amusement flickering across her face.“It’s a friend date, Jack,” she corrected, her voice dripping with mock annoyance. “And what’s the plan? Where are we going?”

Jack’s grin widened. “Well, about that…” He gestured toward the empty streets. “It’s a bit late, and all the normal coffee shops are closed. But don’t worry, I’ve got a backup plan.”

Anja raised an eyebrow.”Yeh that's what I’m afraid of.”

��No, no. You’ll love this. Trust me.”Jack chuckled. 

A few minutes later, they pulled up to an old, charming bookstore that looked like it belonged in another era—warm light spilling from its windows, a glowing sign that read Open 24 Hours. It had the kind of inviting presence that made you want to step inside and stay awhile.

Jack parked and motioned for Anja to follow him in.

“This is… a bookstore?” she asked, her tone laced with skepticism but also curiosity. As she stepped through the door, the scent of old pages and freshly brewed coffee wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

“Not just any bookstore,” he said, his tone teasing. “It’s got a coffee shop inside. And pastries. Perfect place for a late-night coffee date, if you ask me.” Jack flashed a smirk, leading her toward the back. “And you thought I’ve never read a book in my entire life—guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Anja smiled sweetly, shaking her head as she followed him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Not ridiculous. Creative,” Jack corrected with a grin. 

Inside, a barista was still serving warm drinks to a couple of late-night readers, the soft hum of conversation blending seamlessly with the crackling of an old record playing in the background. Cozy armchairs and beanbags were scattered throughout the room, creating an intimate, almost dreamlike atmosphere.

Anja glanced around, taking it all in. The soft lighting, the inviting scent of coffee and something sweet—chocolate, maybe—it all made the space feel like a quiet little world of its own. A place where time didn’t feel so urgent. “Okay… I’ll admit, this is actually kind of nice. Cozy, even.”

Jack flopped onto a nearby beanbag, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “See? You can’t always judge a book by its cover.”

Anja groaned. “You’ve been in prime form tonight, haven’t you?”

“Hey, I’ve got plenty more where that came from,” he shot back, flashing her another confident smile.

He studied her for a moment before speaking again, his tone softer. “What if we swap coffee for hot chocolate instead?” His playful edge had slipped away a little. “Figured something warm and sweet might be better this late.”

Anja raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden thoughtfulness. “Hmm, actually, that sounds really good. It is too late for coffee, and I could use a decent night’s sleep for once.”

Jack’s smile deepened, satisfied with her answer. “Good choice,” he said with a wink before heading to the counter.

When he came back, he wasn’t just carrying hot chocolate. Along with the two steaming mugs, he had a plate of warm pastries, their flaky layers golden and crisp. He set everything on the small coffee table between their beanbags, the sweet smell of cocoa and butter filling the air. Something about the simple gesture—just them, the warmth, the food—made the moment feel unexpectedly intimate.

Anja dropped her coat to the floor and sank into her beanbag, letting out a soft sigh as she got comfortable. Everything about this night felt softer, easier than she’d expected.

“I really wasn’t expecting this… but it’s nice.” She reached for her mug, glancing at him. “Just don’t let the compliment go to your head.”

Jack smirked as he leaned back, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “No promises.” He picked up a pastry and held it out to her. "I figured you'd appreciate a little something sweet to go with the moment."

Anja hesitated for only a second before taking the pastry. As she bit into it, the warm layers melted on her tongue, and she let out an involuntary hum of satisfaction.

“Okay,” she admitted, taking another bite. “You’re definitely not wrong about this.”

Jack watched her, the sound of her hum catching him off guard, a hint of something shifting in his chest.

As they sipped their hot chocolate the café around them felt like its own little world—soft lighting, the distant murmur of pages turning, the quiet clinking of mugs against saucers.

Anja curled deeper into her beanbag, fingers wrapped around her mug, letting its warmth seep into her hands. Jack stretched out in his seat, looking just as content, his usual energy softened.

When they finished, Jack set his mug down with a satisfied sigh and shot Anja a look. Then, without warning, he reached for her hand and pulled her up.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Anja blinked. “Go where?”

He gestured toward the shelves. “You can’t just sit in a bookstore café and not browse. That’s practically a crime.”

She huffed a laugh but let him lead her toward the towering bookshelves. As they wandered through the aisles, Anja ran her fingers over worn spines, occasionally picking up a book to flip through. Jack did the same, moving ahead of her, plucking books off the shelves without much thought.

At first, she didn’t pay much attention to his choices—until she caught a glimpse of the titles in his hands. The Odyssey. Moby Dick. War and Peace.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, staring at him like he’d just grown a second head. “War and Peace? Really?”

Jack raised an eyebrow, totally unbothered. “What? I’ve got layers, Anja. I like to read, too. Not geography books, as you already know, but serious stuff. Might surprise you.”

Anja let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You? The manwhore of the hockey world? Reading Tolstoy? I thought you were too busy with girls and hockey to have time for this kind of thing.”

Jack smirked, holding up the book like it was a trophy. “Ha ha, really funny.” He shot her a look, clearly not offended. “I’ll have you know, girls and hockey are not the only things in my brain.”

Anja scoffed, reaching out to snatch the book from his hands. She flipped it open, skimming a few pages before looking back up at him, her expression caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“You actually read this?” she asked, holding up War and Peace like it was a foreign artifact. “Not just for, like, show?”

Jack placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Wow. Zero faith in me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, flipping through the pages. “Alright, prove it. Who’s your favorite character?”

Without missing a beat, Jack smirked. “Andrei Bolkonsky.”

Anja froze for a second, looking up from the pages, clearly thrown. “Wait, really? You’re an Andrei guy?”

Jack nodded, his expression dead serious. “What? You thought I’d say Pierre?”

“YES,” she said immediately. “Pierre’s the obvious choice. He’s way more... interesting.”

“Interesting? Pierre’s a hot mess for like, 90% of the book. The guy spends half his time getting lost, getting into trouble, and overthinking everything.”

Anja shot him a teasing glance. “Exactly. That’s what makes him interesting! He’s awkward, searching for meaning... vulnerable.”

Jack laughed, leaning closer to her. “Vulnerable? Or just indecisive? The guy can’t make a choice without spiraling.”

“That’s the whole point. He’s human. Complex.” She poked Jack’s chest with a finger, her eyes gleaming with passion as she leaned in just slightly, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth.

Jack moved closer to her, crossing his arms. “I’m sorry, but Pierre’s a disaster. Andrei knows who he is. He’s a leader, a soldier, a guy who gets things done. That’s why I like him.”

“Oh, please,” Anja scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Andrei’s the epitome of a brooding, pretentious sad boy. He spends the entire book sulking, acting like everyone else is beneath him.” She paused, a sly grin spreading across her face as if she’d just had a sudden realization. “Hmm, sounds kind of familiar, actually.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, a wide smile creeping onto his lips. “Are you calling me brooding and pretentious?”

Anja held his gaze for a beat, then shook her head. “Not exactly. But yeah, that sounds like you—at least the pretentious part. You’re not really the brooding type. You’re way too cocky for that. But I can definitely see some Andrei in you.”

Jack chuckled, a small spark flickering in his chest. He couldn’t help but like a woman who had both a strong opinion and a sharp mind. “I’m confident, not pretentious. There’s a difference. Andrei’s got his life together—he knows what he wants, he has standards, and he doesn’t just drift through life hoping things will work out. You can’t say the same about Pierre. That guy spends half the book lost in his own head, making bad decisions, and hoping the universe sorts it out for him. Andrei? He takes charge. If that’s who you’re comparing me to, I’ll take it.”

Anja shook her head, amused. “Not just that. Andrei’s just a ticking time bomb. All that ‘duty’ and ‘honor’... It’s like a mask he hides behind to avoid facing his own mess. You probably like him because, let’s face it, he’s a little bit like you in that sense as well.”

“Me? A mess? I’m hurt.” Jack let out a dramatic gasp.

Anja shrugged, a wicked grin playing on her lips. “Don’t act like it’s not true. You’re just like him. A little too obsessed with being ‘the guy who’s got it all together.’”

Jack smirked, shifting his weight casually as he placed Moby Dick back on the shelf next to them. “Andrei’s confident. I’m confident. So, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Anja raised her eyebrows. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that. But at least Pierre learns. He grows. Andrei? He just spends the whole book whining until—well, spoiler alert, he dies.”

Jack threw his hands up in mock disbelief, eyes wide. “Ouch. Ruthless. The guy goes through war, heartbreak, and personal tragedy, and you just—” He waved his hand dramatically. “Done. No sympathy?”

Anja grinned, flipping the book shut with a decisive motion. “Not my fault Tolstoy made him insufferable. I stand by Pierre.”

Jack looked at her, laughing in disbelief. “I can’t believe you read War and Peace and took Pierre’s side.”

Anja shot him a playful side-eye. “Oh yeah? You read it and picked Andrei. We’re clearly both making questionable decisions here.”

“I guess we can’t buddy-read Tolstoy together, huh?” Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

Anja crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Good. I’d hate to have to explain everything to you.”

“Unbelievable.” Jack let out an exaggerated sigh, while he tucked War and Peace under his arm again, giving her a teasing look. “Alright, book snob. Since you clearly think you know everything, what’s next? Are you going to try to convince me that Anna Karenina’s actions were justified?”

Anja gasped, eyes widening. “Jack. Don’t even start.”

Shaking her head, Anja grabbed a couple of books from the shelf, and Jack did the same. With their newfound selections in hand, they made their way back to their cozy beanbags. They settled in, the quiet rustle of pages filling the space between them.

For a while, neither of them spoke. Jack flipped through War and Peace, skimming familiar passages, while Anja lost herself in a biography of one of her favorite artists. The playful banter from earlier still lingered in her mind, but as she snuck a glance at Jack, something about the way he was fully immersed in his book made her pause.

She watched him for a moment, her smile softening. There was something oddly sincere about him like this—quiet, focused, different from the cocky, fast-talking guy she was so used to.

“Huh,” she murmured, more to herself than anything. “Guess I underestimated you, Jack.”

Jack didn’t look up immediately, but a slow, lazy smirk spread across his face. “It happens,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. “Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

Anja rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite to it. She turned her attention back to her book, trying to focus. But every now and then, she found herself glancing up—watching as Jack absentmindedly ran a thumb over the edge of the pages, completely absorbed in his book.

Anja took a deep breath, smiling to herself as she sank deeper into the beanbag. Maybe Jack Hughes wasn’t just a pretty face after all. And maybe, just maybe, this friend date wasn’t so bad after all.

—

Weeks passed, and what started as a single friend date grew into something neither of them had quite expected. Something real and deeper. Jack started showing up at the coffee shop every day after practice, sometimes before games, sometimes after. He’d slip in quietly, pulling his hood up, and find a corner table by the window. And there he’d stay, right where Anja could see him. It was like a routine now, something familiar and comforting.

He’d sit there, watching her work, the steady hum of the café filling the space between them as he lazily flipped through a book. On quieter days, when Anja wasn’t rushing from table to table, Jack would start talking—about hockey, the latest game, or whatever TV show had caught his attention. Their conversations stretched beyond the usual small talk. They argued about politics, books, their childhood, even their biggest fears. Jack was always challenging the way she thought about things, pushing her to question what she believed. And though it sometimes annoyed her, Anja couldn’t deny that she actually enjoyed it.

She began to appreciate the complexity in him, the layers behind the cocky smile and careless attitude. It wasn’t just the light teasing that made her laugh. It was the way he could discuss some silly tv show one minute and then dive into a heated debate about the latest political news the next. And sometimes, when their conversations would die down, Jack would pull out a book, burying himself in it while Anja went about her work. They’d fall into a comfortable silence, the kind only true friends could share.

More and more, Anja found herself looking forward to seeing Jack walk in. There was something about him that made everything feel a little more relaxed.

It wasn’t long before their friendship spilled over into texts. Casual check-ins after games, long messages about something that had made them laugh, or a random book recommendation. Anja, to her own surprise, found herself enjoying it. She’d thought it would be strange, having Jack’s name constantly flashing on her phone, but it wasn’t. It was… nice. She wasn’t sure when the shift happened, but somewhere between the books they’d shared, the heated debates, and the quiet moments spent together, Jack had become a friend in a way she hadn’t expected.

And now, as she glanced over at him, sitting in his usual spot, flipping through pages of Inferno by Dante, she couldn’t help but smile. 

Then, as she turned to take an order at the counter, she heard laughter from across the café. She didn’t even need to look to know what was happening. Jack, as usual, had charmed a group of older ladies sitting near the pastry case.

“Oh, come on, Marge,” he said, grinning at one of them as he leaned casually on the counter. “You can’t tell me you weren’t a heartbreaker back in the day. I bet you had all the boys lined up.”

Marge, a widow in her seventies who came in every morning with her two best friends, waved him off with a playful scoff. “Oh, hush, you flirt. You’re just trying to sweet-talk me into buying you a cookie.”

Jack gasped dramatically, but his confident smile was still on his face. “Marge, I would never!”

Anja, overhearing the entire exchange as she filled a coffee cup, tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh. She bit her lip, shaking her head as Jack continued his antics, effortlessly charming the older women like he was born to do it.

But then, when his gaze flickered back to Anja, something changed. The easy, flirtatious grin softened. His shoulders relaxed. He still had that effortless confidence, that natural charm, but when it was just the two of them, it was different. He didn’t need to perform. He let Anja see something deeper—something quieter, more thoughtful.

She walked past his table, setting down a fresh cup of coffee without him even asking. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” she murmured, shaking her head.

Jack just smirked up at her, his voice dropping into something softer, something just for her. “Yeah, but you like it.”

Anja rolled her eyes, but she didn’t argue. Because maybe, just maybe, he was right.

