#it’s okay to fail at things and to have to try again

[formulafanfics13]

Lactation kink/Nipple play for Landinhooo, pretty please?!

Wife has a clogged duct and tries a bunch of things to unclog it, but nothing works. Landinho, being the adorable and horny hubby he is does his research and finds out the best way to help his lady is to SUCK THEM TITTIES !

Needless to say things become pretty intense for the new parents (once the painful part is over) because both of them find great pleasure in this...ahem...activities 🥵 and ofc because it's them two, it's chaotic bc they are a fun and very unhinged couple. It's all giggles and moans with them😌

-🎀

liquid gold - LN4 🔥

Masterlist

summary: she’s a few weeks postpartum and nursing like a goddess, but a clogged duct brings tears to her eyes. her sweet, unhinged husband decides to do some very thorough research… and ends up discovering a new shared kink in the process. warnings: lactation kink, nipple play, breastfeeding mention, postpartum body worship, oral fixation, fingering, unprotected sex, mild overstimulation, softness and filth in equal measure, chaos, giggly smut, married reader, lando being lando

The pain was… fucking unbearable. A deep, swollen throb behind the left nipple. Like someone had tucked a marble under her skin and let it burn.

She winced through gritted teeth as she tried to massage the duct again, bent over in the worst fucking yoga pose of her life while a breast pump whirred pathetically next to her.

“Nope,” she hissed, tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “Still blocked. Still feels like death. Still hate my tits.”

Lando looked up from his phone with that soft, scrunched expression of concern that somehow made her want to cry and laugh and ride him all at once.

“Baby…” He stood from the couch, bare-chested in his baggy boxers, curls damp from a shower, eyes wide and gentle. “Are you sure you don’t wanna call the midwife? You’re in so much pain.”

“She’ll tell me the same shit. Hot compress. Massage. Feed on that side. Hang upside down and moo like a cow. I’ve done it all.” She whimpered, clutching the boob like it personally betrayed her. “It’s winning. I’m being defeated by my own left tit.”

Lando nodded solemnly like this was the greatest tragedy he’d ever witnessed. “Okay. Okay. Sit down. Drink some water. I’m gonna fix this. I got you, yeah?”

She blinked, suspicious. “What are you gonna do? You don’t even have tits.”

He gave her a cheeky little smirk and kissed her forehead. “No, but I’ve always loved yours. I consider myself something of a connoisseur.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, shoving at him playfully. “Don’t make this about your tit obsession.”

“I’m not! I’m not!” He ducked away from her smack, still grinning. “I’m gonna Google. I’ll only use the good sites, promise. No Reddit.”

She sighed, slumping onto the bed and cuddling their body pillow like it owed her rent. “Godspeed, Norris.”

Ten minutes later he returned with the most serious face imaginable, clutching his phone like it held the secrets of the universe. “So. I found something.”

She glanced up warily. “If it involves cabbage leaves, I’m divorcing you.”

“No! It’s like… it’s legit. Apparently if the baby can’t suck it out, the husband should try. Because grown-up mouths create more suction.”

She stared at him. “You want to suck the clog out of my boob.”

Lando shrugged like it was the most obvious solution in the world. “Yeah?”

She blinked. He grinned.

“Lan…”

“No no, think about it! I’m helpful. I’ve got a strong jaw. I can suction like a Dyson. I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

“That is not helpful.”

“You’re suffering. I’m horny. This is a win-win.”

She burst out laughing, half in pain, half in chaos. “You’re such a freak.”

His voice softened. “I’m serious though. If it helps, I’ll do it. You don’t have to pump again. You don’t have to cry anymore. Let me try, yeah? Just a little. I promise I won’t be weird.”

“You’re already being weird.”

“I’ll be sweet. I’ll be gentle. I’ll pretend I’m not enjoying it.”

“You’ll fail.”

“I will. Miserably.”

She giggled again, biting her lip, then exhaled slowly. The boob was throbbing. And she was exhausted. And maybe - just maybe - letting her absurd, nipple-obsessed husband try wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world. “…Fine.”

He blinked. “Wait, really?”

“You have one try.”

Lando lit up like a child at Christmas, crawling up the bed on his hands and knees with that unhinged little sparkle in his eyes. She rolled her eyes and tugged her shirt off. “Don’t look so smug. You haven’t done anything yet.”

“Oh, I’m about to do everything.”

“Lando…”

“Sorry sorry,” he grinned, settling beside her. “I’m focusing. Doctor mode.”

“You are not a doctor.”

“I got good fingers though.”

“Jesus Christ.”

He kissed her shoulder, then gently cupped the swollen breast with reverence, like it was sacred. It was sacred. Postpartum had made him soft and feral in equal measure, and there was something about the way he held her now that made her heart lurch.

“This one?” he whispered, brushing his thumb gently under the curve of her breast.

She nodded, already wincing. “Yeah. Inner side. About two inches from the nipple.”

He leaned forward and pressed a careful kiss to the spot. “You’re doing amazing.”

“I’m lying on a pillow half-naked while my husband prepares to suck the sadness out of my tit.”

“Exactly. A hero’s journey.”

She snorted, then flinched as another throb hit. “Alright, alright. Go on, Doctor Titty.”

Lando kissed her again, slow and sweet, then lowered his mouth to her nipple. His tongue was soft at first, warm and cautious, lapping at the base as his fingers gently massaged the swollen duct. When she didn’t hiss or smack him away, he wrapped his lips around her and began to suck. Firm. Deep. Focused.

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh.”

His eyes flicked up instantly. You okay?

She nodded quickly, a little breathless. “That actually… fuck, that feels good.”

He kept going. A little deeper now. Drawing more into his mouth, creating suction with the same dedication he probably used in the sim rig. His hand stroked her side, grounding her. His eyes never left hers. Then, after thirty seconds, she felt it. A sudden shift. Like a bubble popping. A rush of relief.

“Oh my god.” She gasped, grabbing his shoulder. “Lando. It’s working. Oh my god it’s actually working.”

He pulled back slightly, lips glistening, eyes wild. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m not stopping.”

He went back in, hungrier now, and something inside her cracked. Because the pain was gone. But the heat was still there. And his mouth on her nipple felt far too good. And she was leaking. And he was licking it up like it was his fucking job.

She moaned. Loud. Lando’s cock twitched against her thigh. He grinned around her tit.

“You’re enjoying this,” she panted.

He pulled off with a wet pop and looked way too pleased with himself. “You taste so good. It’s not my fault you’re like. A literal milk goddess.”

“Lando.”

“I wanna live here.”

“On my boob?”

“In your tits. Between them. Inside them. I’d shrink myself if I could.”

She laughed again, giddy and horny and overwhelmed. “You are so not normal.”

He just smirked, kissing across her chest, dragging his tongue slowly between her breasts, nuzzling the soft postpartum skin with a kind of reverent filth that made her squirm.

“You’re so hot,” he murmured, sucking a new bruise beneath her collarbone. “Like insane hot. Mum hot. Milk hot. Your body made our baby and it’s still turning me on so bad I might die.”

“You’re gonna fuck me over a tit massage.”

“Not unless you want me to.”

She did. So fucking badly. His hand slid down, teasing between her thighs. She was soaked. He groaned. “Fuck, baby.”

“I know.”

“You need me?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna ride?”

She nodded breathlessly.

He grinned. “Then hop on. Bring those magic tits with you.”

Riding Lando post-birth was different. Slower. Softer. Deeper. Her hips rolled like honey, dripping and lazy, every drag of his cock making her whimper as her body adjusted. He sat up underneath her, arms locked around her waist, mouth still latched to her tit like a man possessed. It was filthy. Sensual. Somehow healing.

“Fuck, I love you,” he mumbled against her skin, sucking a little harder until she moaned. “You’re so perfect. So soft. So sweet.”

She clutched his curls and rocked harder, bouncing slightly, her other breast leaking milk across his chest.

He gasped. “Oh my god.”

She laughed through a moan. “That turn you on?”

“Are you kidding? I’m obsessed.”

He dragged his tongue through the mess, groaning at the taste, and she nearly collapsed from the feeling of it all. His cock hitting deep. His mouth at her chest. The heat. The closeness. The chaos.

“Lan… I’m gonna come.”

“Then do it.”

“You’re so fucking filthy.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

He grinned up at her, cheeks flushed, lips shiny. “Then come all over my cock, sweet girl. I’ll hold your tits after. Kiss them better. Help you fall asleep.”

“Jesus Christ.”

She came hard, eyes fluttering, head thrown back, milk dripping down her stomach as Lando fucked up into her like she was the center of the universe. She barely noticed when he came seconds later, growling into her breast, one hand tugging her closer, the other cupping her boob like it was his entire religion.

They collapsed in a tangled, sticky heap, limbs heavy and trembling, the bed a battlefield of sweat, milk, and love.

He nuzzled into her neck, panting. “I think we just discovered a new hobby.”

She laughed weakly. “Lactation?”

“Yeah.”

“Figures. You’ve always been obsessed with tits.”

He kissed her jaw. “Not just any tits. Yours.”

She rolled her eyes, still breathless. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m your ridiculous husband. With a milk addiction.”

“You’re a menace.”

“I’m gonna suck them again tomorrow.”

“Only if you make breakfast.”

“I’ll bring it to bed.”

“With a side of tit?”

“Always.”

[elleaitch22]

Chapter 13:

❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️

Week 23:

Azzi spent four days in the hospital after the accident. Because of her uterine irritability, she had a few contractions the night after the accident, so Liv kept her a couple more days to make sure she wasn’t going into preterm labor.

Azzi was a little miserable. She had a moderate concussion, so all she wanted to do was sleep. The entire left side of her body was a big, ugly bruise. Her arm was broken in three spots, but since it was so swollen, she was still in a soft cast. And she had a bad contusion on her hip that made it hurt to move her leg.

Liv strongly advised for her to use a wheelchair for at least the next three weeks.

“The contusion coupled with your belly concerns me because your center of gravity is completely off.”

Paige nodded while Azzi was left to roll her eyes and pout from her hospital bed – they refused to discharge her until she agreed to use the wheelchair.

She was also on strict bed rest: bed, bathroom, bed.

The one plus to all of this was that Paige was able to take the next eight shifts off, so Azzi had her all to herself for the next twenty-four days.

The blonde waited on Azzi hand and foot since the moment she walked in her room the day of the accident.

Azzi wasn’t sure if she’d made it up or if Paige really cried outside her room because she loved her so much.

It didn’t matter anyway. Azzi could see how in love her best friend was with how she cared for her.

Paige established a routine immediately.

She doordashed all of her favorites. One morning it was two blueberry bagels topped with dill pickles, cream cheese, and turkey bacon. Another day she brought oatmeal, honey, kimchi, chicken sausage, and almond butter. Even though she hated it, she added peanut butter and salt and vinegar chips to a bowl of scrambled eggs.

When the morning nurse brought Azzi her meds and saw the cinnamon bagel loaded with cream cheese, strawberries, and cool ranch doritos, she grimaced. “I don’t think you should be eating those things; it may not be the best for the babies.”

Paige gave her the dirtiest look she could muster with a cold, “If we wanted your advice on her food, we would’ve asked.”

The nurse left the room with a quick apology.

“She’s just doing her job, Paige. In her defense, this is just carbs, fats, and a couple slices of fruit.” Azzi said sheepishly.

Blue eyes rolled. “Well, I don’t like how she implied you don’t know what you should be doing for the twins.”

“She’s right though. I probably need more vegetables.”

Azzi looked at her delicious breakfast with sad eyes, and Paige was tempted to find that nurse and make her apologize to her.

“It’s okay, Mama. I have cucumbers and hot sauce for your snack today.”

After breakfast, Azzi’s eyelids grew heavy, the concussion pulling her back under. She barely noticed Paige clearing away plates or straightening the IV line, but the warmth of lips on her forehead lingered even as she drifted to sleep.

She usually woke up around ten, which is when Paige would carry her to the bathroom give her a quick bath, making sure that she wasn’t putting any weight on her left side and that her cast stayed dry.

Paige’s fingers fumbled the braid, strands slipping free, but she kept trying. Azzi watched in the mirror, not the braid, but the look on Paige’s face – brow furrowed, tongue poking out just slightly. She’d never seen anyone work so hard to get something so small right, just for her.

After failing at braiding Azzi’s hair (again), the blonde would eventually pull the dark curls into a high bun with a sad smile. “I’m gonna get it eventually. I promise.”

