#.oh also i dont think i have anywhere to display them i dont think i can shove even more miku figures on my bookshelves

[jopjab]

just saw someone sell properly functioning limited hatsune miku psp 3000 on mercari jp. do uou. do you how much they asked for it.

LESS THAN 19K YEN. THATS LESS THAN 126 DOLLARS.

DOYOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE WOULD LITERALLY KILL FOR THAT THING(at least one i personally would tbh). AND YOURE ASKING FOR ONLY 126 DOLLARS ??????

I ONCE SAW SOMEONE SELLING IT FOR 2,5K DOLLARS USD ARE YOU SHITTING ME THIS IS A FULL ON STEAL

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 14

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 5.9k

a/n: I hope I didn't keep you guys waiting too long!! We have so much more left of these two horn balls. Enjoy babies.

masterlist

Javier wakes you with his head between your legs and a white hot orgasm. He sneaks you out before sunrise to drive you home, car parked one minute down the road of course. You were on such a high you could hardly sleep, you had to teach summer school in only a few hours so when the day dragged on you struggled to keep up. You instructed the middle schoolers on the Protestant reformation, boring yourself along the way.

Daydreaming of Javier Peña while the kids took a mock exam. You sat in those seats daydreaming of him when you were their age too, it sends your head on a crushing spin when you think too hard about it.

You want to call Delilah after last night, she was so removed from your life at home. The temptation of confiding her bites at you all the way home. What trouble would it cause just telling her? She’s not even from here?

Upon arrival you notice Mr. Warden's car was absent from the drive. Pulling your hair in a ponytail, bangles jangling, you enter your family home. Your mom is dressed up, a flowing dress pale yellow and hair teased. Your brows raise as you set your purse down. Wanting to just run to the phone behind her and call up Javi. Ask him how grating it was to spend the day under the sun in Mrs. Gloria’s garden, wanting to hear every detail. 

The likelihood of your mom leaving the house is pretty high so you ask, “Where you heading mami?” 

Tucking your hand under your top and unclipping your bra in the kitchen, she hates when you do that but your breasts were small and you hated the tightness of bras. She wipes her hand on her dress, “Having a mommy-son day with Frankie. Gonna drive to the mall and then have dinner.”

Shocker, you think. You used to be bothered by the obvious display of favoritism with your mom but you expect it. You dont think shes ever taken you alone… anywhere, just for the sake of being together. Sure she took you to the dentist and whatnot but she never just asked if you wanted to do something together. She always liked your brother more and it hurt but you were done seeking love from her. You protect your peace. “Oh okay cool. Where’s Sol and your husband?” 

She walks past you, reaching down to grab her purse from the island stool. “They're visiting his mother in Corpus Christi, they're staying over for a few nights. I’m going to meet with them tomorrow, just to destress before the wedding. I’ve bitten all of my nails off!” She sticks her hands towards you and your eyes widen at the sight. Man she really did. 

The wedding was stressing her out for sure, she was more irritable than usual and always on the house phone yelling at someone. It was going to be a modest wedding, modest decorations and entertainment with a not so modest in the guest count. She invited the entirety of Laredo and the 1980 graduating class. She also skipped the renting route for the tables and chairs. She bought them all in hopes that you could use them when you betroth. 

“Is there anything you would want me to do? To make this, I don’t know, easier?”

She gave a pensive stare, like she was cataloging all of the very complicated tasks in her head. Then she nods, “Ah, yes. Saturday the print shop will have all of the guest table markers ready. If you can pick them up and fold them. There’s … a lot.” She moves around the island and grabs her purse. You move past her to grab whatever beverage you can from the fridge. “Also, James hooked up a phone line in your room before he left, just told him to get on and do it since your grandmother called.”

You stop in your tracks, your heart stopping in your chest. 

Blood running cold, “What?” 

Your mother sits at the couch, putting on her heels. “Your fathers mother called-“

Your father, Lucas. The man who only existed in stories and dreams. Your grandmother, his mother? “Mami, what are you saying? What did you say? What did she say?” You storm into the living room angrily. Your mom looks at you in disbelief, shocked at how hard you stomped into the room. 

“What?! She asked if you could visit her in Baton Rogue, I obviously told her you weren’t interested-“

“Why would you say that?!” You raise your voice, your cheeks heating in anger. How selfish could your mother be? Why do you never get a choice. 

She scoffs, tightening the strap to her heel. “Oh please don’t tell me you’re still holding out some hope for that family?”

You blink rapidly, your chest heaving. Hope? You’ve never been given a sign of life from that part of your life, nothing at all. Just the stories from your mother. Just the knowledge that to some extent he wanted you. 

“That’s for me to decide mami! I’m 22, I’m done being left out of my own life.” You seethe, you’re beyond enraged. You had just been a sweet high from morning head and a decent day at work. Happy at the chance of being home alone. And it’s the searing thought of your father that’s sucking the life out of you. 

Your mother laughs and stands up straight. “You can be angry at me but i’m protecting you from the truth. Her numbers in the phone book, if you’d like to be disappointed, be my guest!” She snaps, shoving her purse strap over her shoulder and moving past your frozen pale body. Paled in anger, blushed with an ache. “When you find out he’s just a piece of shit who chose drugs over his daughter don’t come crying.” She bites, with a finger in your face before she walks up the front door. 

Still frozen, tears threatening to fall and a sob caught in your throat. Before she leaves she snaps one last remark, “And you need to start looking for your own place, your welcome is overstayed.”

And she slams the door shut.

Winded you crouch onto the rugged floor and cry into your knees. You’ve been told your entire life that there wasn’t anyone left to speak to on your fathers side. The way your mom brought up the call, like it was nothing. You can’t help but wonder what other news she’s received over the years. 

The worst part is you almost understand her, you knew she was in love with your dad and you can tell she never really got over that betrayal, that shock of finding out he was using the whole time and using the money for your life for his addiction. 

You take the palm of your hand and wipe down your face, dragging your tears to your neck, standing up straight and walk to the phone book.

Breathe still skipping from a crying recovery, you swipe your wet hand on the counter and open the phone book to its most recent page. 

In cursive,

Lorena ? Andreas grandma

You grab the book and head up to your room. 

Time to put the new phone to use.

You dialed without contemplation, if you thought too hard you’d never call. Just call, call and find out what’s being hidden from you.

It was answered on the 3rd ring. 

“Hello?” A small voice comes from the line, a voice with an accent. A voice of a woman late in her years. If you closed your eyes maybe you could picture her. 

“Hello, it’s Andrea… your granddaughter.”

 It felt so foreign on your tongue, you had been no one’s granddaughter before. Beyond the line you hear some shuffling.

“Oh! You saved my number, I called your mother but she’s still very upset.”

You sigh, “Yes she is. You told her you’d like me to visit you? Is everything alright?”

She laughs, “Everything is alright. I just never had your information until recently, I can’t travel because I’m alone and wheelchair bound.”

You frown at the thought of the lady living on her own with no one to care for her. 

“Oh—okay. I’m not sure I would have a way to get there. I’m a school teacher here in 

Laredo. I don’t have my own vehicle and-“

“It’s okay, If you ever find yourself in Louisiana I would love to give you my address. I would love to introduce you to your family.”

You intake a sharp breath at the last sentence. Why does it now feel wrong to want this when all your life you’ve reached out for it? Why does the sound of meeting your family sound so wrong? 

“Is my father okay?” You blurted before she could tell you the address. It’s the one thing you truly cared about, the one thing that haunted you was the possibility of being too late, of him being gone in more ways than one. 

Your grandma stayed silent behind the crackling of the phone, your heart raced each passing second. Beats closer together with each one. “There’s things that rather be told in person. Please consider visiting, my address is 4289 Coventry Court.”

And the line goes dead. 

You repeat a call of her name, pressing the phone harder into your ear but she hung up before you could say goodbye. 

Javier dreamt in a 3 day span. He lived all 3 days, two nights. He dreamt of the drive and checking in. He was on his god forsaken work trip but you were at his side and so the 3 days were a breeze and the best of his life. 

He woke up with your open mouth on his shoulder, snoring small kitten snores. Your hair tossed all over your face and a tiny hand gripped at his waist. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead and he guesses you dreamt of something less pure because you immediately ripped off your top and climbed on his chest kissing him hard. Your wet core on his belly. 

Javier made sure he gave you an orgasm before helping you out of his window. Going down on your just awake body.

Breakfast for champs. 

He skipped out on the pancakes Chucho made and headed to work with his dad. The smell of your sweet perfume still on him. 

He caught himself bringing the collar of his shirt to his nose when his dad wasn’t looking. He makes a note to ask you to wear it again. 

His dad was skeptical of Javier’s good mood. Constantly shooting him a glance at his typically grumpy son. Shaking his head in a laugh when he compliments Ms. Gloria’s awful orange dress. 

Chucho rarely went to work on people’s land any more. That was old news, he tended his land and sold whatever produce people wanted. But Ms. Gloria had recently lost her husband and when he saw her overgrown garden he offered some help.  She had complained about not having seen Javier since he left so long ago, she had shrieked ranting about how much of a man he was now. 

He had been hearing that a lot recently, that he was a man now. And he was, he hadn’t noticed how accelerated his aging was, already bill stressed at 18 unlike his classmates test stressed or even his girlfriend who was lecture stressed. A teenager with a badge, snuck into bars to drink away the day's stress with 40 year old colleagues. And now a 6 figure salary and a one way ticket to the cartel heartland just at the precipice of age 24.

Yet he still felt stunted. It’s funny how that works, how playing grown up can only work for so long. He had settled down with a broken relationship for years and honestly, truly, that was the most familiar grown up thing he’s ever done. Stayed with someone for the sake of finances, very grown up of him. 

He didn't know what it was like to be the boyfriend of anyone but Lorraine. Most men his age had probably 4 long term girlfriends at this point, he had one and a few years of fucking whoever in high school. He didn’t know how to be a boyfriend for you. 

Boyfriend?

He was getting ahead of himself, he was your… he didn’t want to think too hard about it actually because the idea stressed him out. 

He asked you to be his and it felt pivotal and important and it’s what he wanted. More than anything else ever actually, to have you. He couldn’t even believe you when you crumbled at the thought of Lorraine coming home. He had cared for Lorraine, deeply, but he hadn’t truly been with her for five years. And there is nothing he wanted more than you, he wanted to drag himself to hell for making you cry. 

But still there is this slicing feeling you always had been his since the beginning, in the same way he was yours too. A wanting so deep he couldn’t fathom getting here, so he ran as far as he could. 

That, there, that hurts his chest. The thought that he wasted time, that he kept you close in his heart without giving you a choice to be a part of his life. And what fucked him up even more is the people around him noticing.

 Noticing his self inflicted torture. 

They had noticed. More specifically, Javier’s father. 

Javier is an idiot a lot of the time. He was an excellent researcher, sweet talker and agent, but boy was he awful when it came to keeping you his secret. 

What triggered Javier to mention your mother while he was knee deep in dirt, he doesn’t know. Javier’s father glanced up at him, still squinting from the sun despite his ranching hat. 

Maybe he misses you already. 

‘Maybe’, who was he kidding? He misses you so much and it’s only been 4 hours. He wishes he was still in bed with you. 

“You know-you don’t have to answer this…” Javier began, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his glove. Chucho looked at him more skeptically now that he was speaking in English, which he never did when it was just them alone. 

“I’ll answer, what is it?”

Javier shook his head and continued to work, “Did you ever-have you-did you date Ms. Diaz?”

He can knock sweet talker off the list of things he’s good at. 

Javier cringes in his head, sure he was close to his father, he knew about his previous romances after his mom left but there was a period where Javier hadn’t a clue about his fathers personal life, the period directly after his mother left. Chucho chuckles and shakes his head and mutters something along the lines of It’s Mrs. Warden now. 

“I did.” 

Javier is aghast. Astounded even, a perfect mix of shock and horror.

 It was all an inside joke but he hadn’t actually thought that- “The month after Flaca left, we very briefly dated. The next summer you were best friends with her kids, it was torturous for me. I wasn't over her but it’s passed.”

Javier wants to laugh at how familiar this was. 

How Andrea had been so ingrained his life that seeing her again after radio silence was torture. 

Javier does laugh, shaking his head.  “No mames,” He couldn’t help but feel like his dad was messing with him, trying to trigger some sort of reaction. Because Melissa? 

“En serio! It was a lonely time when your mom left, I wanted something for myself for a little bit.”

Javier weeds with a smile on his face. In the least offensive way possible, your mom was insufferable. Yes your mother was beautiful but from what Javier had seen, she was judgmental, rude and out of touch. She was a staunch christian yet surely did not love thy neighbor. She would tell you to your face you’ve gained weight and call you handsome in the same breath. She’ll kiss the cheek of a woman and call her a harlot behind her back. 

Javier wondered where you found your sweetness from.

 Maybe you never received that softness and kindness from your mother, maybe it gave you no choice but to be the softest, kindest, sweetest little thing he’s ever known. 

And Chucho. 

Javier’s dad was older than your mom, and too nice for his own good. Shit, he stayed with Javier’s mother until she up and left. He stayed for the sake of keeping a two parent home until he couldn’t any more. Javier admired his dad for that and despite it not working in the end, Javier knew his dad sacrificed his happiness to give Javi some sort of normalcy.

Javier took that from his father, if there’s a kid involved, he was going to try with the mother until he physically couldn't anymore. 

Are you on birth control?

“Why Melissa?” Javier cuts wherever his brain threatens to take him. And Chucho cackles, removing his hat to fan himself, laughing as if Javier asked the funniest question there is. 

“Why Andrea?”

 Javier shoots his dad a glance, one of confusion (he isn’t confused but he has a game to play). 

Javier doesn’t let it get the best of him, he had been teased about the girl for nearly ten years. It’s just a badly timed joke from his dad, he couldn’t know. Right?

Javier knew how to play it cool, he’s a fucking DEA agent for crying out loud. 

But the sound of your name just fucks him over every time. And he can fucking smell you on him. 

Javier disapproves and hacking his sickle into the dirt, a small piece flying on his shirt. “Funny because you know it’s not like that between Andrea and I.” Hack “And she is nothing like her mother.”

Javier’s father mirrors that same disapproval. 

“You packed your bags and went back to Houston the second you saw her picture 4 months ago.” Chucho answers with a hint of teasing in his voice. Javier doesn’t appreciate the way it made his heart pound. Had he made it all so obvious and he hadn't had a clue. “And you may be right about her being nothing like her mother but she is beautiful like her.”

“Prettier.” Javier mumbles, earning another glance from Chucho who quit slamming down the sickle minutes ago. Sweeter, kinder, better all around. 

Javier was blowing it, just a little bit. He sees his dads eyes, he sees them slanted like he’s puzzling the pieces. Like he’s got the two of you all figured out. 

But it’s more than that, “You broke that girl's heart 6 years ago.” Stern, he was stern with the way he laid out the truth. It catches Javier off guard and he blocks the sun from his eyes to make sure his dad wasn’t messing with him. 

But he was dead serious. 

“Okay?” 

He hadn’t anything else to respond. 

“Okay?” He mocks, “Okay? Are you aware of what that does to a girl like Andrea?”

Javier sighs, getting up from his knees in a grunt. Not wanting to be reminded of this again, especially not from someone that wasn’t you. “Don’t you dare walk away from me Javier Peña.” Chucho raises his voice and Javier stops dead in his tracks. He can’t remember the last time his father showed any ounce of disdain towards him. Frankly he’s dumbfounded. Chucho gets to his feet as well, staring down at his son. His son who had already selfishly claimed Andrea as his knowing he would be leaving again. “Listen to me, Andrea is a good girl, and I ain’t saying you aren’t good but I am saying that this timing isn’t good. You understand?”

Javier's chest collapses in on itself, a pain that he sees no ease. It’s like every day he isn’t with you, he’s reminded why it should stay that way. That he shouldn’t do this. Javier’s nostrils flare, a pang of bashfulness and hurt swirling low in his stomach. 

Feeling accused of something so true. He mumbles, he lies, “We’re not even together.” 

Chucho frowns, “Good. I love the two of you too much to watch you hurt each other again—you ran from it and I lost you for 6 years.” 

“I wasn’t running from her, I was starting a career-“

“You never came home.”

“You visited me once a month, you never lost me. And I did come home.”

“Once, and you left when you saw a picture of the girl.”

“I’m home now! And I didn’t fucking leave because of a picture, it’s not like that for me!”

“You’re lying, you know you feel the same way. Regardless she’s here and you’re leaving again! For good.”

Javier drops his gaze to the dirt below them, his breath quickening. “That isn’t my fault, I took this deal before I saw her, before the fucking picture.”

“Ver! la foto!” He caught you, “You forget I know you better than anyone else, you’re running again. I don’t want to argue, I'm just asking for you to be a man and end this. 

End it unless you’re staying for good.”

Javier’s eyes drop, his blood running cold. 

He was done with this. He was done with people telling him what to do, first your brother and now Chucho. Maybe it’s that selfishness but Javier mutters, “There is nothing to end.” and walks out of the garden. 

At 9 pm Javier calls. You’re in bed already, grading history quizzes with a rare smile, the kids are actually doing better. They had all failed their history final just 3 weeks ago. You feel content with yourself, you feel content with the distraction. 

You called a car rental service and was approached with the ridiculous prices of a rental. You’re a teacher for crying out loud, you don’t have money for an excursion to meet a family member you’ve never met. You spent the rest of the afternoon playing scenarios out in your head, what will you do if he actually is dead? What if hes fine? 

What if he’s clean, what if he never wanted to look for you but what if he’s been searching this whole time?

The thoughts burned after 6 pm when your to-do list caught your eye, and so did the stack of papers on your desk. So the show must go on, you can deal with the existential crisis later, you've got work. 

But Javier calls when you're halfway grading Jorge Villa’s quiz, he was doing amazing, with the pen between your lips you grab the new pink phone. “Hello?” 

“Andrea,” He exhaled. Your lips quirk into a small smile, the memories of the morning clouding your brain. He was breathless beyond the phone, like had just finished running a lap. Your smile stayed but your brows pulled together nonetheless. 

“Javi, are you okay? You sound out of breath.” The chewed up pen cap swirls against your teeth. He is silent behind the phone for a few seconds.

“Oh– sorry, I was about to smoke but decided to call you.”

You straighten up, the curly cord barely straining. You note to thank James for the extra  long phone cord.  “Oh okay, is everything okay?” Hes calling you from his bedroom phone, you could hear the difference. The phone in the kitchen had better sound quality, this one always sounded crackled and far, but it settled some weird nostalgia in your belly. This was the phone he’d always pick up from so many years ago. 

“I don’t know, I think I got into an argument with my dad.”

“What?” You blink, it comes out more dramatic than intended but the sentence just didn't seem right. An argument? With Chucho? “Sorry–what happened, are you okay, do you want me to come over?”

You want to slap yourself. Do you want me to come over, what has gotten into me?

 “It was about you.”

“What do you mean?” I’m so confused right now. Then it all hit you at once, “Oh my god Javi! Was I too loud last night? Oh my goodness this morning I didnt even think about it, he was probably awake. Javier I’m so sorry-”

His laugh cuts you off from your nervous rambling, “No, no, jesus. I don't know? We started talking about your mom, they used to sleep together by the way.”

“What!?” You gasp, your hand slapping over your mouth, his sweet deep laugh crackles through the phone. You want to swoon over it, his laugh, him, that all of this happening right now but youre so floored by the conversation you can't even appreciate it. 

“Doesn't matter, he… I don't know what he was saying was true and yesterday you were very honest with me about Lorraine and all that. He just said that I broke your heart once and Andrea, I don't want to do that again I’m so sorry.”

Your chest swells, a feeling so deep and guttural. Something big heals in you with that, with everything that has happened this week. His voice through his bedroom telephone, his whisper, his kiss and all that comes with him. It was years of an ache pushed to the side and replaced with work and shitty boyfriends and all other things. You decided a bit ago not to persecute him for the decision he made at 17, that would just be too cruel.

“Javi, I forgive you.” You mean it. 

“But I’m going to leave you again… in November.”

Lashes wet with tears you shake your head, “I know, I’ll be prepared this time. Let's please stop talking about this and enjoy what we have now.”

You're both silent for a moment, your brain is so foggy again. But this was a different silence, before silence with Javier made your mind run in circles about all the things you could do wrong and all your insecurities, this silence was good. 

“I smelt like you all day.” He finally says.

Your face breaks into a wide smile, “Oh really?”

“Yeah. Was just half hard the whole day thinking about you.”

“Beyako.”

“You were the one who left a little wet spot on my shirt this morning.”

You gasp a dramatic one, you had woken up so hot and beat red. You hadn't thought about how wet you must've been the whole night when you straddled his chest bare bodied. You kissed him sloppy and rushed before he flipped you on your back to go down on you. 

“You have no shame do you?”

He scoffs a sassy one, a classic Javier mannerism. He was always so grumpy towards everyone, sometimes you wondered if he practiced an unbothered yet grumpy face before walking out of his house. He’s going to do so well in Colombia. Your agent. 

“You’re right, could I come over? I’ve missed you all day.”

Your head spins but reality sets in. Your mom would be home at any minute.

 “My moms coming home soon but she’s going to be away all weekend. I was thinking tomorrow you could stay over here.”

He laughs, and you understand how all this sounds. You sounded like teenagers sneaking around, like having sex was number one on the list of taboo acts. Like the two of you aren’t adults with careers. 

“Okay Andrea no need to beg, i’ll be there.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You exhale a laugh. It’s so easy to forget like this, when it’s just Javier and you. You can’t begin to imagine a day of uninterrupted interaction. Your brain almost slips in a fantasy of leaving to New Orleans with him. 

“But-today? How was your day, everything okay with work? Any middle schoolers in need of being scared straight or what?”

You shake your head, forgetting he can’t see you, idiot. 

“One of them called me a cunt today.”

“What the fuck? What’s their name?”

“I’m kidding.”

Javier is silent and then exhales. “Funny.”

“My students are very well behaved and nice to me actually—well nice enough for kids in summer school. I was grading exams., they’re doing really well”

“You’ve always been so smart, used to intimidate the fuck out of me.” He whispers that second half and you’re throbbing already. 

You bite your lip and your cheeks turn bright pink. Why is it that small praises like that make you so hot and flustered?

“Intimidate?” You ask but your voice betrays you. Horny over the phone, this feels illegal. 

The sound of him shifting in bed only lights that white hot flame in the pit of your stomach. He groans a cute little old man one. He acted like such an old man at 23, but it made him all the more endearing. You picture him settling against his headboard, a hand behind his head. God you wished to be in his lap right now. “Mmm. Yeah, whenever you’d get into it with me, i’d be like who the fuck is this little girl? You were so shy but so smart, I know you apparently were crushing on me hard but you surely knew how to put me in my place.” You could hear the reflective nature of his voice. 

You think back to homecoming, how you had felt so fucking torn about telling him off but somehow content with how you handled yourself. Imagining walking the halls with him after telling him straight up that your love life wasn’t his business. You had felt so strong and mighty even though you ached for him to care about who you were with. In a twisted schoolgirl way you wanted all of the protectiveness and jealousy. But to him you hated it all, and you feared he might never like you for being so straight up. 

But he found you smart. And god why does that make you so turned on. 

You hum at the thought, “Little girl? All of you guys always act like I was much younger.”

“By the time I was a freshman I had been much more corrupt than you had been. Same with Lorraine, your brother and Genie.”

You sigh, “I guess but it does suck to think that you saw me that way.” 

Considering I was absolutely desperate to be under you back then, just like I am right now. 

The bed springs snap through the phone, he lets out a deep exhale. You hate to be so direct but god was all the noises he made sexy. “I saw you that way before we were in school together. By the time you were 16 and I was 17 I wanted to fuck you so bad I could barely stay in a room with you.”

“Javi!” You gasp. The full validity of his words don’t settle because you’re already following up. This is your dream. “Are you serious?” You whisper yell like someone can hear you. 

“Yeah? I thought you knew, I tried it at that quinceañera.” 

“That was a one time heat of the moment thing?!”

He chuckles, “No it wasn’t, you think I hadn’t thought about it before?”

“No! You were dating Lorraine.” 

“Prom night? When I walked into your room while you were hitting yourself with a magazine, you looked so pretty I had to splash myself with cold water when I left the room.”

The scene runs through your cerebrum. Him crowding your bed, his hips leveling with your beat red face. The first time he called you querida. 

“Oh wow.”