– 

Jack hated these nights.

Another brutal loss. Another night of feeling like the weight of the entire team was sitting on his chest. With Nico out, the pressure had been on him to step up, to push the team to a win. And he tried. He fucking tried. But it wasn’t happening.

And to make matters worse, the apartment wasn’t exactly peaceful.

A muffled whimper filtered through the wall. Then another. Then—Jesus Christ.

Jack clenched his jaw and rolled onto his stomach, shoving his pillow over his head as if that would help. Spoiler: it didn’t.

Luke and Thea were home. And happy. And apparently, they had absolutely no concept of thin walls.

And maybe Jack was just being petty, but it was hard not to feel... left out. Especially when he remembered how he’d been on with Anja these past few weeks.

Jack had never experienced a true friendship with a woman, but Anja was different. From the start, she made it clear that she only saw him as a friend—and that was fine with him. At first, he struggled to accept it, but over time, things shifted. They grew closer, spending hours together, laughing, talking, and sharing moments. Jack found himself explaining the New Jersey Devils to her—a tough task, especially since she was a Bruins fan and knew next to nothing about his team. Patience wasn’t his strong suit, and the fact that she didn’t seem to care made it even harder to keep his cool. Still, he couldn’t help but respect that she wasn’t one of those girls who swooned over him. It was... refreshing.

But still... there were nights, like tonight, when it hit him.

He couldn’t deny it—he was drawn to her. He loved their friendship, no question, but deep down, there was always that something more. That unspoken tension, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. He wasn’t ready to face it. Jack didn’t do love. It was just sexual tension, he told himself. It couldn’t be anything more. After all, Anja was a beautiful, young woman, and he was a ridiculously good-looking athlete. Of course, they had chemistry. But that’s all it was. 

And then there were nights like this, where his mind wandered off course, and instead of texting her—because that would be weird—he went back to his old habits. Hook-ups. Quick distractions. Just something to get his mind off things.

So, he picked up his phone and fired off a few texts. It was easier this way, he told himself. 

It wasn’t like he wanted anything serious with anyone else. He wasn’t looking for that. But sometimes, he just needed a reminder that he could still get attention from people. He still had that pull. Even if Anja didn’t feel the same way.

He knew what he was doing wasn’t exactly healthy. But it was easier than dealing with the things that really mattered.

Five weeks since he’d met her. Four weeks since she had completely turned his world upside down. But that wasn’t her fault. He was the one who couldn’t seem to figure things out.

His phone buzzed almost immediately. But it wasn’t the message he was expecting.

A: Hey, Prince Charming.

Jack smirked, running a hand through his hair as he read the text. The nickname had started after their first friend date, when she’d looked at him with that amused glint in her eye and said he reminded her of a fairytale prince—all looks, maybe not completely dumb, but let’s be honest, not that smart either. He should’ve been offended, but for some reason, he fucking loved it when she called him that.

Another buzz.

A: So, that was a really shitty game. You sucked today.

Jack barked out a laugh. Jesus. He loved that this woman didn’t hold back. Everyone else always tried to phrase it in a way that wouldn't bruise his ego. Not Anja. She came at him full force.

J: Wow. Don’t hold back or anything.

A: I don’t do sugarcoating. You were bad. Like, painfully bad.

J: Yeah, yeah. I know. Thanks for the reminder.

A: Anytime, Hughes.

Jack shook his head, still smiling as he stared at the screen. His other texts—the ones he’d sent out looking for a distraction—were sitting there, unread. He didn’t even feel like checking them anymore. Instead, he rolled onto his side, typing out another response.

J: So what, you just text me to roast me, or are you actually gonna make me feel better?

A: Oh, I was getting there. You’re a disaster, but at least you’re a pretty disaster.

J: Pretty disaster, huh? Wow, really boosting my confidence here.

Jack rolled his eyes, but a small smile spread across his face.

A: You’re welcome. It’s the least I can do. You looked so sad out there today, I felt bad for you.

J: I don’t need pity. I need sleep.

He ran a hand through his hair, irritation creeping back in. The game had been brutal, and now he was staring at the ceiling again, the exhaustion weighing on him. Tomorrow’s practice would be hell if he didn’t get some sleep. His body was already aching from the game, and now this.

A: Oh, so now you want sympathy? Make up your mind, Hughes.

J: I’m just saying, I’m exhausted. And I’ve got thin walls here—Luke and Thea are having the time of their life, and I can’t escape it. I’ve tried everything. Nothing works.

A: Ah, poor thing. Just not jealous?

J: Trust me, the last thing I want to do right now is stick my dick in anybody. I don’t even know how Lukey does it. Guess being young helps… Maybe Thea was right about that stamina thing...

A: Jesus Jack! You really don’t have a filter. TMI! But…Well… I mean, if you need a place to crash, my couch is always available.

J: Wait, seriously?

Jack paused, blinking at his phone. He wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or serious. But there was a part of him that was already considering it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a night to himself that didn’t end with him staring at the ceiling.

A: Yeah, I’m serious. We’re friends. Even if this is painful for me to admit. And I live basically 10 minutes from you. Just come over.

J: …Wait, you actually want me to crash at your place?

A: Just don’t make me regret this, Prince Charming!

Jack chuckled. This… this was definitely unexpected.

J: Alright, fine. I’ll take you up on the offer. Thanks, Anja!

—

Jack stepped into Anja’s apartment, every muscle in his body groaning in protest.

His legs ached from the game, his mind was a chaotic mess, but right now, all he could think about was sleep. Real sleep. Not the restless, half-conscious tossing and turning that had been his last few nights. He needed to crash—hard.

And then he saw her.

Anja stood in the soft glow of the apartment, wearing loose, dark pajamas, her hair twisted up in a messy bun. No makeup, no effort—just her. Effortlessly beautiful, untouched by the outside world.

Jack’s brain stalled for a second.

How the hell was she this attractive without even trying?

He shook the thought away. It was exhaustion, right? Had to be. She was just… Anja. He was too damn tired to think straight.

So, Jack did what any man on the brink of collapse would do—he went straight for the bed, flopping face-first onto the mattress without asking.

Behind him, Anja leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. “You know the rules. Couch.”

Jack groaned into the pillow. “Anja. Please. My body is broken. My soul is hanging by a thread. And that couch? That couch is where souls go to die.”

Anja snorted. “You’ll survive.”

Jack rolled onto his side, his eyes heavy with tiredness, but he still managed to give her a slow, teasing glance. "You’re seriously gonna make me crash out there when there’s a whole king-sized bed right here?" He patted the mattress like it was the most inviting thing in the world. "Come on, that’s practically a crime against humanity."

Anja lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “You are humanity’s crime.”

Jack grinned. “Thank you.”

She sighed, rubbing her temple like she was already regretting every life decision that had led to this moment.

Jack pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Alright. Let’s make a deal. I’ll do anything. Literally anything. Name it.”

Anja smirked. “Anything?”

Jack nodded solemnly.

“I want—” she paused for dramatic effect “—a New York Rangers jersey.”

Jack’s face twisted in disbelief. “Okay, that’s just plain evil, darling.”

Anja smirked, knowing full well how much Jack loathed the Rangers. Her hockey knowledge was avarage, but she was well aware of the hostility between Jack’s team and their biggest rival.

Jack exhaled in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, new offer: I’ll make you breakfast.”

Anja let out a short laugh. “You can’t cook, Jacky. That’s basically a threat, not an offer.”

“Incorrect,” Jack said, giving her a playful look as he pointed at her.“I can cook. I just choose not to.”

Anja stared at him, unamused.

“Okay, fine,” Jack groaned, his hands raised in mock surrender. “I can make breakfast. Still counts.”

“That’s just eggs. And even those are awful,” Anja remarked dryly.

Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, still technically breakfast.”

“Anja,” he said, voice grave. “I am a man at his lowest. My body is failing me, my will to live is fading, and you—” he pointed dramatically at her “—have the power to save me.”

Anja blinked at him, unimpressed. “You are so dramatic.”

Jack pressed a hand to his chest. “I prefer passionate.”

She rolled her eyes again, exhaling like this whole act was physically draining her, and for a second, Jack thought she was going to send him to the couch anyway. But then she let out a long, resigned sigh, shaking her head like she already regretted it.

“One night,” she said, pointing at him sharply. “And no funny business.”

Jack shot up like he’d just been given a second lease on life, already pulling off his hoodie as he practically dove under the covers. “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Anja muttered something under her breath about regretting this already, flicking off the light as she climbed into bed beside him.

Jack exhaled as his body sank into the mattress, tension bleeding from his muscles. But just as his brain started to shut down, he caught it—her scent.

That unmistakable mix of orange and peppermint.

It was everywhere. In the sheets, in the pillows, in the air itself, wrapping around him and settling into his skin like a slow, creeping warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

His body relaxed instantly, but his mind? His mind did the opposite.

He wasn’t sure why this felt different. Why she felt different. Why, after all the nights spent in beds that weren’t his, this—lying next to Anja, stealing her blankets, breathing in the scent of orange and peppermint—was the only thing that had ever felt right.

He hated how much he liked it.

Jack turned his head toward her, voice low, teasing. “You know, if you let me stay in this bed again, I’ll compose an original poem just for you.”

Anja groaned. “Shut up, Hughes!”

Jack grinned. “A sonnet, actually. Or maybe a haiku—short and sweet. You know, something like—” He cleared his throat, pretending to get serious before continuing, “Shall I compare thee to—”

Anja rolled over, cutting him off by slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Enough,” she murmured, her voice light but warm, with a hint of something almost... hesitant.

Jack blinked up at her, his lips still pressed against her palm. The room felt different all of a sudden, as if the air had thickened. Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe something else entirely, but the shift between them was unmistakable.

Neither of them moved for a moment.

Jack could feel the heat of her skin against his face, and saw how her breathing slowed just a fraction, like she had only just realized how close they were. He should say something, crack a joke, break the silence. But for once, he didn’t.

And then—because he was Jack—he wiggled his eyebrows.

Anja blinked at him, like she was snapping out of a daze, and pulled her hand away, rolling onto her side. “You’re such a pain.”

Jack chuckled, stealing half the blanket. “And yet, here I am, still in this bed.”

Anja rolled her eyes, pulling her blanket back. “You’re lucky I’m not making you sleep on the couch. And honestly, how do you know what a haiku is? You didn’t even know that Germany and Switzerland were two different countries.”

Jack groaned, but the smile never left his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly. “I’m misunderstood,” he muttered, like he was truly burdened by it.

Anja laughed softly, the sound light and warm in the dim room. “Yeah, the real mystery, Jack Hughes. You’re dumb enough to confuse countries, but you’re cultured enough to drop haiku on me.”

“Hey,” Jack said, lifting his head and squinting at her with a playful grin, “I’m a complex man. Who loves literature.”

She rolled her eyes once more, but a smile played at the corners of her lips. “And that’s exactly what makes you so damn annoying.”

Jack smirked, sinking back into the pillows. “Glad to see you recognize my complexity.”

Anja sighed, still facing away, though Jack could feel the faint shake of her shoulders as she tried to stifle a laugh. “You really think you’ve won, don’t you?”

Jack relaxed into the bed, the warmth of her body and the soft sound of her laughter soothing him. “Oh, I know I have.”

Anja scoffed, but Jack could hear the smile in her voice. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Jack smirked, his eyes fluttering closed. “Oh, I will.”

—

Jack sat at the kitchen table, staring down at his coffee like it owed him money. His head was pounding, and the goddamn world seemed way too fucking chipper for his liking. His body was sore as hell from practice, but it was nothing compared to the frustration buzzing through his brain.

“You’re a ray of sunshine today, Jacky,” Thea chirped as she walked in, pressing a kiss to Luke’s head. Of course, Luke had to shoot her a goofy grin, like he was a damn golden retriever. Ugh. Disgusting.

“Shut up, pedo,” Jack mumbled, trying to sip his coffee without gagging. He didn’t care if his tone was off. He wasn’t here for their bullshit today.

Luke rolled his eyes, totally unfazed. “What the hell happened to you, man? You were all full of energy this morning—like, bouncing off the walls—and now you're just... this.” He gestured at Jack, who was hunched over the table like he was already dead inside.

Jack snorted, clearly not in the mood for a pep talk. “Maybe I’m just tired of people asking me why I’m an asshole. Get a new hobby.”

Yeah, Luke was right. He knew that. But honestly? He had way bigger problems right now. Like, Anja.

This morning had started off like some cheesy rom-com, and Jack was seriously starting to panic about it. He woke up, and there she was—her small, warm body tangled up in his, all soft and perfect. For a split second, he actually thought about kissing her—maybe snuggling, maybe even making her coffee. What the hell? When had he become the type of guy who fantasized about making coffee for someone? What was next, brunch? Fucking brunch?!

But, of course, it wasn’t until he was changing out of his hockey gear, post-practice, that he realized what a weird thought that was. He wasn’t exactly known for catching on to things quickly. He knew his flaws. But here he was, practically having a meltdown over the idea of wanting to snuggle.

And the worst part? The morning had been way too perfect for his comfort. Like, Anja didn’t even make the cuddling weird. Which, on any other day, would be a blessing. But now? He was thinking about her—and not in a “she’s a cool, funny friend” way. No, this was different. This was “I just woke up in her bed and I’m wondering if we should get matching coffee mugs” levels of insane.

They’d woken up, did the lazy morning cuddle thing—because apparently, Jack had no self-control—then they’d grabbed coffee. He’d cracked a few jokes about the news, she’d laughed like it was just another morning. And, damn it, it felt so normal. Too normal.

And then came the worst part: he kissed her on the cheek when he left. Like, a peck. And she blushed. She fucking blushed and wished him a good day like she was some picture-perfect, Hallmark-movie wife.