At some point before lunch time, Azzi would start crying silently. The hospital had shitty blinds and let in too much light, and after hours of being awake, her headache worsened. On the first day, Paige sprinted to the gift shop to buy one of those overpriced satin eye masks.

Then, Azzi started crying because she wasn’t allowed to read, which was her favorite way to relax. Paige downloaded the last book she’d seen Azzi read. The brunette was content to listen to the low voice read The Headmistress aloud.

For lunch, Azzi ate the same thing all four days. After being guilted into eating more vegetables by the nurses, she asked Katie to make a pesto bake topped with arugula, pickled red onions, tomatoes, collard greens, and pineapples. Katie added a hot honey dressing to the side. She grimaced watching Azzi eat it every day.

When the medication wore off, but it wasn’t time for more meds, tears filled brown eyes. Paige fed her ice chips and brought fresh ice packs to soothe the pain in her hip and leg. When she adjusted the ice pack against Azzi’s hip, her jaw would tighten as if she could absorb the pain herself.

“Tell me if it’s too cold,” she murmured, even though Azzi’s flinch had already told her everything.

When the nurses came in with more meds, Azzi was always left laughing.

“You’re glaring at the nurse again,” She teased, voice soft and groggy.

“She deserved it,” Paige said without missing a beat, tucking the blanket around Azzi’s shoulders like a scolded queen.

She fussed over pillows, blankets, and lights. She pressed a soft kiss into Azzi’s forehead whenever she had to leave the room. She spoke lowly to the babies and kissed wherever they kicked.

Through all of this, Azzi wondered how long Paige had really been in love with her. Her feelings were all over the care she put into anything that had to do with Azzi.

Every time Paige leaned close to brush crumbs from her hospital gown or whispered something to Bean and Bear, Azzi’s throat tightened. She wanted to say, “I see you. I see how you love me.” But she wasn’t sure if the words would ruin the balance happening between them.

Every night when Paige wrapped herself around Azzi, words were caught in her throat. She wanted to tell her that she loved her, that she loved living with her, and that she loved how well she took care of her. But the words never came, never made sense.

So, in between her naps, she vowed to find a way to show Paige, to tell her how in love she was.

❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️

A/N: Here's the first fluffy part! I still have two, maybe three more scenes to write. So it'll be four or five total! I hope you loved it! xx Elle

[cowboybeepboop]

Interview

"I want you so badly it hurts,"

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5k

Summary: You meet Clark while working for the “Justice Gang” and after your first date, things get a tad steamy. 

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, and oral (f&m receiving) sex

a/n: Per usual, if you have any requests, send them my way! I hope you enjoy <3 also I based this on the 2025 superman movie, that's why they're called the justice gang

Luck has never been on your side.

It got worse in university, with failed relationships following failed classes. Nothing ever seemed to go *just* right. 

You don’t know when this bad luck truly started, but strangely, what ended it is fucking Guy Gardener? 

He found your resume and decided that the “Justice Gang”, or more over, THE Green Lantern, needed an assistant. You get decent pay and decent hours, spending most of your time running around doing small tasks for them.

There’s not really much an ordinary human can do to help a bunch of superheroes fight crime or aliens or supervillains, honestly, the list goes on. But you are *not* going to fail at this job, that is one thing you know for sure. 

That’s why you set up this interview with Clark Kent, the man who writes about Superman. Of course, he’s written about your bosses before, but no one has ever interviewed them to get to know them. 

“Coffee, everyone!!” You walk into the building holding a carrier filled with drinks, a sweet grin on your face as you set them on the table. Taking a deep breath, the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee fills the air and your nostrils. 

The Justice Gang's headquarters buzzes with energy, even when the heroes are off-duty. As the last of the drinks is claimed, you notice Clark Kent lingering by the door, notebook and pen in hand. 

"Hi!" You wave at him while walking in his direction. "You must be Clark, I'm Y/N, we spoke on the phone." You offer your hand for him to shake. Clark is taken off guard by your remembering his name. He takes your hand and shakes it, a little surprised.

"Uh, yeah, that’s right. Clark Kent. Reporter." He says, nodding. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he mentally cringes at his awkward self-introduction.

You giggle softly, trying to lighten the awkwardness. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Kent." 

Clark gives you a soft smile, appreciating your attempt to ease the awkwardness. "Please, just call me Clark," he replies, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment before he glances away. 

He can feel his heart rate increase slightly, an almost unnoticeable change. Clark clears his throat before speaking again. "So, shall we get to the interview?"

"That sounds perfect!" Your grin widens, "Although, since you are a little bit early, I'll show you around headquarters. Guy tends to be a little grumpy in the morning." 

Clark chuckles lightly, his expression lighting at your words. "I can only imagine," he says, returning your smile. "Lead the way." 

He follows you as you start to give him a tour of the headquarters. Clark takes in every detail, his reporter instincts taking over as he imagines the various articles he could write about the Justice Gang and their headquarters.

You show him around the whole building, explaining to him your knowledge of the rooms, before long, you're back in the main room with the heroes. "Okay, who is up first?" 

Once the interviews concluded, Clark finds his way back to you, stopping just in front of your desk. 

He waits for you to look at him before speaking. His eyes meet yours, and you can't help but notice the way his gaze softens and how his lips quirk into a small smile. He clears his throat and speaks up. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," you smile, standing from your seat. "What's up?"

He glances around for a moment, as if making sure no one is listening in on their conversation, before he hesitantly takes a small step closer to you. "Um, could we talk in private for a minute?" He asks, his voice dropping to a quiet tone.

You nod, curious about what he wants to talk about in private. "Sure," you reply, gesturing for him to follow you. You head towards an empty meeting room not far from your desk and invite him inside. 

Once the doors close, the noise from the rest of the building fades away, leaving you and Clark alone in the room. You turn to him expectantly.

The room feels a lot more intimate now that it's just the two of you. Clark glances around the room, taking in the sparse furnishings, before turning his gaze back to you. There's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, like he's a bit unsure of how to say what he needs to say.

"Can I ask you something... personal?" He says, his voice quieting even further.

"Personal?" You take a seat on the edge of the desk, "As long as it's off the record." You tease, trying to ease tensions. 

Clark lets out a small, almost nervous chuckle, appreciating your attempt to lighten the mood. 

"Right, off the record," he nods, clearing his throat again. He rubs the back of his neck with one hand, a habit you've noticed he does when he's feeling particularly restless. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking again. 

"It's a bit personal, but... I've been wondering..." He starts, his voice dropping to a quieter tone. "Are you...currently dating anyone?"

"Are you intending to ask me on a date, Mr. Clark Kent?" Your grin widens as you hop off the desk, striding over to him. 

Clark's cheeks flush slightly at your words, caught off guard by your forwardness. He takes a half-step backward, leaning against the wall for support, his composure momentarily thrown. "I, um... well..." he stammers, stumbling over his words. 

He's clearly flustered, which you can't help but find adorable. After a few moments, he finally manages to regain his composure and meet your gaze. He gives you a small, sheepish smile. "...Maybe," he admits, his voice sounding a little uncertain.

"I would love that." Your eyes shine as you crane your neck to look up at him. 

Clark's expression brightens at your affirmative response, the uncertainty in his eyes replaced with a mix of relief and excitement. He looks down at you, his gaze softening as he takes in your features. 

"Really?" he asks, his voice just above a whisper. There's a hint of disbelief in his tone, as if he wasn't expecting you'd say yes. He takes a step closer, shrinking the distance between the two of you.

Clark can feel his heart pounding in his chest at the feeling of your hand on his arm. He can't believe that you're actually agreeing to go out with him. 

"Tonight?" he repeats, a hint of surprise in his voice. He quickly regains his composure, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, um, I'm free. Tonight... sounds great." 

He glances down at your hand on his arm, his gaze lingering for a moment before returning to your face.

"Perfect, pick me up here at 6." You pat his shoulder gently before returning to your desk. 

Clark watches you walk away, his gaze following after you until you reach your desk. He can still feel the heat from where your hand had been on his arm, his skin tingles at the memory of your touch.

He takes a deep breath, his chest swelling with excitement and anticipation. 6pm couldn't come soon enough. He gathers his things and heads out, mentally preparing himself for your date.

You find yourself watching the clock, eyes shifting between things in the room and the time. There’s just something about Clark that has you impatient to spend more time with him, but you can’t quite place what it is. 

“So, you’re going on a date with the reporter?” Guy leans over the table, eyes locked on you with his arrogant smile plastered on. 

“How did you figure that one out?” You reply, taking a sip from your mug. 

“Intuition,” His grin grows wider, “We’ve gotta get you dolled up!” Guy has always been, well. Guy. And apparently that means being focused on your date. 

The team spent the entire day “prepping” you for your dinner with Clark, although you didn’t exactly need any help. By the time he arrives to pick you up you’re beyond exhausted from the superheroes. 

“Thank heaven,” you murmur as you head out the door and straight for Clark. 

Clark is waiting by the curb, his hands shoved in his pockets as he leans against his car. He looks up as you approach, his gaze taking in your appearance. He straightens up, a smile growing on his face as he takes a step towards you. 

"Wow..." he breathes out, his eyes still taking in every detail. "You look stunning." He offers you his arm, opening the passenger door for you.

"You don't look half bad yourself," you tease while sliding into the seat. 

Clark chuckles softly, a hint of bashfulness in his expression as he shuts the door behind you before making his way to the driver's side. He gets in and starts the car, his eyes catching your gaze for just a moment before shifting back onto the road.

"So, I hope you don't mind, but I kind of already have our evening... planned out." He says, a hint of sheepishness in his tone.

"I love that," Kent planning out the whole evening for both of you, just shows how equally excited he is for the night. 

He smiles, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he glances over at you. "I did my research," he says with a hint of pride. 

He starts to drive, navigating the streets with ease. The evening sky is already beginning to darken, the setting sun casting a warm glow across the horizon. 

Clark steals another glance at you, his gaze lingering on your profile for a moment before returning to the road. "I hope you're hungry," he says, a small teasing hint in his tone.

The date went by in a blur, the hours flying by without you realizing it. As the two of you arrive back at your apartment, there's a sense of reluctance between the two of you. Neither of you wants the night to end, but the reality is that it has to eventually.

Kent pulls the car to a stop outside your place, and the two of you sit in silence for a moment, both of you trying to think of an excuse to prolong the evening even more.

You turn to face him, small pout on your lips. "Clark.." 

The pout on your lips makes Clark's heart skip a beat. It's a sight he hopes to see again, over and over. He turns to face you fully, one hand still resting on the steering wheel. "Yes...?" He prompts, his gaze locked on your face, drinking in every detail.

"Come up with me." You reach for his hand, placing a small kiss on his knuckles. "We could watch another movie, talk some more, anything..."

Clark feels a stirring inside him as you kiss his knuckles. Your words and the soft touch make his heart skip another beat, the thought of spending more time with you too enticing to resist. 

"I can't think of anything I'd rather do," he replies, his voice quieter than before. He squeezes your hand gently before he unbuckles his seat belt. "Lead the way."

You excitedly lead him up the stairs to your door, quickly unlocking it, then pulling him inside. "It's not much, but it's what I have for now." You awkwardly show him around the small apartment before pulling him to the couch.

The cramped surroundings are a stark contrast to his spacious penthouse, but he finds comfort in the simplicity and intimacy it offers. 

He takes a seat beside you on the couch, leaving some space between you. "It's cute," he says with a warm smile, his eyes glancing around. Despite the small size, it feels like a home, filled with your presence.

"Thank you," you giggle, scooting closer to him as you reach for the remote. 

Clark unconsciously shifts a bit closer as you scoot closer, his proximity to you now only inches apart. He can almost feel the heat radiating off of you, sending a shiver down his spine. He watches as you grab the remote, his gaze lingering on the way your hand holds the device. 

He clears his throat, shaking away those thoughts. "So... what do you want to watch?" he asks, his voice slightly huskier than before.

"Hmm," You bite on your lip, trying to think of what to turn on. "I'm not sure, what do you think we should watch?" Facing him, your eyes focus on his side profile. His slight blush, strong jaw, bright blue eyes, you gulp as your heart starts to race.

Clark can feel your gaze on him, the intensity of your stare making his heart beat faster. Your proximity combined with the way you're looking at him makes it hard for him to think straight. He turns to face you fully, his eyes locking with yours.

"I, uh..." he starts, his voice coming out a bit breathless. He's distracted, his brain unable to focus on the question at hand. He glances down at your lips, his gaze lingering for a moment before he forces himself to look back up at your eyes.