“Prom night, when I watched you play lacrosse. You really thought I hadn’t liked you too?”

Your eyes narrow, “You. Had. A. Girlfriend!” 

“I guess.” 

“You’re bad.” 

You’re so flustered right now you could barely deal. Legs crossed tight. Desperate to just be with him right now. Pulsing below, why does this turn you on so much? Are you okay? Maybe you’re a sick romantic, the confirmation of him liking you back sends the hottest stomach pitting throb you’ve ever felt. 

And you guess Javier can sense it, “What are you wearing?”

As if you couldn’t get redder. You look down, you wished it was sexier. “I’m in shorts, silk sleep shorts and a tank top.” It’s how you normally slept. 

You could hear a deep inhale from the line. 

“You got a new phone? In your room?”

“Yes, James installed it.”

“So you’re in bed?”

Your breath falters, “I am.”

He’s silent for a moment but then he continues, “Put your hand in your pants.”

You don’t even think twice before your lithe fingers are slipping between your wet folds. You suck in a breath, your cheeks hot along with the tips of your ears. “Mhm.” You moan. 

“How wet are you baby?” And you can hear the stupid fucking smirk in his tone. You’re so turned on you can’t even think to snap at him for torturing you. 

“I’m really wet Javi-please.” 

And he goes silent. Like he’s deciding on what to make you do next, and you’re at his mercy 6 blocks away, at his mercy on the telephone. 

“Go to bed, I'll take care of it tomorrow.”

Your jaw drops, and you search the room for hidden prank cameras. Candid cam style. 

“Javi!?” But he hangs up.

Your eyes widen. What a depraved little image this was. Your lips parted in shock, with a phone between your shoulder and ear with your hand in your shorts. 

Hot and bothered, you kick the exams off the foot of your bed. 

Tomorrow. 

He was going to pay 

[thedeafprophet]

ASK JUMPSCARE!

Alex, Jamie, and Josie: canvas, road, and change please :)

hi maple :3c

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

Josephine, while not having any particularly notable scars (i do imagine has some just not... particular ones come to mind), Josie does notably have markings in stretch marks. Folks with eds tend to get them in general, as well as from her pregnancy.

Alex has a considerable amount of scars - from fights and scuffles for one. There was also the top surgery scars...... and then the big one on his chest by being piecered with a wood during the summer event in game last year which killed him very dead. He got better.

Jamie meanwhile:

They did have scars, of course. But they dont anymore

Jamie has piercings, of course, but im not entierly sure i wanna show them tits out in this ask game akskldlflfh. You can see here if you really want

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

Travel is an interesting concept of the neath.... my ocs Don't Really Go Anywhere, except for like, the zee or on the Great Hellbound Railway... i guess to the ceiling now too lmao

So i offer: Josie in a traveling suit, Alex in his zailing jacket and sweater. (Jamie i dont think really wears anything different when traveling, just up in a suit)

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Alex has changed significantly appearance wise. Because. he's trans lmao. Initially it was when he cut his hair at 18 and really started being Alex that things Change, and then we came to the neath and had access to neathy testosterone he physically changed a fair bit. #trans rights. oh also he got a flame tattoo at his first feast of the rose because he likes flame

Josie appearance wise is that grand of a change, but she's def shifted over time. Acess to better clothes, aquiring her glasses, changing how she presented herself. Josie wanted to come across as professional in her adult years, which is a bit of a push to get people to accept her.

Jamie was answered here

ask game from here

[zan0tix]

Do you have thoughts about Dirk and Jake's relationship in canon? I am not anti dirkjake but I do have a hard time understanding the ship and why it's so massively popular. /gen (I have not yet read the epilogues so I'm just working off of whats in the comic)

Oh boy. DO I. Im currently working on a powerpoint presentation thatll be a little guide/recap/compilation.. thing about them whilst im reading act 6 and ill post it whenever i finish rereading the comic and writing all my notes! It will go into all the little bits of dialogue about eachother or narrative ties to certain things and such and such. (Will probably post this some time in the next two months or three. no guarantees)

But! The portrayal of their relationship and who they are and their struggles felt so real to me and it constantly astounds me that theres a fictional character who accurately displayed my own struggles in such a sincere way i feel like im getting put on blast when people psychoanalyise jake english orz

Homestucks character writing and thematic paralleling are some of its best assets and dirkjake are FULL of some of homestucks greatest moments of both. I would say that this post from @/tomatograter goes more into detail about those said moments and also alot of the other reasons i like them! And what they said in this post was true!-

-Theres just so much you can explore in homestuck through their relationship and aaaguh i love it i love it and theyre so important to the overall narrative and its just so nice to see openly gay rep that is as realistic and honest as them in a story like homestuck.

Being a teenager myself coming of age stories are the stories i relate to and find captivating the most right now and i dont think ive seen another piece of media go about its teen characters the way homestuck did. Its got problems on the handling of said characters but i dont think ive read anything else as raw and honest about personal issues teens face growing up and how they affect relationships (of all kinds!) and dirkjake are a big part of that for me!

I dont really like majority of fanon interpretations of dirkjake i wont lie (alot of.. flanderisation and blatant mischaracterisation) i dont really keep track of fandom stuff or ship popularity i just like enjoying what i enjoy and drawing things and talking about it with friends haha

And i have not read the epilogues either! i know the gist of the events in each timeline and i read a couple chapters but that was like years ago at this point and i dont think i will ever attempt to read them or homestuck^2. Some of the ideas that were present couldve been interesting but i honestly have no interest in going anywhere near it from what ive read about it. It sounds like a total shitshow and its not required to enjoy homestuck proper anyway so ¯_(ツ)_/¯

But!! if youd like to hear more about dirkjake in canon id totally reccomend tomatograter's other posts on them!!! his analysis was the thing that made me Really interested homestuck and hehe im grateful because now im here. This post has alot more of his meta commentary about them and theyre all really interesting reads :D

[cyanyways]

Deciding to try a new thing! Gonna be posting a new 3x3 topster once a week on Wednesday . Whenever I get to it. Keep in mind that these aren’t definitive lists and not ordered. Each post will also come with a list of each album going left to right top down, and a little blurb about it and what I think of it. And till I get through them all the theme is gonna be colors!

Today’s is red!

•By The Time I Get To Phoenix- injury reserve

First off, RIP GROGGS. Second I’ve always loved this album but wow oh my god in relistening to it recently it has absolutely cemented itself as one of my all time favorites. Well and truly a “post rap” album, and he emergence of a new genre is always a fascinating thing to see happen. I believe in 10-15 years this albums influence will be heard, maybe not in the mainstream but certainly heard. This album sounds like chest pain. You wake up and you feel a hand on your chest pushing your ribs into your own body, it’s hot and you’re sweating but you can’t take the blankets off because it hurts too much. That’s what this album sounds like

favorite songs: Knees, Bye storm

•Watching movies with the sound off- Mac miller

I wasn’t quite around as a Mac fan when tbis album first came out but In relistening to his discography I can 100% see how this was a turning point for so many people and this album was what made so many people a fan. You could definitely hear hints of this sort of laid back/life is good style on some previous works (especially macadellic) but this is where you hear it come into full swing. I love this album so much and listening to it while driving around in the fall is an unforgettable feeling.

favorite song: objects in the mirror

•I’m On To Me- Rav

Rav is one of my favorite rappers active right now and his recent run of projects absolutely cements him as such. This album and one he put out last year, leap serve as somewhat of a duology this album featuring the decent into depression and hopelessness and leap serving as the ascent. Fittingly then this album is so despondent in its delivery. So many of the songs are just so lethargic and almost wallowing in their displays of depression but never slowing quite enough to allow you to get comfortable with any of the feelings presented. The beats, which to my knowledge are mostly produced by Rav himself, feature beautiful samples of jazz rnb and some instrumental tracks have been warped and filtered to reflect such an altered worldview, drum patterns are slow and heavy, albums like this and earl sweatshirts some rap songs in my eyes have some of the greatest depictions of depression ive come across, not as a crushing sadness but as the lack of emotion at all.

Favorite song: Molasses

•Stranger- yung lean

It’s a little hard to explain why I love yung lean so much, but I think it’s got a little to do with how he feels sort of like cloud rap in its final form. Obviously whitearmor being the production GOD that he is helps with that, but really I think it’s a collaborative effort. So much of his music is emotionally charged to a degree where I can’t help but wonder what kinda shit he’s been through. And obviously knowing some of that makes it all the stronger.

Favorite songs: Agony, Red bottom sky

•When the pawn- Fiona apple

Angrier than most heavy metal albums. If you’re a woman or have any fem-adjacent identity it’s one you absolutely NEED to listen to . She’s a generational talent and this is her strongest effort. Though all of her projects are each some of the best that respective decade. This album leans away from some of the folk influences you can see across her discography, characterized by more piano ballad/chamber pop sounding songs. That’s not an indictment at all, they’re still incredible.

Favorite songs: I know, the way things are, get gone.

•Burial- Burial

Burial is quite possibly one of the most interesting artists of all time to me. His style of music is genuinely so singular in a way that I dont see anywhere else. Usually in an artists style you can see hints of the people and movements that inspired him, but with burial, there’s nobody that sounds like him, and he sounds like nobody else. I saw a comment once that said “burials style is like a butterfly, you can hold it, you can look at it, but if you try to keep it in your hands, it won’t be beautiful anymore.” This isn’t quite at the level of his 2007 magnum opus untrue, but it’s still a damn good ambient record.

Favorite song: forgive

•Heaven or Las Vegas- Cocteau Twins

You know em, if you’re cool you love em- Cocteau twins. This album is someone’s teenage years. It’s not mine but it’s someone’s, and I’d love to sit down and talk with them one day. I have a feeling they’ll be able to help me.

Favorite song: Iceblink Luck

•Lamp- Lamp Genso

Just a very sweet, gentle album. Super relaxing vocals, and some of the best jazz instrumentals I’ve heard in a while. Idk I don’t have too much to say on this album, the music just speaks for itself.

Favorite song:Yume Utsutsu

•Geogaddi- Boards of Canada

BOC fits in a weird place for me musically. They’re just as similar to other artist that I listen to that I often forget them. But every time I return to them I instantly remember how unique they are. This album is their best work to me. Though Music Has The Right To Children us undeniably equally as seminal, this album is in a league of its own. I’m constantly in love with it. Each track is so layered with unique elements and vocals and samples, the synths feel like ocean tides, it’s just addictive.

[tonydaddingham]

hi there! i'm so sorry to bother you, and apologize for how obnoxious this probably sounds, but i am genuinely curious: do you actually like crowley as a character and his relationship with aziraphale? from reading a number of your posts, it seems like there isn't a single thing you find redeemable about crowley and it seems like there's isn't any merit you can find to his love for and relationship to aziraphale. i'm just wondering if i'm reading that wrong, which i totally could be. this of course isn't to say characters can't be toxic and we can't still like them, but some of these points really confuse me because it just seems like you're purposely injecting toxicity into each and every single aspect of his relationship and his character which just sometimes seems reductive and removing any nuance or complexity from him/his relationship to aziraphale. or you liken him to his abuser (aka heaven) in how he treats aziraphale. i just don't understand, especially when you analyze aziraphale in a completely different fashion, even in instances where he directly treats crowley as heaven does in how he refers to him/demons/hell.

hi anon!!!✨ oh gosh no, not bothering me at all, and it's a completely valid question!

i utterly adore crowley! please - and anyone else reading that is asking the same question - don't think i don't! i think not only is he a really fantastic character and utterly likeable, but he's so complex and intricately written... i honestly and completely love him!!!💕

but what you (general) have to understand is that i see these characters - aziraphale too - as just that. very, very complex characters with hundreds of complimentary and opposing facets, and are equally questionable as they are lovable. i find their relationship as romantic and poetic as i do (sometimes) toxic and reductive. they might be supernatural beings, but the story is also (to me) an examination on human condition, and being human is messy!!!

what i suspect - and i mean this kindly - is that you might be reading only a handful of posts/ask responses that deliberately look at crowley specifically in a critical light. and i think it possibly stands out because actually, i personally don't think a lot of people do view crowley critically. perhaps that's a bias in my part - in fact, definitely is! but unfortunately i think the fandom is relatively one-sided in this respect. talking about asks specifically, i dont really get a lot regarding aziraphale (although id love to, if that would give me an opportunity to parse out where aziraphale is equally questionable!) so im not as vocal in my critique of him. but it's not because i think crowley is the only one of the duo with flaws and that displays problematic behaviour.

furthermore, please remember that you are only seeing snapshots of individual aspects where i critique crowley; what i mean by that is that there isn't a single instance (unless i did a mighty multi-thousand word dissertation!) where i could talk about all of my observations of crowley's character. if i did, i promise you there would be a hefty amount of good things about crowley that i could discuss.

i will also say that whilst i appreciate how it must come across, i don't purposely inject anything anywhere - i don't do it out of any nastiness or vindictiveness. i consider myself a relatively experienced adult, with a good degree of objective emotional maturity, that has had quite a bit of practice in examining human behaviour (job) and analysing different patterns and characteristics (also job). if i call out toxicity, it's because i see toxicity. if i call out horrible or hurtful behaviour, it's because i see horrible or hurtful behaviour. that doesn't mean i hate any character (if anything, it endears me to them more because - gasp! - they're not perfect and actually very relatable!). it also does not mean that i expect anyone to agree with me, not at all, but i deserve - same as anyone - to offer an interpretation that whilst may not be agreeable, is objectively just as valid.

my analysis (or critique, whichever) is my own opinion, interpretation, and perspective. it is not necessarily right or wrong, and whilst i may joke about it, i don't think i have ever categorically stated or alluded to the fact that i must be right, and every other interpretation is wrong. if everyone had the same opinion and saw crowley - and aziraphale for that matter - as completely flawless, or at least we all interpreted them in the same way... well, it'd be utterly boring, right?

all i aim to do is offer an alternative perspective on these characters and their relationship, maybe something that others might not have considered. the general reaction to them and their relationship is positive, and maybe offering a different take on that, for some people, might be interesting. if they're not interested, or disagree, all they have to do is scroll on, or challenge me the way you have - respectfully and eloquently! discussion and conflicting interpretation is good; it offers different perspectives and experiences, and maybe offers some the opportunity to step back from loving a character (as they should, they're so lovable!), and instead look at them objectively, and ask questions. personally, i don't think there's anything wrong with that✨

[fratboykate]

Okay seriously, you’ve talked about it but I need more details, how did Kate meeting Alexei and Melina for the first time go exactly?

Melina has a key to Yelena's apartment. For emergencies and such. But also, it's not uncommon for her to let herself in. Mostly if she knows the roommate is going to be away. It's just the kind of relationship they have. They're really fucking close.

She knew the roommate was away that weekend and her and Alexei were not far so they decided to drop some groceries off. Nothing huge. Just some stuff they know Yelena loves. What they weren't expecting to do when they opened the door was find their half naked daughter straddling an equally half naked strange girl on the couch. This is NOT AT ALL the sort of thing Yelena does. Last time Melina knew Yelena went on some sort of date/little string of dates was freshman year and that didn't go anywhere (there's been others but there'd been equally unimportant so Yelena didn't even mention them). That's a surefire way to learn the benefits of knocking and/or calling in advance.

Kate had spent the night and they had luckily taken a break from the sex, decided to put SOME clothes on, and wandered out to try and get sustenance in them before going back for more. Had they not, Melina probably would've walked in on Kate getting hammered into the memory foam mattress lol. That would've been a billion times more traumatizing for everyone involved.

After a lot of screaming the four of them end up sitting in the living room like...

SOOOOOOO........this is fun and not at all awkward.....

At least Kate and Yelena ran to put clothes on for it lol.

Yelena finally breaks the silence and she basically cuts to the chase.

"Mom, dad this is my girlfriend Kate. Kate these are my parents."

"I was...uhm...we were totally just...playing back there. She had like...a thing on her...thing...It wasn't what you're thinking."

"We spent the night having sex and were about to have more sex. They're not children, Kate. They know what was happening."

"Oh, well..."

Melina responds a bit taken aback by the blatant honesty.

"I could break in two, you know? Just...snap."

"My god. Please, daddy. There's no need for the toxic bravado display. You two are going to get along just fine which is...concerning in a lot of ways."

"So, we were going to get some food and got...distracted. If I know you guys, you were down here to go eat at Vito's or Martel's and stopped by to try and get me to go with you. Give us like fifteen minutes and we'll be ready."

The three other people in the room whip their heads at her and stare like "You're fucking joking right?!". Melina is the first one to reluctantly agree.

"It would be a great chance to get to know more about you, Kate."

"Yeah. Totally. Sure. Great chance. Perfect chance."

---

Yelena grabs Kate's hand and guides her to the bedroom. Kate immediate is like...

"DUDE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! THEY JUST SAW ME HALFWAY INSIDE YOU I DONT REALLY FEEL LIKE EATING PANCAKES WITH THEM."

"Only way to make them forget...that...is for you to charm them. You can be many things but luckily charming is one of them too. Let's focus on that one today."

"Your dad looks at me like he knows exactly what I've done to you."

"That's because he knows how sex works. We all do."

"OH MY GOD. Have you seen him? He can rip my head clean off. HE WILL, Yel."

"He won't. Can you just get changed and trust me...? When we get there let me order for you."

"Why?"

"I just asked you to trust me so do it."

---

They get to the place and Yelena strategically makes sure that Kate ends up sitting on the chair next to Alexei.

When the waiter comes around she also makes sure she's the first to order.

"Hi. Let's start with the sharable cheeseburger empanadas and the chicken wings. Let's do half Koren barbecue and half garlic parmesan, hold the pickled veggies. They won't eat those. For the main I'll get two of the Bacon Bacon Bacon burgers, medium rare. I'll also add the extra bacon because they're animals, the fried egg, and the avocado. For the fries we'll do half classic, half tater tots. And for dessert it'll be the birthday cake waffle stack. Now...I'll get two flights of beer: it's six beers each right? Let's do the Pastiche II IPA, the Superhero Sidekicks IPA, the Van Life IPA, the Lambo Door IPA, the Gigawatt IPA, and the Zombie Dust IPA. Both flights the same. All that is just for the two of them."

Yelena points to Kate and Alexei. They turn to look at each other and squint. Why did she just make the exact same order for both of them and why is it so accurate??? Melina also looks at them then at Yelena confused.

"Mom, what do you want?"

While the women start to talk about food Alexei squints and starts a rapid fire session with Kate.

"FIFA."

"Manchester. United. Not city."

"Starting off on wrong foot."

"Eastern Conference Team?"

"NYC born and raised. Knicks baby."

"Western?"

"Lakers."

"You play?"

"Captain of the varsity archery team at our school. Varsity fencing. Tae Kwon Do team. Was almost in the Olympic gymnastics team but chose to focus on archery instead. Also played lacrosse and soccer in high school."

"Best living boxer?"

Kate hesitates for a bit. Trick question.

"You."

"Then?"

Kate thinks.

"Canelo."

Alexei stays quiet with a deadpan expression for uncomfortably long then forcefully slams his massive open palm across Kate's back with a howling laugh.

"Where did you find this one? She is funny! Canelo! Ha! I beat him. Not that great. But we teach you about real boxing...and real football. No problem."

Yelena looks at Kate and smiles then mouths "relax".

By the time they're on their second flight of beer Kate and Alexei have already become the best of bros. After seeing them in action Yelena and Melina have also realized this is a DANGEROUS pairing.

But they do walk away kinda in love with Kate. Alexei because Kate's a bro and Melina because she hasn't seen Yelena like this in years. Kate can stay. And if she does something wrong Alexei can still rip her head clean off.

[mrcowboyhale]

Hello , Could I request Jasper with very pretty WOC!Reader .

Basically like headcanons on what there relationship would be like .

Also reader has long curly hair and is pretty popular on tiktoks because of her pretty looks and she makes thrist traps .

If you dont want to make this request that's fine )

Also hope your having a good day / night and hoped you ate today .

Much love - Rene 💜💜🥺

ahhh im so happy this is my first request i tried my best & i hope u like it!! i also hope your having an amazing day as well 💗

୨୧ jasper hale x gorgeous woc reader ୨୧

✿ jasper was staring at you bemused from afar, watching you as you propped your phone onto your bookshelf shelf and started to dance to upbeat music.

✿ you were making a tiktok - as you always do - and jasper loves them.

✿ he loved watching how you danced so delicately yet sultry at the same time. he loved the way your long and shiny curls bounced when you twirled to the beat. he loved when you would post tiktoks lip-syncing with your plump lips and your visibly long eyelashes on display. he loved when it was sunny outside because you would prop your phone on the windowsill to get the good lighting it provided to dance in - when this happened he loved watching your melanin shine in the sun, in a way it shone exactly like how his did.

✿ jasper would make jokes about this - saying how both of you became shiny in the sun, in which you would retaliate “no jazz, i have a good skin-care routine and a pigmented complexion - your a just vampire.“ jasper then pouts.

✿ after seeing him pout - “i was joking jazz i love ur vampire skin.” as you kissed him on the nose. at this he immediately stopped pouting, smiling cheekily.

✿ but as i was saying, you make a lot of tiktoks and they aren’t for nothing!! ur kinda really famous on the app.

✿ “omg jazz, look, that tiktok i made earlier got 182k likes!” you gushed.

✿ handing your phone over to jasper, a scowl painted his features when he saw that the video that got 182k likes was a thrist trap.

✿ of course that was inevitable, you were a really pretty girl. even in the small town of forks people would ogle and smile at you, some would even holler and jasper would have to refrain from ripping their heads off.

✿ “jas- jas its okay” you would attempt to calm him down.

✿ “no it isn’t. if those fuckers dare to even think about looking at you i am killing them.”

✿ you sighed.

✿ of course though - jasper didn’t mind the fact that you posted your body on tiktok. he didn’t have to mind because at the end of the day you were all his <3 and you sure as hell aren’t going anywhere.

✿ jasper really loved ur hair tho

✿ on wash days when you were tired jasper would help you do your hair routine. he brushes your hair only when its wet, he uses a gentle shampoo and conditioner - then finally he adds a curling cream massaging it into your scalp.

✿ you made satisfied noises as jasper massaged the cream in, making him blush.

✿ “you should be a hairdresser.“ “oh darlin’ i know.” you both giggled.

[jinnyu]

Used artwork credit here

A/N: I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE DRAFT AND THEREFORE THE ASK WAS ALSO DELETED, IM SORRY— alright, hopefully you'll enjoy this nonetheless, thanks for asking! I'll try to find the person who asked for this prompt later.

And so, this ask is Raihan x Female! Reader, the prompt is displayed above.

━─━─━━─━「₪」━━─━─━─━

You sip your bottled tea as you watched Raihan battle the opposing gym challenger from the bleachers; to say you're amused was an understatement. The dragon tamer never ceased to amaze you everytime he's in a battle, regardless if he reigns victorious or fell down in the depths of defeat— his match is always wild, numerous of fans shouting for his side as he let the sandstorm take over the stadium, enveloping it in a rough weather.

The fans were alright though considering the stadium was perfectly designed for these type of things, protecting the said viewers from the harsh effects of the weather— which Raihan takes pride in, looking at how his technique consist of taking advantage of the weather to boost his pokemons powers.

This is what makes you baffled with his performance every time. Even if you already became a Champion that rules over Galar, you didn't look down on him, and you're not planning to.

Occasionally, the dragon tamer would lock eyes with you, sending chills down your spine as his cerulean eyes stare right through you, followed by that signature smug grin of his in which his fans has grown a liking to. You gave him a gesture of support by clenching your hands accompanied by a determined look on your eyes. He noticed your small action and gave you a thumbs up before focusing on the match infront of him once again.

Some fans mistaken it as him looking at them, and they immediately melted on the spot due to that misunderstanding. Though you didn't pay any mind to it, you dont want to ruin people's happiness anyways, just let them be.

After the earthshaking match, which Raihan managed to reign victorious, he gave a hug to the challenger, and telling them that there were no hard feelings involved. Luckily for him, the challenger was still determined to try harder for a rematch in the near future, and they can ensure Raihan that they'll be the one taking victory home next time they meet.

Raihan saw that as a challenge and he's going to get stronger, he wants to give his best at every match, that's his job after all. Losing just wont do for him.

When all of that commotion ended, you approached the said dragon tamer with a smile dancing on your lips and arms open wide, incase he wanted a good ol' hug after the match.

You know him so well, of course he wanted a hug, and its from you— you.. you're his crush, not that you know it, its a new thing for him too. He took an interest on you when he saw you battle at the Championship Cup, reaping the victory without any effort; you're strong, you're tough, you're more than what you seem, and Raihan liked that part of you.

