#you get to live. you get to have a normal trainer life.

[sexysilverstrider]

listen to my fake mainline pokemon plot idea boy

a new region and youre the typical protag ready to get your first pokemon. its nothing out of the ordinary. every kid gets their first pokemon from the regions professor.

your rival is your childhood friend. hes the typical happy outgoing type who always has your back. think haus positive friendly energy with juns comedic antics. he always calls you by a nickname only you both know since you were kids. you two grew up together so it makes sense youre both getting your first pokemon together.

its nothing out of the ordinary. youre the protag and hes the rival whos always one step behind you.

then theres the regions champion.

hes the mysterious enigma who suddenly appeared and overthrew the elite four and previous champion years ago. hes so strong and so mysterious that people rarely see him or know what he looks like. what people Do know is that hes insanely strong and hes waiting for the one trainer who will defeat him one day. only the elite four and professor know him but even then he rarely shows himself

you then proceed with your normal pokemon journey. in time, you meet a mysterious man. hes quiet and kind but you sense that hes a powerful trainer all around. hes the typical adult character who cheers you on and helps you with your journey. it starts off small at first like healing your team and giving potions. but you, the protag, soon realizes his presence starts getting more and more plot relevant like giving items to get rid of plot roadblocks or giving tips in stopping the regions evil team

the man soon reveals that hes the mysterious hidden champion

hes so kind and so powerful. hes always there to help you or give you words of encouragement. you figured hes the typical supportive champion like previous games.

then theres a scene where the man meets your rival. your cheerful rambunctious rival who doesnt mind losing against you. whos always one step behind you. you get a shock of a lifetime to see the man acting disdainful towards him. the man chastises your rivals actions, saying he will always be weak if he continues to rely on you. you, the protag and player, understandably get angry and your rival gets irritated as well.

but your rival shakes it off. hes hurt but he shakes it off. screw what the guy said. hes here to enjoy life and have fun with his pokemon journey with you, his best friend after all.

but then the climax of the story happens. the evil teams leader resurrected the box legendary. it creates havoc as the legendarys power is the power of desire--no matter good or bad.

youre the protag. of course youre in charge of stopping the evil villain.

but suddenly, you, the player realize youre set to always lose. no matter what team you have. what strategy you use. what you do. the game sets to you, the protag, losing

this sets a cutscene of the evil leader using the legendary against you. the leader wants to annihilate anyone who stops him. the leaders desire was to gain strength--even if it means killing you

before you could get killed, you heard someone calling you by your childhood nickname

your childhood friend/rival didnt call out to you

the mysterious champion did

he stops the incident before you could get killed. he butts in before the legendary pokemon could get to you.

he got himself almost killed

it is then that you soon realize the plot twist of the game: the mysterious champion is your rival who had travelled back into the past and grew up

he travelled back. a few years too back after losing you, his best friend and dear rival, forever to the legendary pokemon

you learn that the 'other' rival was too late in his time to save the 'other' you. since then, he blames himself and has a deep hatred for himself and his weakness.

his desire to be strong. to save you. to protect you. it was more than enough to entice the legendary pokemon again to grant his selfish wish. he was transported back in time but in a time where you were still a toddler.

he was broken. but he knew he had to be strong in order to protect you

so he trained and trained until he became champion of the region. he knows being champion will allow him the sources to go against the evil organization. he knows being strongest will allow him to be the one to face against the legendary and save you

thats why he hates your rival--his younger, foolish self. he hates how carefree he is. he hates how he always stays in your shadow. because of his weakness, he lost his dear friend

the champion is your rival all along. broken. desperate. he did all of it. everything. just to make sure youre alive in this timeline.

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[songmingisthighs]

Missing Out

group : ateez

pairing : dilf!mingi × reader

genre : smut

wc : 4.1 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut; daddy kink, teasing, dirty talk, age gap (mingi's like mayhaps at least a decade older, but both are still within legal limits), thigh riding, spitting, alcohol consumption (not to the point of being drunk, it's just for vibes and... spitting lmao),

a/n : frfr i hope he doesn't see this fic because God i would not be able to defend myself. tbh i planned on posting this on mingi's bitthday but i got shit happening to me. shit without my consent and I'm just trying to ride the stress like gandalf hopped up on cocaine riding smaug. so ykw i decided to post this on my birthday instead lmao. special thanks to @kitten4sannie for listening to me drop some ideas while i was on a road trip, i did some adjustments but it's still sexually frustrated dilf!mingi this fic is finally out so i hope you and everyone enjoy it <3

a/n/n : i take no responsibilities for any calf cramp that may or may not happen but alyssa, i still blame you for the great leg cramp at ass o'clock

a/n/n/n : my birthday sucks because it felt more like public service than anything but i got ticket to go to singapore again so i'll be reunited with my little brother and little sisters soon✌️ i'm raising money for my mental wellbeing which is so totally code for i'm trying to find a way to make my shituation better by making myself just the slightest bit happier after today's shenanadoodles

buy me coffee ?

After the day Mingi had, the cold drink in his hand felt like the reward he deserved. It was only then that Mingi realized why people always say that the Family Court is rough. Still, of course, it was extra rough for him because his ex-wife, the horned creature incarnate (a goat, not the devil), had dragged his name through the mud just to get the maximum alimony because she was a narcissistic bum with no life skill to fall back to as if Mingi was the one who told her to quit her job as a dental hygienist when they first got married.

During the mediation meetings and court proceedings, she took all of the potshots she could While no one took her seriously, it still pained Mingi because the more she and her lawyer attacked him, calling out all of his insecurities and questioning his character, the more obvious it was that Mingi had wasted 9 years of his life on this loser and he missed out on all of the marital milestones. The main sore spot was having kids. She argued that putting her body through pregnancy was out of the question because there were risks that could cause her body to look weird in the future and it's inhumane how a woman's body had to contort in such a way to accommodate another living being. But when her breast implant popped when she slammed the car door too hard, it was 'a normal occurrence'.

As much as his friend Yunho told him not to, Mingi couldn't help but wallow in the time he absolutely WASTED on the bitch only to be screwed over. The only good thing that came out of the divorce was the fact that he got out of it without having to pay alimony because his ex-wife had become too cocky with her cards. But still, Mingi had to give her the car, the savings account (that wasn't much compared to anything considering she had drained it to accommodate her filler addiction and alcohol dependency), and Tony Son, their personal trainer, the one thing Mingi could credit her because she had been the one who introduced him to the man who was able to sculpt his body to perfection.

"Is this seat taken?"

Mingi snapped his head to the side to see a woman younger than he, dressed in a tight-bodiced red sparkly dress that showed just enough cleavage for it to be classy rather than trashy and the A-line satin skirt stopped just three fingers width atop her knees. Slowly, Mingi nodded and gestured to the seat on his right side wordlessly. It wasn't until the woman flagged down the bartender and ordered her drink did Mingi questioned why she sat next to him when there were other seats in the bar.

"So, are you alone?" she asked, striking up a conversation with Mingi which honestly caught him by surprise because he had been told that he had a resting bitch face that doubled in intensity when he wasn't in the mood and he was doubling in his bad mood. "Yeah... I am, so..." his words allude to him wanting to be alone, but there was something about the person next to him that intrigued him so much so that his eyes seemed to be glued to her. Just the sight of her drinking her vodka cranberry made Mingi's eyes travel from her face down to her lap, watching the way she moved so gracefully. "So... You don't mind my asking why a man as handsome as you are would be sitting alone with a scowl on his face," she pointed out, forcing Mingi to consciously unfurrow his eyebrows and fake taking a sip of his drink, "I'm not scowling, I'm just tired and pissed off for wasting 9 years on a selfish bitch that deprived me of anything I want in life," he spat venomously, even the slight mention of his ex sent a really unpleasant taste in his mouth. "I'm so sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?" She pouted, inching closer to Mingi as somewhat of a signal. Noticing this, Mingi scoffed and shook his head but he still entertained the woman, "Got a time machine to help me undo the past 9 years?" "No, but maybe I can give you what your ex couldn't."

You couldn't help but bite your bottom lip when the look of shock on Mingi's face melted into intrigue. You had been watching him for an hour, sitting all alone, nursing his one drink as he toyed with his ring before chucking it into his breast pocket. Thank God he did because you were not about to approach a potentially spoken-for man. It took you a while to get substantial evidence of his status and it wasn't just because you were distracted by his plump ass in those slacks and the matching suit jacket and slightly unbuttoned black dress shirt didn't help your case.

"Little girl, I think I'm a bit too... Far for your reach," Mingi pointed out, raising an eyebrow at you as he wasn't sure that you knew what you were offering him. Mirroring him, you raised your eyebrow and shifted so that you faced him fully as you raised one leg and cross it over the other, successfully inviting Mingi to get a glimpse of more skin. "You don't know me or what I can do, sir," you smirked challengingly, now openly inviting him to poke you further.

You were delighted when you saw Mingi's jaw clench and throat bob after you called him sir. It was proof to you that Mingi had some sort of inclination of being in control and his little confession about not getting what he wanted from his ex-wife might be a glimpse of the kind of fun you could get from him. So without hesitation, you decided that you were going home with him.

Surprisingly, Mingi responded positively by leaning in to cup your chin and pull you close, just a wispy breath away from having your lips meet and you so desperately wanted to taste his because they just looked so damn juicy and plump. "You don't want to know all the things I've been deprived of... Baby." Your eyes darken and your legs crossed tighter to suppress the sudden arousal washing over your core, excited at the confirmation that Mingi was playing into your games just as you had wanted. All you needed to do was lock this down. So you let your hand lay on his thigh, squeezing it suggestively and enjoying the feeling of his muscle tensing underneath you each time your hand slid closer to his crotch to the point that your nail was scratching the inner side of his thigh just right. Despite being physically affected by you, Mingi still maintained eye-contact, daring you to poke his button just right.

"Yes, I do... Daddy."

In the blink of an eye, Mingi smashed his lips on you and all of the oxygen was knocked out of your lungs in one go. His lips were soft but the way he used them was rough yet calculated. You could taste the smoky whiskey on his tongue as he slipped it inside your mouth. Little did you know, he too, was enjoying the way you tasted. Your lip gloss had a sweetness to it that made him wonder if you're the type to plan things or if it was just a happy coincidence. He also took note of how you allowed him to lead you and the more he asserted himself onto you with every nibble of his lip and every caress of his tongue, showing that you're more on the submissive side and he likes it. A lot. The more you felt pleasure, the more you pleasured him back as evidenced by your hand rubbing against his raging boner.

Mingi smirked at the way you whimpered when he finally pulled away from you to slap a couple bills on the counter before he got off the stool, pulling you along with him. You wobbled slightly but Mingi immediately pulled you flush on his chest and despite having just made out with him, you found the gesture very hot. "Wanna go see if you can keep up with the list of things I missed out on?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Mingi must be some kind of a business owner because no way he would have had a rather impressive office where you found yourself in. Well, on top of him on his couch, grinding your panty-less core against his thigh with your top down, allowing the older man to ogle at your tits as you tried to make yourself cum.