You accidentally drop the remote, snapping both of you out of your trances. "Uh, is a comedy movie okay?" you murmur while picking it back up. 

"Comedy? Yeah, yeah, that's fine," Clark nods, clearing his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the daze he was in. 

He leans back against the couch, watching as you start setting up the movie. His gaze drifts over your form, taking in the curves of your body, the way your hair falls over your face. He wonders if you're aware of the effect you have on him.

You flip through Netflix, finding one to quickly put on, tension heavy in the air. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna change into something less stiff." You say, motioning to the outfit you're in. 

"Right, yeah. Go ahead." Clark nods, his eyes following your every move as you get up from the couch. He can't help but watch you walk away, his gaze lingering on your figure until you disappear into your bedroom. 

He lets out a low breath, trying to compose himself. Being alone in your apartment, in your space, is wreaking havoc on his senses. He finds himself adjusting the crotch of his slacks, which has started to grow uncomfortably tight.

Slipping out of your work clothes and into an oversized t-shirt, you half debate on leaving your bra on, but the wire has been digging into you for the past half hour, so the choice is obvious. 

You take a second to gather your mind, standing with your hand on the doorknob. With one last deep breath, you step back out, settling onto the couch next to Clark once again. 

As you return to the couch, Clark's gaze is immediately drawn to you. The change in attire, the oversized shirt that hangs off one shoulder, the absence of a bra underneath... it all hits him like a ton of bricks. His throat dries up, and he has to swallow hard to keep his composure.

His eyes rake over your form, taking in every detail. His gaze is a mix of lust and admiration, a burning hunger behind his otherwise gentle eyes.

"I hope your clothes aren't too uncomfy," You say while pulling your knees up to your chest, resting your head against his shoulder, eyes focused on the tv.

Clark can feel your head press against his shoulder, a wave of heat coursing through him at the closeness. The scent of your perfume is almost intoxicating, filling his senses. He's hyper-aware of the way your body is pressed against his, every nerve in his body on edge. 

"No," he replies, his voice coming out a bit hoarse. He shifts slightly on the couch, his pants feeling tighter than before. "I'm comfortable."

"I'm glad," you nuzzle into his side, finding his scent and warmth inviting. "I want to be a good host, so if you need anything, just let me know!"

Clark can hardly think with you pressed against him like this, your body so close he can feel the heat radiating off of you. He wants to touch you, to pull you into his lap and feel your body against his. But he manages to resist, his hands clenching into fists to keep from roaming over you.

"You're doing great," he replies, his voice still a bit huskier than usual. "I don't need anything." Except you, his mind adds. Your hand falls to his thigh, body fitting perfectly in the side of his as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. 

The moment you place your hand on his thigh, Clark's breath hitches, his entire body tensing at the sensation. The way you fit perfectly against him isn't helping the situation in his pants. His arm around you tightens, pulling you even closer to him. 

He can feel the heat radiating off of you, can smell the scent of your hair, mixed with his cologne. It's an intoxicating combination. He has to fight the urge to bury his face into your hair.

You pick up on the tension in his body, the bulge in his slacks. "Clark," Your voice is soft and hesitant as you let your hand slide up his leg. 

Clark's breath hitches in his throat as your hand moves up his leg. It takes all of his willpower not to buck his hips up into your touch. He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes flicking to your face as you say his name. 

"Yes...?" he manages to get out, his voice even huskier than before. The tension in his body grows tenfold, a coiled spring wound tight and ready to snap.

Your hand slides even further up, you pause for a second, eyes locking with his before continuing. "I want you." Your palm brushes against his bulge, pressing into him softly as your lips tease his neck. 

Kent's mind goes blank the moment your hand brushes against him, and as you press your lips against his neck, he can no longer hold back. He lets out a guttural moan, his hand coming up to grip your chin, tilting your face up to his.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he growls, his voice thick with need. His eyes darken with desire, his body trembling with the effort it takes to keep himself from pouncing on you right then and there.

You press your lips to his, fingers fumbling with his belt, then his button and zipper. You're desperate to touch him, to please him, and your hand wraps around his dick. A moan escapes your lips at the size and feel of it against your skin.  

Clark's head falls back as you rain kisses down on him, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as you touch him. The sensations are overwhelming, his mind consumed by nothing but you and your touch. 

He's lost in a haze of desire, his body responding to every movement of your hand, his back arching off the couch as he moans your name. "Y/N, please," he gasps, his eyes locked on yours, dark with need. "I need you," he pleads.

Sliding off his lap, you settle between his legs, press a soft kiss to the tip of his length. Eyes taking in the sheer size of it. "Fuck Clark.. You're huge..." 

His brain short-circuits at your words, the sight of you between his legs, and the feel of your soft kiss nearly undoing him completely. He can only manage a strangled groan, his hips bucking forward involuntarily at the touch. 

"Y/N... sweetheart," he repeats, his voice thick with need. "I want you so badly it hurts," he admits.

Your lips wrap around the head, tongue swirling around it as you look up at him. Watching as he grips the arm of the couch and slightly pushes his hips into your mouth. 

The sight of you looking up at him, your lips wrapped around him, has him teetering on the edge, his control slipping away more with every passing second. He can barely think straight, his brain fogged with the intoxicating mix of need and desire that is you. 

"Y/N...oh, sweetheart...," he gasps, his hand coming up to grip the back of your head, holding you in place. A moan slips out of your stuffed mouth, and Clark's mind spins as the vibrations from your moan send waves of pleasure coursing through him. 

He's lost in a sea of sensation, his hold on your head tightening as he tries to regain a sliver of control. The faster you go, the more he moans, the nosies are becoming whiny and needy. He's at your mercy, completely undone by your touch and your desire.

Every moan and whimper from him is like a bolt of electricity, driving you insane. You can feel the tension building in his body, the desperation growing with every move you make. His hand on the back of your head tightens, his fingers tangling in your hair. 

"Please...please," he gasps, the pleading in his voice driving you wild. "I need you. I need you so bad. Please, don't stop," he begs, his body arching towards you. 

You can tell he’s close, so fucking close. 

Your hand cups his balls, gently squeezing them as you push as much of his dick into your mouth as you can, gagging on it with more length still left. His breathing grows erratic, his body trembling from the pleasure you're lavishing on him. 

The sight of you looking up at him, tears glistening in your eyes, and you barely being able to take him all. He can't tear his gaze away, his eyes locked on yours, completely captivated. 

His other hand grips one of the handles on the side of the couch with a force that he needs to be careful not to break. But as he cums, his resolve breaks, along with the arm of the couch. 

You stand quickly, eyes wide as you wipe the drool from your chin, swallowing the liquid in your mouth. “Woah…” you murmur, looking at the damage caused. “You’re strong… like *really* strong.” 

Clark's face goes pale, the realization of what just happened sinking in. He glances at the damaged couch, the broken arm a stark reminder of his superhuman strength that he has to constantly be careful of. 

"I...I'm sorry," he finally stutters out, his voice hoarse with shame. "I didn't mean to..." he tries to explain, but his words are still stumbling over themselves. 

He looks at the damaged couch again, his eyes falling back to you. He hates himself for losing control, for potentially scaring you.

You shake your head, walking over to him and cupping his face. "It's okay baby I promise," You press a soft kiss to his lips, barely being able to even on your tippy toes. 

His heart flutters at the nickname, your words and kiss helping ease his embarrassment. He instinctively wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him, needing a bit of your comfort. 

"But the couch.." he murmurs, glancing sheepishly at the broken piece of furniture.

"We can worry about that later," You hop up, legs wrapping around his waist as his arms support you. 

He lets out a soft chuckle, pulling you closer. He tightens his arms around you, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. 

"So demanding," he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He starts to walk towards your bedroom, carrying you effortlessly. Once inside he lays you down gently on the bed, Clark takes his time taking your shirt off, savoring the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

His gaze roams over your newly exposed skin, his eyes taking in every inch. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his hand moving to gently touch the curve of your waist. 

He follows the path of his hand with his lips, placing soft but desperate kisses along your stomach. You moan at the sensation, goosebumps raising on your skin. “Clark…” your voice comes out as a whine.

The sound of you moaning his name has an immediate effect on him, the desire and need igniting within him again. He presses more kisses to your skin, his lips moving lower, inch by inch, until he reaches your hipbone. 

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, looking up at you with lust. His lips against you makes you squirm, moaning and whimpering beneath his touch. "Clark, don't tease me..." 

The sounds that you make drive him wild, his self-restraint wearing thin. He pulls away, just slightly, and looks up at your flushed face. 

"But you make the cutest noises," he murmurs, his voice thick with need. "I want to hear them all, sweetheart." His lips find a sensitive spot on your inner thigh, and he sucks on it lightly, leaving a mark. 

"All night long." He finally pulls your panties down, exposing your pulsing cunt to the air. With a groan of pure desire, Clark lowers himself between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze is filled with a fiery hunger that sends shivers down your spine. 

His breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel the tip of his tongue ghosting over your pussy, teasing your clit with feather-light flicks before he dives in, licking and sucking with a ferocity that matches the pounding in your chest. 

Your legs instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your hips buck against his mouth. Your moans and whimpers fill the room, echoing off the walls as he devours you. 

His tongue slides into your wetness, exploring every inch, as his fingers dance around the sensitive bud of your clit. The intensity builds, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you until you're trembling on the edge of an orgasm so powerful, it feels like it could break you. 

Clark senses it and doubles his efforts, his tongue curling inside you, pushing you over the precipice and into a sea of ecstasy. Your body convulses under him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you cry out his name, your orgasm so intense it feels like it could shatter you into a million pieces.

But he's there to catch you, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight as you ride out the waves of pleasure. He kisses his way back up your body, his own need now palpable, his cock straining against his pants. 

You reach down to free him, once again, stroking him gently, your eyes never leaving his. With a growl of pure need, Clark enters you, filling you in one powerful thrust. 

Your bodies move in perfect harmony, the passion between you an unstoppable force. Each thrust is met with a moan, each touch a spark of fire that ignites your skin. The room spins as you climb higher, your eyes locked with his, his every move a declaration of his desire for you. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling him hit that spot that sends shockwaves through your body. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, along with your moans and his grunts of effort.

Your nails dig into his back as he fucks you with an intensity that steals your breath away. The bed frame creaks with each powerful thrust, the headboard slamming against the wall in a steady rhythm that matches your racing heart. 

The pleasure is unbearable, your body begging for more as he hits that perfect spot over and over again. "Clark, harder," you whimper, your voice lost in the symphony of passion. He obliges, his strokes growing deeper and faster. 

You're so close, so fucking close, your orgasm just out of reach. Then, with a sudden shift, he pulls out, leaving you gasping. Before you can protest, he flips you over, your hands planted on the mattress to support your weight. 

You’re now straddling his hips and sliding down onto his cock. The sensation of him filling you up again sends a fresh wave of pleasure through your core. 

Now it's your turn to set the pace, your hips rocking against him as you ride him like a wild animal. His hands grip your waist, guiding you, urging you faster, his eyes never leaving yours. 

The feeling of power is intoxicating, the way he watches you with a mix of admiration and lust making your head spin. Each movement is a silent declaration of your desire, your body speaking a language of passion that needs no words.

 His dick hits that spot with every bounce, sending jolts of pleasure through your body that make your toes curl. Your moans become cries, your breaths ragged as you feel your climax approaching. 

“Please, please,” you whine, begging him to take over once again. He complies, bucking his hips upwards into you, your fingers dig into his shoulders. Your cunt squeezes around him, begging to be filled even more. 

“Just like that…” your words come out slurred and needy, “more.. Right there…” You’re practically chanting at this point as he keeps going. 

“Move with me,” He demands, his hands on your waist guiding them as he fucks up into you. You do as he says, rocking your hips against his even though it’s becoming too much. “Good girl.” 

You cry out as you finish, pulsing around his cock as he fills you up with his cum. Both of you are left panting. He lifts you off of him, gently and carefully holding you against his chest. He carries you to the bathroom, preparing a bath for the two of you to share.

[luvmailing]

us against the world, just me 'n you !