Did he just call her a wife? Oh, hell no. That couldn’t be a thing. He wasn’t ready for that.

He gulped down more coffee like it was going to fix this internal meltdown. The burn hit his chest, but the panic was still there. He had to shake it off. This was stupid. Anja was just a friend—no, not just a friend, she was a friend who he happened to share a bed with... and now apparently, his feelings? What the hell was happening to him?

Jack swore under his breath, rubbing his forehead. This wasn’t him. He was the guy who had no problems keeping things casual, no strings, no feelings. But now? Now he was screwing up his own rulebook. Anja is a friend…just a friend!

Jack sighed dramatically, letting his frustration hang in the air like a thick cloud. “Look, I don’t know what the hell is going on, alright? But I feel like a goddamn idiot. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this. I should be pissed about my game, but instead..." He rubbed his forehead, hoping it would somehow stop the mental chaos.

Luke, ever the observant little shit, raised an eyebrow. “So this is about her? Anja, right?”

Jack shot him a look that could’ve melted steel. “Well, no, I’m talking about the weather, Luke. Of course it’s about Anja. Who else would it be?” He paused, then—BAM—his brain hit him with a sudden revelation. Wait a second—this was actually Luke’s fault. “Actually, this is your fault, you know. If you and Thea weren’t busy mating like a pair of rabbits, I wouldn’t have had to leave the house yesterday!”

Luke’s smirk was already five miles wide. “Man, just admit it. You’re into her. You’re all mopey and pissy because you’ve got no idea what to do with it.”

Jack glared at him like he just insulted his entire existence. “Fuck off. I don’t do feelings. And I sure as hell don’t do snuggling.”

He immediately slapped his hand over his mouth, realizing he'd maybe over-shared just a bit.

Thea grabbed an apple from the fridge and plopped herself down on Luke’s lap “Snuggling? Snuggling? Oh, Jack, you are so gone.” She bit into the apple dramatically, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“You sure about that ‘no snuggle’ rule?”Luke teased, clearly enjoying the moment, as he lightly traced circles on Thea's exposed hip.

“Oh, Luke, do you remember what Jack said to Quinn?” Thea tilted her head, changing her voice to mock Jack. “‘Who said anything about it ‘meaning’ anything? I’m just here for the ride, bro.’” She smirked. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”

Jack groaned. “Oh, God, please, feel free to enjoy my suffering. It’s what you’re best at.”

Thea clutched her chest like she was watching the best drama unfold right in front of her. “Oh, I’m living for this. You know, those moments that are so painfully awkward and secondhand embarrassing that they keep you entertained for weeks? Jack Hughes falling in love—now that’s the kind of content I’ll be replaying in my head forever.”

Jack shot her a glare. He knew exactly what she was referencing. That was his line—the same one he threw at Thea when he caught her sneaking out of Luke’s room. Yeah, maybe he’d been a little too smug about it at the time. And sure, he knew she’d get her revenge eventually.

But honestly? Making his brother and his date uncomfortable had been way too much fun.

Jack would love to say he’d learned his lesson.

But he was way too much of an asshole for that.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy every moment of this,” Jack grumbled, grabbing the last of his coffee and standing up. “Because this will be short. I’m just gonna figure my shit out. No more cuddling, no more kissing her on the cheek like I’m some goddamn romantic. I’m not built for this.” He slammed his mug down with a little more force than necessary. “I’ll find some random girl tonight, bang her, and get over this. Problem solved.”

Luke just shook his head, his curly hair bouncing with the motion, falling in soft waves across his forehead. “You know you’re not fooling anyone, right?”

Jack shot him an icy glare. “Shut up, Mr. Pedo Lover.” He practically growled as he stomped over to the sink, banging the mug down.

Thea and Luke exchanged a look, their smiles knowing. They didn’t even need to say anything, and it pissed Jack off even more. He muttered under his breath as he turned to leave the kitchen, needing to get away before he said something even dumber. But in the back of his mind, his thoughts kept running. Fuck. What the hell was he even doing?

—

The music pounded through the bar, a steady, brain-numbing beat. Jack Hughes barely noticed, his attention fixed on his beer as he took a slow sip.

He was in trouble.

Not because of the game. Not because of a fight. But because, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a single fucking woman he wanted to take home.

And that was a problem.

A huge problem.

This Sunday night was supposed to be easy. A big win finally, a few drinks, a quick fuck. No strings, no thoughts, no mess. That was the routine. That was him. And yet, here he was, staring into his beer like it held the answers to his fucked-up brain.

It was Nico’s slap on his back that snapped him out of it.

“Come on, man! What the hell’s up with you? You’ve turned down, what? Ten girls already?”

“Four,” Jack muttered.

Nico laughed, shaking his head. “That’s not like you, Jacky boy. You sick or something?”

Jack grunted, smacking Nico’s hand away when he pressed it to his forehead. He took another long swig of beer, hoping the alcohol would do something—blur the edges, dull the noise, drown out her.

Because that was the real problem, wasn’t it?

Anja.

The fucking Anja Syndrome.

Every girl, every goddamn girl, he measured against her. And every single one of them came up short.

Too blonde. Too tall. Too high-pitched. Too weird with her fucking drink.

It was bullshit.

Jack never gave a shit before. He didn’t care if they were tall or short, blonde or brunette. If they had a body and were willing, that was enough. And yeah, he knew that made him sound like a dick, but he was 23, a pro athlete, and he’d be an idiot not to enjoy the perks.

So why the fuck was he sitting here, empty-handed, second-guessing his entire goddamn existence?

“Come on, Jack,” Bas nudged him, nodding toward the bar. “That little blonde has been eye-fucking you all night. Give her some mercy.”

Jack glanced over.

Petite. A little too skinny, but she had pretty greenish-brown eyes and a face guys would probably call “cute.” She was fine.

She should be perfect.

But she wasn’t her.

Oh, fuck off.

No more of this shit.

This girl was hot, and she was ready to go. She was exactly what he needed to snap himself out of this bullshit.

“Perfect,” Jack muttered. Ignoring his teammates’ laughter, he downed the rest of his beer and pushed himself to his feet.

With long, confident strides, he crossed the bar, slipping back into the guy he used to be—the one who didn’t overthink, didn’t feel. He flashed his best smirk, the one that melted panties before he even said a word.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he drawled, voice dropping into that low, rough tone that always did the trick.

The girl beamed. “Hey! Took you long enough.” She giggled, the sound high and grating.

Jack forced a smirk. “You know how it is—can’t ditch the team right away.”

He didn’t care about the small talk.

Didn’t want it.

He just needed this to work.

“So… wanna head to the back with me?” He made sure his tone left no room for misinterpretation.

The girl’s eyes sparkled. “Of course.”

That was all he needed.

He took her wrist, weaving through the crowd until they reached the back exit. He’d spotted the terrace earlier—quiet, dim, completely empty. Perfect for what he needed.

And the second the terrace door swung shut behind them, Jack wasted no time.

He grabbed the girl by the waist, pulling her flush against him, his mouth crashing onto hers with a force that had always been enough. His hands slid down her back, gripping, squeezing, searching for that familiar spark—that fire that always ignited the second he got a girl alone.

But nothing came.

Not even a flicker.

The girl moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, pressing herself against him like she wanted to be devoured. It should have been hot. It should have sent a jolt straight to his dick, setting off that automatic chain reaction his body had perfected over the years.

But there was nothing.

Nothing except a creeping, cold frustration curling in his gut.

No. No, this was just in his head. He needed to push through it. He could push through it.

Jack deepened the kiss, tilting her head back as his hands roamed lower, his body pressing her into the brick wall behind them. He rolled his hips forward, desperate for his body to wake the fuck up, desperate for the heat to kick in, for the hunger to return.

Still nothing.

His pulse pounded—not with arousal, but with something dangerously close to panic.

What the fuck was happening to him?

The girl let out a high-pitched giggle, threading her fingers down his chest, her nails scraping against his shirt as she reached for his belt.

"Let me take care of you," she whispered, voice dripping with suggestion.

Jack flinched.

His stomach turned.

It wasn’t her voice.

It wasn’t her hands.

He sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself to snap out of it. He could fix this. He just needed to focus.

He dropped his head to the girl's neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her throat, hands gripping her hips, fingers digging in. He sucked at her pulse point, dragging his teeth over her skin in the way that usually made a girl melt against him.

She gasped, arching into him, nails raking down his back.

Jack felt nothing.

His body was like a fucking corpse.

Dead.

Unresponsive.

Refusing to play along.

And then, before he could stop it, before he could shove it back down where it belonged—her face flashed in his mind.

Anja.

That smug little smirk she got when she knew she was right. The way she tilted her head when she was listening to him talk, like he was the most interesting person in the world. The fire in her eyes when she called him on his bullshit.

The way her body had felt against his that one night when they slept in the same bed.

The way he’d spent every second since aching to feel it again..

Jack froze.

His entire body locked up, his breathing sharp and erratic.

The girl noticed immediately.

"You okay?" she murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw, hands still working at his belt. "Just relax, baby."

Jack jerked back like he’d been burned.

Baby.

She wasn’t her.

She would never be her.

And for the first time in his life, that mattered.

"Fuck," Jack breathed, running a shaky hand through his hair.

The girl frowned. "What?"

He swallowed hard, his throat dry as sandpaper. "I— I can't. I— This isn’t gonna happen."

Her expression flickered with confusion, then shifted into irritation. "Oh, come on. You just need a little—"

She reached for him again, her hand slipping down toward his belt, but Jack caught her wrist before she could get any further.

"No." His voice was firm. Sharper than he intended.

She yanked her hand back like he’d slapped her, eyes narrowing. "Seriously?" She let out a harsh laugh, crossing her arms. "What, you bring me out here just to waste my fucking time?"

Jack exhaled heavily, raking both hands through his hair. His chest felt too tight, like his ribs were closing in on his lungs.

"You’re not her," he muttered, his voice raw, barely above a whisper. He shook his head, running a shaky hand through his hair.

"Fuck. You are not her."

And that was the problem.

Her gaze darkened with annoyance. "Oh, so it's me that’s the problem?" She scoffed. "Classic. Maybe next time don’t bite off more than you can chew, Hughes."

And with that, she spun on her heel, shoving open the terrace door and storming back into the bar.

Jack didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

His back hit the brick wall as he slid down, knees bent, head tipped back against the cold surface. His breaths were uneven, his entire body wound too tight, but still—nothing.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching uselessly in his lap.

His body had never betrayed him before.

Never failed him.

And now?

Now, it was screaming the truth at him.

The truth he’d been trying to ignore for weeks.

He didn’t just want Anja.

It was worse than that.

She was the only one who fucking existed.

And he was so. Completely. Fucked.

—

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. The girl in the back. His body refusing to cooperate. The cold panic that had washed over him like a wave when he realized it wasn’t just that he didn’t want her—he didn’t want anyone. Not unless it was her.

Anja.

That thought hit him again. Like a sucker punch straight to the gut.

He hadn’t realized how deep this shit went until now. He’d spent weeks trying to deny it, trying to make himself believe that it was just a phase. That he could get over it. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because Anja wasn’t just someone he was into. She was the one. She was it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it. His mind was too loud. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else. Not right now. Not when his entire body was screaming one thing.

Her.

He reached the street and stood there for a second, trying to get his bearings. The world around him felt off-kilter. Everything looked distant, like he wasn’t actually here, like he was floating in some fucked-up dream.

“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, pulling his phone out. He tapped through his contacts and hit the taxi app without a second thought. He needed to get to her. Now.

His finger hovered over the ‘Confirm’ button before he pressed it without hesitation. He didn’t even care if he was drunk—he couldn’t stay here, couldn’t keep sitting with the fucking mess in his head.

He could already feel the buzz from the alcohol, the remnants of the beers he’d downed earlier, swirling in his blood. But it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered except getting to her.

The ride felt endless. The city lights blurred outside the cab window as he stared at his phone, willing it to stop feeling like it was vibrating in his hand. His mind kept replaying the images of Anja—the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, the sound of her voice when she laughed at his dumb jokes. God, even the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating made him want to crawl out of his skin.

By the time the taxi pulled up to her building, Jack didn’t know if he was angry, frustrated, or just scared shitless. Probably all of the above.

He handed the driver a few bills without even looking at the change, already pulling the door open and stepping out before the car had even come to a full stop. He jogged up the steps of her building, his hands clammy, stomach twisted in knots.

When he reached her door, he didn’t ring the doorbell. He didn’t wait. He just raised his hand and banged on the wood, the sound echoing in the stillness of the hallway. He felt like he might pass out from the tension in his body, the anticipation clenching his chest tighter with every passing second.

It felt like forever before he heard the sound of footsteps. And then the door creaked open.

After a few seconds, he heard the shuffle of footsteps, and then the door cracked open to reveal a very unimpressed, very sleepy-looking Anja. Fuck she was beautiful. 

She blinked at him. “Jack?” Her voice was groggy, her hair a mess. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said quickly. “I—I needed to talk to you.”

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Are you dying?”

“No.”

“Is someone else dying?”

“No.”

She squinted at him. “Are you drunk?”

Jack hesitated. “...A little.”

Anja let out a dramatic sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Alright, go on then. What’s so important that you had to wake me up in the middle of the night?”

Jack opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

Then ran a hand through his hair because shit, this was harder than he thought.

“Okay, so—” He exhaled sharply. “Something happened tonight, and I think I’m broken.”

Anja raised an eyebrow. “Broken?”

“Like, physically broken.” He gestured vaguely to himself. “Like… I had a girl—a very hot girl, by the way—practically throwing herself at me, and nothing. Not a damn thing.” He pointed at his own chest. “My body just—betrayed me.”