Though on other times, you're also clumsy, careless, and mostly oblivious. These trait of yours just amplified your attractiveness level to Raihan; strong and oblivious usually doesn't match with eachother, yet you managed to make them mix well, creating... you.

"Good job on the victory!"

You planted your face on his chest, burying your head in the warm feeling of his hoodie, and trying your best not to get tiny little sand stuck in your head. It'll be a pain in the ass to clean up later if you did. Your arms wrapped around his lean waist, hugging him as tight as you could to show him your affection.

Raihan responded well by hugging you back and ruffling your hair, saying a light 'thanks' along the way. Maybe without your support, he would've lost this round, and other rounds from before— no matter, he should just focus on the present, where you're hugging him in the middle of the stadium... infront of his assistants. Not to mention Leon is also watching, accompanied by chairman Rosé.

The dragon tamer then pulled back after awhile, he knows this affectionate act of yours doesn't have any meaning behind it. Just a hug you gave to your bestie after his gruelling match; it has became a habit at this point, and you didn't even notice that. Raihan did though, he paid attention on every little details about you. From the way you dressed, to the way your expression changes over the time, that even he notices the smallest shift in your mood during the day.

Silence began spreading between you both, and its getting kind of uncomfy. So you decided to break away the tension by helping him dusting off the sand on his body, and his features. The amount was quite a lot, and it's going to take awhile if you really want to remove all of the tiny bits of sand from the previous match. You even thought about suggesting him to not use the sandstorm weather next time, it's really getting troublesome and somewhat irritating to handle. At least for you.

"Stay still im helping you clean up" you said as you reached for his headband. He didn't want any help in cleaning up this time, considering that Leon is here, and few of his assistants—lets not forget about chairman Rosé whos observing from the sidelines, possibly being held captive by Oleana because of work reasons.

Raihan then gripped your arm as he tilted his head a little bit back, preventing you from reaching his tangerine headband "No need princess, i can clean it up by myself" he grinned, trying to hide the embarrassment thats slowly growing inside him.

Sure he might be a man of confidence, pride swelling on his chest with each step that he takes, but the poor dragon tamer only could handle so much when it comes to you. All that pride and confidence washed away just like that, and thats all because of your damned adorable oblivious trait.

You were determined to take off his headband, even if that means you need to use all off your techniques on him. This time, you only relied on your obliviousness. You really dont know what effect it has on him— you didn't even know if your oblivious trait has an effect on him at all! But you saw him blushing a few times from you being genuinely curious about something, so its worth a try.

Raihan was completely caught of guard when he looked down at you and your determined eyes; it was different from before where you're supporting him, he cant tell whats really different, but it just hits diffrent. You reaching up with Raihan gripping your wrist, warm eyes locking with his followed by a small curl on the edge of your lips as you felt him slowly reducing his strength in the effort to prevent you reach for his headband.

This only resulted in him looking away, blush subtly creeping on his cheeks as he tried to avoid eye contact with you. The Great Raihan would never be embarrassed in such a situation, hell, he'd be the one to make you embarrassed! But this time, apparently the odds were in your side , and you're grateful for that.

The thing you didn't understand was; why is he blushing? You didn't do anything, you only tried to take off his headband in order to clean it, and yet when he locked eyes with you, a tint of blush appeared on his chocolate skin, in which he attempted to hide it by looking at anywhere but towards your direction. This was a great opportunity to make him blush more, dont you think? Its rare to see Raihan blush out of nowhere, and you got to see it up close! A way great opportunity, you couldn't bear to pass this chance.

With a gentle push forwards from your body and him being off guard, you two tumbled down to the ground below you with a loud 'thud' ; Raihan covered your fall by pulling you close to his chest, which makes you comfortably land on his body instead.

"Honestly," you trailed as you got up from your position, lifting your body up with your hands on each side of Raihan's head before looking down onto him with a joyful grin plastered on your face "You're cute when you blush, Rai" you chirped, followed by a soft laugh. The position you guys were in wasn't quite the best to see without context. But you couldn't care less, you two were only having a wholesome bestie moment— yet Raihan might be freaking out inside because, oh Arceus, what is he gonna explain to Leon and the Chairman himself? Him blushing just makes it worse and doesn't help him out at all.

His eyes finally dared to look into yours again while a sigh slipped past his lips "You're just teasing me," he exclaimed as his lips curl into his usual relaxed smile; shades of blush still not leaving his face "Again." He added, hands reaching up to pull you back down onto his body, loving the way you fit inside his embrace just perfectly. He's way taller than you, meanwhile you could be accused of 'tiny' compared to him. Thats why he liked hugging you so much, even if you're just teasing him.

He doesn't care if you know his feelings or not, he's just happy that he could hold you like this without any care in the world right after his tiring match. Though he still does have a lot of explaining to do the the Chairman later, and possibly to Leon too.

[shyrose57]

2nd part than.

8: (This ones longgggg) Their rooms all have the same beige (like brown mushroom color) walls and floors. As their not allowed to change that. But Watson has some bookshelves in his room along with a old adventurer cape that goes in front of his body and hangs to his ankles (Item-Ya Adventurer Cape is a perfect example. Idk the actual name for the kind of cape it is), some display cases featuring his strongest bows and arrows, along with a sword and axe, along with pictures of the group toghere and pictures from his travels on the walls, he has a single lone desk that is only used when designing new bows or arrows. Ran also has bookshelves, but his is bigger and takes up a whole wall, he also as a winter cape with fur on its shoulders hung up (he lived in a snow biome for a little while and made the cape himself), along with a single weapon case that features a lone damaged neitherite sword, he also has chests stacked along a wall filled with random stuff that he sometimes gives as gifts or uses to throw at people. Jackie has a few paintings and posters in his room, along with the only carpet in any bedroom (that he totally didnt steal from Grievous), a panting easel, he has a single display case in his room that displays the sword Porkius gave him for winning, theres also pictures of the group toghere and a small chest next to his bed filled with things that belongs to someone in the group. Grievous has a small bookshelf (one book is a naming book Watson jokingly gave him), a chest filled to the brim with blankets and pillows (cause for him comfort is a necessity), he also has a desk that he tends to fall asleep at when doing literally anything on it. Everyone also has a good sized wardrobe somewhere in their room that is filled with different outfits and w statue stands with either iron armour or empty. There is also a four-way-bunkbed in the living room/area, they typically use it when someone is having or had a very bad day and needs comfort, or when Jackie's separation anxiety is bad and needs to sleep with everyone nearby. 

Ran loves reading and sometimes gets mad when someone intrupts his reading. Watson loves designing new bows and arrows and just designing weapons in general (Grievous does too and helps him sometimes). Jackie likes to paint and has a interest in adventuring one day. They are well known but only in Subbin and surrounding cities. Though word does travel about them at times which can bring people to Subbin. They have 2 titles actually! First is used in typical matches, while the second is used in more formal or serious matches (like those for general). Ran: The Enderman, Partikel Tari (Dancing Particles, referencing how when he fights when serious its like he's dancing as he teleports around the field). Watson: The Archer, Multi (Referencing how he has more experience than anyone in the use of all kinds of weapons and can quickly adjust to situations). Grievous: Multi-Named, Unpredictable (referring to how he is by far the most unpredictable person in serious battles). Jackie: The Child, Diremehake (Underestimated, referring to how he gets underestimated a lot during any battle). They get recognized quite often and get called their stage names, when they dont want to deal with people recognizing them they often either yell at them to go away or just run away. 

9: They do all of the above! It depends on the match up (Jackie and Watson stay out of eachothers way mostly, Ran and Grievous make it one on one, and Ran and Jackie take them out quick). Oh the first time Ran threw Jackie was hailours. You could hear Watson screaming from the stands in fear and Jackie just head-butted the guy in the stomach. Then when Jackie recovered he just yelled for Ran to throw him again, and once again you could hear Watson screaming no and threats at them from the stands. Ran agreed and threw Jackie at the last person, who he just bear hugged as he hit and held them down. Then after the battle Watson smacked the two and chastised them.

10: At first he drops stuff and trips over his feet on a regular basis. But after about 3 weeks he fully regains his balance, and is able to finally walk without tripping at the start. While the attempts at bonding do work to get Ranbob and Cletus closer the two never get as close as the rest. Neither can really name what's stopping them from getting closer though. For the first week people need to constantly remind Ranbob to do all of those things. As he thinks the constant hunger, thirst, and tiredness is all normal when its not and their trying to get him to understand that. And while he eventually starts to do it himself, theres still some nights where he doesnt eat or drink or sleep. They just leave the two in the house, but later they do start to expand the house a bit to fit the new addition. He does not get his own place up, he just gives up after some time. He doesn't fall asleep out there to often thankfully, but since the house keeps falling on him he does get cuts and bruises quite often. He gets stuck in a rain storm only 2 times which isn't bad, but he does get semi-bad burns from them sadly that Benjamin has to sit him down for and have Charles distract him for long enough to wrap his wounds properly. And it only took Benjamin like 4 weeks before he finally got fed up and forced him inside and had him stay with them. He has dealt with a storm before when he was young! But it was when he was about 12 so its been a long while. 

11: He spends all of his free time glaring at them. And for the first few days whenever he sees someone from his group hanging around his brothers, he'll go over and pick em up and just carry them away. The fishermen worry for a bit that Ran may hurt them, but Watson assured them that Ran knows the two groups like eachother and wouldn't hurt them incase that could hurt his families feelings. 

12: Ranbob is extremely happy about potentially getting new members of his family! And eagerly tries to talk with them. But Ran is far less happy and actively avoids them (and drags his family away at times).

13: At the start they have no idea where their going. But when Grievous brings up about Rans damaged sword they decide to find a nether portal so they can find whats needed to repair his sword! And Watson decides on the way he can show them all the different biomes in the world, which Jackie is extremely excited for. 

14: If the fishermen get separated from Ranbob for too long he actively goes and searches for them. And refuses to stop until he finds them. When upset Ran loves to pick up members of his Haunting, though he doesnt do them often as he knows his Haunting doesn't like it when he does it to often. He and Ranbob also pick up blocks though as it's a comfort action and soothes them. Cuddles piles do happen! They happen more for Ranbob to comfort him after a nightmare or just a bad day, or when he basically relapses and wants to go back to Dream. But cuddle piles are more rare in Rans group, as cuddle piles only happen when anyone is doing really badly mentally or physically and just need comfort, or when they all just need some comfort. But their much more sentimental and have more meaning than Ranbobs groups. 

15: Oh definitely. I forget if I included it when I first introduced my Au. But soon after Ran escaped Mizu, he was hunted for his pearl and respawn ability. Though he killed the people hunting him. Every year he was out of Mizu and every year before he entered Subbin he was hunted by multiple groups. He's become legend just for avoiding so many groups and killing a vast majority of them. He's known as the "Green Eyed Enderman." and is a top goal amongst hunters. There are some times Ran got jumped in Subbin for being a hybrid but he quickly defeated them. 

Karl has played his role in this! Though maybe I could make it so he comes in later on during a really difficult part between the  brothers, and helps out. Using his own experiences in the SMP and seeing what ruined relationships like brothers does to someone and others, to make sure their relationship doesn't stay so broken and hurt so many people. Maybe at the end I'll have them go back and face Dream so Ranbob (and even Ran slightly, with how Dreams presence affected him) can finally be completely free. As of rn no one has a pet. But that question made me really want to give someone a raven and idk who. I want to have bits of the other Tales in it! Im not quite sure how yet but I want this to be a mostly Tales ONLY au (no main SMP stuff unless needed or necessary) as the Tales don't have enough love. He does write down the experience he had with the Dream Experience and writes down very important things, but other than that he leaves it behind. 

Im really happy to hear that you like my au. I love world and story building a lot and can't control how much I write sometimes, again im sorry this is so long and I'll do my best to not make anything this long ever again. Sorry if this bothered you

8: Sounds pretty interesting, overall. Was Watson-as his cape suggest-perhaps an adventurer? And he designs his own bows and arrows? Very cool. What kind of things does he come up with?  Ran also sounds like he’s traveled a bit. He knows how to sew? Has he ever made anything for anyone else? Where did he get his sword? Jackie’s got a carpet? Very nice, he deserves it. And a painting easel? How good is he at painting? Or is it more of something he’s just trying? Grievous sounds like he could build a very good pillow fort, and honestly, good for him. How often do they camp out in the bunk bed room? 

Ran not liking being interrupted is understandable. Does he ever read to anyone, or is it more some alone time for him? Grievous and Watson must design some terrifying weapons. Where is Jackie looking at adventuring to? Anywhere specific, or just around? And what language(s) is Ran and Jackie’s secondary titles in? Latin? 

9: Very smart of them, means it’ll be harder to pick up a pattern. And hearing about Ran tossing Jackie-I’m laughing. I’m not going to lie, kind of assumed it was planned pre-match, but hearing that they just decided to throw him? Watson’s reaction? Just...hilarious. Was Jackie even prepared for it, or did Ran just toss them without warning? Honestly, it kind of sounds like people might come to the Pit for the comedy just as much for the fighting. If this was the kind of thing that went down, I’d probably come to watch.

10: Oh no, Ranbob! At least he’s getting better. So Cletus and Ranbob never quite click, huh? Well, that’s alright. Sometimes people just don’t. Doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other! Ranbob thinking it’s normal, oh god. Does he ever say something along those lines, or get confused why the others are so worried about it? If so, how do the fishermen react to that question, and how does Ranbob react to the answer. As for the house, well. He can say he tried if nothing else-and hey, funny story to share with the gladiators later on. It’s good that he wasn’t caught in too many storms, less that he was caught in some at all. I’m sure that was a big help in convincing Benjamin to finally just put his foot down, which, honestly good for him. You go, Benjamin!

11: Ran, bud, chill. I like how you said his free time though-my first thought was that he immediately finished a book and went over to glare at them. Probably not true, but a hilarious mental image. Very glad Watson has reassured the fishermen-how did Ranbob react to that worry of theirs?

12: Ran’s actions are pretty understandable, but still a bit sad. How does Ranbob feel about them? Is he resigned? Determined? Upset?

13: Adventure! Into possibly dangerous places! How fun! Can’t wait to see where it goes. What do they see? What’s the first stop? How long are they heading off?

14: He won’t stop? Like, potentially will work himself into the ground won’t stop? Ran just picks up his members like blocks. And, oh boy. Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream? That’s just. Oof. Very much oof. How do the fishermen deal with that, and how do they feel about it?

15: Ran sounds like he’s had a less than enjoyable time out there. Do these hunters ever go after them once they leave Subbin? Do they target Ranbob? I mean, he’s another Endermen hybrid, and one who definitely isn’t as skilled as Ran, or as used to them. He’d be a much easier target.

So Karl’s gonna come in towards the end. Nice. Ran was also affected by Dream? How so? Obviously less than his brother, but did he ever notice? Did Ranbob? Sounds like it’d be a good final showdown, over all.

As for that pet raven, may I offer some suggestions? You could give one to Jackie and Grievous, so it can help them cause havoc, or maybe one to Benjamin, so it can help him keep an eye on his dorks. Maybe even Cletus, to help snag things, and mess with people, or Isaac, maybe to help find things. Even Watson, or one of the brothers, to help keep watch over their groups. Really, you could give any of these guys a raven. Depending on said bird’s personality, it could fit anywhere. Just depends on what you want to do with it.

I completely agree with you, we need more Tales AUs. Ranbob and Ran did come from what was basically a city of historians, perhaps you could use that to tie in the other Tales? Or even have them across the old ruins of areas on their adventure. Even chunk in more time travel, via Karl or otherwise, if you want to toss in more characters.

Ranbob pretty much starts over then. Good for him. How does Ran feel about that? Actually, who was Ran’s idol, and his general life on Mizu, before the Dream incident?

Other questions:

One thing I’d like to know is how the groups react to each other’s experiences and general life styles. Like for one, Ranbob and the fishermen generally seem more physically affectionate with each other, while Ran and the gladiators seem fairly less so, but no less close. 

For another, the fishermen probably still remind Ranbob to eat or sleep, which would probably seem a bit confusing for the gladiators. How much do they know about both sides? Obviously enough for them to want to help get the brothers back together, but like.

How much do the gladiators believe Ranbob’s side. Are they wary, or skeptical, or do they believe it completely, and if so, why? 

How long was Ran left running, evading hunters, and how has that affected him? How many times do both brothers say something concerning, and how do they react to what the other says?

You’ve said Ranbob occasionally relapses and wants to return to Dream. Does this happen on the trip? And if so, how do the gladiators react to such a thing-depending on how much they know about the whole thing, I can imagine mixed reactions. How does Ran react?

How do both groups react to the new endermen hybrids? They seem to have dealt with different instincts before now, so seeing Ranbob trail the fishermen and Ran just pick up the gladiators must be a bit strange. 

What can Ranbob keep down? Not only was Dream in control, and not particularly careful with his body, but supplies were probably also somewhat limited when he did eat. So how has that affected him? 

Are there any nicknames within in the groups? How do the gladiators react to the schedule change, considering they had set times for so much before? How do the fishermen react to the new areas? What habits are/become shared, and what habits are restricted to one group.

In general, just...how the fishermen and the gladiators differ in lifestyles, basically. 

For another, in one of the earlier post, you mentioned both Isaac and Cletus wanted to return to Mizu. Isaac kind of gives me a historian vibe himself, or some sort of archaeologists. Just a kind of person who wants to learn about history-perhaps something to do with the fact that he was played by Karl, and the whole time traveler thing. 

But anyway, what exactly did those two want to do down there? Explore, learn, steal?

And how would you say everyone’s personalities are like? Will you be introducing anymore characters, Tales or otherwise. It’d be interesting to see a Pit version of Tommy, or Puffy, or such.

How does Ran react when he finally accepts the truth, and what exactly pushes him to that? 

Hope this isn’t too many questions. I’m pretty invested, not gonna lie.

And seriously, I don’t mind the length. Long or short, I’m really just happy to hear more about your AU, and I look forward to more.

[georgescatcafe]

but i keep my hands (’til you come into the water)

rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: georgenap genres/tags: barista george, fluff, humor, flirting, friendship, communication, getting together word count: 22,064 summary: George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.”

Or, the one where George is a barista, Dream is Sapnap's best friend, and Sapnap just feels a lot.

+ao3

;;

The first attempt is a disaster. Sapnap should’ve expected it, the object of his desires completely different from who he usually chases after. For one thing, it’s a guy, for another, he’s got his arms crossed, fingers digging harshly into his arms, brows furrowed, lips downturned in a frown. Usually, when someone catches Sapnap’s interest, they paint a more pleasant picture.

Yeah. Not this one.

“I’m working,” he snaps. “I get it, but I really don’t like being flirted with at work.”

“You’re so upfront,” Sapnap replies, smile still on his lips, though he’s certain his ears are turning red as more people turn to look at him where he leans against the counter, probably about to be completely eviscerated by this barista. “I like that.”

He’s not eviscerated. His fate is even worse.

He gets ignored.

“Julia,” George calls, placing down the drink handed to him.

Sapnap steps out of the way as a petite girl with blonde hair takes the drink from the other, delicate fingers curling around the cup, golden-tipped fingers contrasting against the pink of her drink. Sapnap finds himself fighting against the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, remembering something about Dream saying that’s an obvious display of insecurity. And Sapnap isn’t insecure.

He just doesn’t like the way George smiled at the girl as she walked away.

“It’s called customer service, idiot,” Dream tells him later, the two of them having agreed to meet at the library so Dream doesn’t have to smell the coffee that wafts a good way out past the entrance of the Starbucks Sapnap frequents. Sapnap rolls his eyes as he takes a long sip of his vanilla frap, not fully convinced.

“It’s just,” he finally says, drink set carefully down on the table, “it’s like… why did he smile at her like that, when you could barely hear her ‘thank you,’ yet he doesn’t even look at me?”

“Maybe because he told you to leave him alone and you didn’t?” Dream suggests, taking Sapnap’s cup and drawing a smiley face in the condensation. He presents it to the other, only for Sapnap to groan and rub it away. He’s not exactly in the mood for cutesy shit. He says as much.

Dream looks unimpressed. “I’m just saying,” he draws another smiley on the opposite side of the cup, “try respecting his boundaries next time.”

“But I only know him as the barista from Starbucks,” Sapnap whines. “How am I supposed to flirt with him if I only see him when he’s working?”

“Break,” Dream replies, easy.

“Ah.”

Dream sets down Sapnap’s cup, the new smiley still there. “Yeah,” he says, “ah.”

;;

Dream had also advised him to maybe read the barista’s nametag and find out his name, so that’s the first thing Sapnap does when he walks in on Wednesday, eyes going directly to the little plaque on the barista’s apron. GEORGE. Sapnap bites his lip. He can work with that.

“Welcome to Starbucks, would you be interested in trying any of our—oh.” Sapnap looks up from the nametag to see George’s eyes on him, face devoid of any emotion other than perhaps vague disappointment.

“Hi,” Sapnap says.

George’s lips press together, and it’s not a frown, so Sapnap takes it as a smile.

“One venti vanilla frap please.”

“Name?”

“Come on,” Sapnap says. “You so remember my name.”

George hums, brows furrowing as he enters the order into the computer. “You’re right. Something like… ‘nuisance’?”

Sapnap frowns.

“My bad,” George says. “It was ‘annoyance,’ wasn’t it?”

“Ha ha,” Sapnap replies, crossing his arms. “It’s—”

“Sapnap, I know.” George taps the screen and Sapnap tries not to flush at the sight of his wrists. It’s not like they were hidden. It’s not like George is some Victorian lady. Jeez. Embarrassing. And then—

“‘I know’?” he quotes. “So you remembered my name.”

“Kind of hard to forget,” George replies, “since you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he tries, “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were.”

“I’m just determined.”

“Determined?” George repeats, unamused. Sapnap nods. George gives him a long look up and down (and it’s not checking him out, not even close, but Sapnap pretends that’s the case, straightening up and hoping the lighting makes him look good) before sighing and motioning to the person next in line.

Sapnap is ready to continue speaking, but then he remembers the main point of Dream’s advice and instead just rolls his eyes, finding an empty table near the window. 

Better? a text from Dream reads.

Duh, his name is George

George

Yes, George , Sapnap glances up at the barista, who’s now taking the order of a guy definitely taller than Sapnap, and judging by the size of his arms, probably stronger too, and when he walks away, George’s eyes definitely follow him, lips curled into a smile not like the one he wore when the blondie left, but rather… oh, come on. Dude what the hell

What

Sapnap doesn’t take a picture, but he does try his best to describe the other customer to Dream. George was like..drooling over him what the hell!

I doubt it

When Sapnap looks up again, George is most definitely not wiping any drool away from his mouth, instead wearing a polite smile as he takes an older woman’s order. It’s as if Sapnap made up the smile he wore watching that guy walk away.

Ok, he concedes, maybe not drooling, but he definitely like… I dont think Im his type :(

As if u ever gave up that easily, Dream’s reply is fast, and Sapnap smiles as the thinking dots appear. You’re fine, just be yourself and respect his boundaries. I know you, you’re a great guy Sap you’ve got this

He’s right. About… everything. Sapnap slips his phone into his pocket right before he hears his name called. It’s not George calling out the drinks today, whoever was missing the other day now returned to their normal shift. Sapnap accepts the drink with an easy thank you and is about to walk away before he’s struck with an idea.

“Um, excuse me,” he calls to the woman who’s already started to head back to the espresso machine. She turns around and makes her way back over to the counter anyway, brows raised, anticipating Sapnap’s question.

Sapnap leans in some, unsure if he wants George to hear what he’s about to ask or not.

“Um, George,” he starts, and, oh, that’s not a good look. He presses on anyway. “When is… do you know his breaktime?”

“I do,” the woman replies, and Sapnap is ready to be pleasantly surprised, the amount of information this employee is ready to give more than expected, but then she continues, “but legally I’m not allowed to share it with you, and even if I could, I don’t think I would.”

Sapnap tries his best to swallow his disappointment. He’s not sure how he ended up so dumb with hope anyway. “Right,” he says. “Sorry for asking.”

“I suggest not doing it again,” she replies easily, but before she walks away she gives him a soft smile, “but it’s fine.”

Sapnap returns her smile, even as he feels an itch at the base of his neck, only growing as heat spreads under his skin. He’s quick to make his way back to the table, fingers wrapped tight around his frap.