「 tws + notes: unedited, probably ooc, cw: toxic relationship with lex (because... it's lex), yes that's a lana ref in the title im sorry y'all, is this giving 2012 mcu fandom? 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. my sweethearts + one stinky poopy head

aka: clark kent, guy gardner, lex luthor (stinky poopy head in question), lois lane, michael holt

author's note: superman (2025) movie was fire. here's some hcs that i brewed up,, jus u being close with these characters, friendship or otherwise. had to get a little evil abt lex. becuz. >:] some are shorter than the others! this is because. um mmm ummhh uhhh..... :'> i tried and i failed. specifically kendra which SUCKZZ but MY BRAIN JUICE!! HELP!!!!! anyways this post is split for your convenience becuz otherwise it's too GatDamnb long </3 see part two for more characters!!

CLARK KENT

▸ please tolerate his awful music taste. he wants to make playlists for you :[ !! and really, it's not that bad but like. dude c'mon stop trying to sneak the mighty crabjoys in.

he always makes the title of the playlist a random inside joke the two of you have and makes sure to add you as a collaborator. plays it on shuffle whenever you're hanging out

▸ his parents love you. you aren't leaving that place until the kents make sure you are well fed and taken care of.

you absolutely WILL have the best apple crumble you've ever had after being invited to dinner, and yes, ma kent will insist you have second plate.

clark will always be there to politely decline for you (or eat it) if you don't want.

they adore you! always asking clark when his "polite little friend" can come over again.

▸ gently harassing clark is good for enrichment. yours or his? who cares! there's something about you that makes him wanna be playful too. his form of being silly includes taking sips of your drinks when you aren't looking though. guard your snacks too.

of course, you have your own ways to messing with him. hiding his stuff, flooding his camera roll with selfies of you (and less than flattering photos of him with the 0.5 zoom), etc...

he does seem to panic extra when you try to remove his glasses. so maybe not that. huh. odd.

GUY GARDNER

▸ going yap4yap with this man. explain whatever is going on in your head, your latest obsession, your new interest or hobby, a rabbit hole you fell down while sleep deprived, and he'l listen.

depending on what you're talking about, he may or may not get why you like it, but at least he tries.

expect lots of lore dumps about general glory comics though.

"an' they retconned this backstory for ernie the battling boy. for this shit! trash, i'm telling you, the modern interpretation is trash—"

he's got big feelings about comics okay.

hey is this metacommentary? in MY headcanons about guy gardner specifically? idk what ur talking abt lol...

▸ using his oath as an excuse to do things he doesn't wanna do is funny.

using his oath as an excuse to force you to accept his help? even funnier. he likes being a hero. and being your hero specifically? that's the best feeling in the world for him.

"guy!" you yelp, as he unceremoniously hoists you up by your thighs. you had been trying to reach something just out of grasp, but the minute guy saw you struggling, he knew he had to do something. and that something was obviously lifting you without warning. "forget grabbin' the stepstool, sweetstuff. you got a big, strong hero at your service."

▸ massive sweet tooth. always down for getting a sweet treat with you. he'll suggest it and make it seem like your idea, just so he can say,

"...you're paying right?"

LEX LUTHOR

▸ will leave you on read for literal weeks and months. somehow doesn't see it as hypocritical when he gets catty about your response times, even if it was only a few hours.

he's always saying shit like:

"i'm a busy man. i thought you'd understand that."

but when it's you replying late?

"i expect you to at least answer when i message. it's the least you could do to show me you value this relationship."

DIVA STFUUUU

▸ this man does NOT apologize. it's not his style.

lex belittles or buys his way out of things. he either makes you think you were in the wrong or just buys you something nice and expensive to quell your anger.

has 100% e-transferred you 2k just so you would stop being mad at him.

▸ that being said though, this man does have taste. lex insists that since you're seen with him so often, you gotta look nice. he takes care of your wardrobe. and it gets you crazy amounts compliments.

he's very good at picking things you'd look good in which suit your personal style. he might be neglectful, manipulative, and downright cruel to you sometimes... but damn, lex is attentive.

he stands at your side, a hand on your hip. someone has complimented you again, as the both of you have become accustomed to at this point. lex clears his throat, smiling at you as if telling you, "that's your cue." "...thanks," you reply to the person, "lex got it for me."

LOIS LANE

▸ inside joke: asking her "is this off the record?" when you're gossiping.

to which she'll reply, "only if you say it beforehand. which you didn't. this exposé is going to be scathing."

▸ always sending you random voice messages. it'll be three am in the morning and she'll go,

"how many p's in therapist again?"

could she just search it up? yeah. but she wants an excuse to talk to you.

but dyslexic lois hc my beloved. i struggle with numbers so i'd totally end up screenshotting stuff with big numbers like "say this out loud for me please? :("

▸ imagine sharing old photos with her ohh mygoshhh,,,,

lois has shown you pictures of herself she thought she would take to her GRAVE. mostly from middle school and high school. in the spirit of being fair, you've also shown her yourself at your most awkward stages.

"...actually, you know what?" she holds up the pictures of your younger selves beside each other. lois' squints at them thoughtfully. "what?" "i think we would've gotten along."

MICHAEL HOLT

▸ the better playlist maker (sorry clark)

he enjoys the technical aspect of the stuff that he listens to and favours pieces that are the most complex musically.

given that he has an ear for these things, he's good at identifying the patterns in the music that you tend to gravitate to.

burns the playlist on a CD. it contains some are your favourites that you never tire of, some reccomendations from him, and it's ALWAYS absolute bangers.

▸ is it a headcanon if it's technically canon?

the best person to have around during sick days. always there to assure you that, no, you're not dying from the minor cold.

take the medicine, rest, and don't fight him on this. michael has 14 phds for a reason.

he will cave if you're asking for him to cuddle. of course, he's aware of the transmission risks, but something about you being all sniffly does something to him.

lets you rest your head against his chest while you nap :]

▸ locked in 24/7. superhero stuff, being THE mr. terrific... it makes for some really odd hangout times.

that being said, he will always try to make time for you. ass crack of dawn or middle of the night, i fear. very apologetic about ruining your sleep schedule, but always happy to spend time with you.

he's more relaxed in these moments, you notice. open to being soft with you. rests his head on your shoulder. rubs the back of your hand with his thumb when your fingers are intertwined. plants kisses to your temple ocassionally. it's his favourite place to kiss :(

— reblogs always appreciated!

[bbyg4rl]

jj having to change your pad for you . . .

cw: clingy!boyfriend!jj x reader, FLUFF/COMFORT, mentions of period blood, reader is in debilitating pain.

a/n: there’s mentions of period blood, and blood on jj’s hands in this, as someone who goes thru horrible cramps that leave me immobile half the time, smth like this would rly help, but i understand if you find it gross! pls dont read it if you’re going to be negative <3

You didn’t even hear him come in. The pain was too much. Wave after wave of sharp, tearing cramps that left you gasping, shaking, crying. You were curled on your side, drenched in sweat, trying so hard not to sob out loud but failing as it broke out of you anyway. JJ’s voice dropped in a heartbeat��soft and worried. “Hey, What’s wrong? Baby, talk to me.”

You tried, but another cramp hit so hard all you could do was sob. “My period,” you finally choked out, your voice wrecked. “JJ, I can’t—It hurts so bad—I can’t move—”

He instantly dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hands were on you, stroking your hair, your back, trying to soothe you. But the panic in his eyes melted into determination. “Oh I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I got you. I got you, baby.”

“I need to change,” you whispered, shaking so bad you could barely speak. “But I can’t—I can’t even move—”

“I’ll help. Don’t even worry, baby.” He slid his arms under you, lifting you carefully, holding you against his chest. Your head dropped on his shoulder, your body limp from the pain, warm blood already soaking through. JJ didn’t flinch. He just carried you, whispering soft things, “You’re okay. I got you. Almost there.”

In the bathroom, he set you down gently in front of the open toilet, helping guide you so you were steady. JJ crouched lower, his hands at your hips. “I’m gonna help get these down, okay?”

You nodded weakly, breath hitching. He gently peeled your shorts and underwear down together, so slow so nothing pulled or hurt worse. The blood was everywhere now, dripping freely into the toilet as you sat.

You hunched forward, arms tightly wrapped around your abdomen, forehead resting on his shoulder where he crouched in front, the cramps tore through you, tears dripping onto his shirt. The pain was so bad even embarrassment couldn’t faze you anymore.

The used pad clung to your underwear, JJ peeled it off carefully, his hands already stained red, but his face didn’t change. No hesitation, no disgust, just focus. “Okay, where do I—?”

“Toilet paper,” you breathed. “Wrap it up… trash.”

He did, quick but careful, glancing at you to make sure you were okay. Then he grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and a clean pad from your drawer, tearing it open, kneeling right in front of you. He stared at it, frowning at the wings. “Okay… how does this work?”

“Sticky part down,” you murmured, voice cracking. “Wings wrap under…”

“Got it. Sticky down. Wings under.” His fingers were clumsy but trying so hard. He smoothed it into your clean underwear, fighting with the wings, getting one stuck to his own hand, swearing softly under his breath, then trying again until it was right. There was a little blood was on his hands, his wrists, but he didn’t even glance at it.

When it was ready, he helped guide your underwear and shorts back up, slow and careful. His hands stayed at your hips for a second, steadying you as you leaned into him, still shaking. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.” His voice was so soft now, his hands warm at your sides. “You want me to carry you back, or just hold you here for a bit?”

“Hold me,” you whispered, and he did. Still kneeling in front of you, arms wrapped around you tight, letting you rest against him, his blood-streaked hands rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “I don’t care about the blood,” he whispered into your hair. “I care about you. You’re okay. I’m right here.” And he stayed, holding you through the pain, through the mess, through all of it, because he’d do anything for you.

check out my other works ! masterlist

[baguettenjoyer]

Matchmaker Caine

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Funny…But why?

Summary:

Following the “barn incident,” Jax and Pomni are more confused than ever. Whatever happened to fake dating?

———————————————————————————

“Okay,” Zooble said slowly, one eye narrowed. “Let’s try this again. If it bites you and you get sick, it’s venomous. If you bite it and you get sick, it’s poisonous.”

Caine floated beside them in midair, arms crossed.

“I FAIL TO SEE THE DIFFERENCE,” he said, smug. “SICK IS SICK.”

Zooble sighed. “Right. And if I throw a brick at your head and you forget your name, that’s also ‘sick,’ I guess.”

“PRECISELY!” Caine beamed. “I CALL THAT A LEARNING EXPERIENCE.”

They passed through a field of floating rubber ducks. Zooble ignored them. Caine tried to high-five one. It exploded.

“Let’s say,” Zooble continued with the tone of someone who had clearly given this example before, “you pick up a frog. A cute frog. If the frog has venom, it has to actively inject it into you. Fangs, stingers, that kind of thing. But if it’s poisonous, you just lick it and—boom—hallucinations and organ failure.”

Caine gasped. “FROGS ARE REAL?!”

Zooble stared. “You have been a creator in this circus for…decades.”

“AND NOT ONCE HAS ANYONE OFFERED ME A FROG!” He held out both arms to the void, offended. “WHY DOES RAGATHA GET TO LICK ALL THE FROGS?”

“No one is licking frogs,” Zooble snapped.

Caine gave them a sidelong glance. “YOU SURE? BECAUSE I COULD SWEAR JAX IS RIGHT THIS INSTANT.”

Zooble barked a laugh before they could stop themself. Great, Caine is making me laugh now?

“Okay, you might not be wrong about that.”

They reached the edge of a platform. NPCs were loading up some flowers and baskets for a new “non-threatening activity,” which meant someone was probably going to end up on fire anyway.

Caine spun in a lazy backflip. “SO JUST TO BE CLEAR… IF I LICK YOU AND YOU GET SICK, THAT’S POISON?”

“No. That’s karma.”

Caine let out a delighted squeal and vanished with a POP.

Zooble rubbed their temples. “I miss when he didn’t know things.”

——

Pomni sat curled on her bed, knees tucked under her, staring down at the folded paper in her hands.

The bunny.

She had no idea how long she'd been sitting there with it—maybe ten minutes. Maybe since last night. Maybe for the rest of her life.

It was simple. Crooked ears. Slightly smushed on one side from how she’d accidentally slept on it. And somehow, it still felt like the most delicate thing she owned.

She stroked the ears and booped its nose, holding it close to her face.

“Why would he make this?” she murmured. “Why would he give it to me? Why did he—?”

A sudden knock on her door made her yelp.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Ragatha’s voice rang out. “Breakfast is ready if you wanna come down and join us!”

Pomni flinched like she’d been caught doing something illegal. She scrambled to shove the bunny behind her back—no, wait, not good enough—under the pillow! Under the pillow.