Anja stared at him for a second. Then, to his absolute horror—she burst out laughing.

Like, full-on, body-shaking laughter.

Jack scowled. “Okay, rude.”

“Oh my god.” She clutched the doorframe for support, laughing so hard she nearly lost her balance. “Jack, I swear, if you woke me up just to tell me you couldn’t get it up, I’m slamming this door in your face.”

“It’s not about that!” Jack groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Well, it is, but it’s also not.” He sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Look, I was with this girl, right? And she was perfect—like, objectively, guys would kill to be with her. And I tried, I really tried—”

Anja snorted. “Poor girl.”

“—but the whole time, all I could think about was you.”

That shut her up.

Anja’s smile froze, her laughter dying in her throat.

Jack swallowed hard. “That’s the problem, Anja. It’s you. You’ve ruined me.” He pointed at her like she was some kind of criminal. “I used to be great at this. No thoughts, just vibes. But now? Now, I go out, I find a hot girl, I do my thing—except I can’t do my thing, because all I can think about is how she doesn’t laugh like you, or talk like you, or smell like you, or—fuck, Anja—hell, even the way she breathed just annoyed the hell out of me.”

Anja blinked. “...The way she breathed?”

Jack threw his hands in the air. “Yeah! Stupid, right?! But it mattered! And you wanna know why? Because she wasn’t you.” He let out a frustrated noise, pacing in a small circle before turning back to her. “I fell, Anja. Hard. And I don’t even know what the fuck to do with it, because I’ve never—” He stopped, exhaling shakily. His voice dropped, raw and unguarded. “I’ve never been in love before.”

She stared at him, eyes wide, lips parted slightly like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh again or take him seriously.

Jack exhaled loudly, raking both hands through his hair. “So, yeah. I’m here. I’m standing on your doorstep like a fucking idiot, telling you that I’m gone for you. And I don’t even know what I expect you to do with that information, but I couldn’t not tell you, because keeping it inside was making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Silence stretched between them.

Jack’s pulse thundered in his ears as he watched Anja process everything he just blurted out like an absolute lunatic.

Then, slowly, she started smiling again.

And then—yep, there it was—she was laughing again.

Jack groaned. “Oh my god, Anja, I’m baring my soul here!”

“I know,” she gasped between laughs. “That’s what makes it so funny!” She wiped her eyes. “Jack Hughes, king of hookups, showing up at my door at one in the morning to tell me he’s emotionally constipated and in love with me? This is gold.”

Jack scowled, crossing his arms. “I take it back. I don’t like you anymore.”

Anja just grinned, stepping forward until she was standing right in front of him. “Too late, idiot.”

Jack’s breath hitched.

She was close now. So close that he could see the tiny freckles on her nose, the way her lips curled just slightly at the corners like she was still fighting laughter.

Then, before he could say anything else, she reached up and flicked his forehead.

“Ow,” Jack muttered, rubbing the spot.

Anja smirked. “That’s what you get for waking me up.”

And then—finally—she tugged him down by the collar of his hoodie and kissed him.

Jack froze for half a second before his brain caught up.

Then?

Then, he kissed her back.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t rushed or uncertain. It wasn’t a fleeting thing. This was everything he’d been missing, everything he didn’t know he wanted. The warmth of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the unmistakable scent of oranges that clung to her skin—it was intoxicating. He couldn’t breathe without it. Without her.

When they finally pulled apart, Anja’s smile was wide, like she’d just won something precious.

Jack blinked at her, heart pounding. “So, just to clarify… you like me too, right? This isn’t just, like, a pity kiss?”

Anja rolled her eyes, but the affection in her gaze was clear. “Yes, dumbass. I like you.”

Jack let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his entire body sagging with relief. “Oh, thank God.”

She laughed again, the sound like music to his ears, shaking her head as she pulled him inside.

And just like that, Jack Hughes—the guy who swore he'd never let anyone in—was completely, hopelessly lost.

—

It took Jack three months to finally introduce Anja to Luke and Thea. Not like he didn’t want to shout it out to the world the very next morning after his drunk love confession that Anja had said yes to be his girlfriend. The thing was, saying those words had felt strange, almost surreal for Jack. He didn’t remember the last time he’d had a real relationship—maybe back in high school? But high school felt like a lifetime ago. And back then, relationships were fleeting, brief. Nothing like what he felt for Anja.

But after meeting Anja, everything started to feel different. Jack couldn’t stop thinking about how he felt when he kissed her, when she smiled at him, when they were together, just the two of them. It wasn’t about sex, and that was the biggest shock to him. Every relationship he’d had before had always been tied up in physicality—chasing the high of the next touch, the next kiss, the next night. But with Anja, things were slower. The chemistry was undeniable, but they didn’t rush into anything. They took their time. And Jack was fine with that. 

So when Jack finally brought Anja around Luke and Thea, it felt like a milestone. They immediately clicked with her and both of them could see how well Anja handled Jack’s sometimes overly confident, sassy nature. Anja, in her own calm, collected way, knew how to ground Jack. She didn’t put up with his antics, but she didn’t try to change him either. They balanced each other out perfectly. Jack made Anja more confident, and she made him more humble. The shift in him was noticeable—his arrogance softened when she was around.

Things between Jack and Anja were effortless, natural. They’d fallen into a rhythm—hanging out with Luke and Thea, then slipping into quiet nights together. They’d binge-watch their favorite shows, wander around town grabbing food at random spots. But as their connection deepened, so did the tension—the unspoken feelings Jack wasn’t ready to confront.

Anja had made it clear she wasn’t in any rush, but Jack noticed a flicker of impatience in her over time. And he understood why. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to rush things. He didn’t want to mess up what they had by diving into something physical, especially after everything he’d been through. Every other relationship had been based on attraction, and they’d all ended in disappointment. This time, he wanted something real. He wanted something that could last. He cared too much about Anja to risk ruining it.

Then came that night. After a double movie date with Luke and Thea, the evening wrapped up with everyone saying their goodbyes. Anja had laughed with Thea all night—joking and teasing like they’d known each other for years. Jack watched them, captivated by how easy and natural it all was. And more than once, he found himself just staring at Anja, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to have someone like her in his life.

As Luke and Thea headed off to their room, Anja turned to Jack, her smile soft but knowing. She stepped into his space, her body warm against his as she slid under his chin, leaning into his chest. Jack’s breath caught, his heart rate picking up. The scent of her perfume only made everything more intense.

"Hi," she said, her voice low, playful.

"Hi, baby," Jack responded, his smile matching hers, but there was something more beneath the surface. He brushed a strand of her hair from her face, his fingers grazing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. She was up to something.

Anja’s fingertip traced small, slow circles on his neck—light, teasing touches that were enough to make his body respond before his mind could catch up. "So, I was thinking..." she said, her voice filled with mischief.

"Dangerous thing to do," Jack teased, his voice rougher than he intended, heat already pooling in his chest. He could feel his body weakening.

Anja giggled, hitting him lightly on the chest. "Shut up, you."

Jack grinned, but his thoughts scattered. Her touch was like fire, and it was hard to think straight with her so close.

"Can I stay the night?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was an edge to it now—something more vulnerable, something Jack couldn’t ignore. "I’ve missed you these last couple of days. Your schedule’s been all over the place, and I’ve been working late shifts... It’d be nice to just snuggle with you. You know, wake up next to you."

Jack’s brain short-circuited. The thought of waking up beside her, of having her close, overwhelmed him. Just the way she said it—her words carrying something deeper—made his heart race. He couldn’t focus on anything else. She knew exactly what she was doing. The sly smile on her lips, the gleam in her eyes—it all made it clear she wasn’t just asking to stay. She was asking for something more.

Jack kissed her temple—soft, quick—before answering, his voice unsteady, without thinking, “Sure, Jaja. That sounds amazing.”

"Thanks, baby," she said lightly, almost singing the words. "I’ll just grab one of your T-shirts for PJs and take a quick shower."

Before Jack could even process it, Anja jumped up from his lap, leaving him sitting there alone, his mind racing. She was leaving him spinning, and he had no idea how to catch up. He tried to steady himself, but his thoughts were already scattered, caught between what he wanted and what he was afraid of.

“Minx,” Jack murmured under his breath, leaning back into the couch, running a hand through his hair. He knew exactly what she was doing, but he wasn’t ready to play along—not yet. Anja deserved more than a rushed moment while his brother and his girlfriend were just down the hall.

Still, the thought of her in his T-shirt, of her curled up beside him, made it hard to resist.

—

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think about anything else. Hockey stats. The weather. The existential dread of taxes.

Then the bathroom door clicked open.

Jack’s head snapped up.

Anja stepped out, bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. Her damp hair cascaded over her shoulders, darkened from the water, strands sticking to her collarbone. His breath stalled in his chest as his gaze drifted lower, catching on the oversized white T-shirt she’d chosen.

His T-shirt.

The fabric was old, worn thin from years of washing, clinging just enough to show the shape of her body. It barely covered her thighs, teasing at modesty—but when she moved, the dim light made the cotton damn near see-through. And under that shirt…nothing. Not even a pantie.

Jack’s grip on his phone tightened. Hard.

She knew what she was doing.

Anja smirked, catching the way his dark eyes flickered over her before he forced them back up. The way his chest rose and fell just a little too fast. She crossed the room slowly, stepping onto the bed, crawling toward him with deliberate slowness. Her fingers traced over his bare arm, featherlight, enough to make his breath hitch.

“You know,” she murmured, tilting her head, “I could have brought my own pajamas.” Her smirk widened. “But this just felt… better.”

Jack swallowed hard, his back pressing against the headboard like it could somehow create space between them. He needed to slow this down. He needed to say something—anything—to keep himself in check.

“Anja…” His voice was low, rough, a warning.

She didn’t let him finish.

Curling up beside him, she let her lips graze his jawline, barely a whisper of contact. Jack went still, every muscle in his body wound tight. Her breath was warm against his skin, her presence intoxicating, impossible to ignore.

“Relax, Hughes,” she teased. “I know what I want.”

Jack exhaled sharply, his hands flexing at his sides. He wanted to touch her. Badly. But if he did, there’d be no going back.

Anja’s fingers slid under the hem of his shirt, her nails tracing faint patterns across his stomach, slow, exploratory. “I want you, Jack,” she whispered against his ear. “Not just the careful version of you. I want all of you.”

Jack clenched his jaw, tilting his head back, fighting for control.

“Anja…” he ground out, his voice thick with restraint, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

She shifted, straddling his lap, her hands gripping his shoulders, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t I?” she challenged, her gaze locked on his.

Jack knew that look. The same one she’d given him in the bookstore the first night they met—the night they sat there, arguing over War and Peace, the night he’d felt something shift inside him. That knowing, unwavering gaze.

“I saw you, Jack,” she said softly. “Not just the cocky hockey player everyone else sees. Not just the guy who acts like nothing gets to him. I saw You. And I think—no, I know—that we are perfect for each other. So stop fighting. Stop being afraid that being yourself will chase me away. I trust you. With my heart, with everything.”

She leaned in, lips brushing his ear, her voice a breathless whisper.

“So take me, Jack.”

Jack’s restraint snapped like a frayed thread.

His hands found her waist, fingers pressing into her skin, pulling her against him. With a rough growl, he flipped them over, pressing her into the mattress, his body caging hers in.

His lips crashed onto hers, all heat, all desperation. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t slow. It was every moment he’d held back, every time he’d wanted her and hadn’t let himself have her.

Jack’s hand slid up, fingers curling around her throat, firm enough to make her breath hitch. His grip wasn’t tight—just enough to remind her who was in control. He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue sweeping inside, swallowing the soft gasp she let out.

Anja rocked her soaked core against his thigh, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging, demanding more.

Jack pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his breath ragged, lips swollen, self-control slipping fast. “You sure you want this?” His voice was rough, almost a growl. “Luke and Thea are in the other room. And you won’t be quiet if we start, darling.”

His eyes locked onto hers—one last chance to stop him.

Anja arched up, pressing her body flush against his, nails scraping down his back, making him suck in a sharp breath. Her smile was wicked, teasing. “Pretty sure we’ve both heard enough of them to know they’re not exactly holding back.” Her lips brushed his ear, her voice pure sin. “It’s our turn.”

Jack’s smirk was slow, dark—pure fucking trouble. That cocky, self-assured look that had driven her crazy since day one.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over her throat, making her shiver. “You just opened Pandora’s box.”

[sweetsaladpainterranch]

The Rival

Summary: Alastor sought to possess one of the only does in Pentegram City for the rut season, however, you wanted a mate, not a master. But what happens when a handsome new buck shows up one day and tries to capture your attention away from the Radio Demon. Who will you choose?

(Just some practice at writing drama but I hope you enjoy)

You weren't stupid. You knew that Alastor would call upon you only because he needed a warm body to ride out his rut and not out of any naive sense of romance. Every few months you'd receive an unsurprising visit from the Radio Demon casually resting in your hotel room before whisking you off for a vigorous week of reliving both of your heats. His earthy pheromones having triggered your own. It was usually obvious when Alastor would arrive because you could always feel fiery red eyes on your form and often noticed a dark presence shifting around in your peripheral vision. Of course, this would have freaked you out but it was also nice that you didn't have to go out of your way to avoid the numerous male cervid demons suffering through their own rut cycles of the season. Having never seen another female deer demon, you realized you were probably in for a bad time if one of those desperate bastards got a hold of you. So you didn't mind a little extra security as you went about your business. 