He tries his best not to watch George, appearing as disinterested as he can, up until the other switches places with another employee, now going around cleaning up tables. Sapnap’s been people watching, eyes determinedly looking anywhere but at George, but that fails when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, a napkin falling to the floor, just in reach of Sapnap’s foot. Stretching the tiniest bit, Sapnap catches the napkin under his shoe, pulling it over to him so he can pick it up and throw it away himself. He almost makes a comment to George about his cleaning skills, always one to tease, no matter who it is he’s teasing, but then the napkin flops over the back of his hand and he sees ink on paper.

Mon-Th 8am-4pm break @ 10 lunch @ 12 break @ 2

Sapnap has no idea when George wrote that, if it was while he was still taking orders or if he wrote it while Sapnap kept his eyes out the window, but when he looks up, he finds the barista already watching him, now back behind the till, cheeks pink even as he holds Sapnap’s gaze. Sapnap smiles, waving the napkin in an I got it! gesture. George doesn’t smile back, just looks down at the register, then up at the customer that walks in a second later.

That’s fine. Sapnap shoves the napkin into his pocket. This is progress.

 When he’s about to leave, hand pressed against the glass door, he turns. George is looking down, but Sapnap can see the tips of his ears, the slope of his nose. Pink. Bright, pretty pink.

He smiles. Definitely progress.

;;

“So you want me to flirt with you, then?” Sapnap asks, leaning his hip against the edge of the table George sits at, the barista looking at something on his phone.

“No, not really,” George replies, not looking up from the device.

Sapnap sits in the seat across from him. “But I can flirt with you now, right?” he asks. “Since you’re not technically working right now?”

“I’m being paid for this,” George says. “It’s ten minutes. Money is going into my bank account, right now.” He finally looks up at the other, eyes wide in emphasis. “That means I’m working.”

“Boo,” Sapnap immediately snaps. “You just don’t want to admit that you want me.”

George makes a face.

“Want me flirting with you,” Sapnap clarifies, though he wouldn’t mind George wanting him. (He even hopes for that, honestly.) “You want me to flirt with you.”

“Quit making assumptions, you weirdo.”

Sapnap laughs. “You sound like my friend.”

“Oh, really?” George asks. “Maybe we’d get along then.”

“Me and you?” 

George gives him a dry look. “No, you idiot, me and your friend.”

“Well, you’re not going to meet him,” Sapnap replies.

“What, is he better looking than you?” George asks. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Hey!” Sapnap cries indignantly. “What does that mean?” George merely raises a brow. “And no , he’s not. I just… he doesn’t like coffee.”

“And that means he can’t come inside?” George asks.

“He gets, like, really nauseous if he smells it,” Sapnap explains “After I come here, I usually end up meeting him at, like, the library or something.”

“Oh, are you guys students?” At this, George sits up, leaning forward slightly over the table. Sapnap wonders if he’d be allowed to copy the other’s posture, or if it’d make George lean away. He decides not to risk it.

“I am,” he says. “My friend isn’t.”

“H’m,” George says.

“Yeah,” Sapnap replies. “H’m.”

He smiles at the smile that spreads on George’s lips, even as the other looks away, tucking his chin into his collar in an attempt to hide it further. “Stop it,” George says, muffled as he speaks into fabric. “Stop that.”

“I’m just looking at you,” Sapnap replies.

George glances at him from the corner of his eye. “I know,” he says. “Stop it.”

Though he doesn’t want to, he does. “So are you a student too?” he asks.

“Alum,” he replies. “Graduated last year.”

“Ooh,” Sapnap says. “Teach me all that you know.”

“You don’t even know what I majored in,” George replies. “What if we took, like, completely different classes?”

“Unimportant,” Sapnap says. “I was just trying to find an excuse to spend more time with you.”

“I—,” George is cut off by a persistent beeping. The two look down at the phone on the table. “Oh,” George turns off the timer. “Back to work.”

“I thought you said you’re still technically working?” Sapnap asks, knowing the grin he’s wearing is infuriating.

George’s eyes narrow as he looks at Sapnap before he shakes his head. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re the one who talked to me for ten minutes,” Sapnap replies easily.

George doesn’t reply, instead just shaking his head once more, heading back to the counter, where he grabs his apron and goes to tie it around his (oh God, small) waist. Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut, thinking, before he gets up from his chair. The place is relatively empty for ten in the morning. “It’s compsci,” he says as George finally comes to stand at the register. “I’m a compsci major.” George looks up at him from across the room, startled. “In case you were, you know, actually wondering.” He can feel his confidence drain out of him the longer the other continues to stare blankly at him. “Um, yeah.” He lifts a hand to wave goodbye, and he’s about to walk out when George replies:

“Wait, Sapnap,” he turns around to see George watching him, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, “if you actually do want help ever, uh, I can do that. For you.”

Sapnap wants to reply, wants to say thank you or maybe even you, me, library tomorrow at six?, but instead he stays silent, and the moment passes, George inserting something into the computer, Sapnap clearly dismissed.

;;

“I fucked up,” he says immediately to Dream, sinking into his seat at the small diner on the corner of Mulberry and 11th, convenient for its equidistance from his dorm and Dream’s apartment.

“You really could’ve gotten a date, and instead you just stood there,” Dream says, a vague echo of Sapnap’s retelling.

“You’re making fun of me right now,” Sapnap whines.

“No,” Dream says. Sapnap looks up at him from between his fingers. The corner of Dream’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

Sapnap groans, pushing his face further into his hands.

“No, no, it’s not that bad,” Dream tries. “Come on, man, no moping at Sally’s. You’re literally eating cheesecake pancakes right now. You can’t mope.”

“I’m not moping,” Sapnap immediately replies. “I’m mourning.” He pulls his hands away from his face, instead pressing the tips of his fingers to his temples. “Mourning the relationship that never was.”

“Is this what you’re like when you actually have to work for a relationship?” Dream asks. He steals a strawberry off of Sapnap’s plate. “I don’t know if I like this dude.”

“George?” Sapnap asks.

“No,” Dream says, stealing another strawberry, “you.”

“Considering you’re still here, I think you like him well enough.” Sapnap lifts a brow as Dream goes to sneak another strawberry, blocking the other’s fork with his own. Metal clinks against metal.  Dream accepts defeat, going back to his waffles.

“We all have our ups and downs,” Dream finally declares. “That was a bad day—”

“But it was going so well!”

“Okay, then things got thrown off with the alarm—”

“Timer.”

“—going off,” Dream eats another bite of waffles, “so basically: don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it,” Sapnap says, just to be contradictory.

Dream knows what he’s doing, so instead of replying, he just finishes off the first of his waffles. Sapnap glares down at his own meal before spearing a piece of pancake.

“I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” Dream says.

Shit.

;;

He resigns himself to waiting until Monday to see George again, only to find himself stopping short when walking to his dorm from the library, spotting a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches that line the commons.

“George?” he calls, before he can decide if interacting outside of the four walls of the Starbucks they’re so used to is a good idea.

George looks up, slipping his phone in his pocket, eyes obviously wide even when hidden behind a pair of—

“Are those clout goggles?” Sapnap asks, biting back a laugh.

George crosses his arms, stretching his legs out (though they don’t reach particularly far, Sapnap affectionately notes) and leaning back on the bench. “Maybe,” he replies.

Sapnap stops holding back his laughter, letting it spill out freely as George’s face goes through a range of expressions, from a frown to a smile to a grimace to something of a cross between all three.

“If you’re done,” he says when Sapnap’s laughter has turned more into sporadic giggles.

“I’m sorry,” Sapnap immediately replies, though it’s clear the words mean nothing. He’s certain if he could see George’s eyes clearly through his lenses, the other would be rolling them. “It’s cute,” he almost says, but something stops him, the words turning into, “It’s fine. They suit you.”

One of George’s hands comes up to adjust the glasses, the twist of his lips finally turning into a smile. “Really?” he asks, hand pulling away from the frames to instead rest his fingers lightly against the plastic, but Sapnap isn’t paying attention to the glasses at all, eyes instead locked on the delicate bones of George’s wrist.

“Yeah,” he says anyway. George’s hand falls back to his lap. “So,” Sapnap says, now that the immediate distraction is gone, coming back into himself, “what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you were wanting to see my face again.”

“Um.” George looks away, at a tree that Sapnap knows is behind him, at the ground, the railing of the bench, at an acorn that lay a few feet away. Sapnap tries not to let the hope grow in him, even though the silence only continues to stretch on.

The hope finally breaks loose, and he asks it: “Did you really come here just to see me?”

“Not… entirely,” George replies. Sapnap gives him a disbelieving look, and George is quick to defend himself. “No, really!” he says. “I live in the area, and this… it’s nice, isn’t it?” He motions to the commons. “It’s, like, cool outside now, and the sun isn’t, like, really hot or anything. It’s nice.”

“But you said ‘not entirely,’” Sapnap says, “so that means I was part of the reason?”

“I didn’t expect to see you,” George sighs. “But if—if—I did see you, I wouldn’t be opposed to, like, hanging out or, um, something.”

“Okay,” Sapnap says easily, taking a seat on the bench next to him. Now that he’s beside George, he can see his eyes better underneath his glasses, and he doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares. “So what do you want to do?”

George gives a noncommittal shrug. 

Sapnap sighs. They sit in a tense silence, Sapnap itching to say something, George… Sapnap isn’t sure what he’s thinking. Although they’re sitting side by side, sometimes their shoes would brush against each other, edge of sole against edge of sole, and George would jump like he’s been shocked, bringing Sapnap’s eyes back to him every time. Finally, Sapnap gives another sigh and says, “I spy… with my little eye… something… blue.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees George tense. And then.

“The sky?”

“Nope!” Sapnap answers, popping the ‘p’. “Try again.”

George hums quietly, head moving the tiniest bit as he surveys the area. “There,” he says, pointing, “those flowers.”

“Got it,” Sapnap smiles, “your turn.”

George looks around, a single finger tapping on his jean-clad thigh. Sapnap refuses to follow the movement. “I spy,” George begins, “with my little eye something that starts with P.”

Sapnap looks around, searching for whatever George could have chosen. Then a bark rings through the air, and his head snaps around to look at the dog darting across the commons to get to a girl kneeled in the grass. “That puppy,” Sapnap replies, smug.

“Yup.” George nods, glancing over at Sapnap as he picks out something.

“I spy with my little eye,” he starts, angling himself more towards George, “something green.”

George falters. “Grass?” he tries, a slight smile on his face.

Sapnap laughs. “No,” and then out of a rush of courage he’s not sure from where, he reaches up to pluck the leaf out of George’s hair, holding it up between the two of them.

George scoffs. “That’s not even fair. I can’t see that. And was that in my hair this entire time?”

Sapnap shakes his head, flicking it away from them, the leaf dancing idly in the air before twirling to the ground. “Nah. It must have happened sometime last round.”

“Ah.” George finally takes off his sunglasses, pushing them up onto the top of his head. “Well, still not fair. I can’t even see green.”

“What?” Sapnap doesn’t mean for it to come out as a laugh, but it does. “What do you mean you can’t see green?”

“I’m colorblind, asshole,” George doesn’t shove him, but his hand does lift and make a weak motion towards him. “When you started with a color, I figured this wouldn’t last long.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Sapnap asks, hand coming down on the bench next to him so he can lean towards George.

“You said blue; it was fine,” George replies. “Besides,” he gives a shrug, “I just said the letter the word starts with. If I did it every time, maybe you would too.”

“Weird,” Sapnap says, the word coming out on a whistle.

“Not as weird as you,” George easily fires back.

Sapnap rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, settling back on the bench once more. They sit in a companionable silence for another second before he remembers.

“Hey, uh,” George looks over at him, and wow, have his eyes always been that deep, wide and round and shining like honey in the bright sun, “my friend and I, the one that doesn’t like coffee, we’re meeting up for dinner. Would you… maybe want to come? Just so you can meet him. You know. We hang out a lot. And stuff.”

George seems to consider it before he nods. “If your friend is fine with it, why not?”

Sapnap sends Dream a quick text to ask, though he knows the other will say yes. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” he asks, even though he and Dream were just going to meet at, like, a McDonald’s.

“Not that I know of,” George replies.

“Awesome,” Sapnap says.

“Yup,” George agrees.

And… it’s awkward again.

“Got any other plans?” he asks, just to break the silence.

“Not really,” George says. “Fridays are usually pretty uneventful.”

“No one asking you to any parties?”

At that, George gives a quiet laugh. “Not really a partying type of person.”

“Really?” Sapnap asks, eyes wide. “I never would’ve guessed.”

George looks over at him, brows high, before he realizes it was sarcasm, making him roll his eyes. “Oh my God, you’re so annoying.”

“I’m not the one who agreed to spend more time with me.” 

George doesn’t reply, but when Sapnap glances at him, he’s got a small smile on his lips, cheeks pink and not, Sapnap is pretty sure, because of the sun.

;;

Sapnap thinks he should be jealous. He’s, like, really sure he’s supposed to be jealous.

Dream and George meet and hit it off immediately, falling into an easy banter that Sapnap watches like a tennis match, a constant smile on George’s face, laughter spilling out past his lips like a waterfall. 

They get along like a house on fire or whatever the phrase is, and Sapnap is left to breathe in the smoke. Yet he’s not choking and he’s not jealous.

Because every time George says something that sends Dream into a fit of laughter, he’ll glance over at Sapnap, eyes bright and smile wide, as if to check that he has Sapnap’s attention too, that he has Sapnap laughing right along with them.

Sapnap wonders if Dream notices, if he catches these moments between them, but if he does, he never comments on it, instead continuing to talk to George like they’ve known each other for thirty years and not thirty minutes.

By the time they finish their food, George and Dream have exchanged numbers and are planning another time to hang out.

“It sucks about the coffee thing,” George says to Dream, head tilted back so they can make eye contact. It’s endearing, but Sapnap does feel a slight pain in his chest when he realizes their one inch difference in height means he doesn’t get the same experience. 

“Yeah,” Dream agrees, “honestly it’s just, like, really inconvenient because I don’t like coffee in the first place, but you’re telling me I can’t even be near it?” George gives a sympathetic smile, and Dream backtracks. “If you ever want, I’m sure I can stomach it for, like, a minute or two, but—”

“It’s fine,” George cuts him off. “I can meet you wherever you want. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Dream asks, looking apologetic.

“It’s fine,” George repeats. “So next Tuesday? When I get off work?”

“Yeah,” Dream confirms. “I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“Same here.” George gives him a smile. “It’ll be fun kicking your ass.”

“Oh, right, like you’re going to win,” Dream scoffs. “Right.”

“You’ll see,” George crosses his arms, “just wait.”

“Whatever.” Dream gives a laugh before shouldering his backpack. “Alright,” he says to both George and Sapnap this time. “I’m going to head out. Patches is probably wondering why she hasn’t been fed yet.”

George laughs as Sapnap lifts his hand in an easy wave.

Dream waves back then heads out, leaving George and Sapnap alone.

George turns to Sapnap.

“So,” Sapnap says, “what’d you think?”

“He’s nice,” George replies, and then, “thanks for, uh, inviting me.”

“Of course, dude,” Sapnap says because what else do you call the guy you like, other than dude? He blinks. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

George gives a hesitant smile. “Maybe.”

“You’re not, like, intruding on anything,” Sapnap immediately goes to reassure. “We do this, like, all the time. It’s really not a big deal.”

“I didn’t think I was.” George collects his trash, “but thanks for putting the idea in my head.”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” Sapnap follows his lead as they throw out the wrappers from the burgers. “Anyway,” he opens the door for George, who ducks his head in silent thanks, before following after him, “what about me?”

“What about you?” George asks.

“Your number,” Sapnap answers, “I want it.”

“You think I give it out just like that?” George’s brows are raised in disbelief as Sapnap scoffs.

“You did it for Dream, and he didn’t even ask!”

“Okay, and?”

“You’re so mean to me, George,” Sapnap whines, crossing his arms. “See if I ever talk to you again.”

“Oh because that’s just the worst possible outcome for me,” George laughs.

“What the hell?” Sapnap uncrosses his arms to instead fling them out at his sides. “I thought we had fun today! We played I spy!”

“Yes,” George says, “because that is the exact definition of fun.”

“Well,” Sapnap crosses his arms again, “ I had fun. Sorry that you didn’t.”

In his performance, he had closed his eyes, but when he opens them again, his heart is quick to skip a beat upon seeing the soft smile on George’s face as he looks at him. His eyes are no longer turned to gold by the sun, but instead are dark like the coffee he serves, and Sapnap only finds himself looking away from them to instead drop his gaze to the other’s lips. They’re a soft pink, and they’re full, and Sapnap finds himself wondering what they’d feel like on his own.

“It’s,” and then a slew of numbers that Sapnap doesn’t catch. He finally meets George’s eyes again.

“What was it?” he asks, pulling out his phone. George rolls his eyes, giving a quiet laugh, before repeating his numbers as Sapnap rushes to add him to his contacts. When he’s done, he sends a quick text to George (Hiiii :D) to which George doesn’t answer but does make a show of blocking the number (then immediately unblocking it).

“Anyway,” Sapnap shoves his hands in his pockets, Dream’s advice be damned, and gives a slight whistle, “walk you home?”

George shifts his weight, readjusting his jacket, before nodding. “Alright.”

Sapnap smiles. George starts walking.

;;

George’s apartment is nice. Not too far from the Starbucks he works at (not too far from Sapnap’s dorm) and it’s in a quieter part of the city. The two of them stand in silence on the front step.

“So,” George says.

“So,” Sapnap agrees.

A second. Two seconds.

George makes a small noise that has Sapnap ready to ask if he’s alright when George’s hand suddenly smacks against his cheek. Sapnap immediately reaches up to cradle the reddening skin. “Did you just slap me?” He thinks the slight crack in his voice is warranted.

George’s eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “No. Oh my God. I wasn’t… it was a,” and then he makes a motion, like he’s pressing a kiss to his fingers, then lifting them as if he were to press that kiss to—

“You couldn’t have just kissed me like a normal person?” Sapnap is trying not to sound accusatory or angry because he’s not, but what the hell.

“It’s—I didn’t—look, fuck, I’m sorry.” George wraps his fingers around Sapnap’s arm to tug his hand away from his cheek. “Here, look, shit, I—,” and then he’s got his lips on Sapnap’s cheek and any pain Sapnap’s feeling is gone. George’s lips are warm against his skin, and when he pulls away, his eyes are still shut, fluttering open only once he’s back within his own space. Sapnap stares at him with wide eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal,” George says.

“It was kind of cute,” Sapnap tries, heart pounding in his chest. “But only kind of.”

“Whatever,” George says, “I’ll see you Monday, Sapnap.”

“Will you kiss me then too?” Sapnap asks.

George shakes his head, shoving past Sapnap to get to his front door, pulling out his key and unlocking it. “Goodnight, Sapnap,” he says.

“Goodnight, George,” Sapnap replies.

George turns around, looking at him from right inside the door. Sapnap stares back. George opens his mouth, as if he plans to say something, but only ends up closing it again, shaking his head and turning to go further inside, shutting the door behind him.

Sapnap stands there on the front step for another second before shaking his head, the ghost of a response to whatever George left unsaid, deciding to take the long way home.

;;

Monday comes quickly, and after class Sapnap finds himself making his way to Starbucks, just in time for George’s lunch break. He wonders if thirty minutes is enough for him to take George somewhere, nothing fancy, just something quick, but then he’s inside and George is sitting at a table on the far wall, lunchbox open in front of him.

“Boo,” Sapnap says, sliding into the seat across from him, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch with me.”

“I’m good, thanks,” George says.

“I can see that.”

He watches as George peels away layers of cling wrap around his sandwich.

“So how was class?” George asks, right before he takes a bite.

“Ugh,” Sapnap crosses his arms and rests his head atop them, closing his eyes, “I don’t know why I do it sometimes.”

“What, go to school?” Based on what he hears, Sapnap assumes George has peeled away more cling wrap.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Deep down you enjoy it,” George says, “and it’s for your future.”

“You went to school,” Sapnap starts, “and now you work at Starbucks.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you said on Friday.”

“I didn’t say anything Friday,” George says.

“You’re right,” Sapnap sits back up, “you didn’t say anything because you were too busy kissing me.”

“Yeah because a kiss on the cheek totally equals making out on the couch,” George snorts as he takes another bite of his sandwich. “Right.”

Sapnap grins. “Duh.” When George just rolls his eyes and opens a bag of chips, Sapnap is quick to steal one. “Anyway, we have a quiz Friday that I am not looking forward to.”

“I don’t think anyone looks forward to quizzes,” George slaps his hand away when it swoops in for another chip, “are you ready for it?”

“Define ‘ready,’” Sapnap replies. At George’s unimpressed look, Sapnap shrugs. “I mean, as ready as I can be.”

“That’s better than ‘not at all,’” George sighs. “Tell me how it goes?”

“Obviously.” Sapnap smiles when George allows him another chip. “So what about you? How’s your morning gone?”

“It’s gone,” George says. And then he pauses. “I got a girl’s number.”

“Oh,” Sapnap says, because that’s all he can think to say.

“She, like, wrote it on the receipt, I guess when Sarah was talking to me, and when she left, she just… left it on the counter.” Sarah, as it turns out, is the woman who told Sapnap she’s not allowed to disclose George’s break times. Sapnap still feels prickles of irritation under his skin as George continues: “I threw it out.”

The prickles suddenly stop.

“You threw it out?”

George nods, nonchalant, popping another chip in his mouth and even offering the rest in the bag to Sapnap with a raised brow. Sapnap just shakes his head, ears still ringing from George’s words.

“Why?” he asks.

“Not interested,” George says, finishing off his chips. “Besides,” he says, getting up to toss the bag in the trash, “no flirting while I’m at work.” Sapnap hands him the cling wrap sitting on the table. George smiles as he grabs his lunchbox. “See you later, Sapnap.”

“What if I wanted to order something?” Sapnap calls as George gets himself situated behind the counter.

“You drink too much sugar,” George replies, putting on his customer service face as a middle-aged man walks in. “Welcome to Starbucks, would you…,” Sapnap lets the rest of the greeting fade into background noise as he watches George’s mouth move, his fingers dancing across the computer as the man places his order. After another second, he gives a stretch, then rises, giving George a smile and a wave as he heads out the door.

He comes back that afternoon only to be greeted by George’s furrowed brows and a cold drink shoved into his hands. “On the house,” George tells him as Sapnap stares down at the vanilla frap, the condensation that had gathered on the cup wetting his hands.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” George replies, pushing through the glass doors and holding one open for Sapnap. “So where to?”

Sapnap thinks. He hadn’t really thought of anything for them to do, mostly just wanting to see George again. Then he remembers neon lights and crummy carpet with space patterns on it, rockets and stars and moons. With the next step he takes, he moves the tiniest fraction closer to George. The backs of their hands brush together. Sapnap lets this happen a couple more times, and then—he takes George’s hand.

George just holds on tight.

Sapnap smiles. “I have somewhere.”

;;

They hold hands the entire way, and Sapnap tries not to let it get to him. George’s fingers are thinner than his, and not long after he had started to lead them in the direction of the arcade did George’s fingers slot their way between his. His palm is warm, pressed flat against Sapnap’s own, and every once in awhile Sapnap will say something that makes George laugh and his hand will come up as if to cover his mouth, the action aborted halfway to its destination when Sapnap’s arm goes taut, George letting their hands fall back between them. He still looks over at Sapnap though, eyes glittering, squinted, cheeks rosy.

It’s maybe the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen.

;;

Correction. George smiling (still, because George always looks nice smiling) colored by the neon lights is the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen. He’s almost tempted to take a picture of just George, just for him to have, him to cherish, but he knows George will hate it, George will watch him like a hawk over his shoulder as he deletes it, not letting up until he deletes it, and the effort isn’t worth it. Seeing George so displeased isn’t worth it.

So instead he crowds into George’s space, demanding a selfie, “to send to Dream! To make him jealous!”

Like that’s anywhere close to the truth. But he does send the selfie to Dream, who does reply with a >:(, and Sapnap laughs and shows George, who laughs then wanders over to the skee ball, and then that’s when Sapnap goes and changes the picture to his homescreen (because a lockscreen is too risky, because he knows George will definitely see it).

He lets George win at skee ball. And air hockey. And… this game isn’t even competitive, what the hell, but he lets George win at that too. (And okay, maybe sometimes George wins because he’s better, but it’s not like Sapnap would ever admit to that.)