She barely managed to sit up straight before calling out, “I-I’ll be there in a minute!”

Ragatha’s footsteps bounced away down the hall.

Pomni stared at the door for a second, then immediately turned and pulled the bunny back out from under her pillow. It was a little crumpled now. She smoothed it gently, brushing the ears back into shape, checking every crease like she was inspecting an injured bird.

It was fine. A little bent, but fine.

Without thinking, she brought it up and pressed a small, absent-minded kiss to its head.

A beat passed.

Her eyes widened.

She slowly lowered the bunny, staring at it in horror.

“What,” she said flatly. “Was that.”

She left it on her bed and clicked open the door, trying to get away from the bunny like it was the one who had kissed her just now. She stepped out into the hallway—and directly into—

Jax.

Also stepping out.

Their eyes met.

One long second of staring. Like deer in headlights. If the deer had kissed each other in a barn and then bolted in opposite directions.

Then, in perfect, silent panic, they both slammed their doors shut again.

Pomni pressed her back to the door, heart doing somersaults.

She sank to the floor, pulling her legs up to rest her chin. We’re absolutely fine. Totally normal. 

The bunny lay on her bed, innocent and unbothered and adorable.

She groaned.

——

Pomni arrived to breakfast a little later than usual.

It wasn’t intentional, but the moment she stepped into the main room—she regretted not being later.

Ragatha spotted her immediately. “Morning, sleepyhead!” she said brightly.

Pomni froze. “Hi. Hi, Ragatha.”

“Everything alright?” Ragatha asked. “You’re blushing over your blush marks.”

Pomni wrapped her hands around herself. “Just warm.”

At the end of the table, Gangle sat curled over her sketchbook, colored pencils scattered around. She was muttering to herself and flipping pages back and forth. What was she so happy about so early in the morning? 

Pomni slid into a chair near her and tried to focus on breakfast. Her something-that-looked-like-cereal fizzled in her bowl and popped at her. She stirred it but didn’t eat.

A few seconds later, Jax appeared, peeking around the doorframe like he was expecting a bomb to go off. When his eyes landed on Pomni, both of them visibly tensed.

He didn’t say a word. He walked to the far side of the room and sat facing completely away from her.

Pomni didn’t breathe.

Across the table, Gangle suddenly gasped and flipped her pad around. “Done!” she announced.

Pomni blinked. “What is it?”

Gangle proudly held up a finished drawing. It was warm, soft, and unmistakably them—Pomni and Jax, kissing in a wooden barn.

Pomni’s mouth fell open. Her stomach flipped. She felt heat crawl up into her face.

“Oh!” Ragatha leaned over. “Gangle, this is so cute!“

“Thank you, Ragatha. When they disappeared during the scavenger hunt, I imagined they spawned in the barn.” So this was a coincidence? 

Jax didn’t turn around, but his ears twitched.

Kinger wandered in holding a tea cup upside-down. He squinted at the drawing. “Hm. That’s a very well rendered giraffe. Gangle, you’re improving.”

“Thank you,” she giggled, beaming.

Pomni couldn’t even look at the picture. She just stared down at her cereal and forced herself to take a bite. It tasted like strawberries. Berries…

She peeked at Jax.

He was already looking at her, pupils bigger than usual. He tore his eyes away from her.

She swallowed her cereal, heart hammering so hard her appetite was gone. 

——

Jax opened his door a crack.

Clear hallway. No Pomni. He didn’t hear any startled squeaks or the sound of someone tripping over their own feet, so that was a good sign.

He stepped out quietly, shut the door—

—and nearly walked directly into her again.

She was just standing there, frozen. Their eyes met for exactly one second.

Then he did what was most logical—he spun on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction.

Absolutely not. No. He was not doing this again. Not this morning. Not when he could still feel the kiss tingling on his mouth.

The way her eyes had softened, the barnlight casting a glow on her sweet face. The way she barely hesitated to return the kiss. 

He shook his head and ran faster now, past a stack of technicolor blocks and down a hallway with rows of doors, until he found one of the random circus rooms no one ever used.

This one looked like a magician’s lounge. Purple velvet curtains. Playing cards swirling mid-air. Doves sitting politely on the star-spankled table.

He slammed the door and leaned against it, gasping like he’d just outrun a bear. Pomni was scarier than a bear, actually.

“Oh my god,” he muttered.

He slid to the floor and let his ears droop.

It was like a hangover, but not the normal kind. His head wasn’t pounding, but his thoughts were too loud. Sharp little fragments stabbing at his brain every few seconds.

The kiss. The barn. Her hands on his chest. That look she gave him afterwards, like she didn’t know whether to laugh or run away.

“Okay,” he said, trying to get ahead of it. “Okay. I was drunk. It doesn’t count. I didn’t mean it.”

The cornfield had sobered him up pretty quick, though.

He buried his face in his hands. “Ughhhhhh.”

Memories of the adventure flashed through his mind, invasive and unwanted.

He remembered slurring the word “cute.”

He remembered wrapping his arms around her like she was the only safe thing in the whole digital world.

“I like being close to you.”

And he remembered kissing her like it was the most natural thing he’d ever done.

Which made zero sense. He didn’t do that. He didn’t kiss people. He barely tolerated people.

So why? Why did it feel like his heart was trying to escape his chest? 

He groaned again and flopped onto his back, staring up at the hovering cards. One floated too close to his face and he swatted it away like a fly.

He couldn’t even look at her now without feeling fireworks in his stomach. What was he supposed to say? “Hey Pomni, remember when I kissed you in a barn while slightly intoxicated and emotionally vulnerable? Haha, classic me!”

No. He couldn’t talk to her. He had to figure out what this was first. What it all meant.

An image of Pomni appeared in his mind. “Why did you kiss me?” 

He wished he had an answer. But he was such a dumb bunny. 

He rolled over and pulled a dove over his face. It gave him a side eye. 

“Maybe I’ll just stay in here forever,” he told it, “in the magician’s hat.”

The dove cooed as if to agree. He sighed.

——

It was supposed to be a peaceful adventure. Just everyone wandering through a rolling meadow, plucking flowers that matched their assigned “aura” colors. Whatever that meant. Caine never explained it, mostly because he’d already somersaulted into a hedge, laughing about bees.

Gangle kneeled carefully to pick a yellow daisy, cradling it like it might faint. Zooble yanked out a blue tulip with theatrical effort and sneezed from the pollen. Kinger seemed to be whispering sweet nothings to a patch of marigolds.

The conversation started somewhere between the roses and the poppies.

“So,” Zooble said, tossing a flower over their shoulder, “What happened between those two during the scavenger hunt?”

Another sneeze sent their head to swivel.

Ragatha blinked from where she was arranging a bouquet with almost manic precision. “Who?”

“Jax and Pomni.”

“Oh,” Gangle said, fixing the collected flowers in her basket. “Um…yes. I thought I was imagining that.”

“They’ve been even weirder than usual,” Zooble continued, sneezing again. “Which, given the baseline, is impressive.”

The cast watched as Jax and Pomni moved in mostly opposite directions—like two magnets repelling—until they both reached for the same patch of wildflowers. A red bloom sat tangled with a purple one. Their hands brushed. Jax jolted. Pomni squeaked.

They shot backward like they’d both been tasered, launching themselves to opposite ends of the field. Their faces colored to match their flowers .

“See?” Zooble waved a hand toward the scene.

Ragatha pretended not to notice but tugged a little too hard on the stem of her own flower. “Maybe… maybe they had a fight?”

“They weren’t even seen during the adventure,” Gangle mumbled. “After the spawn point, I mean. So something must’ve happened.”

“No one saw them,” Zooble confirmed. “They reappeared hours later looking like they’d been—“ they violently sneezed,  “—dropkicked. Then started avoiding each other.”

Ragatha frowned. “They were already acting strange when they started dating.”

“Yeah, but now it’s worse. Now they, like, glitch when they make eye contact. Jax flinched so hard this morning he tripped over his own ego. Which was pretty funny, I’ll admit.”

Gangle looked down at her flowers. “They’re not… mad, though. Are they?”

Zooble shrugged. “Dunno. But the way they’re acting, someone definitely said or did something.”

In the distance, Jax poked his head above a cluster of lavender, spotted Pomni adjusting her hat, and vanished again like a startled prairie dog.

“I just hope they figure it out,” Ragatha said, quieter now.

“Why?” Zooble asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ragatha looked away, smiling too hard. “Because watching this makes me feel emotionally unstable.”

They all nodded at that.

———————————————————————————

Gulp. Halfway through the story

More about this fanfic:

Jax/Pomni (platonic), Jax/Pomni (romantic), Ragatha/Pomni (one-sided crush), Ragatha/Pomni (platonic), Caine/Zooble (platonic), Caine/Moon (romantic), Jax/Kinger (son-father relationship), Gangle/Jax (platonic), Kinger/Queenie (romantic), fake dating trope, jealous Ragatha, protective Jax, soft Jax, Jax is bad at feelings, slow burn, wholesome, fluff, light angst, digital death, panic attack, Jax has a phobia of corn, intoxication, good vibes, character development

Matchmaker Caine Masterpost

———————————————————————————

First | Previous | Next

Read Matchmaker Caine Chapter 11 (Ao3)

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Hey! Do you have any tips for writing a blurb for your book? I’m working on mine now, and wondering if it doesn’t reveal enough about the plot to intrigue readers.

how 2 blurb without screaming into the void

hello, thank you so much for this question, it's one of the many things i love doing howeverrrr it's kind of evil! but first off: you are NOT ALONE. blurbs are evil. blurbs are mini monsters. blurbs are the one part of writing that's like "okay now summarize your soul in 150 words, no pressure :)" and you're like "cool cool i'll just go walk into the sea"

BUT. we can make this less painful. you can write a blurb that hooks people without spoiling the whole plot, i promise.

what a blurb IS:

a pitch, not a summary

the back-of-book tease

a VIBEY sales hook

your book's tinder bio but if you swipe left i'll cry

basically you're giving us just enough to want more. not the full plot (heavens no!) not every twist. not your worldbuilding thesis. you're selling TONE, CHARACTER, and CONFLICT.

the blurb formula that never fails (unless you ignore pacing!!)

hooky first line (it needs to be snappy, intriguing, usually world or character focused)

MC intro (who are they, what do they want, and what's messing that up?

conflict needs to ESCALATE (give us a taste of the tension, mystery, stakes)

stakes or twist HINT (what goes wrong? why should we care? don't give me the main point of the twist, only a HINT)

the final punchy line (this is optional but great if you can do it, try to hint at the tone, leave us curious.)

okay okay but HOW DO YOU KNOW IF IT'S "ENOUGH"??

as an author, ask yourself these questions:

do i know what kind of story this is? (genre, and tone!!)

do i get a feel for the main character's dilemma?

do i feel tension/ a question that makes me want to open page 1?

do i get overwhelmed with lore/confused about names (bad)

did i just write the plot of the entire book in 3 chunky paragraphs? (also bad)

we don't need to know EVERYTHING, we just want to know more.

examples, because i'm a visual creature:

VERY BAD BLURB:

"Lunara is the Princess of the Blood Moon Court and must Reunite the seven shards of the Sun Blade with her talking fox familiar in order to restore the Balance before the Eclipse consumes the Twelve Realms."

...... girl what. i'm tired. there are too many nouns. what is the story even about??? help.

a better version:

"Seventeen-year-old Lunara's kingdom is dying, and it's her fault. To fix it, she'll have to strike a deal with the ancient enemy who burned who home to the ground. He has secrets. She has one last chance. And time is running out."

yess, we get tone. we get stakes. no lore dump, no made-up nouns (which is fine, but INSIDE THE BOOK, not the back-of-book teaser). there's intrigue. and there's danger. i'm interested

final tips that made MY blurbs less garbage:

write 3 versions. one ultra-short (like 50 words long) one medium (100-150), and one long rambly one (just for you). you'll find the gems hidden in the rambles

try to pitch it to a friend. literally message someone and say "okay here's what the book's about". write it in your default tone and then take that and revise it into a blurb

read blurbs of books like yours. what do they reveal? what kind of tone do they set?

don't try to sound fancy. just sound like YOUR BOOK. if it's dark and sexy? be dark and sexy. if it's cozy and magical? be cozy and magical. MATCH THE VIBE

once again thank you for asking me this question, i hope this help you and others. send me your blurb in if you ever want a second pair of eyes btw!! i live to blurb edit. also i might love writing blurbs more than actual books but don't tell my WIPs that. they'll unionize.

rin t 🖤🖤

[fictfrenzy]

hi ok KPDH fandom. You wanted complex women? okay. let's talk about Celine.