"Is that the best you can do?" Mingi taunted, circling his crystal glass which produced a tinkling sound from the ice in the drink he poured as soon as you reached his home. "Daddy, I want you to touch me," you whined but your hip was still relentlessly moving after making a big deal of how his thighs were so strong and you wanted to sit on them like a throne. So instead of just sitting, Mingi told you to make yourself useful and prep your pussy without his help and he wanted you to do it by riding his thigh. His thick, glorious thigh. "Don't you want to touch me, daddy?" you teased, cupping your boobs and tweaking your own nipples whilst throwing your head back, making a show out of it just to get Mingi to touch you. Sure, Mingi was intrigued, but he knew damn well that he was holding the reigns and he had to hold himself back from jumping at the opportunity to completely ravish you too soon. "I do, baby, but you're being a brat right now and refusing to listen to me. Had I wanted that, I would've stayed with my ex-wife." Your head snapped back up at the mention of his ex-wife and you glared at his smug smirking face, "You have me half naked on your lap and you still mentioned your ex-wife?" you gathered your skirt in your hand, exposing your cunt to Mingi's eyes and slowed your pace to a prolonged drag that left long, dark stain courtesy of your arousal.

Finding your petulance adorable, Mingi chuckled and pulled you in for a searing kiss with one hand cupping your chin and the other slapping you on the ass as if telling you to speed up your movement. "You're an adorable little doll and I'm gonna break you," he muttered against your lips before you could reply to him, Mingi tugged your hair back as he casually took a sip from his drink. The action made you yelp and Mingi swiftly leaned over and spit the drink into your mouth and clamped your jaw shut. "Swallow," he commanded and as you came down from being surprised, you stared into Mingi's eyes. At first, you only stared at him, feigning defiance just for fun and Mingi found that both intriguing and annoying. His grip moved to tightly grasp your jaw and he growled, "Swallow. It." He demanded in a stern voice that made your panties more damp as your cunt clench, leaving you unable to do anything more than whine and swallow the burning liquid. Mingi found you very mesmerizing even on an act as simple as you taking heed of his words. The stray spit and alcohol that trickled from the corners of your lips enhanced the glimmer of your smudged lipstick and lipgloss combo, turning Mingi on with how effortlessly sultry you looked. He was down and he was down bad. He wasn't even sure if he was down because Once the liquid was no longer there, you rolled out your tongue to proudly show your obedience and Mingi let out a shuddered breath seeing you just blindly following his orders like the good puppet you are.

"Fuck, you're gonna be the death of me."

In a flash, Mingi flipped you both around so that you were trapped underneath him with your head strategically on the armrest. The elevation allowed you to watch as Mingi dragged a hand down your body as if you were a work of art. "All this time... I was missing a lot all this time, that bitch took nine years out of me and gave me nothing," Mingi shuddered both in anger and in arousal. The contrasting thoughts between being so angry at his former partner and the excitement of being rewarded by being able to ravish you felt like waves crashing inside him. It was thrilling. It was exciting. It got his adrenaline pumping and God, he felt alive. "Poor baby," you purred all the while slowly popping the buttons of his dress shirt off to reveal the soft skin underneath, "You're so frustrated, It's a good thing I'm here now huh?"

You swung your leg up and used the tip of your toe to tilt Mingi's chin upwards maintaining a somewhat neutral expression but the twinkle in your eyes indicated clear intrigue. "Tell me all the things you want to do. What do you want most?" the question made Mingi roll his eyes back and he grabbed your leg by your ankle. "You nasty slut, you want to have an older cock so bad you're enticing me with empty promises, huh?" He mumbled against the skin of your leg, trailing his lips down from the heel and lower to your calf as his body followed down until he eventually stopped at the mid-section of your inner thigh. You helped him by flipping your skirt up, exposing your cunt wholly to him and slotting the leg you lifted on his shoulder, "Empty promises? I want to give you whatever you want daddy, and in order for me to be able to do that, I need to know what it is."

Thinking that he had nothing to lose anyway, Mingi smirked and decided to test you. "I want a baby," he stated, "I want to put my baby in you," he said oh so casually as if he hadn't had his fingers poking and prodding your cunt like they just belonged there. Truthfully speaking, Mingi was expecting you to push him off and ran away screaming because what kind of a hookup just casually dropped a bomb as big as he did?

But it seemed like Mingi's luck was turning around for the better because you replied by reaching forward to free his cock from his pants, trying as best as you could to suppress the surprise at Mingi's size (but failing as evidenced by the way your eyes bulged slightly and your tongue peeking out to lick your bottom lip in hunger) before you leaned back and opened your legs widely as an invitation for him. "Then do it, fuck me so hard and dumb and deep that I'd have no other choice but to have your baby," you smiled up at him. Mingi could only stare at you in shock initially, not really knowing what you meant until you whined and pulled him closer using the leg that was hooked on his shoulder. "Daddy, don't make me wait too long. Come on, put a baby in me!" you pleaded, cunt throbbing with eagerness to feel Mingi's cock stretching you now that you already caught a glimpse.

The shock melted away from Mingi's face and even as he was guiding his cock to your core, he was still carefully watching your face, not wanting to waste any twitch or shift in your face from feeling him but also he was trying to be careful in case you showed him any indication of regret or if you changed your mind. But the way you whined and rolled your hips so your wet cunt could meet his cock more gave him the green light.

"You dirty slut," Mingi grunted before he shoved his length inside you in one fluid movement. The accumulating arousal from you riding his thigh provided proper lubrication but his sheer size was not something you're used to so your body tensed up at the impact. "F-fuck, daddy, y-you-" "Am I tearing you apart, baby? Are you being split into two on daddy's fat cock?" he asked in faux worry that was just him being condescending towards you. But you don't care, you found it hot even when he talked down to you as if you were nothing but his plaything. "Yes, yes, daddy, I'm being split open on your cock but I love it! I love it so much!" you moaned, hands clawing at his skin, causing red streaks to appear from the pressure of your nails, "Fuck, I want more!"

With that, Mingi pushed your legs up by your thighs, exposing more of your lower half to him. "Be daddy's good girl and hold these open, I wanna see your pussy taking my cock raw," he hissed, eyes zeroing on the way your puffy lips split open to accommodate his size. Carefully, as if assessing a great piece of art, Mingi watched attentively The view almost brought tears to his eyes but he channeled the somewhat endearing moment into fucking you stupid into the mattress.

Each drag of Mingi's cock felt like fire against your inner walls. Although there was a slight discomfort with each movement, the added pleasure of being filled like you had never before made you addicted.

If you thought you were enjoying yourself, Mingi was very close to combusting and he was trying his best to not cum too soon as he didn't wanna be branded as the geezer who came too early. But he couldn't help it, not with the way both his ego and his cock were stroked. It was as if you were made for him and he felt that the moment he entered your sopping cunt. So Mingi shifted his focus to you instead, working to get you to cum first.

"Come on baby, cum for daddy. I need you to cum first so you'd be ripe and open for me to fill you up," Mingi huffed, pressing his pointy nose against the junction of your neck that sent tingles down your spine, "We need to do our best to make sure that you'd be good and pregnant, right?" The weight of his words caused your head to spin as the thought of him filling you full for his own pleasure filled your mind. "Yes, yes daddy, make me cum please," you whined into his ears, your body reacting almost automatically by rolling your hips against his own to match his speed and desire. Mingi growled hungrily and his pace quickened significantly as the impact got harder. You were sure that after this your ass would be different shades of red and blue but you couldn't care less. Especially if Mingi wanted to do more rounds with you, you'd gladly wear the bruises like a badge of honor.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this, you're so hot when you're willing and submissive for me," Mingi grunted, even verging on whining into your ears because you just felt so good to him but he held firm, "Are you close, baby? Are you cumming soon?" Lucky for him, you nodded hurriedly, confirming that you were close. Your brain had been marinating in the dizzying arousal that it was embarrassingly quick for you to nearly reach your climax in a rather short time. However, your response was deemed lacking to Mingi who wanted to hear a verbal response from you. Mingi was quick to slap you hard on your left tit as a punishment, feeling the need to chastise you for simplifying your response.

The words died on Mingi's tongue and his hips sharply halted to a stop when he saw you yelp and shudder before coming completely undone underneath him, writhing pathetically as your nails grazed his skin, leaving red streaks for Mingi to show off for days on end. His eyes darken when he saw tears pooled in your own eyes before dropping, creating the illusion of your eyes sparkling which served a rather complex combination of innocence and sinful. "M-M- Daddy," you whimpered in almost a hushed tone, barely comprehensible but to Mingi the sound was thunderous in Mingi's ears, ringing, because his baby girl needed him. His baby girl wanted him. His baby girl who's willing to give him anything he could ask for was longing for him. So who is he to deny you?

Seeing you in such a vulnerable state seemed to unlock something primal in Mingi because while you were reeling down from your orgasm, Mingi was instead put into some sort of a trance. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, slightly hoping that he could taste your sweetness in the air, and his hips restarted with a pace so hard and quick, for a moment you forgot that Mingi was a human.

The pleasure from your orgasm tripled with the additional friction continuously given by Mingi whose head was flooded with the thought of truly possibly getting you pregnant from this first time. Not that he was planning on only fucking you once, not after he felt how good you made him feel both emotionally and physically. He was planning to pamper you to death and maybe that was the sexually frustrated side in him but he didn't care, he didn't care how crazy he was because you were the one who made him crazy.

The sound of hips snapping together in a rhythm accompanied by your drunk-like moans sounded like a symphony in Mingi's ears. "F-fuck baby, I'm gonna fill you up now," Mingi grunted, his eyes closing and his forehead dropping to your shoulder, "I'm gonna fill you up with my seed to the brim and you're gonna be a good girl and keep it all in so my baby can grow safely inside of you, okay?" He whispered so intimately against your shoulder that both your lips and cunt wept. You wouldn't be surprised if there was a pool underneath you after you were done and you won't hesitate to ask for more. "Cum, daddy. Cum inside me. Fill me up so hard and full like you promised me!" You whined, your hands snaking around his shoulders to hold tight as the overstimulation caused a tingling pain that made your toes curl while Mingi was getting such a high from his ego being fed.

"Fuck, baby girl, this is it, I'm gonna put my baby in you!" Mingi grunted and thrusted, once, twice, thrice, before his hips stuttered and you felt a gush of warmth spilling deep inside your cunt. The physical feeling of being filled up made your eyes roll into your head and the realization of what just happened made you blush as if you weren't whoring for his cock not 10 minutes ago.