When they leave, George is still giggly, fingers intertwined with Sapnap’s once again, but less passive, more with a purpose, more I’m holding your hand because I really want to hold your hand, because I like how your fingers feel between mine, because I like the way our skin touches, you’re here and so am I. It’s so deliberate, and Sapnap is dizzy from it.

They get dinner at a seedy, shitty pizza place, though the pizza is anything but, and then it’s back to Sapnap walking George home.

“You really don’t have to,” George says. “Your dorm is, like, right there,” he makes a general motion to the upcoming intersection.

“But I want to,” Sapnap says.

George sighs, but doesn’t say anything, even as they walk past the entrance of the university.

When they reach his apartment, Sapnap fakes nonchalance. “So,” he says, “are you going to make it a big deal?”

George crosses his arms.

Sapnap puts up his hands in front of him. “Just a question.” He smiles. “So are you?”

“You’re so annoying,” and then warm lips are on his cheek as fingers tangle into his shirt. “I hate you,” George says when he leans back. Sapnap looks down at where George still has a grip on his shirt, but when he meets George’s eyes again, the other doesn’t let go. Sapnap wants to take his face in his hands and press a kiss to his lips right then and there.

George’s gaze dropping down—to his lips, there’s no doubt about it, George is looking at his lips—is almost enough to make him do so.

But that would scare George away. He knows it would. So he leans back on his heels, smile on his lips. “Hate you too.” The soft lilt of his voice belies his words. He doesn’t mind. 

George’s eyes flit back up to Sapnap’s. Sapnap’s smile widens. George drops his hand from Sapnap’s shirt. “Thank you for today,” George finally says. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Sapnap reaches out, taking George’s hand in his own, finding that he quite missed the other’s touch, even if it’d only been a few seconds. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” George agrees, “we will.”

They stand there in silence, Sapnap holding George’s hand. George clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, “goodnight, Sapnap.”

Sapnap gives the other’s hand a squeeze. “Goodnight, George.” He drops George’s hand, their fingers dragging together until they’re not.

When their fingers finally part, George takes a breath then turns to unlock his door and head inside. Right before he shuts the door, Sapnap is treated to the sight of an eye turned liquid gold from the streetlights, a rich, amber color that leaves Sapnap tasting coffee and honey. “Goodnight, George,” he says one last time, and then, the door shuts and it’s just Sapnap out in the cold. He gives a smile to the closed door, then turns and starts the walk to his dorm.

;;

Sapnap ends up with what feels like fifty new assignments on Tuesday, and he knows Dream and George are meeting up after George’s shift ends, so he decides to forgo his usual trip to Starbucks and instead heads back to his dorm after shooting George a quick Have fun with dream :) text. 

When he reaches his room, his phone chimes in his pocket.

thanks, i’m gonna kick his ass

Sapnap huffs out a laugh before unlocking the door and heading inside, dropping his backpack onto the floor next to his desk then collapsing into his chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes before replying to the text.

Of course u will <3

Immediately, he gets a text back, and he thinks more about that than what the text actually says (gross, don’t ever send me a <3 ever again).

Just to be antagonistic, Sapnap grins and sends: Good luck baby xoxo mwah mwah mwah <3

Another instant reply: you’re so disgusting. talk to you later sapnap

Sapnap’s grin stays as he sets his phone down and pulls out the assignment he’s decided to tackle first. Sure, George may be annoyed by every text he sends, but he’s still replying right away, still replying at all—he totally doesn’t mean it. George totally loves texting him, he’s sure of it. Sapnap gets out his laptop and goes to Blackboard as he thinks about George on Monday, the way he’d sometimes lean into Sapnap, the clean scent of his laundry detergent settling into Sapnap’s heart and the occasional press of his cheek against Sapnap’s leaving a permanent warmth under his skin.

He goes through his assignments in a daze, Java getting mixed with java and graphs getting interrupted by George. Only the sound of his phone going off—a call from Dream—breaks him out of it, little numbers and letters dancing behind his eyes as he blinks and answers the phone.

“Yeah?”

“George and I are getting something to eat, do you want us to bring anything to your dorm?”

“You don’t have to,” Sapnap replies, even as his stomach rumbles and roars at him to eat.

“You’re right,” Dream agrees, “but I’m not doing this for myself.”

Sapnap blinks. “George,” he says, and Dream gives a quiet hum. “Where’re you guys getting food from?”

“Taco Bell, maybe,” Dream replies. “There’s one on the way to your dorm.”

“Across the street, yeah,” Sapnap agrees. “Then can I get a Cheesy Gordita Crunch with two soft chicken tacos, a steak quesadilla, cinnamon twists, and a Baja Blast?”

Dream repeats it back to him with an, “alright,” at the end, and Sapnap tells him he’ll pay him back when they get to his dorm. “Sounds good,” Dream replies. “See you in a bit.”

“See you,” Sapnap agrees, then the call disconnects, and Sapnap is left in a messy as hell room with George on his way. “Shit,” Sapnap says, looking at the weeks-old laundry spilling out of his wardrobe and the assortment of half-drunk Gatorades and water bottles littering the shelf above his desk. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He grabs his trash can from where it sits at the foot of the bed, lifting it to the edge of the shelf and just pushing all the bottles into it, some of them falling past the edge and hitting the floor. He groans as he bends over to grab them and put them into the trash properly. When that’s done, he knows he’s not going to be able to run a full two and some loads of laundry before Dream and George get to his dorm, so he deems the laundry a lost cause and shoves it as best he can back into the wardrobe, his hamper buried under weeks of unwashed clothes. Oh well. At least his room doesn’t smell.

Sapnap freezes. Does it?

He shakes his head. No. It doesn’t. It’s fine. Besides, his room isn’t that bad. And George is a guy; he probably lived in the dorms, he knows the horrors of a bunch of dudes crowded in one building. It’s fine.

A knock on the door makes him look up from where he’d been staring a hole into his bedsheets, wondering if remaking his bed (he had put it together haphazardly that morning, more for a sense of productivity than any need for cleanliness, the sheets wrinkled and pillows slouched awkwardly) would be worth it. He supposes the interruption is answer enough. Leaving the bed as is, he unlocks the door, swinging it open to see George standing there holding three paper bags, two drinks under his left arm.

“Hi,” Sapnap says.

“Hi,” George replies, angling himself to allow Sapnap to take a bag from him. “These drinks are really cold.”

“Here,” Sapnap grabs the green one, immediately lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. “Almost as refreshing as seeing you.”

George stares at him before making his way into Sapnap’s room, setting the two bags down then taking out a napkin and setting his drink on it. “You’re not funny.”

“You’re right,” Sapnap agrees, making George’s eyes widen as he looks over at him. “I’m hilarious.”

George’s parted lips fall into an unamused line. He scoffs, turning back to the bags and pulling out various Taco Bell items. “Here,” he says, handing Sapnap his quesadilla and cinnamon twists, “they threw some of our things in the same bag. Everything in the one you’re holding is yours, though.”

“Nice.” Sapnap sets down the bag to take the food, immediately getting started on his quesadilla.

“And Dream was going to come, but then he got a call from someone and said he had to go. He might’ve taken the hot sauce…?” He looks over at Sapnap with a raised brow, who glances into his bag.

“Nah. There’s sauce in here.”

“Cool,” George replies. “But yeah, it’s… it’s just us now, I guess.”

Sapnap glances over at him. George is staring down into his bag, fingers crumpling the paper. When George turns to look at him, Sapnap doesn’t turn away. George holds his gaze for a second before his ears turn a warm pink, and he ducks his head, reaching into his bag to pull out a Quesarito. 

“Uh,” Sapnap says, and then reaches across George to grab his wallet from the desk and pull out a ten. “For the food.” He holds it out to George.

George takes it, their fingers brushing and Sapnap’s pulse sent racing. 

“Thanks,” George says, “but Dream paid.”

Sapnap plucks the cash from George’s fingers. “Never mind then.”

George laughs, “rude,” before unwrapping his Quesarito and taking a bite. “So how are your classes going?”

Sapnap groans making a motion to the stack of assignments half-covered by an empty Taco Bell bag. “Terribly. I’m doing… fine. It’s just… so much work.”

“The worst,” George agrees, taking another bite. “Studying for the quiz?”

“What are you, my dad?” Sapnap asks, but at an unimpressed look from George, he sighs and leans back against his bed. “Yes.”

“Good,” George says, and then he says, “I kicked Dream’s ass by the way.”

“Like I said you would,” Sapnap replies, and when George looks at him from under dark lashes, he thinks about how easy it would be to lean forward and press a kiss to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose, Sapnap hesitates for the shortest second before his gaze drops lower—it’d be so easy to lean forward and press a kiss to George’s lips. When he meets George’s eyes again, they’re dark, and in the faint light, Sapnap can see his pupils blown wide. He swallows. George watches the movement.

Sapnap takes a breath. “I—”

And then George is on him, their mouths pressed hot against each other. Sapnap moves back, resting on the bed, as he tilts his head, angles it so that he can kiss George properly. It’s once he does this, once he brings a hand up to hold the back of George’s head, that George pulls away with a small breath. “This was a—”

“If you say ‘bad idea,’ you owe me ten bucks,” Sapnap says before he can finish.

George, flushed, glances up at him and huffs a small laugh. “Lapse in better judgement, then.”

“No take-backs,” Sapnap says, his left hand, which had settled on the curve of George’s hip, sliding up to hold the nape of George’s neck. “Okay?”

George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels it warm against his lips, a phantom of their kiss. “Okay.”

Sapnap smiles. “Good. So what’s wrong?” He wouldn’t normally talk it out, the other party throwing out their worries and Sapnap immediately going back in for the kill, lips on theirs and them preferably in the bed by now, but it’s okay if it’s George—if this takes longer than it normally would, that’s okay, and—George gives him a hesitant smile back—if the end result is more than a tumble in the sheets, that’s even better. (Not that that was ever the desired result, but for a time, Sapnap could’ve been content with just that. Not anymore, though. Not now.)

“I’ve never dated anyone,” George admits, “not seriously.”

“Like, you’re some type of player or…?” Sapnap lifts a brow as George sends him a look. He drops his hand to pull himself back and up onto his bed then pats the space next to him in a silent offering to George. George looks from his hand to his face then back a couple times before sighing and climbing onto the bed next to him. When George places his hands down at his side, his and Sapnap’s pinkies brush together. George takes another breath.

“I mean, I dated a girl in high school, if you could call it that,” George says. “More like I knew she had a crush on me and was doing what I was supposed to.” He makes a face and Sapnap wonders if it would be bad of him to curl their pinkies together, to take even more than that. Good or bad, he leaves his hands as they are, letting George continue. “It didn’t mean anything, and it was a high school relationship. Those are hardly legitimate.” He gives a slight eye roll. “So yeah, this is… kind of new to me.”

“That’s okay,” Sapnap says immediately. “I’ve never had a real relationship either.” 

It’s not the consolation Sapnap had planned for it to be. Sapnap wouldn’t say he sleeps around, or slept around, he’s not some kind of manwhore or anything, but the fact still stands that he’s definitely had more than one partner and most of those relationships did reach at least third base before he even hit the ball. That, in contrast to George’s high school hand-holding, is definitely a strike against him.

Sapnap shakes his head, dissipating the baseball metaphors beginning to sprawl in his mind. “But it’s something I want with you,” he amends. “I really like you, George. Like… I really like you.” He’s not sure if the second thing is what does it for George, but either way, he still takes Sapnap’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and resting their connected hands in his lap. Sapnap leans over just enough to have their shoulders touching.

“You really do annoy me sometimes, you know?” George asks, thumb rubbing smooth circles into Sapnap’s skin. “It’s like you go out of your way to do it, too. You can’t just… dial it back a bit. It’s really all or nothing with you.”

“I’m not known for doing things in halves, yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

George glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “Except for relationships,” he says. His voice is rough.

The smile that had started to grow on Sapnap’s face drops. “Yeah. Except for those.”

“I really like you too,” George finally admits, “and if you’re willing to try,” he squeezes Sapnap’s hand then looks over and meets his eyes, “I am too.”

;;

The soft atmosphere had broken not long after that, Sapnap’s stomach rumbling and George bursting into lilted giggles, nerves and hesitance coloring his every move after that. But when Sapnap offered to walk him home, George agreed, and they held hands the entire way, and when they reached George’s door, George scrunched his face up then grabbed Sapnap by the front of his jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss.

“For someone who’s never been in an actual relationship,” Sapnap had said, “your kisses are pretty hot.”

“Thanks,” George had said and then slammed the door in Sapnap’s face.

Sapnap didn’t mind, though; nah, he grinned the entire way home.

;;

The rest of the week flies by in a vanilla frap-flavored, headache-filled haze. George is certain the headaches are from all the sugar Sapnap intakes, but Sapnap is certain it’s from all the homework his professors assign and studying George pushes him to do.

“It’s not as if you wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t in the picture,” George tells him as he wipes down the table next to Sapnap’s. Sapnap has a lab report open on his laptop, his notes spread all out on the table before him. Half of the keyboard is covered by the paper, rendered unusable. 

Sapnap doesn’t have a good argument for that, but he also wants to keep George nearby. He leans back in his chair. “I’d have a headache with no remedy,” he says.

“Remedy, huh?” George asks, standing straight and arching a brow.

“Seeing your face is the only medicine I need,” Sapnap says, and then he throws in a, “pretty boy,” just because he wants to see what it’ll make George do.

Apparently, it makes his expression fall off his face and heat rise in its place, cheeks and ears glowing a bright pink even as he stutters out irritated (and empty) phrases, eventually giving the table a final furious once-over then disappearing into the kitchen to get rid of the dirtied rag. So basically, the words did the opposite of what he wanted, but in the end, Sapnap finds himself unable to consider it anything other than a win, mind now running through other opportunities to pull out the pet names.

George appears only when he’s about to leave, sending him off with a kiss on the cheek that’s really more an accidental brushing of lips against skin, but it’s enough for Sapnap, and he leaves the other with a smile and a promise to tell him how the quiz goes at dinner.

;;

Come dinner, Sapnap is halfway through explaining how he’s pretty sure he failed the quiz when George sits up in his seat and asks, “Is this a date?”

Sapnap freezes, mouth open and mid-word. “Do you want it to be a date?”

George huffs. “This isn’t really the wining and dining I expected, but—”

“I’m nineteen,” Sapnap tells him.

George sighs. “It was just an expression,” he says. “And I was going to say it’s fine. Everything here leaves something to be desired, but it’s fine.”

“Everything?” Sapnap asks, eyes widening coyly as he looks at the other.

“Everything,” George confirms. “Especially my date.”

Sapnap exaggerates a sad face and George rolls his eyes, throwing a fry at him, but he’s got a smile on his face, so Sapnap drops the act and grins back. “You’re so cute,” he tells the other, and George immediately seems to grow smaller, shoulders curving inwards, face angled down, his smile facing the floor instead of Sapnap, who observes this all with a quiet gaze.

“Shut up,” George says, the words on the end of a laugh.

“It’s true,” Sapnap replies. “I love looking at you. Even when you look dumb.”

“Excuse you,” George immediately snaps, finally looking back at Sapnap, “I never look dumb.”

“Oh,” Sapnap says, “you’re right. I meant when you look stupid.”

“What the hell?” George guffaws. “You’re actually so annoying. Shut up.”

“So you want me to shut up when I compliment you, and you want me to shut up when I insult you—what’s the truth?”

George looks at him, unimpressed. “The only conclusion is that I like you best when you say nothing at all.”

Sapnap scoffs. “Rude.”

“And yet.” George lifts a brow.

Sapnap gives a quiet exhale. “And yet,” he agrees.

;;

Dream stretches his legs out in front of him while Sapnap twists himself around to lean against Dream, back pressed against shoulder.

“How’s it going with George?” Dream asks, flicking through the channels on the TV, Sapnap watching the short frames he gets while taking nothing in.

“I think we’re a thing,” Sapnap replies, settling even further into Dream when he finally decides on a channel. It’s an old comedy from the 80’s, one Sapnap thinks his dad might’ve shown him when he was younger. Vaguely, he recalls falling asleep halfway through. He’ll try not to do that this time.

He feels Dream shift as he looks down at the younger. Sapnap can sense his eyes on the top of his head. “You think?” Dream asks, the words coming out slowly, as if he’s tasting every letter.

“We kissed,” Sapnap explains, “and we both talked about how we feel, and we went on a date, and he’s kissed me again since that first one. On the lips,” he adds hastily, just so Dream understands the severity of the situation.

“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Dream concludes.

“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Sapnap confirms.

Dream hums as a fanfare starts up in the movie. Sapnap takes a handful of popcorn from the bag on the coffee table in front of them.

“I think we’re taking it slow,” Sapnap continues. “Neither of us are good at relationships.”

“What do you mean?” Dream turns slightly, and Sapnap slips down his arm some. “You’re not good at relationships?”

“You know how it was,” Sapnap answers, “is.”

“Is it really that bad?”

Sapnap shrugs, scooting back up against Dream as he does so. “I’d think so. Someone like George would think so.”

“Where does that leave me?” Dream asks.

Sapnap doesn’t answer, eyes back on the TV screen. Dream huffs, but doesn’t push for one either. 

“It’s fine,” he finally says. “Whatever works best for you guys.”

Sapnap nods, and they don’t talk about George or Sapnap and George or relationships for the rest of the movie.

;;

This is new. Sapnap’s heart pounds heavy in his chest as George sits perched on his lap, hands flying across Sapnap’s keyboard as he types a command into the chatbox. Dream’s voice crackles through his speakers: “George! What the hell?”

“Oops,” George says, glancing back to share a conspiratorial look with Sapnap, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yes, you did,” Dream argues, his character finding George’s—who's really just using Sapnap’s character, but it’s whatever—and George running, even as Dream hits him over and over, beginning to take hearts. “You’re such an idiot, oh my God.”

George leans back against Sapnap’s chest, letting Dream kill him. “Fine,” he sighs, “we can do it your way. Whatever.” Sapnap smiles at the way his accent colors his words. George sends him a curious glance; Sapnap noses at the edge of his hairline in answer. George makes a small noise before leaning forward to get back into the game. Sapnap shifts, adjusting George on his lap so he can have some circulation in his thighs again. It’s not that George is heavy, no, George is fairly light, but George is bony, and for all Sapnap likes him and would in fact like to slip his hand in the other’s back pocket as they walk together, that doesn’t change the reality of George having a bony ass and it pressing into Sapnap’s lap.

When he’s got him where he wants, Sapnap curves himself over George, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. George feels warm all over, and when Sapnap tilts his head to take in the other’s profile, he sees it as a soft pink. Though George can’t really afford a free hand when PvPing Dream, he still lifts a hand to shove Sapnap’s head away.

Sapnap huffs and hooks his chin over the other’s shoulder. And then he gets the most terrible (wonderful) idea and angles his head so his nose is pressed into George’s neck and he’s starting to run kisses across the skin there. George breathes out a titter and lifts his shoulder to try and push Sapnap away. Sapnap grins and starts to climb his lips up the slender column of George’s neck. George gives a full-on giggle at this. “Stop,” he says, hand coming up to shove at Sapnap again, the lapse giving Dream a chance to hit George with his axe. “Sapnap,” George says when his kisses turn a bit rougher.

“What are you guys—,” and then George gives another breathless laugh and Dream makes a disgusted noise. “Seriously?” he asks. “In the middle of my Minecraft PvP?”

“Sorry,” George gasps, shoving at Sapnap with an urgency now, brows knitting and lips losing their smile for a frown instead. Sapnap gives one final nip to George’s neck before relenting, letting George stand from his lap and glare down at him. It holds for another second before George turns back to the computer. “I’ll be back on in a bit, is that okay?”

Dream makes a noise of confirmation then ends the call. George turns back to Sapnap. 

“Too far?” Sapnap asks.

George scrutinizes him, eyes narrowed, before he sits back down on Sapnap’s lap, this time angled towards him. When Sapnap puts his hands on his hips, George makes a face. Sapnap drops his hands. “I know I kissed you first,” George finally says, not quite meeting Sapnap’s eyes. “So I should be okay with all this.” He finally manages to make eye contact, holding it as he speaks. “But I’m not.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“You can tell me when it’s too much,” Sapnap tells him, but at George’s look, he sucks in a breath. “You did.”

“I was—I didn’t seem like I meant it,” George says. “I know. And, um, I guess I didn’t. Not really, not at first, but—”

“I still should’ve.” Sapnap lifts a hand, looking from it to George’s eyes then back. George gives a nod, and Sapnap sets his hand on George’s side, fingers resting in the spaces between George’s ribs. He feels George’s chest expand and contract with every breath he takes.

“We could,” George ducks his head, “have a sign, or a word, or something, and if one of us does it, the other stops,” he meets Sapnap’s eyes again, “would that work?”

Sapnap’s brows raise, jaw dropping slightly. “George…,” he says, “did you just suggest we employ a safeword?” 

George splutters. “No? I mean—I guess, but not like that! Just… yes or no?”

“Butterscotch,” Sapnap says.

“What?” George makes a face.

“When it’s too much,” Sapnap explains, “just say you want butterscotch.”

“It sounds like a euphemism.” The word drips distasteful from George’s tongue.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “But that’s what makes it good !” He slides his fingers from George’s side around to his back, watching George’s face all the while. When George doesn’t stop him—physically or with butterscotch—Sapnap brings his other arm around George, holding him. “People will think we’re going to fuck or something, but actually we’re doing the opposite!”

“That or they’ll think we’re sugar addicts,” George scoffs, making Sapnap laugh.

“One of those,” Sapnap agrees. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

George looks at him, disappointment clear on his features. Sapnap smiles. George’s facade breaks; he smiles back. “It’s dumb,” he says.

“You always look dumb,” Sapnap replies. “No one will think anything.”

George sighs. Sapnap feels the movement against his chest, beneath his fingertips. “Fine,” George finally concedes. “Butterscotch.”

Sapnap smiles back then leans forward till their noses touch and their breath intermingles as George inhales then says, “If there’s ever been a better time to say the opposite of butterscotch, it’d be now.” Sapnap kisses him. George’s eyes slip shut, hands coming up to tangle slender fingers into the ends of Sapnap’s hair, and returns the kiss.

Eventually, George calls Dream again and the two of them start up their game again, George back to his perch at the edge of Sapnap’s lap, and this time Sapnap doesn’t kiss him, but George lets him run his fingers up and down his sides, and Sapnap delights in the little shivers and shudders George does every time. George and Dream end the day on a tie, the last win one of Dream’s. George’s consolation is a kiss pressed to his temple, but then George says that’s not enough and decides Dream and Sapnap owe him dinner.

“Both of us?” Sapnap asks as Dream groans on the other line.

George nods.

“Why me?” Sapnap makes the best pleading face he can. 

George is made of stone. “Friend of the enemy.”

“Boo,” Sapnap says, “hiss.”

“Hey!” Dream’s voice crackles through the speaker. George glances over at it, unamused.

“I think we should try that one place, what was it called? It’s on Main and Delaware.”

Dream makes a noise. Sapnap thinks it might be one of fear. “If it’s the place I’m thinking… that’s really expensive.”

“But you can pay for it, can’t you, Dream?” George asks. “I know you can.”

Dream doesn’t reply. All three of them know he can.

“But I wouldn’t do that to you,” George continues. “Which is why Sapnap owes me dinner too.”

Sapnap is about to whine when his brain catches onto an idea and his eyes narrow. “Is this payback for the date?”

“H’m?” The tilt of George’s head is innocent in a way only the guise of innocence can be. Sapnap’s eyes squint even more, vision practically gone. “Of course not.”

Sapnap doesn’t believe him.

;;

Despite George’s teasing earlier that week, he ends up ordering the cheapest things on the menu, though Sapnap (feeling guilty about the date thing, oops) points out other, more expensive, things for George to try.

“Sapnap,” George finally says, “it’s fine. If it bothers you that much, we can split a dessert or something.” Across the table, they meet eyes and at the contact, a small smile appears on George’s face. Sapnap’s breath catches.

Dream is seated next to George, this date of course anything but traditional, but, like at the McDonald’s, Sapnap finds he doesn’t care, their closeness completely platonic—if anything, he’s comforted by it, in a sense, his two favorite people getting along as easy as they do. Sapnap’s utterly sold on it.

He and George catch eyes again as Dream peoplewatches casually, cheek resting on his palm. Sapnap’s own palm is open on the table in front of him, bored of messing with his unused cutlery. He smiles as George eyes the hand, eyes dark and inscrutable, before a hand covers his own. Sapnap curls his fingers around the other’s. They sit in this calm silence until their server brings them their food.