Are Celine's moral teachings ("all demons are bad, your faults and fears should not be seen, Rumi is not a demon; she's a hunter with a 'defect'" out of the confirmed ones) bad or wrong?

Yes. Yeah, they are. They suck. They fail to encompass the fact that demons — according to Jinu, but also what we see when we learn how Gwi-ma controls demons — feel so much grief and are really just grieving something and made horrible decisions because of it. They fail to consider that the Honmoon doesn't need to be protected from negative feelings, but from the weak links that Gwi-ma can exploit, and that "your faults and fears should never be seen" only creates more openings. They fail to allow Rumi to accept herself, love herself, and step out of the shadow of her father's sins.

Is it Celine's fault that these "morals" exist, and got passed down to the 2010s trio, and coincidentally lead to the destruction of the original Honmoon?

No, absolutely the fuck not.???

Celine is just parroting what she heard from the trio that taught the Sunlight Sisters. Celine is just passing down what they thought was working to power the Golden Honmoon. Celine is teaching Huntr/x what she knows, what the Sunlight Sisters knew, what every trio of Hunters learned and passed down.

Is it Celine's fault that she never thought to explore the Honmoon beyond that, that she apparently never thought to truly connect with her fellow Sunlight Sisters in the name of a mantra — your faults and fears must never be seen — that has been warped by years and years of interpretations, and possibly, misinterpretations?

Yes.

But she was scared, as was every trio before her. They couldn't risk learning more about demons – that meant giving them access to the living world for longer. They couldn't risk humanizing demons either, because what if it led to trying to fix them, save them, once again giving them access to more souls for Gwi-ma?

Fucked up, right?

And yet, Celine watched a best friend of hers, a bandmate, a sister, a half of her heart, fall for a demon. And have a child. And die.

She couldn't risk that again. For Celine, that was more than enough proof that the teachings were right, even if they are way more complex than she ever dares pondering. For Celine, she lost everything when demons, because demons got involved on a personal scale.

She's scared for Rumi and Zoey and Mira, but more importantly, she's scared for the Honmoon — a weight she has held on her shoulders for her entire life, a weight every generation has held until they were spared by death. Assuming the other Sunlight Sister also died, but even if she didn't, a sacrifice was still made to free them from protecting the Honmoon.

Celine is scared for what Rumi's entire existence means and is.

It was proof enough for her that demons should be eradicated, that the golden Honmoon must be achieved, at any cost. Because she couldn't risk a loss like Ryu again, not when they had every warning shoved in their face their entire lives, and still lost someone.

The way she handles her grief and general emotions towards the Honmoon and Hunter history and whatever is absolutely horrible and she desperately needs therapy that she realistically would never be able to get. None of her feelings and traumas excuse how she hurt Huntr/x, and most individually, Rumi — you know, the only thing left of Ryu, and the constant reminder of how demons are horrible and killed her friend — but they sure as hell explain why she is the way she is.

uhhh yapfest over. debates are welcome, i feel like i missed some stuff, just be polite :P

[lovelynim]

Can't run now

Honkai Star Rail - Dan Heng x Blade

A/N: Sooo I don't know how I should feel about this one, but it's been sitting on my drafts' folder for a while now. Guess I decided to try my hand at the toxic yaoi, ehe.

Summary: Dan Heng gets kidnapped by the Stellaron Hunters and Kafka let's Blade off the leash as a treat.

Word count: 3299 words

⚠️ Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, tickling (duh) sexual themes (nothing explicit), light bondage and some uses of violence below the cut. Minors DNI!!

[Also on Ao3]

Dan Heng slumped back into the cold wall after another failed break free attempt. He panted, lolling his head while looking around again. There had to be a way out, something to help him escape sitting somewhere in that room.

He clenched his hands – both bound behind his back by a tight knot around his wrists – and moved his shoulders, trying to recover his balance and get back into his feet. His legs wobbled slightly, his labored breath dampening the cloth used as a gag. Dan Heng pressed his eyes shut and directed the last bits of strength down to his legs. 

“Come on”, he thought, but was still betrayed by his own tired limbs, falling back down into his butt after barely lifting himself off the ground. Dan Heng let out a small grunt and sighed, his quickened pulse ringing near his ears. 

Try after try, exhaustion was finally catching up to him. In the silence of isolation, Dan Heng could hear something like an engine’s soft hum and a faint chatter on the other side of one of those walls. They were still there, that was for sure – but was he there too? He sighed, the uncertainty making his heart race even faster.

Dan Heng closed his eyes, trying to shake that idea off his head. It would be better to organize his thoughts and save some energy instead of diving headfirst into a spiral of panic. The starskiff wasn’t moving and his captors didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Were the Stellaron Hunters seriously thinking of holding him hostage to make a deal with the Express? How despicable.

That strange woman was still as hard to predict as ever, not to mention how troublesome dealing with that other girl could be. Dan Heng furrowed his brow, annoyed at the memory of how careless he was during their encounter – a moment with his guard lowered was enough to get himself cornered, forced to surrender to the two of them. He should never have expected a fair fight from people like them.

“...for how long?...”

“...Elio… mention that…”

The muffled chatter grew louder, enough to let Dan Heng catch a stray word or two without having to press himself against one of the walls or the door. While it was still far from enough to let him make some sense out of it, he was in no position to reject small clues like this, especially if it could help him figure out their goal.

“Stay and… later…”

“Hurt… okay? We…”

Were they talking about him? Or was it about the Express’ crew? Dan Heng squinted his eyes and even held his breath for some short seconds, focusing on his listening to better understand the muffled sounds that made it to his ears.

It was clear that more than one person was taking part in that conversation. Kafka was probably the one talking the most, so it should be safe to assume that Silver Wolf was the one being talked to. 

Something about their carefree manner of speaking made Dan Heng even more annoyed. They were wanted criminals, holding someone hostage and probably planning to either negotiate something with the Express or exchange him for something from the Xianzhou Alliance – and those were two factions to not kid with. How could they sound so at ease?

Dan Heng shook his head, their twisted morals and values shouldn’t be his concern right now, but finding a clue to where they were going to take him. Knowing a thing or two in advance could turn the tables in his favor when the time came and-

“...Miss him, Bladie?…”

He widened his eyes and even leaned away from the wall he was resting against. No, that should be a mistake. It had to be one, right? The thought of that man being barely a room away from him jammed Dan Heng’s track of thoughts, triggering something deep inside him that made his heart clench.

He bit down a little harder at that gag, feeling his body tense just at the sound of that name. He took another deep breath, hesitating, before he leaned back against the metallic wall, trying to pick on the Stellaron Hunters’ conversation again.

The sound was clearer this time, more like an actual conversation and less like some unintelligible muffled mumbling.

“...We can’t risk it, we need him for the script.”

“I know.”

“And you still want it, right? Huhuh…”

“Get out of my way, Kafka.”

“Not until I have your word, Bladie. Or, better, until you listen to me: don’t harm him, ok?”

“...I won’t”, Blade answered with a loud sigh, hearable even through the walls. “Not for now.”

This was bad. No, in fact, this was the worst case scenario unfolding before Dan Heng’s very own eyes. He looked around the empty room, desperately trying to find something – anything – that would help him. But there was none.

Sounds of footsteps echoed from one corner to the other, making the mental image of Blade and Kafka walking around that room come to Dan Heng’s mind. He could tell the direction they were coming from, the way they were walking towards the door. Time was running out and, his heart, fast. 

Dan Heng tried to get on his legs again, but the panic made him only kick his feet and flail like a fish hooked out of water. Before he knew it, the door slid open and revealed those two ominous figures.

“Here he is,” Kafka nodded proudly, her eyes fixed on Blade’s profile while the man stared intensely at Dan Heng’s restrained self. “In one piece, may I add. And that’s how we want him, understood, Bladie?” He didn’t answer.

“Mmmph!! Hmmhnmph, mhmm!!” Dan Heng yelled into the cloth gagging him, his pupils shaking slightly as he tried to appeal to the wiser one between the two hunters – Kafka. 

She only chuckled, her arms still crossed elegantly before her chest. “I’m sure you two have a lot to catch up on. We still have some time, so I’ll leave Bladie here to watch over you, yes?”

“MmpH!”

“Good,” she hummed, turning around without throwing a single glance back.

The door slid back close, shutting the only way out of the room. The whole place would’ve fallen into dead silence if not for Dan Heng’s labored breathing resounding within the metallic walls.

“Ahh,” Blade gasped, making Dan Heng flinch out of pure anticipation and fear. He ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head back down to look at the trapped man before him. “Even after all this time, you still look just as I remember…” he mused softly, but there was something in his tone that sent shivers down Dan Heng’s spine.

With one small step at time, Blade slowly made his way towards Dan Heng, who squirmed and battled the ties around his hands more than ever. He shifted in place and arched his back, putting all his strength into an attempt of snapping that knot as Blade closed the distance between them.

“And you were good at running away… so good that even at the one time I have you right here,” Blade groaned, stomping the ground between Dan Heng’s legs and slamming the wall above his head with his clenched fist. “You’ll still manage to, somehow, get away unscratched.”

Dan Heng inhaled sharply, forgetting he was still able to breath for a moment. His body was frozen with fear, shoulders scrunched up and limbs tensed. He wanted to curl into a ball and hide himself away from those angered, maniac-like eyes that glared down at him. 

“Don’t look at me like that. This is not the you I know,” Blade scoffed, calmly getting into one of his knees. He looked into Dan Heng’s eyes, almost from the same level now, and amused himself with the sheer emotion they carried. “What is it? You don’t believe me? Or are you choosing not to?”

Something about the way Blade smirked down at him made Dan Heng’s stomach twist. Anger, fear, confusion – these emotions stirred inside like waves crashing down during a storm. Dan Heng narrowed his eyes, huffing in disdain.

From the corner of his eyes, Dan Heng saw Blade’s hand moving and pressed himself back against the wall out of instinct, as if that would help him about it. Blade simply reached out forward until he had Dan Heng’s chin between his fingers. He tilted the man’s head left and right gently, studying his features with some sort of sickened tenderness. 

“Changing like this… you may fool others, but not me,” Blade muttered, inching closer while Dan Heng tried to jerk his head out of his grip. “I know you – the true you – far too well to fall for such tricks, High Elder.”

‘This crazed freak’, Dan Heng thought, pulling his legs back and already thinking what would be the best spot to kick Blade in. His eyes shifted from the knee supporting Blade’s weight to his body, and it was then that Dan Heng noticed a sudden move from the other. “Hmmph- hngh..?” 

Opposing the threats and violent acts he expected, Dan Heng widened his eyes when he realized that Blade’s face was barely inches away from his. He tried to shake his head again, with far more strength and effort this time, but Blade’s grip held him firmly in place. “HmMPH–”

 What was happening?

Dan Heng squinted his eyes, an uncomfortable groan making it out of his throat while he squirmed as much as his restraints allowed him to. He felt Blade’s breath against the skin of his face, his lips pressing over and over against the cloth that gagged him. Dan Heng pulled at his hands, trying to free them just to push the other way, but all these attempts of escaping were for naught. He was at his captors’ mercy, at Blade’s mercy.

That strange kiss went on for a couple more seconds, Dan Heng battling against the unwelcomed affection during each and every one of them. He groaned, gasped, and tried to pull his head back to break contact with Blade, who insisted on chasing after him, on pulling Dan Heng’s body even closer while desperately trying to feel his captive’s lips.

“Stop-” Blade gasped, elated, before cupping the small of Dan Heng’s back with one of his hands, “-running from me, you have nowhere to go now.”

Muffled words and cries filled the small moments of silence between them. Dan Heng found himself more and more cornered as time passed him by, while Blade seemed to be trying to devour him whole. He whined while those arms wrapped around him into a suffocating hug, felt heat spreading up to the tips of his ear while Blade’s kisses damped the side of neck, and his legs went weak after being pushed against the wall behind him for the Nth time in a row.

Anxiety and fear overwhelmed his mind before, and the conflicted feelings from “affection” he was receiving made his heart beat unnaturally.

Dan Heng pressed his chin down against his collarbone, trying to stop Blade from burying his face into the crook of his neck. The latter only chuckled, dragging the tip of his nose against Dan Heng’s cheek. “What? You don’t like it anymore? Or are you ashamed because it feels just the same?”