As Mingi slowly came down from his high, his mind cleared up and he was able to pepper kisses from your shoulders, up your neck, along your jawline, and then gently all over your face. The contrast of the sweetness of the older man and the nasty act you both just did made you suddenly turn all giggly and shy. "Aww, come on, are you trying to get away from me?" Mingi smirked, trying to chase another kiss from your lips but you kept dodging him, "That's pretty absurd considering I still have my cock inside of you, plugging you full." Your eyes widened at the vulgarity of his chosen words and you couldn't help but smack him on the shoulder but fail to hold back a giggle, "Don't say it like that!" "Like what? Like the way it is?" Mingi teased, pushing himself up to trail a finger on your stomach which made your breath hitch and your muscle to tense, "I need to make sure you really do get pregnant so you can give me my baby just like I wanted," his voice trailed as his fingers drew patterns on your skin almost lovingly and the nonsensical side of you wanted to believe that he was showing his affection to you. You figured that there was only one way to find out.

Without missing a beat, you took his finger that was tracing your skin into your mouth and start licking around as if it was a lollipop, effectively causing Mingi's attention to shift to your face and his cock to twitch inside you. "Who said we're only gonna try this once, daddy? You're gonna fuck me as much as you like until I'm good and pregnant."

The smirk that bloomed on Mingi's face was devilish and almost menacing, showing his genuine intention to get wamhat he wanted.

"I hope you'd never ask. I'm gonna fuck you all night long and you're gonna be a good girl and take it all with no complaint."

As if you'd say no.

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[elodieunderglass]

Your jockeyposting has enthralled me (certified non-horse girl) and made me curious—how much familiarity do jockeys have with the horses they’re riding? Is it normal for a given horse to have a Long Term Jockey or are the jockeys like. Called up a week before and asked to race a horse they’ve never met? (& interested to hear any Killy lore related to this)

Thank you so much! (In reference to Killie the jockey OC and random posting about horse racing more generally.)

In general, racehorses never have a long-term or even a repeat jockey, and vice-versa! Jockeys usually aren’t familiar with the horses at all.

There are three main situations where they might be, though; if they’re retained, if they’re nepo babies generational and have a trainer in the family, or if they’re amateurs having fun. So with apologies for making a really long post, I’ve structured this as a writing reference.

Retained Jockeys

Killie’s a retained jockey for a stable (very unusual - not many jockeys are good enough, and not many stables have the resource to employ one) and he and Thunder share an especially eccentric owner who likes to watch them paired up.

And hey, if we were unbelievably ultra-rich people with no moral compass, “putting Killie and Thunder in a jar and shaking them together, briskly, to see what happens” would be a fairly legitimate hobby.

I’m not an expert or personally involved in the industry, so if you were thinking of doing some writing in the setting yourself, a starting point for a retained jockey’s life is this “day in the life” video, of champion flat jockey William Buick, TW for discussion of weight.

Generational

Jockeys may handle horses as family businesses. In real life, “racing dynasties” are influential. A very lucky jockey, retiring in middle age with piles of winnings, often wishes to become a trainer; especially prosperous ones buy a stable operation, move in their family, use their reputation and connections to get owners to send them horses, and start chucking their own children on the horses as a source of labour. The children grow up, stick around home, and naturally keep getting chucked on horses for their day job. Next thing you know, you have a lot of grandkids and horses around the place, so you might as well keep going with it. Everyone pretty much lives at Grandad’s stable together, and then you get cousins scuffling on the day job like this:

That’s how Killie grew up, as the result of several generations of jockeys becoming trainers producing jockeys. but moving to a retained post was both a) the only logical move if it’s offered, and b) an escape from his parents, who are astonishingly awful. and if you are that kind of nepo baby, like Killie, it makes so much sense to flee the country (move to the uk and constantly pretend you’ve just dropped your phone in a horse’s water bucket, glubglubglub, BYE MA.)

Press “keep reading” for the amateurs and then what everyone else is doing.

Generational steeplechase jockey Jonjo O’Neill Jr does a day in his life here. he knows the horses and is doing admin, management and stable work … at his family’s massive operation.

Amateurs

Finally, in the UK, you can ride as an amateur jockey - usually in types of lowkey local steeplechases, like “point to point” - and basically anyone can do this. horse racing is fun, but you need a license to do it with other people, and the license remains incompatible with owning a registered racehorse. So technically your best friend could share a horse with you, in all but paperwork, and they could be the trainer and you could be the amateur jockey, and you could wrangle your way into actual races with a horse that you knew. It wouldn’t work very well as a day job (the horse would only race like 2x a month, netting you like £300 a month out of your friend’s pocket, plus the absurd costs of transporting/entering everyone) but if you were writing a crazy story in which some good friends and their pet racehorse decide to make it rich, that’s how you could do it.

Everyone else

Everyone else (including generational jockeys whose grandfathers didn’t have the foresight to establish a proper dynasty) just scrabbles around.

Most races aren’t high-stakes! There are a lot of basic boring races every day. (though, if you ask jockeys, there is apparently never quite enough work.)

horses might live at the stable of their owner but more commonly their trainer (some owners are both).

Jockeys cannot own racehorses themselves.

In the UK racecourses are randomly scattered around the country, usually hours away from each other. They all usually have several races every day.

Jockeys in the UK are paid £157.90 for Flat jockeys and £214.63 for jumps riders per race. They get this flat rate for everyone, whether they’re experienced or not! Their expenses are fairly high, and as freelancers they have to cover them all. The real attraction pay-wise is that they get a “cut of the purse” (percentage of prize money) if they win first, second or third place in a race. It’s a small percentage that they have to share with their agent, but there are sometimes some super-big stakes, where you can earn your year’s wages all at once.

Of course, you need to be piloting a pretty good horse in a high-stakes race to have a shot at that.

jockeys are a rare professional athlete that work every day, and they want (but are never guaranteed to get) a few rides every day. This usually means travelling across the UK constantly every day.

Racehorses usually only race once a week or less. They definitely don’t “work” as often! Their schedules rarely match up to jockeys. Driving them around the place is also a huge pain.

Jockeys live all over, and most of them are known to spend several times more hours driving between jobs than they ever spend sitting on horses. They get up very early each day, often “riding out” (doing early morning horse exercise) for trainers before hitting the road, often driving for several hours between races. This has been flagged in many sports medicine papers as one of their many wellbeing risks.

At any rate, with hundreds of jockeys travelling randomly around the country, getting injured and suspended and with stats fluctuating constantly, trainers work through agents to book jockeys - often not getting the one they want.

There are also considerations like trainer suddenly deciding they want to get a different (better) rider instead, leading to the one they booked getting “jocked off”.

All of everyone’s stats, from horses to jockeys, are publicly available, and everyone can study them obsessively. Trainers will request jockeys who have attractive stats - that’s not just “winning” stats, but weight/strategy/experience that might match the horse (+ terrain + conditions, etc). In their turn, jockeys with better options may turn down an offer of a horse with terrible form (I.e. a big loser, or a dangerous animal, or one that looks incredibly dodgy in race videos.)

Often trainers try to get the same jockey for their horse, but in all this chaos it’s not always possible, and everyone has to constantly pursue their own best interests.

Particularly winning jockeys and particularly influential trainers may gradually come together in working relationships, and as a horse gradually emerges as a favourite and the stakes rise, you’ll start to see it working more often with the same people. For example, in the Grand National, the jockeys will probably know the horses.

In conclusion, it’s common for the first time the jockey touches the horse to be when they’re thrown on top of it, prior to the race.

They get around this by studying form (race statistics), watching videos of the horse, and of course speaking to the trainer about their desires/instructions/strategy.

OKAY that is the MOST information that I could possibly have given!! I don’t know why I know all this!!! Thanks!!

[forsaken-headcanons]

i saw someone else on this account give two time a pokemon team, so i got inspired and now im giving every survivor/killer a partner pokemon

survivors:

Noob- munchlax. munchlax is known for eating things, and all noobs abilities are food based, so i assume they like food. generally i just see noob having a lot of normal types 

Elliot- chansey! chansey give the eggs that they carry to other people/pokemon to heal them, kind of like how elliot gives out pizza. elliot is a nurse joy confirmed

Two Time- the anon that inspired this said they would have a shedinja, and i think that’s fitting. or they’d have a mimikyu, because it fits with the whole “second life” thing with its disguise ability. generally i see two time being a ghost type trainer 

Chance- Meowth. it loves coins, aka MONEYYYY which i imagine as a gambler chance also loves. he’d probably try to get rich using payday.

007n7- Porygon Z! porygon Z is a pokemon essentially made out of corrupt code, which fits with 7n7 being a hacker

Builderman- Machamp. In the anime/games machamp are often shown being construction workers, so i think they fit buildermans vibe.

Shedletsky- Sirfetch’d. It’s a bird with a sword, and i see a lot of people make shedletsky some sort of bird creature. ignore how it’s a duck and not a chicken tho

Dusekkar- Gardevoir. I definitely see him being a psychic type trainer, and gardevoir are known for using their powers to protect people, similar to Dueskkar

Guest1337- Arcanine. In the anime growlithe/arcanine are often used as police dogs, so i can see them being used military wise as well. also 1337 just feels like a dog lover to me

Killers:

Jason: Dragalge. this one’s mainly based off vibes, but i think it fits. i wanted to give him some kind of pokemon that lives in the water, bc in the friday the 13th movies jason is someone who drowned and spends his time lurking around in a lake

1x1x1x1: Banette. a doll that was so full of hate after being abandoned, it came to life! very fitting for mr. embodiment of hatred

c00lkid: Rotom! A pokemon who causes mayhem and chaos by messing with technology. fitting for a chaotic hacker! 

John Doe-this one was difficult, but eventually i settled on hydreigon. a big scary monster with nothing on its mind but destruction, kind of like john.

and for some of the skins who are kind of their own characters:

Bluudude has a shiny rotom, just to show c00lkid up.

Roachas would have a trevenant, evil ass tree possessed by the dead soul of a child. if you know the ARG you know why that’s fitting 

Mafioso would have a honchcrow. bird that’s a mafia boss, it even sort of looks like him. or you can give him a scorbunny if u want him to have a rabbit

Wish I knew anything about Pokemon so I could understand this.

[simonsapelsin]

Young Royals Sports AUs

🏒 Hockey

futures we should try to make by @royalwilmon (WIP)

Simon’s rookie year playing hockey in the NHL is off to a slow start. That is until the troubled son of a former hockey legend gets traded onto his team. With explosive chemistry on and off the ice, Wille and Simon have a good shot of taking the league by storm.

Et c'est le but! by @piebingo (WIP)

An AU where Simon moves in with a host family when he gets chosen by a new hockey team, halfway across the globe. While he gets along with his host parents, their son isn't too happy about this new living situation.

⚽ Football

The Twelfth Player (series) by @malinowaj

When professional footballer Wilhelm Andersson meets popstar Simon Eriksson, he doesn't know just how much his life is going to change. But how much is he willing to lose to win?

Coming Straight Home to Me by willefroggie (WIP)

Wille is a soccer player for the Swedish men's national football team and Simon is an international pop star.