Sapnap’s tempted to keep George’s hand in his as he eats, but it’s his right hand and George’s left, so he lets go, turning to his food instead. George does the same, and Sapnap thinks that’s it, but then he feels a foot brush his, and when he glances up, it’s to see George already watching him, cheeks flushed. Sapnap hooks their ankles together. George’s gaze goes back to his plate.

When it comes time for dessert, George does agree on splitting with Sapnap, Dream getting his own thing, some chocolate mousse pie, and George and Sapnap getting a crème brûlée, George eager to tap the top with his spoon when the waiter brings it out to them, steaming and pretty.

Every once in awhile, their spoons clink against each other, and they exchange quick glances, Sapnap swears his aren’t heated, but the pounding in his heart suggests otherwise—he never knows with George, whether there’s something behind them or not, his eyes dark, endless, Sapnap wonders if he’ll ever be able to properly read him. If Dream is ever uncomfortable, he never gives any indication of it.

Dream and Sapnap do pay, and George looks green and guilty after, even when Dream did everything he could to keep George from seeing the check, leaning away and even cupping a hand over the receipt to prevent curious eyes from wandering.

The three of them walk out together, Sapnap’s pockets feeling considerably lighter, but the meal worth it, and when he reaches over, George lets him clasp their hands together easily, fingers intertwining like this happens everyday. Dream walks on his other side, hands in his pockets (Sapnap stops himself from making a smart remark), eyes on the sidewalk ahead of them. The sun has long since set, and a chill has started under Sapnap’s skin, shaken only by the solid warmth of George’s hand in his. Still, when a breeze ruffles their hair, Sapnap has to suppress a shiver. 

They reach George’s apartment first, and he goes with an easy goodbye to Dream and a short hug around Sapnap’s middle. When he pulls away, he turns his head and his lips brush Sapnap’s cheek in something like a kiss. Sapnap watches him up until the door finally shuts and they hear the click of the lock. 

They’ll reach his dorm before they reach Dream’s place. When Sapnap looks over, Dream is still staring straight ahead.

“I could’ve paid it all myself,” Dream says. “You knew that.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

“You could’ve told me to pay it all myself.” Dream turns his head, eyes on Sapnap. His gaze is sharp. “George wouldn’t have minded.”

Sapnap looks to the ground. “Yeah.”

Dream goes back to looking ahead. They walk in silence for another minute. “He’s happy,” he finally says. Sapnap’s eyes dart to the other. Dream isn’t looking back. “He really likes you.”

“I really like him,” Sapnap says.

“Monday—the other week,” Dream gives a slight laugh, “George said he really liked that, too. He had a bad day—,” Sapnap remembers the drink shoved in his hands, the dark expression on George’s face, “—and then you were there, and you were happy and happy to see him, and suddenly the bad parts of the day didn’t really matter.”

“I just want to see him smile,” Sapnap says, and then he amends the statement, “I want to see him happy. If it’s because of me, that’s even better, but really, he just…,” he shrugs, makes a noise in his throat. “I care about him.”

“So do I,” Dream says. “And I care about you. And I can tell that you guys make each other happy. And that’s all you want for each other.” He glances over, showing the other a soft smile. “And that’s all I want for you both.”

“You haven’t even known George for that long,” Sapnap says, because he’s socially incompetent or something.

“George is easy to love,” Dream replies.

Sapnap doesn’t have anything to say to that. It’s true. He is.

;;

It’s another one of Sapnap and Dream’s biweekly movie nights, but this time George is there, head resting in Sapnap’s lap, feet in Dream’s. He fits perfectly along the couch, though he’s turned on his side, blanket tugged tight over him as he watches Jurassic Park. They settled on that after some brief bickering, mostly between George and Sapnap, Dream content to watch whatever, while George wanted a comedy and Sapnap didn’t know what he wanted but it wasn’t a comedy because, “Dream and I watched a comedy last time!”

“I wasn’t here last time!” George argues. “So it shouldn’t matter!”

“But it does ,” Sapnap does not whine, though they all know the pitch in his voice makes it close to one. “We should watch something else.”

In the end, it was Dream who decided, having closed his eyes then picked a movie off the shelf randomly. Once Dream was sat back down on the couch, George had huffed and flopped over onto his side to watch it, ignoring Sapnap’s cheering but not turning away from the hand the younger had placed atop his head, fingers running through the short strands.

Now, an hour and a half later, George makes a sleepy noise, nuzzling into Sapnap’s thigh, and Sapnap’s heart clenches in his chest.

Dream had dozed off a few minutes ago, chin in his palm, and now his elbow has started to slide off the arm of the couch. Sapnap bends over, running his nose along the curve of George’s ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey,” he whispers. “Want to call it a night?”

George turns his head, nose bumping into Sapnap’s when Sapnap doesn’t sit up quick enough. Their eyes lock, dark blue on dark brown, and George stares up at him for a second before he glances to Dream at the other end of the couch, one hand curled around George’s ankles. “‘Kay,” George says, voice rough. Sapnap finally leans back the rest of the way, and George sits up, pointing his sock-clad toes and stretching out his right arm, the limb having been pressed to the couch beneath him. When he takes his feet from Dream’s lap, dropping them to the floor, Dream’s elbow finally slips from the couch, and he jerks awake, eyes blinking rapidly until they finally settle blearily on the TV.

Sapnap leans over to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “George and I are gonna head out,” he tells him. “We’re all pretty tired.”

Dream looks over at him, movements sluggish, before he nods. “See you guys tomorrow?”

“Probably,” Sapnap replies.

Dream nods again before making a small noise and pushing himself up from the couch. The movie still plays on the television, but none of them pay it any mind. Dream picks up their empty bowl of popcorn and takes it to the kitchen.

George sighs, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

“Ready for the walk home?” He’s talking about their respective homes, Sapnap knows—George’s apartment and Sapnap’s dorm—but it feels so much like they’re a duo, a pair, home coming from George’s lips like they live together, that it makes Sapnap’s breath catch in his chest. Breathlessness and a clenching heart—maybe Sapnap should seek medical help.

At his lack of reply, George looks back at him. The blue light colors his skin something pretty. Maybe Sapnap’s just had an overdose of George. He doesn’t think he minds. “I’ll walk you home,” he says. And then he thinks about the placement of their houses. He backtracks. “Or… if you wanted, you could just stay at mine?”

George, growing steadily more alert as time goes on, stares at him. “You want me to go home with you,” he says. It is in no way a question.

“I mean, if you want,” Sapnap answers anyway.

“We might as well have spent the night here,” George tells him.

Sapnap glances back at Dream, only to find the other missing from the kitchen. A look at the dark hallway and the slim line of light coming from underneath the bathroom door lets him know where the other is, however. He turns back to George. “We can ask Dream,” he says. “Do you want to?”

George gives a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe your place would be better. We don’t know what he’s doing tomorrow.”

“We don’t,” Sapnap agrees, although they’re both aware Dream doesn’t have any plans.

“And we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” George continues.

“We don’t,” Sapnap repeats.

George sucks in a breath, holds it. “My place is farther,” he finally says on the exhale, “ but my bed is bigger.”

That’s true. Sapnap has a room to himself, but he’s still only got a twin. It can barely fit him sometimes.

“I’m willing to make the walk if you are,” he decides.

;;

George is willing to make the walk. Dream had come out of the bathroom not long after, wiping his hands dry on his sleep pants, then waving them out with a tired smile. Sapnap had taken George’s hand the minute the door had shut behind them, the two of them alone on the sidewalk, Sapnap tugging George even closer, using their connected hands to his advantage.

They make their way to George’s apartment slowly, despite their initial reluctance to walk. Sapnap wonders if it’s a delay of the inevitable or an enjoyment of the other’s company. (They can enjoy each others’ company within four walls, not outside where the unforgiving autumn cold that’s finally settled seeps into their bones.) George takes a breath.

“I don’t,” he starts, then makes a noise. “I don’t want anything to happen, Sapnap.”

When they pass under a streetlight, Sapnap sees George’s cheeks glow red. George glances over at him.

“You know that, right?”

Sapnap has a list of things he could say. I never even thought about that, is one. Why not? is another. “Yeah,” is what he goes with. “Don’t worry.” He squeezes George’s hand. George squeezes back.

“I just…,” George tilts his head back, looking to the sky, and Sapnap’s eyes are locked on the graceful column of his throat, “I really like you, Sapnap.” He goes back to looking ahead, but Sapnap keeps his eyes on him. “And it’s almost been a month since… since,” with his free hand, he makes a vague motion at where their other hands are locked together, “this. Whatever this is. So I just… in case you, I don’t know, expected anything.”

“It’s okay,” Sapnap says. Again, he adds, “Don’t worry.”

George smiles at him. Sapnap smiles back.

;;

When they reach George’s apartment, George unlocks the door and Sapnap follows him silently inside, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplates what he’s about to say next. Eventually, he gives up on elegance:

“You said this.” George looks over at him from where he’s locked the door. Sapnap leans against the kitchen counter. “Whatever this is.” He makes a gesture between the two of them, something indicative of the blurry relationship they have.

“I don’t know what to call it,” George says.

“I know,” Sapnap replies. “I don't know what to call it either.”

George glances around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before he looks back to Sapnap. “What do you want to call it?”

Sapnap raises his brows. “What do you want to call it?”

George gives a sigh. “Are we having this talk now?”

“When else will we have it?” Sapnap crosses his arms as George shuts off the main lights, plunging the two of them into darkness.

“I don’t know,” George replies. “In the morning?” He’s nothing but a shadow as he crosses in front of Sapnap. Sapnap refrains from reaching out to grab a wrist, pull him to his chest, demand an answer now. It doesn’t matter that much.

But it’d be nice to have some answers. And George had been right before. It’s been almost a month since that kiss in Sapnap’s dorm, lips greasy with Taco Bell yet the kiss still nice, in that way kissing someone you really, really like is. In kissing someone you could grow to love—maybe already love, deep, deep down—is.

“I just like knowing,” Sapnap finally says. “What’s wrong with that?”

A light flicks on, and when Sapnap takes a couple steps away from the counter, he realizes it’s the light for George’s bedroom. He stands out of place in the doorway before George takes notice and makes his way over to the other. 

Sapnap gives him a tight smile once they’re face to face. George studies him for a second before sighing. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He pivots, going over to a set of drawers and tugging the middle one open. T-shirts and lounge pants are folded loosely inside. “I like knowing too.” He glances over his shoulder at Sapnap. “Do you think any of these will fit?”

George buys most of his clothes oversized. Just something Sapnap’s noticed about the other. “There’s a chance,” he replies. George tosses a few different pairs at him. Sapnap changes in the bathroom.

The first pair he tries doesn’t fit at all. He gives a small laugh to himself before grabbing the second. They fit better. The third look hot, flannel and dark, even for the weather, so he leaves them folded and tries his best to fold the other pair before dutifully marching back to George’s side to have him tuck them back into his drawer.

“We’ve been on a date before,” Sapnap says, “and a half. A date and a half. You could say we’re dating?”

“We’re about to literally sleep together,” George replies, and although his cheeks are flaming, the heat radiating off them in waves, his expression remains neutral, completely unamused. “I think we’re a bit past that.”

“So…,” Sapnap tries his luck, though he’s starting to think it less luck, and more a careful maneuver on George’s part, “you could say we’re boyfriends?”

“A bit gradeschoolish,” George replies.

Sapnap blinks at him.

George stares back before rolling his eyes and scoffing. “You’re so dumb. Yes, you could say we’re boyfriends.”

Immediately, the blank look drops off Sapnap’s face, and he grins, even as George turns on a lamp and brushes past him to turn off the bedroom light, completely ignoring him. Sapnap watches him disappear out the door and round the corner into the bathroom. There’s the sound of water running, then rummaging, then water running again, and then George’s head pops into the bedroom and he says, “I’ve got a spare toothbrush.”

Sapnap brushes his teeth and watches George’s shadow every time its reflection appears in the mirror. He holds back a sudsy laugh when he realizes the taste of George’s toothpaste is familiar. He rinses and spits then straightens and runs a hand through his hair. It’s gotten longer since the start of the semester. Since he’s met George. When he tugs his fingers through the ends, they get caught on knots. He does his best to untangle them without a brush. He gives up less than a minute in.

When he gets back into George’s room, George is already in bed, looking at something on his phone. Sapnap bites back a giddy smile, crawling into bed next to him, immediately pressing a kiss to his temple then sliding down the bed and wrapping an arm around his waist. 

George sets his phone down on the bedside table before looking down at him. “You’re very affectionate,” he says.

“So I’ve been told,” Sapnap replies.

George stares at him for another handful of seconds. Sapnap stares back. George blinks, then stretches to turn off the lamp. They’re left in the dark once again.

Sapnap is forced to lift his arm when George gets properly under the covers, the sheets tugged up to his chin. He’s flat on his back, and when Sapnap sets his arm back down, this time across his chest, he can feel the tension in him. George takes in a breath, and when he lets it out, Sapnap feels it shudder.

“George,” Sapnap says, and then, a leap of faith, “baby.”

George turns his head. Beneath Sapnap’s arm, his heart pounds.

“C’mere,” Sapnap says. A second. Two seconds. George rolls onto his side. Now, they watch each other, face to face. Sapnap can’t pick up any details on George’s, the room too dark, the most he can figure out being the slope of George’s nose, the occasional movement of his eyes. The window is behind George. Sapnap wonders if George can see him more clearly. 

Sapnap gets his arm further round George, pulling him close. When George lets out a breath, Sapnap feels it warm through his shirt. When George blinks, Sapnap feels the feathery kisses his lashes leave on his skin.

“You’re really warm,” Sapnap says.

From beneath the covers, George’s fingers twist and tangle in his shirt. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

A car passes by outside. George gives a small sigh. Sapnap brushes the pads of his fingers across the back of George’s neck.

“You can,” the words get muffled into Sapnap’s chest.

“What?” Sapnap asks.

George tilts his head back. “Your shirt,” he says. “You can take it off if you want.”

It’s Sapnap’s heart’s turn to pound.

George goes back to lying on his back. And then he rolls onto his side, but this time, he faces the window. Sapnap studies the curve of his shoulder. Then he sits up. And he pulls off his shirt.

He doesn’t really know what to do with it. Dropping it on the floor seems messy, but folding it and putting it on the bedside table just feels weird. No matter what, he’s not getting out of bed. He glances over and has to fight back the urge to jump. George has rolled back over, now staring at him.

Sapnap drops his shirt on the floor. George scoffs before rolling back over.

“I didn’t know what to do!” Sapnap immediately defends himself. He gets back under the covers. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” George replies.

Sapnap moves closer. “Stop,” George says.

Sapnap places a hand on George’s shoulder. It’s warm under his palm.

“Sapnap,” George says.

“George,” Sapnap replies. He runs his hand from George’s shoulder down to his chest. Again, he can feel his heartbeat. He pulls the other closer, so George’s back is pressed to his chest.

“No,” George says. “I’m not… spooning with you.” The word is spat with venom.

Sapnap sighs, nose tickled by the other’s hair. “Night, babe.”

“Sapnap.” George’s fingers curl around Sapnap’s wrist. They make no move to pull his hand away. He makes no move to push him away.

He still hasn’t said butterscotch. Sapnap is pretty sure he’s not going to say butterscotch. George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels him relax against his chest. Another car passes by. Sapnap hears it outside. Sees the change in lighting from behind his eyelids.

George lets out a quiet breath. “Whatever,” he finally says, more to himself than to Sapnap. “Night, Sapnap.”

Sapnap hums and delights in the shiver it sends through George. When he falls asleep, it’s to the steady sound of George breathing and the light movements of George tracing shapes on the back of his hand. Sapnap wonders what exactly it is he’s drawing. Wonders if he’s drawing anything in particular at all.

;;

When Sapnap wakes, George is still asleep. They’ve changed positions sometime in the night, both of them apparently being the type to spread out (and it had felt nice, Sapnap notes, not just to wake up next to George, but to wake up in a bed that he can actually stretch out in), so now George, Sapnap sees after sitting up all the way, has a foot just off the edge of the bed, the bump of it clear under the blanket, an arm flung back towards Sapnap, the other close to his head, fingers brushing the hair near his ear. The leg closer to Sapnap is tangled with Sapnap’s own. Sapnap’s not sure which of them is the cause for that.

There’s not much to do yet. It’s a Saturday, and while Dream didn’t have plans, he didn’t have any either. George might, but Sapnap is pretty sure that’s unlikely. He lets himself fall back onto the bed, head bouncing lightly against the pillow. George makes a soft sound from next to him. Sapnap takes his hand. He tries not to think the curl that appears at the corner of George’s lips is because of him.

George sleeps for another hour, Sapnap drifting in and out of wakefulness next to him. The final time Sapnap wakes, he knows he won’t be falling back asleep, but it doesn’t matter, because George huffs then slowly blinks open his eyes, staring blankly at the wall before looking over at Sapnap.

“G’morning,” he says.

“Morning,” Sapnap replies.

“Breakfast?” George asks.

“I’m down.”

Neither of them move.

George gives a soft laugh. Sapnap smiles at the sound.

“I might have eggs in the fridge,” George says. He looks over at the other. “I have apple juice.”

Still, neither of them move. Sapnap grins as George sighs and presses the heels of his palms over his eyes.

“There’s a diner on 3rd and Ashmore,” Sapnap tells him. “Want to try there?”

“Sounds good,” George replies.

They sit there for another second before George swings his legs off the bed and Sapnap leans over to pick his t-shirt off the floor.

“I might have a sweater you can wear,” George says. “You can put it on over your shirt.”

“Yeah?” Sapnap asks.

George tosses him a sweatshirt. It’s a pale grey, crewneck. Sapnap tugs it on over his head. It’s a little tight. George sighs, grabbing Sapnap’s jacket off the chair he had set it on the night before. “Never mind. It’s fine. Not like anyone saw you last night anyway.”

“Scared they’ll think you’re sleeping around?” Sapnap teases. George sends him an unamused look, taking the sweatshirt back when Sapnap hands it to him. “George the neighborhood whore?”

“Shouldn’t you be a little nicer to your boyfriend?” George asks, and while Sapnap is choking on his words, George sends him a playful look, hanging the sweatshirt back up in his closet.

Sapnap gets a grip on himself and gives him a smile back. “That’s not a no.”

“Yes,” George tells him, “because I’m just such a whore. Always sleeping around.”

Sapnap stands, going over to George, backing him up into the bedroom door. “I wouldn’t mind,” he says, “if that were the case. I know it’s not, but even if it were, I don’t care.”

“I don’t care either,” George replies. Sapnap wonders if George thinks that was the case with him. “I,” they had tentatively locked eyes, George’s occasionally glowing amber when caught by the morning light slipping through the blinds, but now, George looks away, at some distant point past Sapnap, “like you as you are. If that’s how you were, it wouldn’t matter. I like you.”

“Can I kiss you?” Sapnap asks, breath caught in his throat. At George’s concerned look, Sapnap waves a hand. “Morning breath, I—you—you seem like you’d care about that.”

George presses a kiss to the corner of Sapnap’s lips. Sapnap lifts a hand and runs his fingers along George’s chin, gets pricked by the short, short stubble there, then tilts his head and kisses George proper on the lips. George kisses back.

When they separate, George keeps his eyes closed. Sapnap bumps their noses together.

“In the future,” George says, “I’ll care about that.”

Sapnap really wants to say I love you.

“I’m sure you will,” he says instead.

;;

For breakfast, Sapnap has steak and eggs. George has French toast. To drink, he has apple juice. Sapnap stares into his own black coffee.

“Very nice,” George tells him. “Very stereotypical.”

“Are you really judging my food choices right now?” Sapnap asks.

George lifts his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his juice as he raises a single brow. Sapnap tries to be defiant, firm in his choices, but his eyes are continually drawn to George’s throat, the pale skin there. His gaze is only broken by George setting the glass back down. Sapnap swallows. He can’t say if George’s eyes following the movement is deliberate.

He looks back up. George has moved on, cutting into his toast, taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he says, once he’s swallowed. “How’s yours?”

Sapnap cuts into his steak. It’s good.

They eat, and their legs once again tangle, this time under a table instead of blankets.

;;

Despite what they had all told each other the day before, George and Sapnap end up not seeing Dream again.

“Sorry,” he tells them over a Discord call, George and Sapnap both at George’s computer, Sapnap having dragged the chair in the corner of George’s bedroom over to the desk. “Someone kind of high profile asked me to code something for them. I wasn’t going to turn it down. It was a good offer.”

“We didn’t expect you to turn it down,” George replies. “We don’t want you to turn it down.”

“Yeah, man,” Sapnap agrees. “That’s great. Secure that bag.”

“Secure that bag?” George echoes. “Seriously?”

“Let’s get this bread,” Sapnap says solemnly. “Make his pockets hurt.”

“I already did,” George replies.

“Still,” Dream cuts in easily, making George and Sapnap immediately stop, heads turning once again to the computer, “I’m sorry. I’ll see you Monday or Tuesday maybe.”

“You want a rematch?” George asks him. “It’s been awhile since I’ve completely obliterated you.”

“Whatever,” Dream laughs. “I’ll see you.”

“See you,” George and Sapnap agree. And then the call ends. And then it’s just them.

Part of Sapnap feels like he’s overstaying his welcome. Part of him wants to overstay his welcome, wants to stay forever. Part of him feels like George would say something if he were. If not get out , then butterscotch or something. But George has stayed silent, content to have Sapnap by his side.

At that thought, Sapnap leans over, a hand coming to rest on George’s thigh. George shifts, and Sapnap’s hand falls. That was the movement’s intention. Sapnap readjusts, placing his hand on the edge of George’s chair. George returns to his previous position. Sapnap leaves his hand where it is.

George takes a breath then leans back, head rolling on his neck to look over at Sapnap. “Got any work to do?”

“Nope,” Sapnap replies, popping the p. George hums, eyes slipping shut.

“Got any plans at all?”

“Nope,” Sapnap repeats. “No obligations, nowhere I need to be. I can go home if you want me to, though.”

“You don’t need to,” George replies. And then he glances behind to the bed. “I might take a nap.”

“You want me to say something,” Sapnap says, eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

George looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I want you,” he says, “to do whatever you think you should be doing right now.” 

And with that, he rises from his chair, tugs off his tennis shoes, and falls onto the bed.

“In jeans?” Sapnap asks him, crossing his arms as best as he can at the angle he’s at.

George grunts. Sapnap sighs, taking the pair of sweatpants George had left on the dresser and dropping them on the bed next to George.

“You want any water or anything?” he asks.

George keeps his eyes closed. “I’m good, thanks.”

Sapnap studies him for a second before heading to the bathroom.

He really has no idea what George wants from him. 

Really, going into the bathroom was just him stalling, more for George’s benefit than his—he’s completely certain he’ll reenter George’s bedroom to see the other wearing the sweatpants he had set next to him—but he does use it as a moment to wonder just what he’s supposed to be doing.

When he goes back into George’s room, the other is lying the way he had been when he left, but, just as Sapnap thought, he’s now wearing sweatpants, an arm thrown across his eyes.

Sapnap takes a seat next to him, then lets out a breath and lets himself relax back onto the bed. George’s arm falls from his eyes. Together, they stare up at the ceiling.

“Can we just stay like this?” George finally asks.

Sapnap looks over at him.

George remains looking at the ceiling.

“Like what?”

“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap.” George’s fingers brush his. Sapnap fights the urge to take them. “It’s a lot for me.” George finally turns his head and meets Sapnap’s eyes.

Sapnap holds his breath. George’s fingers run up his arm, tickle quick over his shoulder, finally scratch through the slight beard he has. “Sorry,” Sapnap says.

George takes a breath, then shifts, turning himself onto his side. “Not your fault. It’s just new. A lot of this is,” he gives a quiet exhale, “new.” His fingers still press against Sapnap’s skin. They’re warm. Sapnap swears when they fall away, his skin will be stained red.

“I like it,” George finally says. “New is good.”

“That’s good,” Sapnap says.

“It is,” George agrees. “I like this a lot.”

“In the future, you’ll care?” Sapnap asks.

George laughs, gentle, soft. “I already do.”

;;

The rest of the weekend passed slowly, time molasses. Sapnap hadn’t spent the night again, the two of them finally napping, then Sapnap slipping out when they next woke, delivering a kiss to George’s lips then tugging his jacket over his shoulders and heading out into the October cold. He’d taken his time on the walk home, an opposite of Friday night—reluctance to leave, each step heavier than the last. By the time he gets to his dorm, he swears his feet are stone.