The very moment you walked through your door, an almost overwhelming scent of a warm, mossy, musk invaded your senses as waves of static washed over you. "Ah, there's my pretty doe. How was your day out my love?", Alastor greeted you in his typical cheery voice that made your heart flutter, but you knew the sweet-sounding pet name was only a product of his possessive manipulation. He knew very well how you reacted to his charm and he had no qualms about using it to gain your sexual compliance. "Oh, you know, quiet as Hell can be." You sat across from him on an armchair and smirked at the bittersweet domestic feeling as his shadow appeared next to you with a tea cup and a small bowl of sugar cubes. You scratched its shadowy scalp with gratitude as you took the offered drink, "And thank you for the company lately", you cooed to its delighted purrs. 

Alastor cleared his throat to get both of your attention as he began, "Yes, well”, he suddenly appeared in front of your chair and bent down to your eye level, "your protection would prove much easier if you would simply make a deal with me so that all of those pathetic weaklings would know who you belonged to." You didn't miss how his voice deepened into a static-filled threat but that didn't stop you from brushing away his outstretched hand as you stood up to put away your things. Of course, Alastor had been trying to get you to agree to a deal since the beginning of your...relationship(?), however, you had seen and known many people who deeply regretted making a deal with him. You knew he only wanted the same thing as every other cervid guy, regardless of how you felt about him. He didn't want a mate to love and protect. He wanted to possess the rare commodity of a breedable doe for himself.

 "I don't belong to anyone, Alastor.", you snapped, "You already give me protection from other males in exchange for my working you through your heat." He let out a dismissive chuckle when you shimmied your ample chest, but you saw the slight blush creeping across his face at the visions likely dancing through his mind. 

God, sometimes you wished there were more women deer around so that you could just live your fucking afterlife in peace. (But then, what if you'd never met Alastor and he had found another to see his ruts through?)

***

As you both headed downstairs to dinner, Alastor more so following you as was his habit during the season, you could hear Charlie loudly speaking to someone.

"Great! Well let's head o-", she was cut off by your entrance into the lobby which revealed a large figure sporting an impressive set of thick antlers. You could feel Alastor stiffen and tighten his hold on your shoulders. The scent of the visitor told you why. It was definitely another male deer, also nearing his heat like Alastor, and it was obvious that he must've followed your feminine smell here. Charlie began to walk towards you with a large smile, "Oh, hey there! I was actually just about to show our newest guest", she gestured in the stranger’s direction, "a tour and I'd love you to join us as other deer demons." She had a hopeful bounce in her step, "This is James.", who nodded and began to look you up and down with intensity. 

"Yes, I'm very interested in what your hotel may offer, Ms. Charlie." He was wearing a loose-fitting flannel shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a pair of worn jeans, but you could tell that he was absolutely jacked. His forearms alone looked like freaking tree trunks and he was easily taller than even Alastor with an equally enticing scent that made your stomach flip. James had begun to move further in your direction, however, a loud growl ripped through the lobby as ear-splitting static made everyone turn to its source behind you. 

"I'm afraid we've no vacancies at the moment.", he snarled, "Allow me to escort you towards the exit." Alastor had already begun to grow into his demonic form and used his shadow tendrils to violently eject the large buck onto the front lawn before anyone could make a sound. 

Charlie quickly darted after the two males, followed by you, only to be confronted by an impossibly odd sight. James stood tall without a scratch or sign of fear on him in the face of a giant, demonic Alastor. He even looked like he was all too happy to clap back with a strong, demonic aura of his own. However, the princess halted Alastor's intended strike with a burst of flames and a disappointed comment at his attitude towards a potential guest. And immediately apologized to James as she whirled around him checking for injuries, but none were to be found. 

Did Alastor take it easy on this guy? Why? He's always simply killed potential rival suitors, this one in his territory no less, so, why was he still alive?!

Charlie returned to the lobby, leading James by his massive arm, and proceeded to ask, a very pissed-looking, Alastor to fix the now broken doors as she led the two of you on a tour of the hotel. You could feel both James' smile and Alastor's silent rage boring into the back of your head as you walked with a clueless Charlie.

***

The intense air of murderous intent in between the two male cervids had only gotten worse over the next week after freaking deer Paul Bunion was placed in a room next to yours, which was across from Alastor’s. Charlie thought you'd be able to better connect another deer demon and maybe help him if needed, though she had no idea about the conflict she had placed in your lap.

James commented, during a group share circle, that he assumed that he was a Canadian reindeer, who was relatively new to Hell. He also made it clear that he simply didn't know, or care, who the Radio Demon was. The two constantly locked horns, both physically and metaphorically as the countdown to the rutting season was running out. You also found out through Angel Dust that Alastor was absolutely forbidden from using his power to injure a resident of the hotel. 

Which you assumed was why he didn't simply wipe James off the concrete outside like a pancake off a hot griddle. 

However, this didn't stop Alastor from staking his claim on you in other ways. For instance, he always had to have a hand on you somewhere. On your knee during group talks on the lobby couch, on your shoulder while you ate a meal, and on your lower back when he walked you from room to room. James didn’t seem to give too much of a fuck as he frequently kept at your other side and proceeded to continuously compliment you, give you small gifts, or make a particularly chapped joke that you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at. Of course, that usually resulted in being pulled closer into Alastor’s side away from the other male as he snarled and rubbed his face into your hair to try and mark you with his scent.  

You couldn’t lie. You very much enjoyed the attention of the two strong males as they vied for your affection and mating rights.

One early morning, while Alastor was forced to leave your side, in order to attend an overlord meeting, James found you in your rose garden behind the hotel and offered to help you plant your new buds. After a few minutes of digging and placing the rose roots, he spoke up, “Can I ask if youse and Alastor are an item?”. He smiled at your blushing expression and continued, “Not to offend ma’am, but I’d like to show you what a true buck is.”

Your eye twitched a bit at the insult towards Alastor, but you remained calm, “It's… complicated between us.”. James simply leaned in and smiled encouragingly, “Alastor isn’t exactly into relationships, but he takes care of me during the rut season.” 

“What about the rest of the time?”, he asked while bringing his face practically an inch from yours, “Does he make you feel like the forest queen you are? Or does he simply forget you until he needs something from you?” His steel eyes brightened in victory at your affirming face toward his questions, “I-I…um…”, you tried to defend your reasons for continuously coming back to Alastor again and again even though he couldn't care less about you during the rest of the year. 

He held your hand tenderly in one of his, while also cupping your cheek with the other and whispered, “Let me give you what you deserve, sweetheart. Love not possession. Tenderness, not indifference.” You were so absolutely enthralled by his deep voice and his potent musk that you could only stare blankly as he finally leaned in and softly pressed his lips against your own.

***

Hey, Again this is just some drama and relationship writing practice for a beginner class I'm taking.

-SSPR

[ghostgirl-22]

Just saw a reddit post about a guy who was given a handjob by his gf at a male stripclub, he said he took her there for her birthday, "to a nice one not one of those dirty raunchy ones." And thought it was artashi coded

Like maybe tashi asked to go "for her birthday" and hes fully supportive but really it was for art because she doesnt like him repressing that side of himself, its not something they talk about but she brings him there to "let him have it"/have a safe space and jerks him off while looking at the male strippers

I love this! <3

CW: 18+ NSFW, public sex, exhibitionism, (as always the ghost of Patrick lingers in the background)

—-

It’s not a big deal. Tashi really wanted it for her birthday and Art would do literally anything for her. Even sit up front. Right up front next to pretty boys on stage showing off. And it’s fine. Art’s seen men in various states of dress all throughout his life. He’s a professional tennis player after all. It’s not a big deal. 

The place is fancy, high end. They’re sitting on leather lounge seats under purple and blue neon lights, VIP, and the place is packed. 

He’s looking around the club, it’s mostly groups of women and gay men. He doesn’t know how many men come to these things with their wives or girlfriends but he doesn’t see any right now. Tashi’s sipping champagne, she smiles at him. She looks so beautiful in her shimmery slip dress.  

“Don’t worry. It’s fun, I loved it last time,” she says, in his ear as the emcee gets on stage to announce the show. 

All the dancers enter the stage in three piece suits to cheers and screams from the audience. Art doesn’t think it’ll be a big deal till the last boy walks on, Lorenzo is what the emcee calls him. 

He’s tall, lean with dark curly hair and shocking blue eyes. Art has to take a breath when his gaze lands on their section. He smiles, it’s this pretty half amused thing and he winks. If Art didn’t know better he’d think it was for him but he can hear the people all around their section screaming for him. Lorenzo’s showing off right away, keeping eye contact with their section of the audience, grinning as he undoes the top buttons on his dress shirt exposing a bit of chest hair, to the sound of their excited cheers. 

Art shifts in his seat leaning forwards. 

Tashi touches his thigh and leans in. “I think he’s the hottest one.” She says, softly in his ear. It’s really not hard to see why. 

“Doesn’t he look kinda like…” 

Tashi shrugs, “Ah…” she says softly, “i didn’t even realize.” 

Art swallows.

The sound of OMG by Usher starts blaring loudly from the speakers and the boys start dancing around the stage. They’re pulling women (and men) up to dance with them on stage while slowly getting more and more undressed. Lorenzo’s grinding up against one his fellow dancers who reaches over and pulls his shirt completely off and starts rubbing at his nipples, hands wandering up and down his abdomen and chest. Lorenzo looks all blissed out pushing back on him and Art can’t keep his eyes off of him. 

His bare chest, the obvious bulge as he slowly lets his fellow dancer undo his pants. He’s probably so fucking horny right now. Standing on stage with all these eyes on him. Women and men lusting after his body every night. Imagining themselves up there with him, imagining themselves fucking him. Taking his hot little body apart, bit by bit. Maybe his dancer buddy does it… pretends he’s just dancing like their having sex but he actually fucks him up there. On stage in front of everyone.  

Art doesn’t think he’s imagining it now. Lorenzo’s definitely looking at him. Art holds his gaze, his mouth feels wet all of a sudden.  

“Shit I think he’s eye fucking you,” Tashi giggles. 

Art takes a breath and quickly looks at her. “What? No. He was looking at our section.” 

“Mmhm,” she smirks and turns his head back. Lorenzo is smiling again, amused expression on his face.       

“I think he’s a tennis fan,” Tashi says softly.  Someone’s walking up to put money in his waist band and then he turns to his dancer buddy, and starts loosening his tie. Art feels Tashi’s fingers as she runs them further up along his upper thigh, her knuckles grazing against his swollen cock. “Oh my god, baby, look at you.” she whispers and Art starts to flush.

”I’m sorry… I… it’s not what you think,” Art says. 

“Aww baby. It’s okay… I like it too.” She says softly. She kisses his throat and he sighs. “God. Fucking look at him.” 

Art bites his lip as she starts to unzip his pants. Sneakily easing her hand inside to grip him. He bites down on a groan as she starts working his cock. Lorenzo’s floppy dark hair is all in his eyes. He’s covered in the thin sheen of sweat but his gaze does keep coming back to Art. Like he wants it. Like maybe he wants Art to get behind him and fuck him on that stage. And Art would do it. Fuck that silly little smirk off his face till he’s all desperate and whiny and everyone will know. Everyone will know that blue eyed dark haired boy really, actually belongs to him. Art can’t help himself, he’s moaning now.

”Oh that’s it baby,” Tashi says softly, scooting closer. “Mm I got you.” 

Lorenzo seems to realize what’s happening between them and he’s grinning at Art, he slowly starts easing his tight little boxer briefs lower on his waist, revealing his jutting hip bones and the dark line of his treasure trail. 

“Take it off!!” Someone behind them squeals excitedly, trying to compete with the rest of the crowd and the dj.

“Oh fuck,” Art breathes, as Lorenzo turns around, pulling them down over the swell of his ass. It’s so fucking perfect. Fuck. Art doesn’t realize how close he’s been till he’s groaning, spilling sticky and warm in his underwear.

”Oh shit,” he breathes and Tashi giggles. 

“Good boy. That felt good huh?” She smiles and uses her cocktail napkin to wipe off her hand. 

Art is breathless but he kisses her anyway. Pulls her onto his lap, her pretty little slip dress riding up her soft thighs. “It’s supposed to be your birthday.” He says, slipping his fingers between her thighs, shes fucking drenched.

”This is what I want,” she says, softly. “I wanna make you feel good.” 

“I wanna make you feel good,” Art counters.

She giggles, sliding off his lap. “Mm baby, we’re not allowed to do all that out here. But maybe we can get a private dance from him? I mean we both like him.”  

He takes another glance at Lorenzo, showing off his pretty cock on stage. He’s definitely got a chubby, it doesn’t seem like he’s supposed to, but he doesn’t seem to care. God, of course he’s not exactly the same, but the attitude and the energy are so familiar.

Art bites his lip and nods. “Yeah, private dance, lets um… lets do it.” 

[drdemonprince]

so first off, sorry bc this is super fucking heavy.

re: commonalities between cis and trans men, and that other ask. something I've had to come to terms with is how even as a teenager before I had the concept of transitioning in my head - I still got all of the societal messaging wrt misogyny, etc. I totally benefited from it, even as a woman. I put other girls down. I was the cool chick. I cashed in where I could with it. i was absolutely a chauvinist when I transitioned. I felt inhuman as a woman, but I understood that ultimately that's the way women were *supposed* to be, as much as I wished otherwise. it took a long time to unlearn that.

my personal experience makes me very uncomfortable when I see other trans men talking about gendered socialization, or how overly negative people are towards men as a class. I wonder if they have ever sat down and really reconciled with the way they have, and do, benefit from their gendered position, or if they've convinced themselves they can't be a "bad person" by virtue of their birth sex.

I can't find a nuanced way to talk about this that won't be read in bad faith as essentialist rhetoric. rape culture is the system by which consent violation is normalized, its all the music and books and movies and bad relationships I assumed were normal and romantic as a young adult. I really, really hurt people, and I did it as men are encouraged to do, and as they are rewarded for doing. I found affirmation in hurting people, and it is so fucking easy to do this without even really thinking of it because it's the entire culture you've come up in.