🏀 Basketball

can i take a shot at your heart? by @theaviatorthatcouldnotfly (WIP)

Simon and Wille may be teammates on the Hillerska boys' basketball team, but that doesn't mean they get along. After a video destroyed their friendship, Simon's been determined to avoid Wille at all costs. But when they're forced to work together for the sake of team bonding, Simon finds himself having to confront some truths about what really went on between them- and whether he really hates Wilhelm as much as he once thought he did.

🏊‍♂️ Swimming

Like a Flipturn, You've Got Me Head Over Heels series by @invisiblewille

Normally the main fight at the Olympics is to see who gets first. But ever since Simon took the swimming world by a storm during the Rio Olympics in 2020, it's not been a question of who would get first, but who would join the Venezuelan swimmer and his equally accomplished Swedish rival on the podium in third. Gold and silver belonged to Wille and Simon. Everyone else could only hope to fight for bronze.

🤸 Gymnastics

Win The Meet-verse (series) by hillerskabrainrot

An alternate universe where Wille isn't a prince and neither of them go to Hillerska. They're both on Sweden's national gymnastics team and meet when they're made roommates during a national team camp.

The Winner Takes It All by @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

It's the Stockholm Olympics and Prince Wilhelm expects to be bored out of his mind watching the Men's Artistic Gymnastics. He does not expect to leave the event with a big, fat crush on gymnast Simon Eriksson. Nobody expects him to show up to another artistic gymnastics event. And another one.

🌊 Diving

hold on to what you believe by @leojfitz (WIP)

Wille and Simon both qualify for the Olympics. They have to share a room, and Wille is not too happy about it. Until he kind of he is.

🥊 Boxing

Down for the count by @iwouldnevergetintofanfic

Prince Wilhelm is known for his notoriously dangerous hobbies. He might be compensating for his pointless job but who's asking. So of course he jumps at the chance of participating in the "Celebrity vs. Pro Boxer" reality TV show. He's a bit surprised when his trainer, boxing champion Simon Eriksson, famous for his mean left hook and his burning ambition, meets him with baseless, blatant hostility. But then again, this might be just the thrill Wille so desperately seeks…

⛸️ Figure Skating

Hope and Legacy by @malinowaj (WIP)

Simon Eriksson has been skating nearly all his life and has a dream. To make that dream come true, he agrees to help Wilhelm with his skating. Little does Simon know that in doing so, he's getting more than he bargained for.

🎾 Tennis

now we're knee-deep in this mess by @prplewille

Simon and Wilhelm are friends. Then they have sex, fall in love, play tennis and ruin each other's lives. In no particular order.

[purplepixel]

What if the turtles were in the pokemon world? And what if they were never turtles, but in fact, mutated pokemon? What if they lived in the Castelia sewers of Unova instead of New York?

Meet my Rise/Pokemon AU!! Waaaah this has been on my mind for MONTHS now. Pokemon is that one fixation that'll never leave me. I'm THAT pokemon fan that knows WAAAAY too much about the games and lore. For those that don't know,

Raph is Drednaw

Leo is Wartortle

Mikey is Torkoal

Donnie is Lapras

Yes. They are all shiny. I started with raph, since him as drednaw is pretty much a no brainer. The shiny form fit too well with him and his color scheme. Than I realized if I made him shiny, I had to make the other bros shiny as well so THEY ALL SHINY. (draxum shiny hunter confirmed?) Also dual rock typing fits well with raph's character.

Wartortle for leo was also a pretty obvious choice. I MEAN LOOK AT HIM. Long flowy tail? Yes please. I had to keep his markings somehow. Wartortle has little dark cheek spots, so I just changed them to be leo's markings. Water typing leo. Go with the flow, think on the spot, it worked out too well.

Torkoal for Mikey was another easy one. Fire turtle? Passionate, warm, also DANGEROUS (he can be a menace ok) Say no more. His powers in rise are already pyro related. Also having him shiny helped a lot with the color scheme. Torkoal is normally orange so having mikey be the yellow shiny form meant I didn't have to mess with his mask colors

Donnie on the other hand....OHHH BOI I STRUGGLED WITH YOU. I went through 4 DIFFERENT POKEMON, before deciding on the least turtle like of them all. I am aware that we do have a softshell pokemon with enamorous, but it's a legendary so thats not happening. But it was really important for me to keep donnie's soft shell and battle shell. I wanted this to be a RISE au and donnie's battle shell is pretty tied into his character. (there's also tirtouga which I almost went with, but I didn't like that both he and raph shared the exact same dual typing) Soooo, Lapras. Its more of a loch ness monster but it also draws inspiration from a placochelys (prehistoric seaturtle esque species) so IM COUNTING IT. Very unconventional but I have my reasons. Ice typing is a good offensive type, but is pretty bad defensively. Which ties into rise donnie's fighting style. If I wasn't a coward, I wouldve made donnie the biggest of the bros. Since lapras is like 8 feet tall compared to the others being like 1-3 feet. But uhhh, I swear I have an in universe explanation for why he's so small ok.

And than there's April. She is not a pokemon trainer in this au. At least not in the traditional sense. I've been with pokemon for all of my 26 years of life, and I always wanted to know what the normal people of the pokemon world are up to. Not everyone is out here collecting gym badges, travelling, or catching them all. How do non-trainers interact with the pokemon world? So that's where I'm at with April. She will get a pokemon partner, but other than that, she's just an average high schooler who befriended the turtles from a young age and takes part in all their shenanigans. I took some design elements from rosa and hilbert with her outfit, but otherwise its pretty much the same.

We'll see how far I'll take this. I've been using this as a break from my many other projects, but like everything I do, it grew too many legs and is slowly becoming its own thing.

[williceunleashed]

Here is Dardanne, he mirrors Melony, who's perpetually on Ghetsis's side, while Dar ultimately chooses to pick N's side

More infos under the cut !

Dardanne's Politoed was originally his father's pokémon. He followed him when he ran away from home.

Politoed dies of old age during the 2 years gap between b1w1 and b2w2.

Dardanne has some sort of selective mutism. He barely talks to strangers and can sometimes give incoherent answers due to stress. In b1w1, he physically cannot talk to people he considers "scary" (the Sages, the whole Harmonia family, gym leaders, anyone with some sort of authority over him)

The mutism gets better in b2w2 and he can now talk to almost everyone :)

Dardanne joined Plasma as a teenager after fleeing from his abusive home, with his father's Politoed and a backpack. His family didn't look for him, believing he left to become a trainer. Being a runaway, he wasn't considered a high priority for authorities anyway

Dardanne was in a very vulnerable situation before joining Plasma, and ended up joining out of despair because at this point he had nowhere else to go. Also, the idea of helping pokémons in danger was of course very appealing to him

Dardanne has some sort of sibling-like relationship with Melony in b1w1, and Melony is the one showing him the ropes and mentoring him. They also relate to each other on having difficult home life (not in quite the same intensity tho), being trans and generally being autistic. They are also both kalossian.

Dardanne is one of the grunts who is in charge of escorting N throughout Unova in b1w1. Dardanne slowly comes out of his shell and bonds with N as the both of them come to conclude that Team Plasma's ideology might be wrong. Dardanne and N also have some really cool bonding over childhood traumas and autism

N and Dardanne infodump on each other A LOT

At the best of their relationship, they go full on autism-mode and they stim with each other. Also if one of them makes a weird sound, you can be sure the other will repeat it, and it won't stop for hours

The both of them do enjoy physical contact with each other (hugs, petting, kisses) as long as enough pressure is applied to the touch for their body to register it properly (The autism is strong with these two). N can give awkward hugs to others, but Dardanne dislikes physical contact from people other than N, Rood or Alder.

When Ghetsis reveals that the end goal of Team Plasma is to take over Unova with him as the new leader, Dardanne is devastated, because he lost the few landmarks he had finally acquiered; Team Plasma collapses on itself and everyone picks a side or goes back home. Dardanne doesn't have a home to go back to, refuses to follow Ghetsis, and N is gone.

Melony leaves Dardanne behind, as Mel chooses to follow Ghetsis, later becoming part of Neo Plasma

During b2w2, like several repentant ex-plasma grunts, Dardanne is taken care of by Alder and Rood to deconstruct the damages the cult brainwashing has done.

Despite being sent to the Safe House of Driftveil, Dardanne often leaves and hangs out in the abandoned Castle, looking for a sense of comfort and routine again, despite the Castle being a place of abuse

Between b1w1 and b2w2 he converts into a normal trainer with the encouragements of Rood. He doesn't catch pokémons, still following N's ideas from b1w1, and instead adopts pokémons who have been left behind or abused by their trainers

When N comes back, Dardanne still feels a strong sense of loyalty to him after years of cult brainwashing, and despite trying his best not to, he will still act like N's grunt from time to time

During b2w2, Dardanne lives by himself with his pokémons in a small isolated house. He regularly takes in abused pokémons and takes care of them, giving them back some trust in humans. Afterwards, the pokémons are usually either freed, or given to a new, caring trainer. As for work, Dardanne works at the local Pokémon Nursery

Despite being in a better place and slowly saving money, Dardanne refuses any kind of physical transition, as he doesn't trust medical staff and is generally scared of operations (the few times he had to get stitches in Plasma were not great times). Thankfully, he doesn't get much body dysphoria

Dardanne struggles to befriend anyone outside of former Plasma members (his parental figure is Rood, his partner is N...)

Dardanne goes to win the badges eventually, post b2w2, with N at his side. N also participates, just for the fun of it, this time.

N does give Zekrom to the player of b2w2, but Zekrom chooses to return to him once the events of b2w2 end. N also reunites with Concordia, Anthea, Rood and his Zoroark (very important)

Happiness ensues

[aaaaaaallljffourrhodri]

Scars

A @libraryraccoon prompt

It was now a week since the whole STYKS fiasco and Grim was now back to Ramshackle living his student life to the fullest... however there was something bothering Grim... "Why does this place fill empty?" Grim hadn't seen his henchman since his return to the school grounds.

In his room the prefect was still unconscious recovering from the last overblot fight; the phantom had made him hit his head by throwing him to a wall.

When Yuu finally woke up ramshackle was surrounded by silence; "It's probably school time I shouldn't worry about it too much" after struggling a bit the prefect got up leaning onto the desk that was near his bead. Suddendly the mirror gave him a crude sight of reality: a black and blue scar ran trough his left eye.

"Oh right Grim..." The prefect murmured with sorrow before sighing "It would be better if I cover this up..." After a quick patch up his left eye was bandaged and hidden to everyone's sight with his black hair.

A week had passed again. Things were back to normal, and Yuu couldn't be more glad to see Grim finally happy! However there was something bothering him... why even after all the medication he took the scratch was still there? Didn't that potion cure scars? Why is it still there?

Lost with his train of toughs, Yuu didn't notice his legs took him to one place he dreaded the most: the botanical garden.

Yuu knew if he met the sleeping lion his cover would be blown and make Grim and the others far too preoccupied for his sake.

Panicking, he tried to exit the place, making as little noise as possible, only to be betrayed by a twig on the ground.