He didn’t answer – not like he could if he wanted, after all. Dan Heng simply sighed, taking the halt to let some much needed air into his lungs. His body was still tense, on high alert. It was impossible to relax while he was still in that man’s arms.

“I told you before, High Elder, stop denying it. Stop denying who you really are,” Blade continued in a gleefully cruel tone. “Stop denying it to me.”

Before Dan Heng could quietly growl back at those claims or defiantly roll his eyes in response, a shift in Blade’s actions made words even more stuck in the back of his throat. Dan Heng looked down, spotting the source of that weird feeling that just crept up his body at the curve of his own waist, just under Blade’s thumb.

Like a lightbulb flaring up after the flick of a switch, Dan Heng’s back arched and a strangled noise crashed into the gag when Blade pressed his fingers down and began to rub little circles against that spot. It tickled.

“You’re still ticklish, right? Just as sensitive as I remember,” Blade mumbled, the rest of his fingers drumming against the back side of Dan Heng’s waist while the tickling went on. “What’s the use of fighting it? I know your body better than you do, probably.”

“Hmmph! Hmphph, hnnghahgh!”

“Yes, that’s more like it,” Blade grinned, his fingers wiggling up to tickle Dan Heng’s stomach. He prodded at each muscle around his navel, vibrating his digits against the clothed skin while watching and amusing himself with the way it made Dan Heng squirm.

He thrashed his head and pressed it back against the wall, but fighting the urge to laugh pathetically was proving to be harder than fending Blade off. Dan Heng’s body trembled, curses and giggles mixing with each other to the point not even he himself could tell them apart.

Among all the things he heard that day, the fact that Blade knew his body seemed to be the most likely to be true. Not a single tickle felt aimless, each and every stroke was targeted and made in a way to have Dan Heng wanting to crawl out of his own skin, wishing that the floor would swallow him whole and spare him from that humiliation.

“You even blush the same way when you get tickled, and you’re still trying to hide your true self from me?” Blade chuckled, now letting both his hands ran loose over Dan Heng’s body – one tickling the middle of the other’s ribs while the other went back down to torture his hip. “You can use whatever disguise you want, High Elder, but your body will always tell on you. It can’t lie to me.”

Even more than the tickling to stop, Dan Heng wished Blade would shut up and let him suffer alone. It was bad enough that he suffocated and choked on his own laughter, that he wailed and cried in forced mirth under that gag.

Dan Heng squeezed his eyes tightly and shook his head left and right, he kicked his legs behind Blade’s body while dragging his feet over the smooth floor. “MHMmph! Nnghahmph!”

“Is it that bad, High Elder? The you I know was more stubborn when it came to this,” Blade added, leaning even closer to Dan Heng, invading his personal space while trying to tickle him under his arms, fighting the way his captive squeezed his limbs down against his body to protect that sensitive, and awfully ticklish, spot.

From being inches apart to have their bodies practically glued against each other, Blade let out a malicious, most likely ill intended sigh when he felt Dan Heng’s ass grind against his crotch. What was that if not an invitation for him to go even closer, he wondered. “I knew you’d miss it too, but I didn’t expect for you to be craving this much. Doesn’t any of your new colleagues know how to satisfy you, High Elder?”

Dan Heng simply shook his head, desperately fighting the restraints around his hands and the way Blade handled his body at will. This was far beyond absurdity – his pride and dignity were being torn apart with each touch, wounded and damaged past the chances of repair. 

With his cries muffled by the gag, Dan Heng looked down in a vain attempt of keeping up with Blade’s hands. He could barely see it properly as his sight was blurred by the tears of mirth clinging to his lashes, but he could feel his nerves screaming under his skin, the ticklish sensation spreading like wildfire in dried wood.

“Are you trying to tease me back, High Elder?” Blade grinned while his dick hardened inside his pants, grinding faster against Dan Heng’s clothed ass. “Do you crave me so desperately, too?” He pressed the tent in clothes against the other’s behind, making Dan Heng whine into the gag. “You can’t have it, not until you stop with this pretending of yours.”

These words never really made sense to him, but now they were sounding like utter gibberish. Dan Heng’s head was spinning, lightheaded with the lack of proper oxygenation. He was too busy laughing because of the tickles all around his body to pay any mind to Blade’s threats and speech. As if any of that wasn’t enough, he also felt a weird, disturbing heat gathering in his loins, making it even harder to fight back or try to squirm off the hook.

He pressed his eyes shut, his brows furrowing in distress. Blade’s voice was growing distant, but his touches seemed more present than ever. Chills ran down from the top of his neck to the bottom of his spine and Dan Heng wondered if his heart wasn’t at the verge of stopping because of how hard it pumped inside his chest.

Fingers tickling him in every possible spot, Blade’s warm breath and lips against his neck and ear and a shameless, disturbing erection pressing against his ass. Dan Heng was overwhelmed, overstimulated, but somehow intoxicated by the attention at the same time. Maybe it was due to the lack of air, but part of him didn’t find those claims as unbelievable as before. Was Blade really telling him the truth? Was he right about his own needs?

“H-HMPHh!.. Mhmhng… hnghaha!” Dan Heng gasped, inhaling sharply through his nose. Against his better judgement and out of his right mind, he was hard. He felt tight around his crotch and, even worse, drops of his seed leaking through the tip. Of all things out of his control, why does his arousal have to be one of them?

“I can feel your pulse against my lips, High Elder,” Blade muttered, kissing the curve of Dan Heng’s jaw, moving his face to nuzzle against the bits of his reddened cheek that peeked through the gag. “Are you reminiscing about the past? About how it feels just like before?” Blade grinned, but let the smile on his face quickly fade into an emotionless expression again.

As the pressure, from all sides, was lifted, Dan Heng slowly opened his eyes again, finding himself laying against the floor. Dizzied, confused. He looked around, seeing the way Blade’s figure tower over him, but pushed himself away instead of leaning closer this time. Dan Heng swallowed his own spit, frustrated.

“...tsk,” Blade groaned, already up on his feet before looking towards the door. Dan Heng followed after, repeating the action and, as if on cue, it slid open again. Blade frowned slightly.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your reencounter, Bladie.” Kafka locked eyes with Dan Heng for a second and her smile grew a little wilder at the notice of their captive’s state, almost as if she mocked him. “It’s time for us to make our move and I’m afraid we will need our guest now.”

“Understood,” Blade hummed, rolling his shoulders slightly before starting walking towards her.

Dan Heng could hear Kafka picking up a conversation with that man as the door slid back close, then the sound of their footsteps walking away from it. He sighed, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling. 

It was over, he thanked inside his mind, knowing he wouldn’t last much longer if he was left with that man again, but then… What was this longing inside his heart he felt now?

[skykashi]

ello there! Apologies for the ask but this thought has been stuck in my mind for a bit and since you are the Resident Hatake Gal™ I thought that you would be the one to most likely have an answer. That question being what the time frame was with sakumo failing the mission and his death.

I don't recall it ever being stated in canon and it's never really brought up in the fandom. Or if it is I'm just oblivious and miss it which, in that case, my bad ^^'. But I'm quite curious as by going off some of the info canon and you have gathered the time frame doesn't seem to be very long.

And something I've noticed when it comes to any flashbacks or even scenes of sakumo is that the length of his hair varies. Some scenes have it short (Like with the baby gai and kakashi meeting) while some have it longer. And while I could be wrong on this, in the scene where minato talks to obito about sakumo, when it gets to the part of his death it looks as if sakumos hair is short. While in the ending 33 (I believe? Sorry if I'm wrong) sakumos hair is longer.

Im going to assume that short haired sakumo was before/shortly after the mission while long haired sakumo was after the mission. But then that brings up the question of how long exactly was the time between the failure of the mission and his death.

And I know this is anime and Naruto at that but hair doesn't just grow overnight. And while I am by far not an expert on hair nor old men I assume that to get to that length of hair would take a couple of months, hell maybe a year. And I'd assume that as you age the growth of your hair would slow due to, yknow, growing old and your body gradually falling apart.

Honestly, to me, I'd make the most sense if there was around maybe 6-8 months between sakumos mission and his death. But then again the Naruto timeline is so funky that I barely even know wtf is happening and when half of the time.

Sorry again fir the ask! And sorry if I was yapping too much. The tism took one look at the hatakes and called dibs so they've been rotating in my brain like a goddam. Rotisserie chicken for the past week or so. The main reason for this ask was 1. Because I was mentally reviewing the timeline and was stuck when it came to this. 2. I want to (try) and write a fanfic to feed and calm the beast that is the tism. And 3. I'm tired so the overwhelming shame and anxiety I'll inevitably have in a couple of hours for daring to be remotely social haven't kicked in yet.

God this is so long. I'm so sorry. While I'm at it I also heavily apologize for spam liking a lot of your posts. In general I just apologize for everything. Wish I could've put this on anon but I know that some anons can be unhinged and little bitches so it's understandable! Anyway uh goodbye and I hope you'll have a great rest of the week!

Hiii ☺️ sorry it took me a couple of days to answer, life was lifing as usual 😅

Wow! You really got me thinking of things I've never even considered before.

Okay so since Naruto timeline is so weird that we all have to come up with all kinds of headcanons to make sense of it which resulted in so many contradicted headcanons going against each other, I'm going to only consider the official and canon sources regardless of the scenes we have from filler episodes.

So the first canon fact that we have in the manga about Sakumo's cursed mission is that it happened 5 years before the Kanabi bridge incident (which was when Kakashi was promoted to Jounin)

So this was speaking about the mission itself not his death and according to Boruto which is unfortunately official, Kakashi was promoted to Jounin when he was 12 years old so this means he was 7 years old when Sakumo had that mission. And according to the novel "Kakashi Retsuden" which is also official Kakashi wasn't even 10 when Sakumo died

So it means he was about 9 years old when Sakumo died so that means that the poor man spiraled in depression for 2 years until he reached the point of taking his own life 💔 which now that I think about it, it makes a lot of sense because it doesn't happen over night to reach this point and reading this part of the manga again

It does seem like it took a lot of time for the damages to reflect in the village and then a lot of abuse and bullying by everyone for both Sakumo's body and soul to deteriorate this much, like he must have stopped training or going to mission for a good time for his body to also get weaker along with his mind 😢😢

Now about his hair! I thought about this a lot and yeah for his hair to go from this

To this...

It takes time... And I mean TIME!! Like, I'm talking years!!.

And thinking about it now, those scenes of short-haired Sakumo were all with pre academy Kakashi. specifically, the ones with little baby Gai and Dai were when Kakashi was accepted to the academy and since we know from the manga that it only took Kakashi one year in the academy before he graduated at 5 years old this means that Kakashi was 4 when we last saw short-haired Sakumo. However the ones with long-haired Sakumo were from Kakashi's memory of Sakumo after his death and from Kakashi's meeting with Sakumo in the afterlife which also made me notice the way short haired Sakumo looked so much younger and healthier than long-haired Sakumo

So assuming that the way Sakumo looked during his meeting with Kakashi in the afterlife was the same way he looked right before his death especially that Kakashi himself during that meeting also looked the same way he did before his own death too.

So that wrinkles-free short-haired Sakumo screenshot on the left (when Kakashi was 4) was 5 years before that tired looking older long-haired Sakumo on the right (when Kakashi was 9) and I believe those 2 years of depression, stress and abuse contributed greatly to how old and tired he looked before his death because even tho you can grow your hair that much in 5 years, usually people do not get this old in 5 years unless they weren't in a healthy state of mind and body which definitely can make people age way faster than they should 😓💔

[sunbathingwithyou]

It's my 3 year fandom-versary (and the 15th 1d-versary) so perfect timing for my first monthly fic recs!

Here are the fics I loved this month:

Sun (series) by disgruntledkittenface / @disgruntledkittenface (300)

Three 100-word exes-to-lovers fics filled with sizzling tension.

The Sun Knows We're in Love (series) by homosociallyyours / @homosociallyyours (600)

Six 100-word snapshots following Harry and Louis from their first meeting up to present day in a slow friends to lovers arc. Well, as slow as 600 words can be.

you and these goddamn shorts by prettystylinson / @prettystylinson (2335)

louis spots harry strolling into glastonbury in those godforsaken red shorts, and it’s over for him. completely. he doesn’t even try to play it cool—he just stares, shameless and hungry, because there is absolutely no controlling himself when harry styles shows up looking like that.