I'm not even talking like, obvious cases here like phyrical domestic abuse & intentional date rape. there are so many subtle boundary erosions, there's weird gray areas around drugs & alcohol, there's attitudes and expectations in established relationships, there's the potential to exploit community for personal gain. there are partners who will fear you, and freeze and fawn and will not tell you "no."

a lot of the "we need a special word for masculine transphobia" types seem to also disavow the possibility that they hold male privelege. but we need to look at that shit, sexual or otherwise. it's scary to see guys who see women talking about it and they knee-jerk shout back "I'm not a rapist" and "not all men." guarantee some of them are, and just aren't aware of it. i was.

Thank you so much anon for this really brave, candid message. I think it's something that a lot of the trans guys crowing in my inbox about how cis men "are the bad gender" need to hear. (yes, someone literally said that to me). Portraying gendered categories, especially ones based on birth assignment!, as ontologically more evil or pure than others sets people up for abuse. Separating cis men out from trans men erases the ways in which trans guys can both leverage power and the ways in which toxic masculine norms are transmitted culturally to everyone regardless of assigned sex at birth. Lots of trans guys are palpably uncomfortable with their power, and can only see that relative to cis men, they experience transphobia and misogyny in greater amounts, and so they presume they must be in a highly victimized category. But they dont ever consider that as men they can and do often wield power over women -- especially trans women -- and they've got to fucking learn how to handle that reality responsibly, which many cis men actually do know how to fucking do. Especially multiply marginalized cis men who have been preyed upon and exploited themselves.

I think it's really powerful to hear you taking ownership of the actions you've taken that have hurt others, and the allure such actions had. Very few people have the courage to look their lower moments in the face and affirm that it's actually a part of them. If we're ever going to stop abusing and talking over women we've got to own up to our shit. I've seen what can happen when men come together to be vulnerable about their struggles, own their wrongdoing, and seek to change -- back when I was working in a men's drug treatment program. We can overcome this shit and take responsibility. But a lot of the birthday boy trans guy squad is incensed by even the idea of owing anything to anyone. Like a lot of MRAs.

[ammyamarant]

Kamen Rider Gavv ep 1 thoughts

Just going to watch one episode right now because I need to finish Kabuto and I need to Know what Kabuto has up its sleeve. But, the tl;dr of Gavv: Cute show, I can see how traumatized this poor kid will get by the end

Gavv ep 1

okay so I’m already reminded of W. Wonder if there will be a mentor figure that dies like Soukichi does in the first fucking five minutes of W

oh neat doors. I’ve seen Labyrinth too.

jfc how old is this kid he looks baby

yeet out of a plane and the tinkly “oh this is the world mom is from” music lmao

lbr considering the environment you just escaped from and the way you were happy to be freefalling because you were where your mom is from, I think needing some food is understating it.

"what do you have? Do you eat it?" has the same energy as my "what is gender? do you eat it?" joke

WHAT IS YOUR BODY MADE OF

Karakida I want your jacket. Give

Ah you have no communication skills. Understood

"This isn't a monster case" "So what is it?" "Woman fucking killed her own husband and shh keep your fucking voice down"

"today's harvest" and it looks like bloody organs. Hey I've seen 12 Hour Shift too.

oh you've never been allowed actual food have you

oh goddamn it I can hear Apollo aiming the dodgeball already

my dude. you got a tummy ache then gave birth to something. human women would kill for that to be their normal gestation cycle.

mm, cgi is kinda……………………

"hey now I've been fed actual food and have real energy I can make minions" yeah I mean that makes sense. People get all kinds of bodily processes back once they've been properly fed. Usually takes a while for their body to recover but hey you ain't human so I get it

this kid is so sweet and kind giving obvious main character (yeah I know it's shouma) a place to stay and some sweets to eat.

oh right the street drugs WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT HENTAI ASS THING

oh it's just a mouth. Wicked teeth.

Shouma is such a sweetheart

Also ye, I can see why Shouma is enchanted by sweets if his mom never let him have any of the family drugs.

excuse me I need to figure out a way to get into this world and beat down this addict before he hurts this kid

Shouma I would like a full rundown of what you can do because was that super speed and running perpendicular on a vertical surface? My dude? Answers?

Mm, sick monster design

Yeah, the monster and the kid both being like "hey what the fuck" to Shouma is fucking hilarious.

oh fucking ow

your mom turned into a bloody organ thing. Are we sure this isn't just a horror movie?

I feel like these minion things showing up saying "eat gummy!" shouldn't feel as threatening as they do.

OH GOD THE CRYING EYES. I'M HOWLING

"oh with the other one" lmao

I wonder what this show is like on edibles because the bright colours are fun and I had a blast watching Ex-Aid baked. Tho I'd consider that a little too on the nose considering the street drug metaphor of those dark candies

little dudes go somewhere safe that isn't under the fighting feet!

oh interesting so if he gets a lot of battle damage he can repair it by using another minion. Very neat. Wish more "battle damage" was repairable that easily. Looking at you, 3rd Birthday.

oh calling both of them monsters and Shouma just taking it is heartbreaking.

I'm definitely feeling the difference between Takaiwa and whoever the suit actor for Gavv is, but it's more "huh, that's a different way of doing the stunts" than anything bad. I do miss Takaiwa but that's mostly because he's a fucking legend. This guy's doing great, tho.

did… they repurpose the build driver for this?

takaiwa usually stood upright, even for meek characters like Ryotaro, while it seems like this guy's default stance is hunched over. iiiiiiiiiiiiiinteresting. Says a lot about Shouma in this form

okay I was about to say this Rider Kick is lame, but nah, it's pretty good.

Shouma you are sunshine and joy wrapped in ptsd. That's not even a joke I know you're fucking riddled with ptsd from just your memories of your mother alone

Shouma you are not Eiji stop being a hobo

Cute show.

[itsmelloww]

bit unhinged over og MW games

Thought to post an update for my own sake on a post i made a while back where i was noting my thoughts on CoD , cause i came across it just now and it was fun seeing how i felt at that time

It's been some time now i've been in the fandom and honestly..... i've gone backwards. Literally. Yeah, MW was great --- Now, let's talk about the OG MW GAMES.

I can't even care about the reboots now, I am neck. deep. at this point into the original games its not even funny.

Ill just say this: the Girls love St Soap MacTavish.

💋THE WOMEN YEARN FOR CAPTAIN MACTAVISH.💋

YALL WOULDNT EVEN BEGIN TO UNDERSTAND THE CHOKEHOLD MR CAPTAIN SIR HAS HAD ON ME OVER THE PAST MONTH.

HOW IS HE SO BAD?!???? I m not even kidding id risk everything for this man. Deadass looked at my friend the other day and was like 'Scottish Accent is so hot' -- not an objective opinion; i have a MAN in mind when i say this.

Hes just... A MAN?. LIKE, A MAN. thats all ill say.

And then..... fuck me.

Makarov?

I remember first time i saw the OG i was like damn. (apathetic)

Terrible to admit it, but this man has such a fucking charm no wonder everyones been thirsting over the 'OG' makarov. I get yall. I understand!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ill make a sep post on him though cause genuinely his 'designs' go from feral to mr suave and i think its so fun. Theres 0 consistency and i live for it. one moments he's mr good looks, the next it's giving angry small dog.

I also found his voice lines and hes so UNHINGED in them. literally crushing out in your ear, i was so amused, i was doing skin care the other day listening to him go 'GO. GO. GO. GOOOOO' voice cracking and all and i was like yup, this is white noise 🤍

Then, Price. Now, i am a reboot Price enjoyer. Never going to change that. But OG Price... feels like such a ... beast?

He.... idk, he has this vibe to him. Idk if yall had these uncles growing up that were always a bit rusty and crusty and had a bit of a feral vibe to them, yet they were always fucking STRONG and COMPETENT out of nowhere? Like you knew that if uncle pulled up it was game over, hed walk everyone like a dog. thats the vibe OG Price gives to me. i know this descriptions sounds dumb, but just like those uncles, i fucking love Price. OG Price has grown on me soooo much, literally such a dad, and his relationship with Soap is just -- ackk 💔

I also need to say this for anyone who may read this who is an Reboot Soap fan but is into captain Soap as of late --- READ. THE JOURNAL. WITH CAPTAIN MACTAVISH IN YOUR HEAD. It just CLICKS so much more and makes the captain even more fascinating.

First time i read the journal i had reboot soap in my head and rereading it and connecting it to the captain's actual experience and thoughts is just chefs kiss. Sounds obvious, but have a feeling certain peeps may do the same thing as me.

In the journal you get so many insights of soaps care and devotion to Price and it just adds so much... depth. and its very endearing to read.

I love the reboot characters but the OGs are just so... endearing overall. they really stick to you. and personally theyve stuck to me way more than the reboot ones, even though i love the reboot, dont get me wrong.

Lastly -- Roach. This guy..... u just hear him grunt, and yet somehow still manages to get you. For me its also reading soaps journal, the way he refers to him, looks after him, describes his achievements and struggles, you see Roach fleshing out in that way too. And hes just interesting, and i think its so great they integrated this character alongside Price and Soap who youre already so familiar with and care for - cause when in turn THEY care for Roach, it makes Roach really stand out.

Guess i should say something about OG Ghost too -- dont got too much, but i thought i'd find him bland when compared to the reboot, but for what he is in the og games, i find him likeable. i like his voice and the personality that comes through them. because we know his past, but we also know the reboot ghost's personality, og ghost kinda stands in the middle and makes you wonder when you see this more / slightly more emotional side thats not as reserved and cold as reboot ghost. dont even know if im making sense, but bottom line is, i like og ghost as well.

anyways, i got lots to say. I really want to record more of my thoughts, in less of an unhinged way so might do that one day. i like looking back at these posts anyways. Cant evn begin to really dig deep into how exactly i feel about these characters, so itd be fun to attempt at some point.

Anyways, live laugh love Captain MacTavish. 🖤

[aprilllto6]

Are you not in the I like older guys club? What's old?

eh it like totally depends, i find most of the stuff on here lile older guy stuff so second hand embarrasement, its like your datin FOR the age gap which is creepy, if you wouldnt date someone in your own age range then hell NO i think it honestly just shows immaturity from both sides if its just like the base of it is just age, also fucking online relationships are a big red no, tbh only if it was in real life or nearby and we got on, i feel like i used to be so up for it but that jst shows like how concerning it is.Also its scary, because you never know how that person will percieve you (from experience) bc like teenage girls change ALOT , and like i can see how big the liked awareness of intelligence difference is and.... why would you want that in arelationship.. its questionable i dunno, lik physically yeah older guys are way more attractive to me generally, but i can see that in a few years ill look back and be like damn she was so young even then, i wonder how stupid they saw me as, it screams emotional manipulation, taking advantage of someone whos more mentally vulnerable then yourself and its so obvious, most people must be well AWARE. It is not these girls lacking self confidence, and attentions fault for advertising themselves like this its just ingrained into the flipping patriarchy-> leading to basically the marginilisation of older women, as a stable partner for an older guy bc he wont be fufilled in the same way, but like wanting older guys bc they seem more mature? when bare sexual desire for wanting younger women just showcases IMMATURITY. guys im speaking angrily bc like i need to hear this a year or two ago, I'd say its not like completley out of the question, but like hard to overcome i guess, im not stupid enough to think my intelligence can compare to some-one with 30 years longer of learning then me, but maybe thats just personal experience and my current opinion on this.

[yourlovermumu]

so i was thinkingggg

should i do a bakugo and reader fanfic where its set in a desi setting? like indian, Pakistani, or bangladeshi setting.

and like the trope is slow burn and marriage of convenience. AND CHILDHOOD FRIENDS.

basically bakugo and your parents happen to be in the same social circle and so basically you and bakugo often saw each other at several parties and events such as weddings and family gatherings.

you guys were particularly close but werent exactly strangers to each other. growing up you, bakugo, and izuku would run off somewhere alone to play around at these events. but as you all grew older you both stopped showing up to these events as often. well...mostly bakugo. you and izuku would show up to these family events and such with your parents quite alot more then bakugo would.

you and bakugo stopped seeing each other as often eventually and drifted apart. the friendship and joy you two shared together as kids are now distant memories. especially with bakugo moving to japan to chase his ambition.

but soon enough after your twentieth birthday you hear his coming back and his parents are arranging a friendly gathering with close family and friends and that they are back in their motherland. and of course, your family is also invited.

you dont think much of it, really. its such another one of those events and family gatherings you have grown customed to growing up where you did.

it isnt odd in the slightest to get invited someone's home in occasions such as this.

but what is odd is the way your dupatta gets stuck in his watch and suddenly your not looking at anyone but him. but its not like he is in any better condition then you. he is also frozen. just staring. staring at you.

your eyes are locked with his and suddenly you dont seem to remember why you looked behind your back. why? because you felt a tug on your dupatta? thats not what matters to you right now. because with the air getting knocked out of you with the way his so far but...feels so close. you can see all the features of his face so clearly. he has certainly grown much, much more handsome in the time you two were apart for the past 7 years.

but did his eyes always look at you like? no...not when you two were kids, no.

and that fact only makes you all the more aware that you two arent just two kids sneaking away from your parents to play in a abandoned room in the far corner where no one will bother you both.

his a man. and your a women.

a soft chuckle from him breaks you out of your trance. its a intoxicating sound. his voice is deep, you note.