And there he was standing in all his majestic stance thr sunset savanna Prince, observing with annoyed eyes the now panicked prefect.

His look then softened before he scrunched up his nose without any word spoken he wrapped his hand around the collar of the prefect's shirt "Herbivore you stink."

The prefect tried to play it dumb

"Thanks, Leona..."

The lion growled. "Do you think I'm stupid Herbivore? Don't play dumb. We both know what I'm talking about the fact that you smell of decaying flesh." After his hand moved Yuu's hair out of the way, revealing a patch of bandages.

"Listen, Yuu, I'm not gonna tell anyone if that's what you want... however, I was not kidding when I said it smells like rotten flesh you should get checked by that dog trainer but for now I'll patch you up." Releasing his grip on the prefect he whipped out his magic pen casting a healing spell."This should keep things at bay for a while." Yuu swallowed before looking down not saying a word Leona hears were now flat on his head "You know I didn't want to say this but... that scar... reminds me of when I overblotted... the tought of me hurting you is now a nightmare to me so please get it checked."

Leaving the prefect stunned by this sudden confession, Leona started to head back to his dorm before turning one last time "Also; don't worry about that furball I'm sure he will understand that you forgive him if you tell him and you know.... having a scar is not something to be ashamed off" the lion said before pointing to his scar."For me, this is a reminder ofa successfull hunt, for you it will be a reminder of how much you endured since you came here..."

The prefect smiled softly thinking of Leona's words before heading back to the school ho owned everyone an explanation afterall.

(This was supposed to be super agsty but I made it fluff- o well. Sorry if it's not what you imagined @libraryraccoon but we'll enjoy? I guess?)

[melanieph321]

I have an idea but it's set in an alternate universe :

Ruben is a personal trainer and he helps training reader because she has a health issue and gym/training is one of the ways to overcome her issue. I don't have anything in my mind right now regarding the health issue so it's up to you to develop that part 😁

What a lovely way to end these seven days of requests. Thank you ❤️

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS 3.0

(DAY 7)

Ruben Dias x Reader - Made of Glass

+18

Enjoy!

"One more, you can do it!"

"I can't do it Ruben."

"Yes you can. Come on Y/N, one more step."

"No, Ruben. You're pushing me too hard."

"Y/N, it's just one step. You can do it."

He was right about that. You put everything into taking that one step. Your last step before your legs buckled beneath you. Fortunately, Ruben was the to catch you. He was always there to catch you when you fell.

"Fuck." You winced as your hands touched the floor. Ruben caught you just in time with his arm around your stomach. However, he did not prevent you from scrubbing your knees.

"Are you okay?" Ruben picked you up and carried you over to the nearest bench. You hated when he did that. It reminded you of the times you fell as a child. How your parents would get so anxious to let you outiside and play with your friends, fearing that you would hurt yourself again. However, doctors told you that having fragile bones will come with its challenges in life, and up until today, you have always been able to handle those challenges by yourself.

"I should put a band-aid on that knee. Other than that, everything looks fine."

"Don't bother." You told Ruben, who had gotten up to retrive the gyms' first aid kit.

"Y/N, but you're bleeding?"

"It doesn't matter. I want to go again." You made the effort to stand up. However, your legs quickly retaliated, wobbling beaneath you, making it impossible for you to walk unless supporting yourself. Luckily, you found Ruben's bicep, clinging onto it for dear life.

"That's it, I'm driving you home." Ruben said and did not give you time to protest. You drove home in silence, with Ruben stopping the car right outside of your apartment complex.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard today." He said, shutting off the car engine.

"Isn't that your job?" You chuckled.

"It's what you pay me for, yes. But I tend to forget that you're...."

"Weak." You nodded and looked to your hands.

"Not weak." Ruben sighed. "I was gonna say fragile."

"It's the same thing, Ruben, and you know it."

"It's not."

"Whatever." You cracked open his car door, making the attempt to step out of Ruben's car. However, you quickly realized the effects of today's workout. How it left you more fragile than normal, completely unable to walk.

"I got you." Ruben appeared before you faster than you could comprehend. He did not hesitate to bend down and pick you up in his arms, carrying you inside your apartment building.

"Somedays are worse..." You said. Ruben unlocked your apartment door and carried you to the living room, setting you down on the couch. "But the fatigue will ware off eventually."

Ruben did not look as convinced. It was clear that he refused to leave you alone until he was sure that you were okay. This has only happened once before after one of your sessions and even back then, before the two of you had gotten to know each other, Ruben promised to stay with you as long as you needed him to.

"Here, drink some water." He said, passing you a bottle from your fridge.

"You don't have to do this." You sighed and fell back on the couch after taking a few sips of water. You found the remote and turned on the TV.

"I don't think it's a good idea to wait it out." Ruben said regarding you skeptically as you relaxed on the couch.

"It usually just takes a few minutes." You assured. "I'll be back on my feet in no time."

Ruben still didn't look convinced. "We have to increase the blod circulation in your legs." He said.

"We?"

"Yes, we. I'll help you stretch."

"Oh, boy. Here we go again."

Ruben had already joined you on the couch, massaging the bottom of your feet. All though it felt amazing, all you wished was for Ruben to leave you alone. You were already embarrassed enough, self-conscious about the fact that your clothes still smelled of sweat. Ruben, on the other hand, smelled amazing. Like liquid soap and a dash of aftershave.

"Please, Ruben, this is really not necessary. I don't want to be a burden."

"You're not a burden."

"I know, I just—"

"Y/N." Ruben stiffened, regarding you sternly. "You're not a burden to me, okay? Not to anyone, for that matter."

You heart fluttered. "Ruben I..."

"It doesn't matter." He said. "Just let me take care of you."

"Okay."

You fell back on your couch and let Ruben take care of you. He was obviously everything you wanted in a man. Kind, strong, and handsome. The undisputed three. However, you were quite convinced that a guy like him could never be interested in his opposite, a girl like you.

"Is this okay?" Ruben moved on to message the lower part of your back as you turned over to lay on your stomach. "Y/N, you have to tell me if what I'm doing is okay or not."

"It's okay." You sniffled, having failed to answer him the first time. Ruben stopped what he was doing, a gentle hand on your back. "Y/N?"

"Please, Ruben. I'm fine, really."

"You don't sound fine."

He was right, and you weren't. Your emotions bubbled up, causing unwanted tears to flood your eyes. You tried to hide them by nuzzling your face against the cuchens. Unfortunately, Ruben felt your body shiver. His expression softened as he made you look at him. It was the first time he saw you crying.

"Ruben, I..." You tried to excuse your tears, but Ruben wouldn't let you. His hand on your cheek forced you to look at him as his thumb swiped away your tears. "No one is weak for showing emotions." He said, with a voice so rich and so deep that a part of you wondered if he was getting emotional as well. "You're not weak, Y/N. You're just human."

"A very fragile human." You chuckled. "I'm starting to believe the kids that used to tell me that I was made of glass."

"Well, believe me." Ruben tilted your head, his gaze soft and kind. "You're not made out of glass. The complete opposite. You're made out of resilience and whatever made the stubborn and beautiful woman that you are."

Again, your heart almost escaped your chest, blood rushing in every direction of your body.

"What?" Ruben said, seeing your expression.

"You....you think I'm beautiful?"

Ruben's eyes widened when he realized. "Oh, I....well I....." His cheeks blossmed. "Y/N, I....."

"Yes?"

"I didn't mean to...."

"To?"

He shook his head, snapping out of it. "I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable, why?"

"Well, I'm not exactly in a good position to...." His hand left your face. So did his other hand on your thigh. "I'm your trainer. It would be highly inappropriate for us to..."

"To?"

"To...you know."

"I do?" You frowned.

He sighed. "Y/N, it would be highly inappropriate for us to engage in anything....sexual."

"But what if I want to?"

"You do?"

You shrugged. "Only if you want to."

He looked tempted. Considering it. However, with furrowed brows, he shook his head. "No. We can't. We can't because of your legs."

"My legs?" You looked down on them and realized that you were able to wag your toes again.

"Their tired Y/N. You're tired from today's workout."

"Right, tired." You brought your knees up to your chin, wrapping your arms around your legs. "Or perhaps you mean fragile?"

Ruben's stiffened. His entire demeanor uncertain. "Y/N, I never meant to hurt...."

"My feelings? Yeah, guys have told me that all my life. Don't worry, I've learned to protect myself from guys like you."

He frowned. "Guys like me?"

"Yes, people who pity others for their disabilities rather than recognizing their abilities and what they can do. Who they truly can become."

"Y/N, there's no doubt in my mind of your abilities. You're stronger than you realize, and It's my job to help you realize that. However, it is not my job to fall in love with my clients, and I'm afraid that I've done just that."

"What?"

Ruben nodded, his hand on your thigh. "Your beautiful Y/N, flaws and all. But you're also stubborn, too stubborn."

"What can I say...." You smiled.  "I know what I want." You pulled his shirt, tugging Ruben towards you. He resisted at first but eventually went down willingly, your lips colliding in a gentle kiss. The kiss lasted as long as you allowed it, with Ruben pushing you down to lay beaneath him on the couch. There, his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it gently, teasingly. The sounds of your smacking lips filled the living room, dimming the sounds of the TV.

Although Ruben convinced you to be the one to keep it in his pants, it did not take long for his erection to poke you in the stomach, reaveling the size of him.

"I want you." You moaned.

Ruben gritted his teeth, stroking his hips against your thigh. "I want you too, baby. Trust me. But you should really take it easy."

"Fine." You pushed Ruben off of you and came to a rest on your knees. "I should take it easy, but not you." With a hand on his chest, you pushed Ruben down to sit back on the couch. He did so with his legs spread, his erection a visible bulge through his pants.

You slid down onto the floor, getting to work right away, pulling down his shorts, setting his dick free. Ruben groaned as you grabbed onto his large shaft, squeezing it gently in your hand.

"Do you want me to suck it?" You asked, your lips already pressed against its tip.

"Suck it, blow it...do whatever you want, baby." He was eager, so eager that it made you giggle. Nevertheless, placing one hand on his thigh for support, you took him into your mouth, letting the size of him tighten your jaw.

"Fuck....yes." He sighed. Even more so as your head started moving up and down, sucking him clean.

"Yes baby, just like that."

You showed no signs of slowing down. However, with a hand gripping the back of your hair, Ruben slowed the motion, derminating the speed to one he liked. "Just like that baby, nice and slow."

Sometimes, he made you go faster. Praising the way you gagged on it before going slow again, allowing you to recover.

"You're such a good girl baby, such a good girl for me."

His dick was soaked in your saliva, the warmth of his skin caressing the insides of your cheeks. Slowly but surely, you edge him closer to his limits. To a point of breaking.

"Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum so hard for you, please don't stop."

You didn't stop. Instead, you upped the pace, adding on to the friction by using your hands. Ruben's head fell back with pleasure, squinting his eyes as he moaned your name.

"Fuuuuck!"