Dank Wank by berzerkshires / @berzerkshires (4423)

Harry went to a dispensary in search of an edible that aided orgasms, and he got more than he bargained for.

you figured it out (and I love you for that) by insightfulinsomniac / @insightfulinsomniac (5544)

Glastonbury, 2025.

Harry and Louis were together for the entire duration of One Direction’s time as a band, but broke up shortly after the band fell apart. Since then, they’ve managed to keep in distant contact, but the tension between them threatens to eat them alive whenever they meet face-to-face.

Until a late night/early morning chance meeting at Glastonbury changes everything.

Aka: the canon-compliant (ish), exes to lovers Glastonbury fic.

Rock Me by hazel_tea_dreams / @hazelteadreams (15033)

It’s hotter than a pepper sprout in Manchester and Louis will do just about anything to cool off; Harry’s got a full ice chest in his coffee van. Will it be enough to beat the heat?

Or, Louis and Harry bond over chilled bevvies and their love for pretty rocks.

Some Things Just Make Sense by louislittletomlintum / @louislittletomlintum (21223)

or the one where louis winds up dating zayn whilst also dating harry. it's okay though, since harry is also dating zayn. maybe they should all just date one another and be done with it.

Wicked Game by cuckootrooke / @larrydoinglaundry (23930)

After parting ways with Harry in Krakow, Louis is left yearning.

However, anticipation has never tasted this delicious, and the following release has never been quite this ravenous.

Mismatch in the Making by lanallite / @lanallite (27084)

Harry Styles is the campus matchmaker. A psychology major, star swimmer, and a social butterfly, he’s set up countless couples—and he’s never once failed.

Despite his beliefs that he would finally find the one in college, Louis has never dated before. But after seeing his best friend find their match through none other than Harry Styles, Louis gets an idea. Who better to find him a boyfriend than the campus matchmaker himself?

funeral of broken hearts by tommolinson / @alwayssharry (42223)

The one where Louis breaks Harry’s heart, Harry breaks the internet and together, they learn what it means to trust again

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright (50275)

A Ferris Bueller's Day Off AU that picks up right where the movie leaves off, and imagines what might happen if Ferris' girlfriend and sister become friends. And maybe something more, too.

Just Us by orphan_account (54303)

University!AU (kind of, very little University actually involved). Louis and Harry have decided, as Harry is going off to Australia for way too long, to be non-exclusive. Now all Louis has to do is actually find someone other than Harry that he wants to fuck.

SOMEBODIES by bananaheathen / @bananaheathen (91550)

(not a 1D fanfic, but an original work, and very much one of my favorite reads from this month)

A Black, queer love story. Inspired by the song Hackensack by Fountains of Wayne:

I used to know you when we were young You were in all my dreams We sat together in Period One Fridays at 8:15 Now I see your face in the strangest places Movies and magazines I saw you talking to Christopher Walken On my TV screen. But I will wait for you As long as I need to And if you ever get back to Hackensack I'll be here for you.

your crimes are quiet, my love by lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) / @lightswoodmagic (97516)

A darker Miss Congeniality AU that follows Zayn and Liam, MI5 agents, partners since training and best friends, as they race to stop a serial killer. When Liam makes a tactical call that backfires and almost gets Zayn killed during a raid, he refuses to let Zayn be the one to put himself at risk when all signs point to an upcoming pageant for the serial killer’s next target. While everyone around them seems to be hiding something and they're forced further apart, Liam and Zayn need to find the person responsible, protect each other with everything they have, and figure out why everything suddenly feels different between them.

a soft place to land by girlfriendrry / @grlfriendrry (111620)

Louis takes a third-grade teaching job in Clover Hill as a favor, mostly because he has nowhere else to go. He lost his job as a sous-chef, and everything else in Chicago fell apart. This Hallmark-channel town feels more like punishment than a fresh start. Louis prepares for the worst ten months of his life.

Until Harry, the art teacher who ribbon laces his sneakers and paints rainbow fences, makes it really easy to get distracted.

*

comfort reread of the month: Full of Terraced Dreams by insightfulinsomniac (47287)

*

My fave WIPs that updated this month:

Babes in Boyland by bananaheathen / @bananaheathen (230993)

The genderqueer parenthood sequel to Of Mates and Men ❤️

Down the Line (Extra Innings) by sunflouwerhabit / @sunflouwerhabit (291583)

Timestamps from the Down the Line universe, detailing every chapter of Louis and Harry's love story.

Influenced. by zita17, zmmf / @louisandtheaquarian @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger (424824)

A fake dating with a twist, famous/not-famous, enemies to friends to secret lovers au where Larry and Ziam fall in love behind the scenes while Zarry bicker in public.

Mirth at the Edge of the Wood by dead_tobeginwith / @deadtobeginwith (32110)

There was a time when the only threat from the forest was stupidity. When the forest gave more than it took. But that was before.

Total number of fics read: 147 (thank you to summer drabble fest for 50+ fics.) That's 3.5mil words!

[pearlyprettypixels]

Hello, long time no see.

This is a bit of a shot in the dark in the sense that I really don’t know who this post will reach, if anyone at all. I’m starting fresh on a new account, but reblogging this on my old account @peachpitsims.

I assume the people who do see this won’t remember me that well anyway, as I never was particularly active on simblr in the first place, I was mainly on instagram (yup, yikes), and would just post my cc on here when I decided to make it. And then I quit the community as a whole, nearly 5 years ago now. I had lost my motivation and interest, as most of the better friends I engaged with had already left years ago. While I had some friends at the time too, there were parts of our relationship that might have possibly contributed to how I have not wanted to even touch The Sims 4 specifically, since making that last post in late 2020. That being said, I was 17 back then, and have never experienced this community as an adult. Being 22 now, I have had lots of thoughts and conversations with people close to me about this community and the hobby I had for most of my tweens and teens, and realized how much I enjoyed the actual act of creating stories and content with my characters, playing with life. While my relationship with TS4 remains soured, The Sims 3 has always held such a special place in my heart. It’s what I started with back in 2014, alongside my irl friend, who hasn’t had an account on here since then lol. It always welcomed me back with open arms, with an air of warmth and nostalgia, unchanged since the day I started playing at like 11. And throughout those 5 years I was gone I would every now and then drop into a save game and mess around a little, until eventually my laptop that I’d used throughout basically my entire sims career started to give out, and as I couldn’t really afford a new one, I couldn’t play at all. About a year ago though, I was staying with my partner, who has this huge fancy iMac Pro that they use for video editing and after hearing yet another one of my ramblings about how I missed The Sims 3 they were like “let’s download it on my computer.” Yay! I’d try to limit my CC usage, assuming there wasn’t much to go around anyway as most people have moved on to TS4, only to find out there is still a very thriving Sims 3 community on here. I failed at that whole CC limit thing pretty quickly and eventually found myself falling back into the patterns that I’d follow back when I used to post. Then I realized that I really missed what I used to do on here. And after more talks with my partner they basically convinced me to come back. So here I am! I no longer have access to all the fancy tools I used to get through my high school, or my trusty old laptop, but I’m trying to just do this for fun, so who gaf!!!! Here’s my two loves, Maci and Rhys, both of which I made back in 2017, who’ve basically grown up alongside me. Despite my break, they kept living through my art, and here they are again in sims form :3 and everyone better say congrats to Maci on her transition!!!!!!! Okay, if you actually read this whole thing thank you, genuinely so much, and yeah, excited to be back!! 

[pollenallergie]

“do the hardest task first”

no. just… no.

hot take: this doesn’t work for people with adhd (in my experience/from what i’ve heard from other people with adhd in my life). i recommend doing the easy/moderately difficult stuff first, that way you can convince yourself that it’s all going to be this easy and undemanding. then hyper-focus will kick in because your brain is like, “yeah, we can do this, we’ve got this.” then, before you know it, you’ve completed both the easy tasks and the hard tasks while hyperfocusing.

like, on a serious note, it’s always been easier for me to convince myself to get the most difficult tasks done when i’m already working/in the working frame of mind, not when i’m laying in bed or sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through stuff on my phone, and struggling to start at all.

if the choice comes down to you not starting at all or starting with the easiest task first (which, for me, it often does), always, always pick starting with the easiest task first. sometimes you need a small victory, a little bit of an accomplishment, to give you the courage to take on bigger challenges.

[lucabyte]

the few faces you ever got to see (x)

[crow-caller]

I really do think looking at bad writing is one of the best ways to learn about writing in general, especially for beginners.

the thing is, writing in general is highly subjective- a good sentence will be good in different ways to different people, or not impress someone at all.

a bad sentence? most people can spot bad sentences easy, especially if it is presented to them as 'here's an example of a bad sentence, let's unpack why.'

bad writing can also be very funny, which I think is again often more engaging than 'here's a work of literary genius go analyze it'. Like here's some bad writing from lightlark3:

The moment it was out of Horus’s grip, his body became bones. The flesh turned to ash. He became a corpse.

it's dumb as hell, but I think could foster a solid discussion when you ask 'why? what is the author intending to say? what about it makes it feel 'clunky'? How would you write the same idea?'

[connorgavinarmy]

Sharing observations and Gavin headcanons which made this my fav chapter. 💙 1) Gavin was there at midnight with Hank, Connor, and Chris, although he wasn't at the crime scene. Since this case was assigned to Hank, Gavin most probably wasn't the lead detective here. The fact that he was there then showed how dedicated Gavin was as a detective, and most likely he truly liked solving cases and pursuing justice. The scene opened with Gavin looking intently at Hank and Shaolin. This was an interesting event-- first known interrogation of an android who murdered a human (given Daniel PL600 was killed by Connor or SWAT or fell off the roof-- no interrogation.). I think our dear detective was really just there because he couldn't resist good mysteries. He's a detective through and through. He could've just gone home since it wasn't his case, or watched the interrogation recording, but he was intrigued enough to see first-hand what was going on. I also would like to think that he was Chris' mentor in some ways, so he might be there to give pointers to Chris who was on the detective track (current division: patrol, but aiming to be a detective. this is also how i explain some uniformed policemen's desks being in the same area as detectives-- these are patrol officers who have decided to be on the detective track, and they are more involved in evidence-handling, crime scene processing, etc compared to regular patrol officers. otherwise... would be odd that chris, person, brown, wilson, etc are sharing space with the detectives huhu). 2) I saw somewhere that "maybe he was just there to mess with Hank and Connor", but I don't think so. Hank was frustrated after he couldn't get anything out of Shaolin. It was midnight. The humans would've been tired after a long day. Gavin's line: "'Could always try roughing it up a little. After all, it’s not human…" As much as it was harsh, it was a solution. And we saw Gav's view of androids: "not human"-- by extension not alive, no Miranda rights, no need to worry about excessive force lawsuit. He's a Gen Z, he grew up with technology and genAI programmed to mimic humans. In his understanding, just because something looks human, doesn't mean it is human. So who cares if we scare the shit out of this defective machine that murdered a human? Those "emotions" were just a simulation anyway-- a simulation that went wrong and claimed human life. If he knew androids were alive, I think he wouldn't suggest this. And as much as he disliked Hank, Gav's not there to mess anyone's case-- he focused on getting a confession, he proposed a plan, and important: he didn't bully Hank for failing to get anything out of Shaolin. If Gav's really evil or a bully, he would say things like: "Losin' your touch, Hank? Can't get anything out of a machine?" He could even jab Hank's alcoholism: "Heh. Guess the machine didn't wanna be... interrogated under influence. Haha!" (=> to which if Hank said "you try it, then!", Gav could easily dodge it saying it wasn't his case). Sidenote on Gavin's jabs on Hank's alcoholism in other chapters. My stance is, even though Gavin's rude (😂), it gave insight into what Gav cared about. Hank was destroying himself and the team by showing up late and hungover every day. Who's to say that Gav never spoke to Hank amicably about his bad habits before? Maybe he tried. Maybe he got hurt from trying. The possibilities behind Gavin's raison d'être and why he does the things he does are soooo fun to imagine. Back to this chapter, he also didn't interact with Connor until Connor spoke first. Again, even though it's rude: "Okay, smartass. What should we do then?", it still asked for a solution to the problem at hand. He was impatient, but again, this was midnight and the humans were tired. Very understandable. Look at his panda eyes. Gavin deserves a good sleep. 🥲 So I think we are seeing evidence of Gavin being a hardworking and ambitious detective in this chapter, rather than purposely being there to mess with anyone.

THE GAVIN REED ALPHABET

I is for the Interrogation