''not gonna untangle your dupatta, chutki?'' theres that sexy smug smile on his lips when he says that.

you cant help but roll your eyes at the nickname. its the same exact one he called you ages ago. but thats when you didnt even know where babies come from.

if it werent for his handsome face, he best bet you'd slap his face one way or another. just like old times.

but that lighthearted air that surrounded you both is now far gone with you sitting across from him. your parents at your side and his mother and father right by his.

the air is filled with grim air that only you and bakugo can sense. your parents seem to be in their little world.

their beating around the bush is obvious enough. you can already tell what this is about. and so can bakugo.

and non of you know how to feel about it. but one thing is clear, your both not kin on the idea.

''you two have grown of age. its time for marriage isnt that right?'' your mother says with a friendly smile on her face. and you so wish you could just bury yourself into a hole right then and there. sure you knew it would happen. your parents have been quite open about getting you married, saying its high time you give them a grandchild before they bite the dust. because apparently your elder sister and brother wouldnt. your brother is too focused with his multimillionaire company while your sister claims her job as a lawyer is much too demanding to spare time for marriage of all things. so now the pressure of marriage is upon you. but him? bakugo of all people? why?

you and bakugo both eye each other at your mother's words. surely...she cant be..?

''we think you two should get married. you two are a good match for each other.''

and all hell breaks loose. thats the sentence you were anticipating. bakugo is the first to express his disapproval.

''hell no! old hag are ya outta your mind?'' he shouts.

''you have to get married eventually. isnt it better to marry someone who your familiar with rather then a stranger? maybe there would have been more options open if only you didnt chase off girls by the mere sight of you, boy!'' his mother voiced. the volume of her words matching her voice.

bakugo grumbles at his mother's words, shooting her a glare.

you wanna escape. of course you do. because hell no were you gonna marry bakugo katsuki. no offense but that guy is NOT capable of being a good husband. you'd rather marry a beggar on the street then him. but its not like you can say that outright with several eyes on you.

''....abba, mami, is this...necessary?'' you gave both your parents an uncertain look. definitely trying to some how talk them out of this conversation and just go home. you cant bear to sit here and listen to this any longer.

''well...its already settled.''

you frown.

''what?''

''its settled. its not like you two would ever get married on your own record to begin with. so...your father and i as well as katsuki's parents decided that we set it up before you to can back out.''

what was to come now in your future married life?

(just a little thought lmfao lemme know if yall want me to write it <3)

[trekmupf]

Trapped in a Car With Someone You Don’t Want to Be Trapped in a Car With

Pro

Kirk being torn between his "duties" in the military structure of Starfleet and the duty to his crew / his friends

McCoy waking up and immediately doctoring

The way McCoy sits in the chair; Once again I'm stating the obvious: McCoy is very beautiful in this episode and his winged eyeliner is everything

We're getting to know Spock better: his problems connecting with the human crew and understanding them (something he learns later on, which is great character development), a new side to his logic, the fact that he's not driven by power (getting command)

Also the fact that the McCoy / Spock dynamic this early on the show is different from later on: the disagreements are less friendly banter and more actual fights, McCoy doesn't know Spock that well (thinking he's interested in power / command is wrong) and they don't work together as well, which is a great way to mark their development in later episodes

there's also a clear separation between Spock and the others, Spock's alone and doesn't have someone to confide in; later on Spock and McCoy are a duo

especially the scene where they're fighting over the funeral service highlights why McCoy, Spock and Kirk work best together and what can happen when one of them isn't around to balance them out

Spock is genuinely so irritated by his logic not working, he's so visibly annoyed several times

"Strange. Step by step I have made the the correct and logical decisions, and yet two men have died"

Spock's failures as a commander also highlights what makes Kirk such a great captain, as he manages to use logic and command while also balancing the human and empathetic side of it

Spock learning so much and growing during this, technically a great leader but he learns his own limits

Scotty best repair boy, the way he crouches and crawls into spaces to repair the shuttle and then engineer magic!

Also Scotty's attitude in the face of death is so great and telling about him. He realizes first what's going to happen and accepts it calmly, smiles and compliments Spock, having an air of comfort and peace around him

@ Kirk and McCoy in the last scene, how close do you guys need to be to have a conversation?

Kirk pointing out that Spock's action was based on hope and was therefore human and Spock trying to explain it away as a non emotional and therefore Vulcan action and the others just like him so much while he does so; it's not mean spirited but just lovely and such a great contrast to the tension earlier in the episode

So many of the shots inside the shuttle are accidently funny due to the camera angles they had use because of the tight space

Direct and straightforward episode set up: We have limited time (medicine needs to be brought to another planet) and the shuttle with two of our main characters gets lost in a phenomenon

Kirks desperation rising during his scenes the longer his crew is lost

great tension by the double plot: the immediate threat on the planet and the time pressure on the ship

I absolutely prefer the original special effects over the CGI remake. Look at how good the shuttle craft looks in comparison – taken from this youtube video which I recommend

Con

even for Trek the monsters are sort of shit

very minor but I'm annoyed at the uniform inconsistency, its yellow shirts not red shirt dying, the travesty

I know the commissioner is there to remind us of the time frame but his constant repeating starts to be annoying. I'm Kirk, just done with this guy (even though yes, he's right)

everyone but the yellow shirts who die have shit to do and opinions to have except the women who is just scared and doesn't wanna die

Counter: none

Quote "Did I? I may have been mistaken" - Spock "Well, at least I lived long enough to hear that" - McCoy

Moment: When the group sits in the doomed transporter together, knowing they're about to die but they seem collected

Free Bones because you can see his great make up in this one

Summary: Not quite bottle episode (even though it feels like it) that focusses on Spock and his struggles as a (half-) vulcan working with humans and his disconnect with them using a gripping and tense narrative; Over the course of the episode Spock learns a lot about humans, his connection to them and himself and he and his companions gather more respect for each other Previous Episode - Next Episode - All TOS Reviews

[lvngd8adgrl]

Angel's Trumpets

TW: Abortion, Miscarriage

“All Houston Methodist hospitals follow all state laws, including the abortion law in place in Texas.”

My sister has been sneaking out a lot.

She comes home late.

Leaves the window screen

in her bedroom

cracked open.

Daddy keeps a gun by the door.

Small white house,

bedroom on the first floor.

Acre of land,

no one around.

Quiet.

Crickets chirping.

Jasper,

Texas.

Grass tickles her knees,

as she runs to the road.

She met a guy at church.

Real handsome.

Curly brown hair,

deep brown eyes,

long eyelashes.

Tall,

strong,

older than her.

Church every Sunday,

he started to notice her.

He sits in the pew behind her,

offers to drive her to Bible study.

Hangs around more

and more.

It's obvious,

but she won't say it.

Sticky summer evenings,

long drives

down winding dirt roads.

Roll down the window,

listen to the wind

ruffle old tress.

Bring her to the river,

watch her swim under moonlight

in a sheer white dress.

Wet fabric

clings to her body.

Lovers always make their way

to each other.

It was an accident.

Back of his old Volvo.

Deep desire

slips its hand

underneath.

She's heard about this kind of thing.

It doesn't seem so scary now.

It was an accident when life was made,

and an accident when it was taken.

Hear her crying in the bathroom

most nights.

Tonight,

peering through the crack

there is blood.

Flower petals swept up in the wind,

birds flying too close to the stars.

Young girl turns up at a hospital

and the doctors won't do anything.

"It goes against my morals,

to save your life."

Sterile,

cold room.

Last place she sees.

“All Houston Methodist hospitals follow all state laws, including the abortion law in place in Texas.”

Seventeen,

too close

to what it is not

your law.

Bury her under dirt.

Deny her what she needs,

but her body does not leave this earth.

Her flesh feeds women

who eat worms.

[fungusgnat444]

Vampire König headcanons

Just a few hcs for y��all xo. The first part of the series should be done relatively soon so I thought I’d post this to keep you guys hungry lolWarnings: hes a vampire so minor mentions of blood. Nothing super intense tho. Reader is a medic/doctor so medical stuff I guess, könig being delusional and mildly creepy. I think that's it enjoy. Also almost forgot fem reader

-extremely standoffish at first. To the point where you think he probably hates you. In reality he’s obsessed; he just has no idea how to talk to women (it’s been several hundred years since he's had to “court” so he tries his best to keep you at arms length. This doesn’t work very well of course)

-before he turned his family were all poor farmers so he could never have sweet treats as a kid since suger was pretty much only for the rich at the time. So now he has a massive sweet tooth and is regularly gorging himself on sweets.

-in the 1400’s he took the alias Matthias Grunewald, moved to germany and became a painter (Matthias grunewald was a real artist. My history nerd brain couldn’t help throwing that in there. One of my favourite artists tbh)

-since you’re new to Austria he offers to teach you German just to have an excuse to talk to you but he's delusional enough to convince himself it’s to help you. Of course the first thing he teaches you is how to say König correctly. It’s just so annoying to hear you mispronounce it of course… no other reason. 

-refuses to take his mask off when you have to examine him so you have to roll it up just above his top lip. Extremely insecure about his appearance but his face in particular because of all the scars. Plus he has a cleft lip scar that he used to get bullied for.

-he has basically no friends apart from Horangi so he spends most of his time alone painting and watching old German films. His favourite is The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (its really good y’all should totally watch it btw)

-secretly collects little items you leave around the place even though he feels like a massive creep because of it. It started with a bobby pin he saw lying on your desk that he snatched while you weren’t paying attention. Now he has a whole drawer in his bedside table full of little trinkets; his favourite is a lip gloss that you had dropped one day (secretly wears it under his mask so he can feel like he’s tasting you throughout the day because he so desperately wants to kiss your pretty lips :( )

-once he opens up just a little more and you start to become friends, he slowly starts returning the items he stole because he feels too guilty. Hides them in semi-obvious places to make you think you had just misplaced them (can’t bring himself to part with  the lipgloss though)

-avoids touching you at all costs. Feels like he's having a heart attack whenever you have to examine his teeth; feeling your soft little gloved fingers brush against his lips, trying your best to be so gentle with him. Likes that you’re always so nice to him; complimenting his gum health and being so soft and praising him when you have to take venom samples from his fangs, patting his shoulder when it's down to soothe him when you’re done. In reality you’re just trying your best to make you’re patient comfortable but he savours every moment. Gets so flustered every time you compliment him, even if its something generic and medically (he starts to floss several times a day after you casually mention that he has good gums)

-hates that he can always smell you even when you wear scent blockers, its so distracting. He can always smell you approaching before he sees you, making him panic and overthink at the thought of having to interact with you.

-pretty much exclusively drinks your blood type once he finds out what it is and gets all grumpy whenever the base’s blood dispensary runs out of it. Tries his best to fast until they’re restocked. He avoids you when he’s fasting because you smell so delicious. The fact that you’re completely oblivious and still hang around him only frustrates him more.

Hehe hope you degenerates like this. First part of the series should be out soon xo

[girlmemesalot]

The Ambiguous State Of Tevyat

Tevyat has its own laws in a lot many contexts, but do you ever wonder, does sexism and homophobia exist in the world of tevyat and so correlating to the world of Genshin Impact? Let me know your views.

I read about that confirmation from Arcane’s creators that homophobia and sexism does not simply exist in the universe of Arcane– and I think this is one of the reasons why the representation and the character writing (women’s especially) shines in arcane. There has already been enough praise about Arcane’s writing so I won’t get into it here.

But that made me think that Is that not the perfect setting to write endearing characters in? It eliminates a much more complicated aspect and leaves you with people as an empty blank slate– whose grievances will be based on class struggle, capitalism etc– sure. But it lets everyone be just… everyone. If that makes sense. Why I also relate to that method of storytelling is because (I promise it's about genshin, wait for it) I do end up writing my stories that way– at least a lot of my characters, who have mostly deconstructed most of their ingrained prejudices by the time the story starts, so I can focus on their struggle as related to the story then.

It also got me thinking about Genshin.

SEXISM in the world of Tevyat…

Does not exist. I believe and concur so. Gender-specific crimes have been implied (see Lynette’s story), but in the entirety of its socio political landscape, sexism does not exist in tevyat.

In a world where women harness powers greater than men a lot of times, rule nations and none bats an eye. Soldiers exist as soldiers, knights exist as knights– not women, not men. (My egalitarian perspective’s start to ideal world, really)

I think sexism not existing in the world of Genshin is just very obvious, by the nature of it being an anime-stylised gacha game as well.

HOMOPHOBIA in the world of Tevyat…

Is harder to discuss because even if homophobia does not exist in tevyat, it sure does exist in China. A lot.

But despite that fact, let’s discuss it. HYV has always massively queer-coded their games (go argue with the wall, this is an obvious fact). Even in the face of strict censorship laws, they haven’t really been afraid to confirm (gay) relationships in some other games (see Bronya-Seele from HI3 and Kiana-Mei from HI3). Genshin taps a wider audience thus shies away from direct mentions. But the amount of queer coding? It’s there. Even if you are not a shipper.

I think I would like to mention one of the more highly-implied stances of queer relationship–

See Yoimiya’s story quest 1. The two guy ‘best friends’ who we help make up and their yearning to watch the fireworks together.

Of course, this is all very ambiguous. But with so many characters being into the traveller (despite the gender dynamics) and despite which twin you chose–

For example, Shenhe’s implication that Xiao must have found someone special in a voiceline exists even if you chose Aether or Lumine. It makes me think and believe that homophobia also does not exist.

No wonder I love the game so much.

This might all be very obvious to some people here and I might just be over-explaining it, but this assumption of Tevyat being exempt from sexism and homophobia was only a subconscious one for me until recent times and I just wanted to hear everyone’s thoughts on it as well.

[rainesol]

TWST Main Cast Pride Headcanons!!!