Ruben sighed with the relief. You backed off and wiped the corners of your mouth as he looked to you in disbelief, slightly impressed. "You're crazy, Y/N. The craziest girl I've ever met."

"Thank you." You smiled.

He pulled you up to sit in his lap, kissing your mouth without hesitantion. "No baby, thank you."

[elodieunderglass]

I'd like to know more about Killie's family!

Thank you so much!! I LOVE THEM

Killie’s family are a horse racing “dynasty” of several generations, with his branch being especially trashy, mean to each other, in debt and all-consumingly horse-obsessed. The historical base of the paternal family is County Meath in the Republic of Ireland - Killie’s mother is English.

The greater family is competitive, horse-obsessed, and that depressing mindset of being conservative-without-being-rich. You’re not allowed to name children like racehorses (because of woke) but they’ve made up for it by having a tradition of sharing a generation-based initial letter for their first name. Killie’s in the “C” generation, and his siblings and cousins all have C-names.

The parents are awful, and you can see the stamp of their influence on Killie and his siblings. The family are justifiably proud of Killie, though toxic about it.

Here’s the sibling set before Charlie’s estrangement:

Press “Keep reading” for fascinating Killie personal life below:

Killie (Cillian), oldest, and even by their family’s standards, incredibly Good at Horses. Master of the preternatural jockey powers of the mental timer (can set and stop accurate stopwatches and timers in his head; the opposite of time blindness), psychic horse connection, inhuman discipline and stoicism (the Jockey Constitution (TM).) champion jockey over jumps and on the flat, closing in on legendary status, while also secretly falling apart in every other direction. We happen to know that he’s secretly a bisexual demisexual wet stray cat with exhausted anxiety and Terminal Horse Autism, but he does a very good job of projecting aggression acceptable jockey energy, and therefore Nobody Suspects. Moved to the UK as a contracted jockey with a prominent stable and is genuinely, genuinely good at what he does. About 4’10”, extremely desirable height for an international-quality lightweight flat jockey, but just about too light for UK/Irish steeplechasing (but he’s intensely bonkers, so he does it anyway.)

Charlie (Charles), twin, hates horses (actually rather good with them as animals! but hates competition, gambling, pain, The Racing Industry, hurting himself, pain, animal abuse, falling off, trashiness, when they step on you, horse racing, and Being So Brave About It.) Horse Hating ADHD, pictured here being insufferable because he actually owns clothes besides breeches and boots. Family lore states that the twins were born prematurely because Charlie attempted to murder Killie in the womb, but that sounds medically improbable. Regardless, the twins failed to thrive in NICU until being placed in the same incubator together, so even if murder attempts were made, they reconciled right away. Unfortunately estranged from family, sport and home by being unapologetically and flagrantly bisexual, he vanished from Killie’s life for over a decade, and ended up building an unexpectedly normal and healthy life in which horses did not eat any of his fingers. They used to have magical twin telepathy before estrangement.

Charlie always sounds like he’s speaking with emojis, has a great deal of charm, and did so much of The Talking when they were younger that Killie was able to secretly conceal and get over his own stammer. While being outwardly 300x more social and funny and lovable, Charlie is actually much more of a bastard than (secretly soft) Killie, and defended Killie and the other siblings from bullies on all sides, including/especially their parents.

Ciara, an unpleasant wench three years younger than the twins, who wasted her twenties being mean in the comments. Mediocre jockey, now a trainer’s assistant, back living with parents while slow-motion Republic of Ireland (TM) Divorce goes through. Despite being a homophobic harpy during the catastrophic Estrangement Incident, would desperately like to see Charlie again. Much of her internet usage sprang from the compulsion to find Charlie on social media (she never managed.) weirdly, being really online accidentally radicalised her, and despite only hanging out with incredibly conservative bigoted people IRL, she made nice friends online and became secretly quite tolerable, and guilty about all of it. Wouldn’t talk to Killie about any of this, though. Killie’s perfect. Killie’s the culmination of a five-generation breeding experiment to create the perfect jockey, and by all metrics, it worked. Killie once had a 500-kilo horse fully land on his thighbone and only said a mild “bugger.” Killie wouldn’t get it at all.

Colm - youngest. not a great rider, not very interesting, not much presence, not very brave, no particular instinct for horses, not especially disciplined, no particular ambition, and excessively large. Works as an exercise rider, groom and general stablehand for his parents (constant criticism, zero thanks), and presumably has a private life, but keeps his head down. His takeaway from Charlie’s estrangement was: everyone loved Charlie most of all, and that’s how quickly they threw him away - what hope do I have, if I put a foot wrong? Really misses Killie, lacks the ability to follow him, lost as a result.

Charlie and Killie reconciling would shore up a tremendous amount of Killie’s collapsing mental landscape, and prove utterly necessary for Killie surviving the total tailspin of being forcibly loved by a completely random great big beardy nerdy American man life outside of being a jockey.

And it is entirely possible that there are uncles and aunts and cousins who would turn around and say, quite fiercely, Cillian’s the best of us. We love and admire him more than we love winning. He throws his heart over the fences and then follows it, and when it’s important he always wins. If Killie wants a boyfriend - then you know what? Fuck it. Maybe that’s winning. Maybe we’d rather be on his side, the winning side - the side of the best of us.

It has a chance of all being okay.

(Greyuncle Era: Ciara and Colm manage a near-complete recovery from their family of origin. They choose to never have kids, and good for them. Charlie, polyamorous bisexual in an incredibly stable three-person marriage, has a mysterious number of kids (he and his husband and wife produced kids with the admirable Lucky Dip method; but they’re all Charlie’s, of course. They’re also all his biologically, because he won. He won all of them. He has the fastest sperm, if you want to know. okay, admittedly only some are markedly shorter and more ginger than the rest, but frankly YOU NEVER KNOW, do you?? Charlie himself has a brunette sister! and a younger brother who is VERY NEARLY almost tall?? Genetics are a mystery 😤 no this is NOT a racing thing, this is - no he’s not competitive. He’s better than that. He hates - they’re - shut up.

This results in the “between 12-75 business greatniblings” that Killie and Derek share. Derek actually knows how many there are. Killie cannot physiologically remember that kind of thing, his brain just turns to static; and Charlie possibly doesn’t know himself. And it’s okay and it’s okay and it’s okay and it’s okay and in fact they are HAPPY AND WELL.)

[rimunagenius]

So Bad

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 2.5k

ʚ warning: RPF!! , slight angst?, fluff, sexual tension, two idiots inlove trope

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: sorry this took too long to put out guys…i’ve been trying to write but it’s been so stressful since i broke my foot. i missed a whole week of school so i was trying to catch up and do homework, while doing the current assignment, while doing college classes, and trying to write…it’s been ROUGH. anyways…hope you like this!! it’s a little short but the next part is gonna be long !! just a heads up

Part 5

| Series Masterlist |

The plane ride to Albany was a little tense. You wanted to go in support of the team because this was a game on neutral ground. You guys had made it to the elite eight and that was something you all wanted but had to fight like hell to get. You were only an assistant trainer, theoretically, you didn't have to be here, but you wanted to be here for Kate and the girls. Your best friends. The girls managed to make sweet sixteen and won, and now it was time for the elite eight. 

You and Kate haven't talked about the night in your living room. You guys just seemed to pick back up where it was to begin with. Jada thought it was great but was also concerned about the will of self-control you two had to have. 

Caitlin eventually found out, pressing Kate about why she had been a ray of sunshine for the last month. She had become the biggest shipper and supporter of you both. Her, Jada, and now Gabbie had known and it felt okay. No hard feelings or bitterness. 

"What room are you staying in tonight?" Kate whispered as she tried to put her face in the small gap between your seat and the side of the plane, you both having window seats in stacked rows. 

"Uh, might have to delete this from the vlog, Kate." You give her a small pointed look as you turn your body, pointing to the small camera you had been using to record a vlog for an Athletic Trainers day in the life. 

"Oh shit, I'm sorry." Kate laughed, knowing how that might have sounded. 

"No, it's fine. But I'm technically under staff, not a student, so I'm staying on the same floor as Lisa, the assistant coaches, and other staff. Why?" She had a small frown after she realized you guys weren't on the same floor tonight. 

"Because I want to sleep close to you."  You were quite confused as she had never had this issue before. It was okay on past travel games because she had Caitlin or Jada, but she was sort of attached to your hip since that night, but you didn't think it was going to be a problem. 

You looked around, seeing AJ and Molly asleep right next to you, before looking back into the crack between your seats. "Isn't that against the whole, not starting a relationship thing, Kate?" You gave her a soft smile, finding it cute and endearing that she wanted to be close to you. 

"I never said we had to share the same bed, I just said I wanted to be close to you. You know, like the apartment?" Your guys' rooms were right next to each other's in the apartment back home. 

"I promise you'll be okay Kate. You can call me in the morning and I'll go to your room to get ready if you want me to?” You suggested, turning your camera completely off after you stopped recording. You set it down inside the bag at your feet before sliding on your headphones. 

You had Chappel Roan playing, the irony in the song that was blasting through your beats, ‘Good Luck Babe!’, and your arm resting on the armrest where you had previously had your face talking to Kate when you felt a hand tap your forearm. You lifted your head from resting on your fist and looked down. Her hand extended palm to you. You frowned softly, appreciating the small acts of affection Kate was always willing to give you. 

You got up on your knees, and looked over the seat, spotting Kate's head resting against the back of your seat, looking down on her phone, sacrificing better posture just to simply be close with you. You sat back down normally, sparing your exposure to spying on Kate, and placed your hand in hers. You two interlocked your fingers and held hands. 

You both knew this wasn't out of the ordinary. But something felt so different about it this time. Knowing the connection you two share and the love you two have for one another is something that hangs a thick fog of tension and uncertainty about what to do with all the emotions. You took a picture of your hands, wanting to capture the small moments of intimacy. 

You truly loved this girl with your whole heart and you were so willing to give it all to her if she wanted it. 

A free day in Albany was granted before getting back to work the next day. So the staff, including you, and the team were free to explore together or separately. It was a lot of the girls' first time in New York so everyone wanted to go sightseeing. You had been looking for an outfit to wear, not much to throw together since you packed a lot of lounging clothes and your Hawkeye gear for the games, when there was a knock at your door. You assumed it was Jada having talked to her on the phone not that long ago talking about getting ready, letting her know what room you were in. "Coming, Jada!" You shouted from the edge of your bed, throwing your clothes back in your suitcase. 

"Not Jada." Kate smiled when you opened the door for her and let her in. You laughed and told her it was because you were also expecting Jada. 

"Kate, I cannot find an outfit." You looked too stressed for a small team exploration outing. You sighed as you proceeded to dig through the suitcase some more. 

"Relax, you'll find something. Let me see what you have." Kate walked over, standing impossibly close next to you while she helped neatly pick out clothes and placed them on the bed still neatly folded. She picked what seemed to be your black flare leggings and your all-black long-sleeve. "That's cute. What shoes did you bring?" 