Wearily, he eyes his desk. Atop it lay various assignments, all at different degrees of completion. Most aren’t due till Friday or the next week entirely—he’d meant it when he told George he’s got nothing he needs to be doing—but with nothing to take his immediate attention anymore, he finds himself wondering if now would be a good time to complete it all.

He gets through an assignment and a half before he finds his thoughts wandering. Some of them go towards eating; he and George had slept through lunch, and now it’s practically dinnertime, and Sapnap is hungry. But most of them go towards George, towards a thought he’d had that morning.

I love you.

He rolls the thought around in his mind. Reshapes it.

I love you, George.

A beat.

“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap. It’s a lot for me.”

Sapnap groans, head coming to rest in his hands. When he lifts his head again, he pushes his hair back. An I love you now would be too soon. They’ve just declared themselves boyfriends, and now Sapnap is thinking about I love yous.

It is a lot. For anyone. Sapnap is the odd one out here. He knows it’s a problem, but he just doesn’t know any other way to be.

;;

meeting dream today, gonna try and kick his ass. wish me luck?

Sapnap smiles down at the text that lights up his phone. Kick his ass babe, gl but u got this

thanks

Sapnap slips his phone back into his pocket. It vibrates. Sapnap pulls it out once more.

It’s probably the bare minimum. There’s no words involved. But it stops Sapnap short, leaving him staring down at his screen with wide eyes. He wonders if he’s pink. His skin feels warm. 

<3

It means something. It’s George. It has to mean something.

;;

“I brought Taco Bell,” George announces when Sapnap swings the door open.

George pushes past him easily, setting the bags at an empty spot on Sapnap’s desk while Dream brings up the rear, shirt wet with condensation from their drinks.

“It only felt right,” George tells him as Dream gives him his Baja Blast.

“I’m here this time, though,” Dream says, pulling out a burrito from one of the bags George sat down. “Please don’t make any jumps in your relationship while I’m still in the room, thanks.”

George glares at him then takes a menacing bite of his Quesarito.

Sapnap turns to Dream with wide eyes. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

“It won’t be,” George says.

“I didn’t realize you’re so sentimental, George,” Dream finally speaks up after a few minutes of them just eating their food.

“I’m not,” George replies.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Dream sends him an unamused look, but George just gives him one right back.

“Really,” he says. “I’m not.” He glances at Sapnap. Dream catches it. “I’m not really doing this for myself, anyway.”

Sapnap flushes, staring down at his gordita. Dream looks between them, blinks, exhales. Sapnap thinks he’s going to say something ridiculous. All he says is, “Couples,” and that’s that.

George catches his eye, smiles, and it’s like they’re sharing a secret. Sapnap likes it.

He loves it.

;;

With a new week comes the panic of midterms. Sapnap had thought he’d been overwhelmed before, but now he’s drowning, completely slipping under murky waters.

George pulls him out with a heated chocolate croissant and a pat on the head.

Sapnap smiles at him as he walks away.

Dream sits on a chair next to him, flipping through one of the New Yorker s left on the little table in front of them. Sapnap blinks at his laptop before setting it aside and stretching. “You’re so lucky, man,” he tells Dream, who gives a noncommittal hum and turns a page. “I mean it. Midterms are the worst.”

“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “Tests are annoying.”

“They’re dumb,” Sapnap says, conviction coloring his words. “Memorization is dumb.”

“Just a couple more years of this,” Dream replies.

Sapnap sighs, picking up the chocolate croissant and taking a bite. “Just a couple more years.”

After a few more minutes, Dream heaves a sigh. “It’s getting to me,” he says.

“Sorry,” Sapnap replies, like he can in some way change the strength of the coffee.

“It’s fine,” Dream dismisses, then he stands, dropping the magazine back onto the table. “See you later.”

Sapnap sends him a smile as he waves at George, who’s moved back behind the counter.

“See you!” George calls as the door slides shut behind Dream.

“That was pretty long, I think,” Sapnap says when George makes his way over a few minutes later, now on break, taking up Dream’s empty chair. “We’d been here almost an hour.”

“That is long,” George agrees. “How long are you staying?”

“You get off at four?” Sapnap asks, and George nods. “Want to get dinner with Dream and I after?”

“Of course.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back.

;;

Despite all of his manic studying—or perhaps because of it—midterms the next week pass by relatively quickly, him coming out of his last class Friday tired but content. He doesn’t really think he got an A, but he’s sure his mark will be pretty damn close. 

A few hours and a billion failed Minecraft speedruns later, Sapnap gets a message from Dream.

I know movie nights r every other week, but u just finished midterms. Wanna come over?

Sapnap’s at the other’s house before he even thinks about it. “Uh, yes, I want to come over,” he tells Dream when the other opens the door. “What are we watching?” 

“Whatever you want,” Dream replies. “You’re the one who’s got nothing to worry about anymore.”

Sapnap grins, plucking a movie off the shelf. “Here,” he hands it to Dream. “Popcorn?”

“You know it,” Dream replies, getting the movie set up.

When the popcorn is done, Dream is on the couch, remote in hand. “Good?”

Sapnap nods, setting the bowl between them.

The movie passes by quickly, and they move onto the next one—it turns into a right marathon by the time the sun has set, and eventually, the bowl of popcorn is empty, and they’re leaning against one another in the center of the couch.

At a lull in the movie, a quiet moment between the two main characters, Sapnap speaks:

“I think I’m in love with George.”

Dream is quiet for a moment. Sapnap feels him shift against him. Their shoulders press together. “He’s easy to love,” Dream echoes his words from weeks before.

“Easy to scare,” Sapnap replies.

More movement.

“Is there ever a right time to say I love you?” Dream asks. “If you love them, let them know.”

“He told me that I’m a lot,” Sapnap tells him. “That I’m a lot for him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t say it like that,” Dream says. Sapnap gives a half-hearted shrug. Dream sits up, angling himself to better face Sapnap. Sapnap imitates his pose. Like this, he can only see half of Dream’s face, one side lit up by the TV screen, the other cast in shadow. “It’s been a month,” Dream continues, “and a half. I think George is the type of guy where, if he feels like you’re too much, if he doesn’t like you, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to sit there, miserable, waiting for you to pull the plug.”

Dream is right because of course he is, but Sapnap still shifts, uncomfortable. “I just… I am a lot. We don’t spend all the time together, but I’m so much more affectionate than he is, and it’s like… I already love him, and—and—we have a safeword, Dream. Like this is some BDSM thing. But it’s not for that, it’s for how much I fucking hold his hand.”

“But isn't that proof?” Dream asks. “That’s communication. Compromise. He wants this to work, Sap. He wants to be with you. Wants you.” He smiles, hand reaching between them to hold Sapnap’s shoulder. “He wants the guy that’s pushy and loud and in your face, the guy that drinks too many vanilla fraps and gets competitive over everything and likes to cuddle. He wouldn’t have decided to go out with you—hell, I don’t even think he’d have kissed you—if that isn’t who he wanted.” He leans back, hand stroking warm down Sapnap’s arm, and the minute it falls back into his lap, Sapnap leans forward to throw his arms around the other.

“I love you,” Sapnap says, turning his face to press his nose into Dream’s neck. “I’m so lucky you’re my best friend.”

Though his arms are pinned awkwardly to his sides, Dream still manages to reach and get his hands on Sapnap’s waist where he squeezes the other in a poor imitation of a hug. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t my best friend,” he replies. “I love you too.” 

When Sapnap pulls away, Dream smiles. “But I don’t think I’m the one you need to be saying I love you to, though.”

Sapnap sleeps on Dream’s couch that night and dreams of the different ways telling George he loves him could go.

He’s pleased to note that most of the scenarios end positively.

;;

Saturday he spends the night at George’s again. He lies in bed, quiet, with George next to him, one of the older’s hands holding his phone, the other affectionately brushing through Sapnap’s hair. Sapnap gives a quiet sigh before rolling over and touching his nose to George’s hip. George hums and twirls a lock of Sapnap’s hair around a thin finger.

“You okay?” George asks.

Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut and nuzzles further into the other's side. “Tired.”

“Fall break is coming up,” George consoles him, “and midterms are over.”

Sapnap nods, arm stretching out and over George’s waist. His fingers brush along George’s side, featherlight. George flinches away from it with a giggle. Sapnap tilts his head, eyes opening and gaze flitting to George’s face. It’s a bad angle, but he can still make out the smile there.

He loves George, he knows that now. He’s in love with George.

And George wants him. Wants the him that touches too much and feels too much and loves more than he should. George wants that. George has that. And he likes it.

Sapnap sighs, sinking back into George’s side. George plugs his phone in then turns off the lamp. Before he gets fully under the covers, Sapnap feels his fingers run through his hair one more time before a kiss is pressed to the top of his head.

“Goodnight, Sapnap,” George whispers.

Sapnap squeezes George as best as he can, delivers warm kisses to the parts of George he can reach. “Night, baby.”

George hums, touching the tips of their noses together (with the action, Sapnap swears he did some kind of witchcraft to steal his breath), before rolling over, back to Sapnap’s front. Sapnap bites back a smile. He wonders if George would call this spooning. Because that’s what it is.

He buries his nose in the soft hair at the nape of George’s neck. It’d be easy to say it now. Let the words slip out and if George questions him on it, he can blame it on sleep. A slip of the tongue.

But he doesn’t want it to be a mistake, even if that’s a lie to save his own face. He wants the words to be deliberate, the meaning of them felt by George wholly.

He sighs, and George shivers with it. Sapnap makes a small noise of apology.

“What’re you thinking about?” George finally asks.

Sapnap takes in a breath. He’s not sure what to answer.

“You don’t have to tell me,” George says.

“I want to,” Sapnap replies.

George exhales, the sound loud, before rolling back over. When he’s facing Sapnap, a hand comes up to hold Sapnap’s cheek.

“I think you’re more affectionate than you realize,” Sapnap tells him.

“I think you just make me affectionate,” George replies.

Sapnap stares at him. George stares back before he lifts his hand, fingertips remaining against Sapnap’s skin. He runs them over his cheek, then across his lower lip. And then they go back to his cheek, and George is moving to slot their lips together.

When they separate, Sapnap smiles. He’s pretty sure George smiles back. He presses one more kiss to George’s lips.

He could say it now. George’s fingers begin to tangle into the ends of Sapnap’s hair. His mouth is hot underneath Sapnap’s own. Their breath intermingles. Under the sheets, their legs have tangled together. The two of them are practically completely intertwined.

Against his lips, Sapnap feels George smile.

He says it.

The words hang heavy in the minimal space between them. Sapnap’s heart is equally heavy in his chest as he anticipates George’s reaction. He wants to ramble—apologize, take them back, clarify, tell him that he loves him but he isn’t in love with him (but he is)—but he doesn’t. The words are what they are. He means them.

Though his face seems to now be void of the smile he wore, George doesn’t move away, and they remain tangled together. George rubs his thumb over the curve of Sapnap’s cheek.

He feels George’s breath. George kisses him softly. And then he replies: “I can’t say it yet, Sapnap.” His other hand finds Sapnap’s own. Holds it. “I feel it. I’m, like, certain I do. But I can’t say it yet. Not like that.”

Sapnap sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, nods. “I get it. That’s fine. I love you, though. I just… wanted you to know.”

At that, George laughs, a quiet, warm sound. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.” A beat. And then, “The minute I can say it myself, I’ll tell you.”

Sapnap smiles. “I’m holding you to that.”

George rolls back over. Instead of waiting for Sapnap to curl around him, he backs up, pulls Sapnap’s arm over him. Readjusts so it’s even harder to separate their legs. “Goodnight, Sapnap.” He means it this time.

Sapnap closes his eyes, relaxes. The words are out there now. And George accepts them. No take-backs.

“Goodnight.”

;;

Neither bring it up later. It happened—Sapnap definitely told him—but the words stay only in the air between them, felt but never heard. They go on a walk, no destination in mind, just enjoying each other’s company, and at the local cafe (an actual cafe, not the Starbucks George works at), they split a hot chocolate topped with a mountain of whipped cream that ages them a hundred years only for those years to be wiped away with a thumb. At one point, George has some stuck to the corner of his lips, and Sapnap can’t help but lean forward to lick it away. Of course, George shrieks and shoves him back, flustered and grossed out, but his lips are upturned.

“Sweet,” Sapnap tells him.

“You’re so annoying,” George replies.

“You’re cute,” Sapnap shoots back.

George flushes and takes the mug from Sapnap’s hands, lifting it to his lips so he can hide the smile on his lips. It only works so well. Sapnap lets the moment go, though.

“Normally that’d be butterscotch,” George tells him as they exit the cafe. “I can’t believe you did that. That’s so disgusting.”

Sapnap laces their fingers together. George huffs.

“The only reason you got away with it is because I didn’t expect it.” George kicks a pebble lying in his path. “So annoying.”

Sapnap doesn’t bring it up, but he does say it again.

George stutters out a laugh. Sapnap feels George’s hand squeeze his. It’s enough.

;;

The weeks pass by quickly after that, and soon Sapnap finds himself Friday night sitting between George and Dream while an early 2000s sci-fi movie plays on the TV. They weren’t supposed to have movie night this week either, but come tomorrow morning Sapnap is supposed to head down south for Thanksgiving with his family, so this is their last hurrah together.

They’re a bit like dominoes, actually, Dream sitting normally on the couch, Sapnap’s back resting pressed against his side, and George leaning on Sapnap. Idly, he plays with Sapnap’s fingers. To add to George’s amusement, Sapnap flexes and stretches his fingers. Meanwhile, Dream tugs on his hair.

“It’s probably best you head home soon,” Dream says. “Not to kick you out, but it’s a long drive tomorrow.”

“How many hours away is Houston anyway?” George asks, voice muffled with the way his cheek is squished against Sapnap’s chest.

“Too many,” Sapnap says. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll miss you too,” Dream tells him. 

George makes an affirmative noise.

“But it’s only for a week,” Sapnap says. “And then I’ll be back up here.”

“You don’t normally focus on that,” Dream tells him, more for George’s sake than his. Sapnap flushes, glancing down at George, who stares back with inquisitive eyes. “But I guess now you have something to come back to. Someone.”

“I like spending time with you.”

Dream scoffs. “Like distance ever mattered when it comes to us.”

“Huh?” George pushes himself up and Sapnap sends Dream a dirty look.

“I like cuddling with the homies well enough, but affection from you is way different from affection from George.” He pulls George back down on top of him. “Affection from you is like… a jacket. Nice to have, really nice, but not a necessity. George is a shirt. No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

Dream guffaws. “I hope I’m not just a jacket to you guys, but a friend too.”

“You’re my friend, Dream,” George tells him.

“I love you, George!” Dream immediately replies, and George hides a laugh in Sapnap’s chest.

The movie ends not long after that, and soon Sapnap is heading home.

“I can walk myself home just fine,” George tells him when they reach the intersection that Sapnap is supposed to turn at.

“But I like walking you home,” Sapnap replies.

“But you need to rest,” George tells him, smile on his face. He brushes a strand of hair out of Sapnap’s eyes. “I can help you pack your car in the morning?”

“Do you want to?”

George just continues to smile.

“Why are you like this?” Sapnap asks, and then he leans forward and George lifts a hand to cup the back of his neck. They kiss, and when they separate, Sapnap squeezes George’s waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Sleep well,” George replies.

“I’ll try.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back. George’s hand slips from his neck, and Sapnap’s hand falls from his waist. George starts to walk away. “Goodnight!” Sapnap calls after him. “Love you!”

“Goodnight, Sapnap!” George calls back.

;;

George greets him with a kiss and a coffee and bagel pressed into his hands. “For the road,” he says, and Sapnap thanks him, setting the things aside and drawing George into a deeper kiss than the chaste one he was given. “For the road?”

Sapnap grins. “For me. A week away from you. You know I need my kissies.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” George says. “Oh my God. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Sapnap laughs before tugging his backpack over his shoulders. Dragging his suitcase behind him, he leads George to the parking lot, where he lifts his suitcase and sets it into the trunk. “Seriously, though,” he says, “this’ll be fun.”

“An experiment,” George replies. “A week apart. How will we fare?”

Sapnap grins, and George smiles back.

“Remember me while I’m away,” Sapnap tells him. “Don’t go falling for the first pretty face you see.”

“Of course not,” George says solemnly, and Sapnap laughs. George studies him for a second before once again kissing him. “Three’s a lucky number.”

“I didn’t think you believed in luck,” Sapnap says.

“I don’t,” George replies.

Another kiss. George makes a small noise.

“Four,” Sapnap says. “Actually, I think that’s unlucky in China. I read that somewhere.”

One more.

“How’s five?” George asks.

“Eh,” Sapnap says. “Even numbers are better.”

“Seven is lucky.”

“Eight?”

“Pushing it.”

Sapnap leans away from where he’d come to pin George against the door. George straightens up, readjusts his shirt. Sapnap runs a hand through his hair. George tracks the movement with his eyes. Sapnap’s hand falls back to his side.

“Thanks,” he says.

George huffs a small laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

Sapnap studies him for a second before pulling him into a hug. “I really will miss you,” he says. “I’ll see you.”

“You’re getting on the server with Dream and I if you’re not too tired tonight, right?” George asks.

“Duh.”

George nods. Sapnap feels it against his neck.

“I’ll miss you too,” George finally says.

Sapnap holds him tighter.

;;

Despite the drama of him leaving, Thanksgiving passes by without much fuss. 

They voice call a fair amount and when Sapnap gets to Houston he does hop on the SMP for a bit, a couple hours later passing out mid-call. When he wakes, the lights are all shut off and his blinds are closed.

He’s grateful.

Dream FaceTimes him on Thanksgiving, showing Sapnap his and George’s… creative feast.

“I still can’t believe you guys are having it together,” Sapnap tells the two, completely ignoring the football game on TV to focus entirely on them.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Dream asks him. “George’s family is in England, and it’s not like they celebrate, and I’m not going to Florida this year. Why not?”

That’s fair. 

“Still,” Sapnap says anyway. “And did you just call every nearby restaurant?”

“It’s an assortment,” George says.

“But it’s good,” Dream continues. “Besides, it’s more about the leftovers than the meal.”

Also fair, and Sapnap finds himself with an array of Tupperware from his family’s Thanksgiving in his backseat as he drives back to school. When he’s back inside his dorm, staring at his minifridge, he realizes they won’t all fit in the small space.

“Can I use your fridge?”

“Welcome back, Sapnap,” George replies. “How was your break?”

“I’m offering you free food,” Sapnap says.

“And I’m asking how your break was.”

Sapnap makes a face. “Good. I’m happy to be back. Now, can I please use your fridge?”

A pause. “You only love me for my house,” George finally says. “That’s so wrong of you.”

It’s the first time George has ever brought up Sapnap’s love for him, even as a joke. Sapnap takes a breath. “I do love you for your house,” he replies, teasing before turning serious, “but I also love you for a lot of other reasons. You’re very lovable, you know.”

George is quiet for a second before Sapnap hears movement. “When are you coming over here?”

Sapnap gets an Uber, knowing parking near George’s apartment is risky at best. “Ten minutes?” he says when his phone tells him his driver will be there soon.

“Okay.” Sapnap listens as George putters around. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” George replies immediately, and then, “you’ll see.”

“M'kay,” Sapnap says. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye,” George says, and then ends the call.

Sapnap looks down into his plastic bag of remaining Tupperware. His phone pings—the driver’s outside.

;;

“Are you ready to eat leftovers for months?” Sapnap asks, setting the bags down on the counter. “Or at least as long as they last.”

George opens the first bag, pulling out a medium-sized container stuffed full of mashed potatoes. Immediately, he finds a place in his fridge to tuck it into. He does this with the rest of the containers, Sapnap taking them out and setting them on the empty counter space for George to pick up and put away. When they’re done, George comes to lean next to Sapnap.

“We survived,” he says.

“I knew we would,” Sapnap replies.

They’re on each other in an instant.

“I’m not usually into this,” George says hotly into his mouth.

“I know,” Sapnap says.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” George continues.

“Do you need to know?” Sapnap asks.

George moans at the nip Sapnap gives to his lower lip.

“No,” George replies. “No.” Sapnap runs a burning trail of bites soothed by his tongue down George’s neck. “Sapnap.”

Against his skin, Sapnap smiles.

George gasps when Sapnap moves to press George into the couch instead, the cushions definitely comfier than the linoleum counter. “I missed you so much,” Sapnap says, each word punctuated by a kiss.

“You—Sapnap, yes—too.” George gets his fingers twisted and tangled into his hair, drags him up roughly. Sapnap bites back a groan at the sting and George pulls him into a bruising kiss. “Shit. I missed you.”

Sapnap lets himself be pulled down over George’s body, more than happy to press him further into the couch.

;;

George doesn’t let Sapnap skip his first class on Monday.

“School is important,” he tells him, zipping up his jacket like some mother hen. Sapnap makes a face when his hands brush imaginary dust off his shoulders.

“What are you going to do when I’m gone?” Sapnap asks.

George laughs. “Leaving for a week again?”

Sapnap gives him a dry look.

George smiles, soft. “I’m going to work. You’ll see me in, like, four… five hours at most. Is that really the end of the world?”

Sapnap grabs his hands from where they’d come to rest on his chest, pulling George in closer. “I just like spending time with you.”

“I love spending time with you too,” George says, “and you don’t see me clinging to you.”

“You think this is clingy?” Sapnap raises a brow in a silent challenge, and George tries to back up, but Sapnap just gives another tug to his hands before pulling him into a hug and wrapping his arms tight around him. “You wish I were clingy! You want me to be more clingy, actually.”

“I do not,” George replies, words warm against Sapnap’s ear. Sapnap holds back a shiver as George wriggles in his arms. “You’re… I like you like this.”

Sapnap holds him closer. George lets him.

He pulls away after a moment, the day finally catching up to them. “Class,” George tells Sapnap.

“Work,” Sapnap tells George.

They reach the Starbucks and George squeezes his hand. “See you,” he says.

“Love you,” Sapnap replies. And then George is disappearing into the cafe, the words dissipating in the growing space between them.

;;

The rest of the week passes by slowly, each day slouching into the next. Sapnap looks over at George, whose lips are wrapped pretty around a cake pop. He’s been quiet, more so than usual, and it sets Sapnap on edge, each word coming out of him more hesitant than the last.

Come Saturday, and he finds himself confronting the other.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says.

“I’m not avoiding you,” is immediately shot back, and Sapnap rushes forward, George bringing a hand up between them to push him away. “I’m not. I’m just….”

“I’m too much,” Sapnap says, filling in the words himself.

George is adamant. “No! You’re—you’re—you’re you, and I—Sapnap, I really—,” he makes a small noise and Sapnap tries to get closer again, but George’s hand comes back up and he mutters a quick butterscotch. 

“What’s wrong?” Sapnap asks. “I did something.”

“You—no,” George shoves past Sapnap to get a glass and fill it up with tap water. He takes a quick drink before pouring the rest down the drain. “You love me so much,” he finally says.

“You’re lovable,” Sapnap replies. “Everything about you, George. It’s just—you’re so easy to love.”

“That’s what Dream had said,” George tells him, and Sapnap swallows at the lump that’s built in his throat like sediment, little bits and pieces added to the pile till it cuts off Sapnap’s airways and he’s left floundering, gasping for air. George gives a quiet laugh. “I thought,” he swallows, takes a breath in contrast to Sapnap’s struggle, “it was too soon. I’m not good at this, Sapnap.”

Sapnap moves to speak, but George continues, setting the glass in the sink before his fingers curl into the countertop, knuckles turning white from his grip. He takes another breath. “I love you,” he says, all in one breath. “It shouldn’t have happened so fast. I’m… I’m terrified, Sapnap.”

When Sapnap takes a hesitant step closer, George lets him. He lifts a hand and brushes back some of George’s hair before running his knuckles over George’s cheek, down to his neck. He curls his fingers around the back, brushes them through the short hair there. Under his palm, George is tense.

George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.” 

And then he shrugs off Sapnap's hand, moves around him, disappears into his bedroom. Sapnap hears the door click. He stands alone in the kitchen, his only source of light the one over the stove. He thinks it might be dimmer than usual. He waits. George doesn’t come back out. Sapnap wonders if he’s been broken up with. George still doesn’t come back out.