Compiling all of my personal twst gender/sexuality headcanons into one post 💪

Disclaimer: I won’t bother with a DNI, however I won’t indulge any discourse or homo/trans/aphobia on this post. You will be blocked and promptly clowned on in the group chat. o7

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

Riddle is an interesting character to me. I don’t think he’s the type to put a label onto his sexuality, but I headcanon bi with a female preference. Gender identity wise, I think within the current storyline he is satisfied with he/him pronouns. Best way to put it into words is that I think he’s nonbinary and uses he/him, but doesn’t have a label for that either. After finding out the custom, he always introduces himself and gives his pronouns.

I choose to interpret his line about enjoying the way his heels click as gender euphoria that just went unrecognised. At the time that I’m writing this, the Lost In The Book event isn’t out on en, but through this translation, you can see that any problems he had with the outfit came from the amount of skin shown rather than the actual presentation. I wholeheartedly believe that if he had been magical-girled into a sundress he’d have been totally cool with it.

As an extra note, I’ve seen a couple of transfem Riddle headcanons that I love. I’d love to see more fics with that concept in the fandom. Or I could do it myself lol.

Ace Trappola:

We know that Ace has canonically had a girlfriend in the past, and found her boring. Not nice. He also says that he decided that dating was a pain and he prefers just hanging out with his friends. I get it. I’m aroace and I’ve confessed that I’m biased and projecting 😔 But like. Come on. I’m choosing to interpret him as aromantic/arospec. Let me cling on to the representation that I made up in my head. I don’t have any specific gender headcanons on this guy. I just view him as cis. He/him.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce is another guy I don’t have much for </3 I usually view him as a gay man in my head? He/him pronouns, cisgender. I think he’s surprisingly more open to gender non-conformity than people expect of him, though. (For instance, the ballet lessons.)

Cater Diamond:

It’s canon in the jp server that Cater has interest in dating both men and women. I’m with everyone else in viewing him as canon bisexual. I headcanon him as having a male preference, but sometimes that changes.

It’s obvious what I’ll say about his gender, but for sure under the nonbinary umbrella. We all saw the guitar strap. Maybe demiboy? He/they. Cater is very online, and considering that the nonbinary flag is ten years old, he or his elder sisters might remember its creation.

Anyways, here’s the nonbinary flag colour picked from his club groovy, and the bisexual flag picked from his Halloween groovy! :D

Trey Clover:

Trey is typically a cis dude in my head. (He/him) He's the supportive older brother type, so I imagine that he keeps the Heartslabyul public bathrooms stocked on pads. I don't know how helpful he would be with advice, but he'll hear you out or refer you to the guidance councillor if that's what you want o7 I don't think the NRC guidance councillors are much help though. Maybe just speak to your homeroom teacher.

I hc that Trey likes men and women with no preference, but just isn't very vocal about it. It'll come up in casual conversation, but I don't think he'd see the point in telling someone unless it was relevant. You'd be having a casual convo with him in the common room, and he might make a reference to a guy he had a crush on in secondary school. Cue SnapCube 'Woah, he's bisexual, I didn't know that!'

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

I've seen so many 'token cishet' Leona headcanons that I cant help but to absorb it a little. I do have another headcanon that he experiences some same-sex attraction, but he's got such high standards that he rarely notices any attraction at all. He/him. Maybe poly cause lions?

Jack Howl:

MLM demisexual/romantic truther. (He/him or he/they) I don't have many headcanons for the Savanaclaw trio <//3 if you see/make any please feel free to tag me!! I love reading I love information I love headcanons‼️

Ruggie Bucchi:

Either transmasc or the personification of the 'I'm probably nonbinary but I have a job so idrc about that rn'. I usually picture him with He/him or he/they. Perhaps a rare they/them if you so desire.

Pansexual, his only preference is hard workers on their grind 💪 Between you both you could create an empire of part-time jobs. I've also seen one or two poly headcanons with him that I enjoy. Dividing the bills between the whole polycule lads come on. We're eating good this week.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

I cannot lie, I don't have anything on this guy. There's nothing to be said yk. Like, he's just there in my head and there's not much else I can add. I tend to agree with the MLM headcanons. I also picture him as demisexual/romantic sometimes. Not always. He's the best in the school at remembering pronouns. He updates his secret file on you right away.

Gender wise, I always just enjoy whatever the fanartist/fic writer shows me. I default to he/him. Ursula was based on a drag queen! I think that there should be post-canon/book 3 Azul drag personas. Now I'm picturing a drag design. She/her/he/him for that.

Floyd Leech:

Asexual and panromantic. I think Floyd uses any pronouns, depending on his mood. I headcanon genderfluid, but he typically keeps near the masc end of the spectrum. Not always. The basketball club made colour-coordinated bracelets so that they can easily tell whenever Floyd's preferences have changed. Blue for he/him, pink for she/her, yellow for they/them. Open for combinations of those three, and no bracelets for when he has no preference :D

Jade Leech:

Asexual and gay. I headcanon that he always introduces himself with he/him pronouns, but at the same time I picture him being cool with any pronouns. In classic Jade fashion, he will be generally unnerving about your choice. Like 'Oh? Is that your choice? ...Fascinating :)'

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim:

I don't have many headcanons on him specifically, but he'll totally pay for your HRT. Like Trey, he and Jamil keep Scarabia stocked with menstrual products. Kalim has a LOT of siblings, so he's seen a lot of different kinds of people :D He's got a ton of older brother advice. I see him with he/him pronouns, and MLM.

Kalim is a very supportive friend. Always excited to learn new things about his you. Also, those parades he throws? I bet he's (Jamil's) organised an NRC pride event. If I had the skills and patience, I'd draw that idea. If anybody does, tag me o7 I wanna see.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is a very well prepared man. As I mentioned above, he's the one that puts Kalim's plans into action. He keeps Scarabia stocked on everything, he's technically still an older brother, but I don't see him as having that dynamic with anyone other than his sister. He's still a supportive friend, though :D

I headcanon Jamil as bi, usually with he/him pronouns.

I once had a transfem au Jamil idea way back when I was 17, but I haven't given it much thought since. Maybe I'll bring the au back someday?

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil has A LOT of headcanons, theories and interpretations in the fandom. Vil is canonically a very gender nonconforming character, using typically gender neutral pronouns, being comfortable in his gender identity and presentation, and is very open to wider interpretations of gender outside of what is stereotypically considered 'masculine' or 'feminine'.

Surprisingly, I've got no proper headcanons on a set gender identity for him. There's already so much canon info within the series, that I just haven't given it much thought. I think he defaults to he/him pronouns, but is perfectly comfortable with anything. Keeps Pomefiore stocked and educated, and he's very well taught in makeup that can make you appear feminine OR masculine.

Similarly, I don't really have any label-specific headcanons for his sexuality. I normally interpret him as MLM. Vil is one of the characters that I'm always interested to see discussions about. His views on gender identity are pretty refreshing to see in modern media.

Epel Felmier:

Epel my friend! Another character that I like reading interpretations of. Again, I always give him he/him pronouns. He also had a lot of canon information on his views of gender norms. His character arc is honestly one of my favourites.

I typically picture that he’s attracted to multiple genders. I’ve seen a lot of interpretations where he mistakes his attraction for jealousy. A lot of “do I want to date him or be him?”

Another au/headcanon I’ve seen a lot of is transmasc Epel. I know a lot of transmasc people see themselves in him. That’s awesome.

Rook Hunt:

This guy! I see him as pansexual but also on the aromantic spectrum. Hear me out. In his suitor suit he has one (1) singular line about not being ready for marriage yet. Like obviously, he’s eighteen, but it just made the projecting side of my brain whir. I now see him as the type to like the idea of romance, just not for himself. Doesn’t mean that I don’t like seeing art/ships that go against this, but that is a hc I hold dear now.

He/him pronouns, but this guy loves to discuss peoples gender identity and interpretations of gender. Sit down with him and a cup of tea, and he’ll listen and talk for hours about how you both feel. Be warned that he may take notes. Mirror pronouns Rook? Oh wait. I like that. Mirror. Like Snow White.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

I typically see Idia as aroace with either little or no attraction. I like the headcanon that he doesn’t date at all, but I’ve also seen enough Silver x Idia to have another set of headcanons. I like both :D I’ve never seen him as not aroace though.

I do kind of wish I had his Suitor Suit sometimes. Every other line is something I’ve definitely said before. Like, the only time he shows any interest in dating is through video games and manga with characters that aren’t him. That’s so me irl you guys don’t understand. I would die happy if twst had canon aro/ace rep.

I think Idia’s the type to only use different pronouns online. Maybe with Ortho, too. He/they online and with close family. Everyone else knows him as he/him. I said that Cater might remember the nonbinary flag’s creation. Idia does. He was on twst tumblr to witness the creation of many flags.

Here's the aroace flag picked from the Suitor Suit card! :D Very pretty.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho is downright fascinating to pick apart. Pre book 6, I doubt Idia programmed a sexuality into him. Like it would even be possible. Then post book 6, after he gains a soul/sentience, I think he and Idia would have had a talk about him now having the choice to one day explore his gender identity and orientation (if he so desires). I think Ortho wouldn’t have any interest in dating, though.

Confessional time. Before wiring this I had the random thought of “In second year Ortho downloads she/they.zip and gets a new body made”. I never meant to pay much kind to it but now I can’t let it go. Like I’ve been accidentally referring to Ortho as she in front of friends. I have a future design in mind. I have additional headcanons about this design. It’s completely taken over. If I ever post that redesign is beyond me but it’s there in my head and it won’t leave. Fem!Ortho future au. Idk if anyone would hear me out there.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

Another character I enjoy multiple interpretations of. One interpretation I have of him is cupiosexual/romantic. The other is demisexual/panromantic. Either way, the concept of a qpr would make him so excited that it doesn’t rain for days on Sage’s Island. The grass withered.

Malleus is old. Not mentally, but chronologically. He’s seen language change a couple of times, and he grew up with people even older than him. He was born in the mid 1800s equivalent. Thon is one letter off of thorn. See where I’m headed? The use of thon/thons was first recorded in the 1850’s. Gender neutrality is not a new concept to him.

If you asked for his pronouns, I feel like he wouldn’t immediately understand. Like, he calls himself I. Me. Sometimes if he’s with someone we. Did you want all of those too? Oh, just the ones you call him./j

Anyways twisted wokeland au where Malleus allows Yuu to make up a name and set of pronouns for him because he refused to introduce himself/j

Silver:

Another guy I never considered. Mayybe also on the aroace spectrum? I think he’d be happy in a qpr. I think he’s not the type to question it. He just goes with whatever he feels. I’ve not got much lol.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Demisexual/romantic and he/him pronouns. Again, I’ve not thought much on him. I think it takes him a long, long journey of self-discovery though.

Lilia Vanrouge:

Again, Lilia was born a LONG time ago. He was born in the early to mid 1300s equivalent. He’s seen so much change since then, and he’s been through a lot of character arcs. I think I’m justified in headcanoning him as an unlabelled king. If he likes a girl, awesome. He likes a guy? Cool. I think it’s common to hear him refer to himself in a dead language. Baby girl, he has heard pronouns you could not comprehend.

If you ask his gender or sexuality, you’ll get some vague dad gestures, and a ‘you know what I mean’ nod. You don’t. You won’t.

Book 7 spoilers, but I hope that they keep the mlm implications in for the en translations. They’ll probably pull a Cater and write out the canon bi implications though. Heartbroken.

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Thank you for reading to the end of my ramblings o7 If anyone else makes pride themed posts please feel free to tag me!! I would love to see them!

I really like the subtle ways these things are portrayed in the story. Especially within the world building. We know that is generally societally acceptable for men to wear makeup and dresses in TWST, and there’s canon development of language changing over time in a gender neutral way! (Witches and wizards -> mages. Suck on that, Rowling.)

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@tixdixl @cyanide-latte @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @elenauaurs

@emiensr

[mortal-kombat-1]

Is it that bad?

Oh buddy, it's that bad yes, lol. You got one dude who refers to himself as an actual robot who admitted to liking AI women (he talks to an AI chat bot daily) over real women because women won't have anything to do with him, which no shit considering the way he's afraid of 'em and has his mother bring food to his lazy ass 💀 Also, downright homophobic and only likes *gay folks* if they make him laugh. An actual thing he said to me... (some of us have the screenies of this ofc).

Another grown man who publicly admitted going through age groups starting with teens (he's 40 mind you) because his (and I quote) wife won't have anything to do with him.

Most guys in the modding group can't handle being told no. Being told we have a mental illness because we're not straight or because we refuse to give these dudes attention when they try. I've blocked a few because of said reason, then ofc we get told we're too old to even enjoy the thing we grew up with --- I'm 38, which ofc isn't old, lmao (has happened to a few of us gals in there.) And God, if they find out you have kids suddenly you're a terrible person for having a hobby (my kids are grown, but I still get pissed seeing others having to see/hear that when it's said towards them).

I hate saying this, because this sentence shouldn't even exist: but the amount of cis gay men who joined the fandom (and hide behind their lewd mods) to bash women or trans folks in the MK community is sad to fucking see, ngl.

You got the bunch who's obvious racist or scared of any person of color making mods to conform to white standards. Basically using the old excuse "but I have a black friend" to try to justify it when its called out.

Let's not forget they're still crying tears because they ain't showing some pixelated titty in a fighting game... so cue more horrible things said about anyone who isn't straight or white.

They're always going on about any gay ship they may run across -- instead of blocking it, they seek it out ofc and scream about it.

Like, I have zero fucking respect for these idiots nor do I care about their feelings.

There is so much going on in the modding community as a whole (not just MK) that would take me a good bit to type out, but really, just be weary of who you interact with in it. That's pretty much all I can say. There are some good modders out there still, and as I said it's sad seeing an active/fun community go to shit because these fucks are ruining it for others.