You looked at her, jaw dropped. There was no way the most plain, midwestern masc, was dressing you in something cute. You pointed to the black and yellow dunks that the Iowa staff gifted you this season. "Okay, wear those shoes with your Iowa puffer vest? Basic but still you." Kate shrugged, mumbling a small 'I don't know though.' 

"I love it. Thank you, Kate." You smiled softly, disappearing into the bathroom. She nodded softly, before sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing some clothes back into your suitcase, before sipping on the water she had in her hands. Your phone pinged. 

Notification from Jada, texting she was on the way up to the room. "Jada's on her way," Kate said, pausing after seeing your lock screen. The picture of you and Kate holding hands. Her cheeks turned red, sudden butterflies in her belly and her palms growing clammy, it didn't help you came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. You looked so beautiful…she was in deep. 

"How do I look?" You asked, posing with hands on your hips. You saw how red her face was, and the way she just slowly dragged her eyes up your body. It made you shuffle of nervousness, suddenly so nervous under her gaze. 

"So gorgeous, sunshine." The nickname gave you butterflies, not having heard in a while. Not since before you confessed your feelings to her. Suddenly that name felt like you were carrying a new title to her. 

"You think? Looks like you know to dress after all." You teased, and she stood up before taking your hand and spinning you. 

"Oh, yup! This fit is so cute!" She needed to act normal, especially before Jada came in and noticed the tension between the two of you. It's like you both just wanted to hurry up time and get to the good part. You wanted each other so bad but you two made a deal. After the tourney, you could be together. You were almost there. 

You spun back around to face her, immediately wanting to kiss her. You two stood so close, your self-control wearing thin as you saw her eyes dart from each of your eyes, down to your lips, and doing it all over again. One hand of hers now ghosting your hip, wanting to pull you in closer. 

"We can't, remember?" You don't know why you said it. You should've let it happen. You could've but Kate said you two should wait, so you needed to say something. 

"Why not?" Her whisper sounded desperate. 

"Because you said so." 

"When do you ever listen to me anyways, gorgeous?" Her lips were so impossibly close to yours, you damn near almost fell to your knees. Her other hand found your waist, her slowly inching your chest against hers when a knock on the door was heard. 

She dropped her hands from you, your body already missing the feeling of her and the sensation she forced through your whole body. Catching your breath, you walked to the door and opened it for Jada who was accompanied by Gabbie and Caitlin. 

"You guys ready to sightsee!" Caitlin's enthusiasm through the roof as always, made you laugh as you walked away from the door to grab your shoes next to your bed. You didn't miss the way Kate watched you saunter through the room. Neither did everyone else. 

"Yes, I just need my shoes, and I'm good to go." You slid your shoes on, grabbed your purse, and ready to walk out the door. The three girls walked out, you following. You felt a hand grab yours, pulling you back slightly. 

In turn, a piece of hair fell into your face, Kate wasted no time in moving it back to the side of your face before handing you your phone and room key. "Left it charging, and this right next to it."

"Oh, thank you." You both were blushing. You two always seemed to be whenever you were around each other. Something about the other just made your body have a reaction, instantly feeling warm and welcomed in the other's presence. You two truly couldn't describe it, but you both knew it was real. 

You five spent the whole day walking into local coffee shops, and boutiques and just enjoying the scenery that Albany had to offer.  You guys ended the night in front of billboards of Caitlin, taking pictures of her and her success and the impact she's had on the game. You all took pictures of each other and with each other. One of your favorites was you on Caitlin's back, kissing her cheek, while she did her signature hands out in front of her billboard where she's shooting her record-breaking logo three. 

You guys even got strangers to take pictures of all of you lined up with each other. You guys were having so much fun. Missing days where basketball wasn’t the main focus for once.

"Hey, we're going to go to that place real fast, Gabbie wants lemonade and I want a soda." Jada told you before she and Gabbie walked off. You looked to check on Caitlin, who was taking pictures with fans, making sure she was alright. Some fans were acting crazy earlier that day.

You and Kate kept pointing at places you could see from where you were standing. "Oh my god, are you Kate Martin?" A girl walked up to Kate, she couldn't have been older than twelve and she looked so amazed at the six-foot blonde next to you. 

"Yeah! What's your name?" Kate was beaming, she loved kids. There weren't many in her family aside from little cousins but she didn't see them often, just Carson, but he wasn't old enough to talk yet.

"I'm Audrey. But I'm a huge fan. Everyone likes Caitlin, and I do too, but I think you're pretty cool too." Audrey was nervous. 

"Oh, my. Thank you, so much! I bet you're pretty cool, too." Kate bent down, trying her best to stay at eye level for the girl so she didn't have to look up.  

Two adults approached you guys, who you assumed to be Audrey's parents, and smiled as their daughter beamed at meeting her favorite player. "Sorry, she spotted you and took off. I hope she's not bothering you, guys." The parents apologized, not wanting their daughter to invade your guy's space, especially Kate's.

"No, not at all! She's so sweet." You said, smiling at the girl. 

"Can I get a picture?" Audrey asked. 

'Of course you can!" Kate was excited that people noticed her too. She’s used to be in the shadow of Caitlin, and she was happy there. But to know that people loved her as much as you and the team did was another level of belonging she loved to feel. The parents pulled out their phones and took a picture of their daughter. A smile on all of your faces. 

"I can take a picture of all of you if you want it?" You offered, wanting the parents to have the memory like their daughter, and the evidence to go with it. They thanked you as you took a picture of the family with Kate. 

You could tell this was a good experience for Kate. You loved to see her being recognized for the skills she also brings to Iowa women's basketball. It was cool to see it outside of Iowa too. Kate and the girl said goodbye, but not before signing the girl's white Converse. She wasn't going to leave without it. I wouldn’t either fr…

That's when Caitlin came back, sighing after all the photo ops she just partook in. "Cait, I know you're tired but lets get a pic with us three?" You asked softly, a warm smile hoping to convince the girl. 

"Oh my god. Let me take a picture of you guys. I can't be in another picture…if I am I don't know if I can do it without wanting to smash my own head with the phone." You laughed out loud, Kate hunched over laughing next to you. Your cheeks are now red, from the breeze and the laughter, Kate with her beautiful wide smile you adored, smiled for the picture. Caitlin said something else behind the camera, you didn't catch it but the look on her face made you giggle, so you turned your head when she took the picture. 

"Aw, man! Take another one, I moved." You pouted before moving closer to Kate's side, smiling wide. After the pictures were taken, you looked at them while you three waited for Jada and Gabbie to get back so you could start heading to the hotel. You scrolled to the first one, butterflies in your stomach when you saw your head tucked in close to Kate, her smiling big into the camera. It was so cute, you didn't have the heart to trash it, the next one was normal, and the last one was you smiling at the camera and Kate looking down at you. 

This was definitely your new favorite picture. You sent the pictures to her, listening to her phone ding as they came through. A soft smile on her face as she looked at them. You sent her the last one, with a small text. 

sunshine ☀️💕

"You look like you're in love with me, Martin." 

bear <3

"Kinda hard not to be." 

Neither of you couldn't stop smiling the rest of the night.

[caninecorundum]

On the Pokémon World

This is going to be pretty rambly so fair warning.

When I was in middle or high school, can't remember which, I was up at night on the verge of tears because I so desperately wanted Pokémon to be real. I go through periods of being genuinely distressed over this, searching for "Pokémon IRL"-themed things to watch and read and yearn over. Tonight is one of those nights.

I just need it so badly. I need to walk around and see trainers and their Pokémon walking about. Flying-types in the sky. Grass-types in the bush. Cuddling and riding and battling. A two-part harmony.

I recently confirmed the Pokémon world (like you'd see in the main series games and anime) as a hearthome. One of the deciding factors was taking that memory above, and comparing it to when I asked an online queer chat if breaking down when you learned about how your body would change in pubescence is normal.

It's not, on both accounts.

So I swear on Legendaries and my favorite anime opening is "Pokémon World" because of the lyrics and I was ecstatic over Pokémon GO's announcement and I daydream about scenarios where Pokémon physically enter the world and I get to interact with them as living beings, not just data.

Next morning edit:

I want to take a moment to emphasize how strong the need to be around Pokémon and live in a Pokémon world is. I'm not even talking about taking on the League necessarily (though I'd love that so much), just living with them would make me overjoyed. And although I'd love to visit the unique locales, I'd be fine living in the "real world" if we had physical Pokémon, so the hearthome aspect is sort of feeling at home in a particular lifestyle or... world configuration, I guess, of humans and Pokémon. I desperately want to be living that life.

I yearn for it.

Other things that feel resonant:

- The "welcome to the world of Pokémon" opening sequence from Giratina and the Sky Warrior.

- Fanfics where characters from the real world or other fiction suddenly get Pokémon or go to the main Pokémon world.

- The Detective Pikachu movie.

- The scene in Pokémon the Movie: I Choose You!where Ash dreams about a Pokémon-less world (which made me very upset that that was my situation).

- Pokémon IRL blogs and Pokémon roleplay in general.

- Having a friend who I consider my rival in competitive Pokémon, and who considers me hers.

- WolfeyVGC's videos where he's animated as actually going through life events with his Pokémon.

- The Pokémon Company referring to fans as "trainers," especially during Worlds.

- "Real Pokémon" media in general.

- Wearing an old sweatband with a Poké Ball on it as "trainer gear."

[bottle-of-harpoons]

Bruv, this took soo fucking long.

New AU dropping, boys.

So basically it's a hybrid between the 'toxic chain/possessed Kieran' AU and the 'Kieran is Ogerpon' AU.

In this AU, the events of the teal mask play out normally.

After Kieran looses his fight to Julianna, he starts hearing a mysterious voice in his head. It starts playing with his insecurities and telling him he needs to be stronger.

"That's why the oger didn't want you as a trainer. You were too weak".

Thanks to the voices advise and 'encouragement', Kieran quickly rises through the ranks of the Blueberry League and becomes champion. However, he also becomes a massive jackass.

The voice tell him that everyone is beneath him. He starts bullying other club members until the point were everyone is too imtimidated by him to hang out with him.

He is distant and aggressive towards the Elite 4. He doesn't even attend meetings and barley does any of his champion responsibilities, causing Amarys and Crispin to step up. Lacey was too busy helping Cyrano with academic duties. Drayton dedicated all his time to helping out the trainers Kieran bullied.

Kieran started skipping classes and dedicated all his time to training. The only person who still talked to him was Carmine.

However, after months of trying to reach out, Kieran finally snapes at Carmine, causing her to retreat from him. After this, Kieran finally realises he is truly alone. But thats when the voice makes a deal with him.

He could continue living his life alone and unloved or he could dawn the mask and start a new life. Kieran takes the mask, not fully understanding the deal. He ends up loosing his human form and turning into an Ogerpon. It is then that the voice reveals itself as Pecharunt and it steals Kieran human life.

Because of Kieran's shitty behaviour, he suspended from the academy for one month and 'Kieran' is sent back to Kitikami.

Kieran is left roaming around the Terrarium, dealing with the fact that he is now a pokemon and a whole fuck load of self esteem issues.

However, he is eventually found by Carmine and the new exchange student, Julianna.

Some notes in this AU -

Kieran isn't evil. He's a young child who needs help and the only people who notice are also children themselves. (Carmines doing what she can but she's still young and inexperienced)

Pecharunt has no control over Kierans actions or emotions. He basically says things to Kieran to encourage his negative thoughts and continue his unhealthy downward spiral.

I didn't explain this earlier but when Kieran put on the Ogerpon mask, he left behind a human mask that represents his human form. Pecharunt is currently wearing it.

Pecharunt wants a family again. He woke up many years later to find the old couple he used to live with had died. He wanted a family again but he wanted to live equally among the humans as well. So he started scheming to steal Kierans human life.

His plan just consists of him manipulating Kierans life until he was completely cut off from his friends and family. Once Kieran has nothing, he could trick Kieran into trading him his human life, then he could rebuild Kieran's life from the ground up.

Kieran's not having fun adjusting to life as a pokemon but he believes it's his punishment for being a dick to everyone.

Juliana's meowscarada is called Verde (haven't figured out what the rest of her team consists of yet). Carmine's mightyanna is called Subarashi (Suba for short), her sinistchi is called Chia, morpeko is Kamu and ninetails is Kyu (I used google translate for this, sorry if they're weird). Kieran's furret is called Shippo and his hydrapple is called Ringo.

Fun fact - This plot concept was taken from an old submas fanfic I started writing but never finished. Short summary was Ingo coming back to modern day Unova but he still has amnesia. His and Emmets relationship becomes very strained. Emmets ends up making a deal with Giratina to help turn him into a zorua and use hi illusion powers to get close to Ingo again. (I may post a full summary of the story one day)

Because of this, in the original draft, Kieran was going to turn into a zorua. I changed it just incase I ever wanted to revisits the old fic. Also I thought it would be funny if he turned into ogerpon.

This was heavily inspired by the Kieranpon au, the possessed Kieran au and the movie 'a whisker away'.

Sorry for any spelling errors. No excuse just can't spell for shit.

[nyaagolor]

Service Pokemon Headcanons

Recent asks got me thinking about service pokemon so I thought it would be fun to write down some ideas about how I think the system works overall

Similar to real life, in order for a pokemon to be considered a service pokemon it has to be trained and certified by the region the trainer lives in. The pokemon has to wear some kind of identification, usually in the form of a vest, and the trainer needs to keep a copy of the certification on hand in case the pokemon causes trouble or disrupts those around it. However, these can and typically are digital and any Rotom phone, poketch, pokedex, etc is equipped to pull it up at the press of a button

Pokemon are classified into categories based on size: A, B, C, and D. A is any pokemon that can be safely tucked under the arm or carried in a purse / bag, B is any pokemon that can fit in the lap of an average adult, C is anything the size of or smaller than a human, and D is everything larger than that. These classifications are mostly relevant for indoor venues and accommodations: you're unlikely to have a problem with a Class A-C pokemon, but Class D pokemon are pretty unlikely to be able to fit in doors or shopping aisles and have some trouble outside of their balls. There's been a lot of controversy in the pokemon world about whether service pokemon the size of people should be charged as an extra passenger, especially since they need their own seat (the answer, btw, as a resounding "no")

Generally speaking, the types preferred for service pokemon are normal, fighting, fairy, psychic, and electric. Normal types are good all rounders, fighting types are excellent for mobility assistance, electric types shine for those with service devices, psychic types can predict accidents and have the intelligence and dexterity for complicated tasks, and fairy types are great at emotional support. Other types CAN be service pokemon, but for practicality reasons they're not as common. The inherent talents of the species is also relevant

You can get your own pokemon trained as a service pokemon, and those who become disabled later in life will often do this because of their existing bond with their partner. Thus, there are plenty of unorthodox service pokemon out there

[thatonefanficwriternooneknows]

FoxQuin Week Day 3: Fox is Haunted

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night!

Back at it again with Day 3! (officially finished Day 6 at 3.8k words, I was POSSESSED I swear!) Anyway!

This one is completely inspired by It Was Only A Matter Of Time by Anon on ao3! (Love it, want to live in it, please it's so good) and is a bit longer than the other two days <3

Once again! Day 3 prompts: Fox/Coruscant is Haunted/"This is my only day off in weeks and you want me to help you commit a crime?"

Please enjoy! <3

--

Ever since Fox was a tubie he’s seen things that he shouldn’t have.

From Priest fight circles, to certain trainers sharing bunk with other trainers, to faint blue projections of fallen brothers.

It was the latter that always seemed to get him the most…interesting situations.

They knew things that no living vod did and it was something Fox coveted. The illusive knowledge. The inner workings of what went on behind the b’Kaminiise blank expressions.

It saved Fox a lot as a cadet, save his batchers, saved a lot of vode who might not have made it if it weren’t for his impossible knowledge.

All this to say, Fox was a little pissed that this fun ability of his was coming around to bite him in the shebs on his only day off in the last three months.

Some mir’sheb who went on an on about control chips in brains, the Chancellor being evil, and something about how Fox owed him for killing him.

Fox has never killed a vod so obviously this one was just saying absolutely anything to Fox’s attention. It was only working a little bit. Mostly because Fox’s day off tended to consist of staring at the bottom of Thorn’s bunk until something came to steal his attention.

Normally Quinlan.

Right now, it was this Fives mir’sheb.

“Un-kriffing-believable. I die for the good of vode everywhere and the only one who can see me is my killer and he can’t be assed to do osik besides stare at the bottom of a bunk. I bet he can’t even see me.” The blue Fives grumbled, trying (and failing) to kick at a dirty set of blacks Thire left on the floor like a heathen.

Fox sighed.

Whelp.

No one here to stop him from bad decisions.

“No offense, vod, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember killing a brother, so you’ll need to come up with new material to get my attention.”

Fox only got a moment to enjoy the look of Fives’ flabbers being gasted before his door slammed open with a delighted “Foxy!” echoing in the small space.

Oh good.

Quinlan was here.

In no time at all, the Jedi flopped on top of him and nuzzled into the slight stubble Fox couldn’t be assed to shave this morning, cooing at Fox’s deserved grumbles.

They both knew that Fox loved cuddles more than breathing.

It was the point of it all!

“Hey Foxy, my favorite clone in the history of clones, and my fluffy prickly menace to end all menaces.” Quinlan cooed, laying little kisses on Fox’s jaw and cheeks.

“What do you want, Quinlan? It’s my day off.”

“Oh, I know, baby. I thought we could go on a little date.”

Well that had the possibility of being interesting…

“What kind of date?” Fox was ignoring the spluttering blue vod like his life was in the balance, focusing instead on cool leatheris gloves pushing aside his kute to leave lingering trails like he was being paid to.

Fox pushed into the feeling and hummed as Quinlan started sucking determinedly on the juncture between neck and jaw, biting lightly so Fox could really feel it.

Sensing the mood, Fox let Quinlan do as he pleased, resting his own arms over the Jedi’s broad shoulders and just letting him do what he wanted.

It was better to wait him out at this point.

And the ministrations were delightful anyway.

Quinlan always did have the decency to make waiting a pleasure instead of a chore.

“What the kriff is going on? Commander Fox fucks?”

Fox stifled a laugh by burying his face into Quinlan’s gold adorned locs, smiling at the smell of rich hair oils and the tang of the metal clasps.

“The scrupulous kind of date.” Quinlan kissed both cheeks before leaning back and smiling brilliantly at Fox like he wasn’t just asking him out to do some less than legal activities. “One involving petty terms like accessory and accomplice and other things that may or may not apply to you depending on the courts.”

“This is my only day off in weeks and you want me to help you commit a crime?”

“Baby, I would ask your help to commit a crime any time. It’s just more fun when it’s your day off because you don’t put on your Commander persona and have a better time.” Quinlan pecked him on the lips with a smirk and Fox rolled his entire head at the Kiffar’s attempt to sweet talk him.

“You just get horny when you watch me take down the filth of the lower levels without worrying about not hurting them.” Fox deadpanned, pulling Quinlan closer as he laughed.

“Mmm. Your competence really does get me going, ankai’a.” Quinlan spoke against his lips and Fox groaned at the familiar pet name wiggling in his ears.

“I’m serious. Since when has the Commander of the Guard fucked? What reality am I living in? Is he a kriffing Jedi?!!”

“We might have a tag a long to our crimes, but he can’t say anything to anyone who will punish us.” Fox murmured into Quinlan’s mouth, groaning when his Jedi used the opportunity to swipe his tongue on the back of Fox’s teeth.

“Oh? New ghosty following you around?”

“Mmmm. Says his name is Fives and I killed him.”

Quinlan jerked back and looked at Fox with pupils blown wide.

“He’s a Force Ghost?!”

Fox furrowed his brows and cocked his head against the flat pillow.

“Yes? Did you know him?”

“Was he mentioning something about chips?”

“Yes?”

Quinlan cackled into the small bunk and even Ghost Fives was giving him a concerned stare. Fox wasn’t super worried. That was Quinlan’s “everything is lining up better than I hoped” cackle.

“Good! You can help me pick his brain on our way to our date!” Quinlan pulled Fox out of the bunk before darting to the clothes crate and winging some of Fox’s undercover clothes at him.

“Where are we going?”

“The underbelly of the Rotunda.”

“Why?” Fox shucked his blacks with little care to his voyeurs, slipping into an outfit similar to a senate aide, while pushing Quinlan for a little more information.

“Shaak questioned the Kaminiise about the so-called behavioral chips that they said malfunctioned to explain Fives and Tup, but I asked Obi and he said there was nothing in the contract he got from what’s-his-face about any behavioral chips. So, I’m going digging.”

Quinlan tied his locs up into a neat but lopsided updo, painted his lips a deep Corrie red, and covered his qukuuf with thick face paint.

It was almost as if the Jedi was used to sneaking into the Senate looking like an aide.

Fox nodded along for the most part, using black to paint his lips and varying make up shades to contour his face to look less like a clone.

Fives was watching this all with a dropped jaw and a gaping mouth.

“You’re going to catch flies.” Fox muttered to him, turning to face Quinlan so he could artfully tussle Fox’s hair to look more purposefully done. “Why are we digging in the Senate?”

“Well, the last being to see Fives before he went all aggressive and shit was the Chancellor so-” Fox cut Quinlan off with a deep kiss and a quick goose to his shebs before dancing out of the way of grabby hands.

“Say less, cyare. Any reason to finally get to kill the Chancellor is good enough for me.”

“I knew you’d see it my way!”

Quinlan wrapped an arm around Fox’s waist and strutted out the Command Barracks with a whistle, greeting Guards by name as he led Fox out into the streets of Coruscant.

Fives trailed behind them slowly.

“Seriously. What the fuck?”