Sapnap looks at the empty plastic bags on the counter. He gathers them in his hands. George can keep his leftovers. He never really wanted them anyway.

;;

“I think George broke up with me,” Sapnap accepts the apple slice Dream hands him, and at the sight of the fruit, it’s like the dam he tried to build surrounding thoughts of George breaks and all those pent up feelings come pouring out, “yesterday. He told me he loved me. And then he left me.” His grandma had made some apple cobbler. It sits on the second shelf of George’s fridge. George’s favorite fruit is apples. 

Sapnap takes a bite out of the slice. Dream sits next to him on the couch, setting the tray of assorted fruit on the coffee table. “Did he actually say that?” Dream asks. “That he’s breaking up with you.”

“He left,” Sapnap repeats. “He said, ‘I love you. You’re too much for me.’ Then he just… walked into his room, shut the door, and that was it.”

“Talk to him again,” Dream says. “He told you he loved you. I don’t think that’s nothing for George.”

Sapnap sighs. It’s not. Dream smiles at him, and Sapnap leans over, resting his head on the other’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine,” Dream tells him. “Communication is always key.”

As always, he’s right.

;;

He doesn’t want to have any major conversations at Starbucks, but he feels if he doesn’t do it now he won’t do it at all. There hasn’t been any word between him and George since that conversation in the kitchen, but Sapnap doesn’t let that deter him, instead pressing on determinedly as he walks inside and sees George’s usual station devoid of, well, George.

“Called in sick today,” Sarah tells him as she finishes putting whipped cream on someone’s drink. “Thought he’d have told you.”

Sapnap blinks. “Uh,” he says, and then, “think he fell back asleep before he could. Thanks.” Sarah waves nonchalantly, but Sapnap is out the door before he can see it.

The walk to George’s has him tugging at the drawstring of his hoodie, the chill settling deep within him, unshakeable now, especially without George’s easy warmth by his side. He’s never been more grateful to see the steps leading up to the older’s apartment than he is at this moment.

And then he has to wait, much the same way he did Saturday, wait for George to see his text, call him back, answer his knock.

He waits, and he waits, and he waits.

The lock clicks, and the door creaks open. Sapnap swears his fingertips are turning blue.

“George,” he says immediately, just to have said something , and then the door is opening wider and Sapnap is rushing into the apartment, getting himself fully inside before George can reconsider.

In the sink, he spies empty Tupperware containers.

George stands next to the couch. Sapnap swallows.

“George,” he says again. “I missed you.”

“It was only a day, Sapnap,” George replies. His voice is quiet.

“You said I love you to me,” Sapnap says. George stays silent. Sapnap falters, continues: “I love you too, and I know I’m a lot, but George,” he comes closer—George lets him—he places a hand on George’s waist—George lets him, “I’ll… you once told me I can’t dial it down, or whatever, and this is me telling you that for you, I’d dial it down. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t, but I want to try. For you. You said you’d try for me. You need to know I’d do the same for you.”

George laughs, but it’s an empty, hollow sound, just air shoved past his lips. “I don’t think it’s as easy as that.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Sapnap asks. “You said it happened so fast. What happened so fast?”

George mutters something. Sapnap moves closer. George pushes him back. “Falling in love, dumbass. I was in love with you before I even realized it was love I was feeling.” He keeps his hand in front of him, a visible barrier between him and Sapnap. “Am feeling.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Sapnap asks. “What are you so afraid of?”

George doesn’t reply.

“It’s only as complicated as you let it be,” Sapnap says. “I’m—we’re—we’re in love with each other, George.” His voice is firm. George finally meets his eyes. Dark and inscrutable as ever. Sapnap is in love with him. “Isn’t that enough? Just for right now, tell me it isn’t enough.”

George moves, a mirror image of the him in Sapnap’s dorm on Tuesday months ago, bringing their lips together and kissing Sapnap with purpose. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes sparkle. “I can’t. I can’t tell you it isn’t enough. But I won’t say it’s not either.”

“I love you,” Sapnap says, reflex. He presses a kiss to George’s lips, presses one to his cheeks, his chin, nose, forehead. “I love everything about you.”

“You too,” George says. “I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You don’t need to know,” Sapnap replies. “Just love me. Be in love with me.”

George’s fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, pull him closer. Their noses touch and Sapnap feels every single one of George’s breaths on his lips. They’re heavy. So are his own. When George speaks, he may as well be putting the words directly into Sapnap’s mouth, the two of them working as one. “I love you,” he says, and so does Sapnap. “I love you and being with you and being in love with you.”

“It won’t be perfect,” Sapnap says. (So does George.)

“But it doesn’t need to be.” George seals their lips together. He’s right. Neither of them need it to be perfect. Nor, Sapnap thinks, as George wraps an arm around his neck, draws him closer, holds him tighter, do either of them want it to be.

[littlebabycrybtch]

i genuinely feel like ableism is just intentionally being left the fuck behind as a social issue. all the twitter faketivists are just Over it man. pretending to be selfless and manipulating every unnecessarily critical thought they have into a ‘stance tm’ to validate their underdeveloped random feelings and make them actually seem like a moral obligation for others really has to be exhausting. i mean, they already support the groups theyre a part of which benefits them, and the groups they have to support if they want social praise from their peers, which also benefits them, why would they wanna support the ~ACTUALLY weird and different~ minorities, when it wont even benefit them??? which is ofc what real activism is about??? the benefits and clout??? god theyre so fake and so ready to have their one allotted slur they want the r word so bad they want their one cringe punching bag minority so baaaad they NEED to validate their discomfort with autistic people. with psychotic people. with the undiagnosed. and they get off scott free bc nobody will give them consequences. and when WE try to oh these ugly bitches ACTUALLY think theyre allowed a free pass for that bc they have anxiety and a personality disorder or w/e. lmao fuck you bitch, frankly fuck all that discourse about ‘autistic people arent rude!’, im gonna be so rude on purpose now. im gonna start flapping directly into allistic peoples eye sockets. 

lbr, the reason for all of this is 1. other minority groups are becoming more about how to be ~cool~ and trendy with it than just . focusing on actual struggles and harm reduction (see; lgbt exclusion behavior lmaog) and mentally ill/disabled ppl might have more trouble copying uncharming funnyman social traits (or are too smart for that) which makes us harder 2 respect ofc :( we’re not an easily digestible copy of their personality,,, we’re not people if we cant put on a performance for them, theyre like toddlers and need constant entertainment and reminders that we’re human through performative displays of relatability if we want them to stop oppressing us, and 2. most of us are disabled/ill in ways that make us unfortunately vulnerable, its hard to protect or advocate for ourselves sometimes, and 9 times out of 10 now speaking up anywhere causes intense unregulated social consequences bc we arent taken seriously and none of yall are willing to drop the clown act and risk being labelled ‘cringe’ for supporting us. so tbh, if you wanna be Real allies im begging you to actually start ‘cancelling’ ableists. you’re fully capable of it and showcase this all the time, so no excuses. cancel them into dust. if you care and dont wanna just lie to yourself about that, you need to disallow ableists in your space, try to give ableists in power consequences for it, stop Laughing At Ableism, and be ready to listen to us tell you why something is harmful even when it makes your privileged ass uncomfortable or confused. ill gladly explain it to you till you get it. first lesson! you wont get it bc ur not us. get over that and respect us anyways. make the easy benign changes in your life when we request it bc you have that power over us and we’re asking for to make it easier on us to exist. dont question it bc its not your question to ask. and if ur wondering why that should be your responsibility (even tho u dont wonder that with other minorities), u owe us that much letting us rot in asylums our entire lives for decades being experimented on and abused to death with eugenics , omg thankskskskskxkxkxk XOXO ! <3

[henlex]

Disclaimer: I accidentally fell in love with gye so just bare with me🙏 I didnt plan for that

Another underrated pair for @bonknanab 💖💕💖💕💖

Gyechan

First thoughts holy shit all the earth. But gye cancer venus MY HEART this boy is so soft bye. A whole marshmallow. Also the amount of taurus too, this boy LOVES cuddling. But so does minchie cuz virgo AND leo = cuddles sooooo. Leo moon. Makes sense.

Suns

Gye: taurus. Earth, really steady and strong, very consistent/ dependable. They rely on their senses to experience the world. Like the care a lot about how things feel, taste, smell. Catch them wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket. They can be possessive, they love their things a lot and want to protect them. But this can carry over to people too, they like to possess their loved ones, like have ownership of them. It helps them feel secure. It's just so cute oml😭 tangent: this is why kangmin feels so comfy with the and he's his favorite. He's just a kid with a ton of emotions (scorp moon) and gye is just so stable and reliable, that "I've got you I'm not going anywhere" energy that kangmin needs. I'm a sap leave me alone.  But they hardly get jealous. Can be pretty stubborn and slow moving. They dont like change and dont like changing their mind. Slow to start, especially if they're comfy, they might just lay in bed all day😂

Min: Virgo. Hardworking, love being knowledgeable about things/ learning about them. Sensitive to their surroundings. Can be shy with new people but when comfortable theyll talk forever. They love to be appreciated and useful. Prone to worry, they tend to be pretty responsible.  They love to be doing something and can get restless when they arent. Can be perfectionists because they want to do things the best they can. They're very aware of their bodies. Very curious and love to explore, great observers. They can be pretty hard on themselves 😭 They can be very proud of the way they do things. Can be big sweethearts and are always ready to help.

Moon

Gye: Taurus: ay it's me🤝 So a lot of the same as the sun, but this is the core, his emotions. These people have a super calming aura, you just kind of feel wrapped in a blanket. They love consistency and home. They put down deep roots. Can be a bit oblivious and avoid messy/ chaotic displays. Can be conservative. Deep emotions, affection, sentimental. Romantic but do like taking risks with the first move. Really good instincts. Really good sense of smell?? They really stick with things, dont run when things get hard. Once they're in, they're in for the long haul. It takes a lot to actually bother them.

Min: Leo. This is why he likes being on stage even though virgos tend to be behind the scenes types. They really love entertaining those they're close too and are often a comedian. They kind of like to control their inner circle. Strong desire to create and entertain but can be a bit lazy, possibly bossy too. They need a lot of love and attention to function😭 They can be really dramatic if they get offended but they dont like public displays, they save that for home😂 Stubborn, needs time to adjust to changes. They strive for fairness and hate following orders.

Mercury

Gye: taurus. Istg what is this man

Say it with me kids stub👏born👏

Slow moving, think through decisions. They seem lazy because of just how long it takes them to decide something😂 Slow to start things... Sensual again. Slow communication, everything is deliberate. Very practical so people take them seriously. Can be pretty sarcastic and funny. Pleasant voices. Practical in learning too, they need to have real world examples or know how it affects them.

Min: virgo😂. Likes order/ control, gets uneasy when it's not. Detail oriented. LOVE when appreciate their intellect. Very good at taking care of the day to day. They can be impatient with others because they think they do things best. Helps others by taking care of the little things.

Venus

Gye: cancer. UWU. We've got a marshmallow guys.

Ok so Sensitive in love, they like commitment and dependability. Theyll give you security, comfort and care. They show their love by caring for you. They crave safety. They watch their loved ones emotions. This is a big 180 after all the Taurus. They can be moody to get attention oml. Either this is really toned down from the taurus moon or im blind. It's hard for them to forgive/ forget if you've hurt them (same with the taurus moon so☠) They can retreat/ hide to care for themselves. God this is like taurus but extra soft😭 Ok so strong attachment to family and home. Sentimental, love snuggling😭 They need to feel secure and have a strong fear of rejection/ abandonment.

Min: virgo. Good lord. Not flirty. Tries to win someone over with devotion and showing them a ton of attention. Cautious, slowly makes his way into their heart. Sensitive and insecure in love😭 They need to know feelings are mutual before they make a move..... Can childishly tease their crush💆🏼‍♀️ But they have good intentions. They arent attracted to show offs, they like understated, unnoticed people. These people love quietly helping and doing the little things. You'll win them over if you recognize their efforts, they just want to be appreciated.

Mars

Gye: libra. Out of left field fr. Oop indecisive yet again. He's so lucky theres not a ton of fire in this group or I swear people would kill him. I'm sure dongheon and hoyoung have gotten impatient before tho cuz damn. Anyway they really like to weigh all their options. Overwhelming desire for balance. They're generally optimistic, and can be defensive. Can play innocent. Passive aggressive 💆🏼‍♀️. Very good mediators.

Can be incredibly charming. The pickiest lovers and desire equality it every aspect.

Min: leo. A strong creative energy and the feeling their life has significant meaning and purpose. Very passionate. Driven and normally have a set path. They have an air of authority and power. Lol they demand loyalty and admiration in their relationships. Can get fired up when they feel wronged or defensive. But they're really kind and driven by the heart.

Eye.

*skip for s*x mentions* do like idek how to say this. But like they want to be seen as godlike, worshipped. But they also want to worship the other person. Likes an imbalance of power. Show off. Possessive + jealous but tries to hide it. But everything is laced with love and affection.

Notes:

Gye's steadiness could really help min to calm his worry.

it's great that it takes a lot to actually annoy him cuz...we all know minchie 💕

Omfg they're both kinda lazy😂 Lazy morning cuddles let's goooo.

Ok but gye could very much be oblivious to mins need for love/ compliments etc. Cue that clip gye had to compliment min and it was short but min was like that's all?? And the was like Oh! And just kept on going. So cute. Like he has to problem expressing his affection but min literally needs to physically say how much he needs😂😂

They both hate change and surprises so🤝

Ok but minchans venus is kind of perfect for gyes cuz he needs that stability. But gye would probably be thrown at first if minchan wasnt being obvious. Theyd be really cute together but the challenge would be getting together.

Honestly they seem super soft and comfy (probably mostly behind the camera rip) earth babies but also playful and precious. As the 2 earth signs in the group (and with a ron of earth placements too) they could really find solace in each other and I think that's so sweet💕

[the-bard-followed-the-witcher]

FMK with the Witcher characters

So two ways that I’m understanding the question;

First: you are asking me, who i would FMK

Second: you want me to describe what it would look like if the characters were to play FMK together

For the sake of my own mental state, I’ll just answer both :)

First: I’d definitely Marry Jaskier (and adopt ciri my little angel) likely fuck Geralt or Yennefer (depends on who scares me less) and kill -because you didn’t limit that one- the shapeshifter guy whose name i forgot that deceived ciri

Second: (yes this became way too long)

Jaskier, Yennefer and Geralt were sitting on the fluffy blue carpet of Jaskiers room. The birthday party had died down about an hour ago and now that they were done with the clean up it was safe to assume that they, especially Jaskier, were bored out of their mind. And well because Jaskier was Jaskier he suggested playing a game before going to sleep: Fuck, marry, kill. Geralt hated the game. Yennefer even more so. But

It was Hard for either of them to say no to Jaskier, even more so when it was his birthday.

So they ended up here, sitting in a circle on Jaskiers floor, playing the worst game ever.

It was only after three full rounds that stuff really got interesting.

Yennefer was the one who finally had enough of the desperate gazes Geralt threw towards Jaskier whenever the overdramatic idiot moaned as he chose who to fuck. And not just that she hated the longing looks Jaskier threw at Geralt all the time. It was exhausting.

„So Jaskier...“ she started with a purr in her voice that suggested just how devilish her question would be. She had no mercy for her best friend of years. “FMK with the three that are sitting in this room.” The small grin displayed on her lips made Jaskier glance to Geralt for a second and blush. Why did yennefer always know how to make him embarrassed? She knew he liked Geralt damnit.

Despite his blush Jaskier kept his cool. He didn’t want to give Yennefer the satisfaction of making him embarrassed but he also desperately wanted Geralt to finally know, to finally get the hints he has been dropping for years.

“Oh Yennefer, eternal suffering of my life, how i adore your questions.” Yennefer just grimaced before grinning provokingly. God they truly had known each other for too long.

Sometimes Geralt felt a bit left out.

Especially when they did stuff like this. Stare into each others eyes as if they were holding a whole conversation only the two of them understood. Geralt never had that with yennefer. And with Jaskier, well he wished he could have something more than that. Something more intimate. Something he had not wanted with anyone but Jaskier for a very very long time. He gazed at Jaskier, neutral he thought, but really the hunger and longing was all over his face,

and Yennefer saw that. She saw how Geralts gaze went over Jaskiers body too as it had done a million times, and she grinned brighter. God the guy was almost drooling with Jaskier only in skinny jeans and a black top that was cut out enough, that one could almost see Jaskiers nipples. Yennefer couldn’t imagine what Geralt would do if they were to go swimming together.

Two options: either Geralt would just straight up black out, or: he would totally lose control. Yennefer would have enjoyed seeing either of these options. But sadly they were trapped here in a room, with Geralt obviously drooling over Jaskier and Jaskier, the oblivious idiot, not even realizing what was happening. The only thing that idiot was thinking about was how to answer her question without fully running into her trap. Well unfortunately for him, Yennefer knew exactly how to get her way.

“Jaskier, my sweet adorable devilish friend, how come you are taking so long to answer this one?” She bated her eyelashes and all Jaskier wanted to do was strangle her. Geralt was glaring at her too. Not because he understood the teasing, no, he was glaring because he dreaded the answer. He in a way didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to hear that Jaskier would kill him. That Jaskier would surely fuck Yennefer.

He knew it but he didn’t want to hear it. He knew it would only hurt.

With Jaskier it often did. With every flirt that was dedicated to someone else, it hurt. He wasn’t sure for how long he could take this, but if it meant staying by Jaskiers side, he’d do his best to endure for as long as he could.

Finally Jaskier was the one who grinned. Satisfied. “Ever so impatient Yennefer, it will fill you with relief to know that I’ve found my answer! Drumroll please!” Of course his overdramatic ass would ask for that. Yennefer just rolled her eyes and did the thing. She had to. If she wanted this to move along, she had to.

“Thank you Yennefer! Now, lets come to my answers.” He leaned forward and placed his head on his closed fists as his elbows rested on the floor. His cut low too hung low enough that one could almost see his whole chest and part of his stomach if one sat somewhere in front of him. Of course Geralt did exactly that. Yennefer watched as his gaze moved downwards for just a second, as he licked his lips, a bewildernment in his eyes that she had only ever seen him wear when Jaskier was being flirty.

“Soooooo, to take everybody’s mind of the most important part of this: i will not marry myself.” Jaskier grinned as both Yennefer and Geralt rolled their eyes. God he loved annoying them. “Okay okay jokes aside! Let’s make do the killing first. I choose...”He looked first to one then to the other of his companions. It was very dramatic. Very Jaskier.

“I choose myself.”

Both Yennefers and Geralts eyes widened in surprise. Both had expected themself. Jaskier simply grinned.

“Come on you guys! You didn’t seriously expect me to be able to kill either of you.” He put on a fake scowl. The typical jaskier, dramatic to a fault.

“Well...uhm, no? I mean... i dont...” Geralt had never been good with words and surpises were definitely not his thing. His mind was already with the other two options. Yennefer was the one to safe him. She was seriously concerned for Jaskier willingness to give up his life. This was not the first time.

“Jaskier, are you alright?”

Jaskier just kept grinning his blinding grin.

“of Course! Moving on!“ yennefer decided to let it go for now. There was plenty of time to fogure this one out.

„These two are way harder to choose, and although I’d love to devote myself to you completely for a night, i do not think i could survive that. Therefore, yennefer, I’ll marry you, but expect the divorce papers soon.” He let a wink follow expecting Yennefers confidence to falter. It didn’t. In fact her grin seemed to turn even more devilish.

Her voice was dripping with honey. Venomous honey. “Oh I’d gladly sign those divorce papers, after all, i know there is someone here in this room you’d much rather spend every night of your life with.” She almost giggled when both Geralt and Jaskier blushed furiously and looked anywhere but each other. God, how she enjoyed watching them squirm.

“Now Jaskier why don’t you tell us who it is again, that you’d gladly fuck?” More honey laced with venom. Even a kiss blown in Jaskiers direction.

He could barely keep himself seated as he felt Geralts eyes burn into the side of his skull. Why had he chosen this way again? He should have just killed yennefer and promised a friendship marriage to Geralt and that would have been it but no! No he had to finally admit to his attraction to Geralt. Damn it!

Geralt on the other hand felt like his insides were burning up. He had followed the game, he knew the answer to Yennefers question, he knew it damn well, and the fact that he was about to hear it from Jaskier, falling from those gorgous pink lips, made him squirm in his seat. He wasn’t even sorry for the intense glare he kept steadily on Jaskier.

However when Jaskier did finally say something, it was barely a murmur, not something anyone could have ever understood. Words purposefully lost. They all knew what he had said, and Geralt was ready to let it go, he didn’t want to embarrass Jaskier further, even if it meant never hearing the words, but Yennefer, she was different.

“What did you say, dear? We couldn’t quite understand that.” Gods that women!

She really knew how to mess with ones head and well Jaskiers was her favourite to mess with. She knew exactly how to pull his strings. For example: right now she was one sentence away from getting Jaskier to confess. Jaskier who was blushing madly and trying his very best to hide his face in his palms. Unsuccessfully. Still no answer. Yennefer grinned to herself.

“What is it, Jaskier, dear? Cat got your tongue?” It was the tone, the tone was all that was important, all that now finally let Jaskiers mind topple over and go into panic mode. Oh how she loved making her best friend finally confess.

And topple over, Jaskier did. Or really, he didn’t topple it seemed more like he took the furthest leap he ever had and then lost all control.

“I’d fuck Geralt, okay?! Damn it! I’d let him fuck me senseless right here right now. And then I’d probably beg him for more; I’d fuck Geralt. Gladly!”

Yennefer grinned. Jaskier didn’t even realize what he just said. The realization only hit him with each and every passing second after his outbreak. Geralt...

Geralt was a mess. His mind was running wild, trying so very very hard to process the words, words he had only ever dreamt to hear. And not just that Jaskier had practically invited him to do it here and now! He felt, heard his blood rush through his whole body, his lips dried up, his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He licked his lips. He was not sure he could stay in this room for much longer if his blood kept rushing downwards like this. He gulped.

Jaskiers eyes widened in shock as his words slowly settled in. Why was his stupid mouth always faster than his idiotic head?!? If the floor was to open right now and swallow him whole, he’d appreciate that very much. He didn’t feel Geralts gaze on himself anymore and if the other was grossed out by him, he’d totally understand, but he was curious, oh so curious. He let his eyes wander over to Geralt for just a milisecond before looking away again. Geralt was just staring at his lap and honestly Jaskier didn’t know what to do. So he did what he did best. He talked.

“You satified now, Yennefer?” He buried his face in his palms again. He really needed to get out of this room. Now.

Yennefer took a moment to peel her eyes off Geralt who was still not saying a word. But she knew how to read people. She knew what was going on in his mind.

“Yes i am, very much so in fact.” And in one smooth motion she was up on her feet and right by the door.

Jaskier felt the panic well up in him again.

“Where are you going?”

“Just getting myself a glass of water.” But the look she threw in his direction told him that she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon. She had planned all of this, that damned witch!

But he couldn’t stay in here! Not after what he said. Not with Geralt, the Geralt he had just invited to fuck him, right there with him, not saying a god damn word. He was fucked. He couldn’t stay here. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Geralt was to say something but then again the silence was already killing him.

“Yennefer, wait-“ but she was already out of the door. Geralt and Jaskier were left with nothing but each others company and the elefant in the room.

For what felt like eternity it was just silence, awkward silence. Neither of them dared to break it. Neither of them knew how. It was hell.

Not even the usually so chatty Jaskier knew how. He had embarrassed himself in the highest form. Geralt must hate him, must be so ashamed. He should have never made them play this stupid game. He should have known it would end badly. And now,

now he had fucked up his one chance with Geralt. He truly was a fool. Why couldn’t god just finally strike him and end his misery?

Suprisingly enough it was Geralt who finally had the courage to say something.

„Jask?“ there was something weird in his tone, something that made Jaskier squirm in his seat even more. He had never heard it before. He couldn’t place it. But there was no hiding now. Geralt had broken their silence, he at least needed to acknowledge that.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly one last time still hoping that somehow he could disappear or turn back time, but of course neither of those things happened and when he opened his eyes again he looked over to Geralt, Geralt who was still looking at his lap as if deep in thought. Gourgous, beautiful Geralt. He couldn’t believe he’d lose Geralt now.

„Yes, Geralt?“

Neither of them knew what to expect when Geralt looked up and their gazes met. Gold met blue. And while blue was plainly desperate, embarrassed with only a hint of hope, gold was laced over with nervousness, and underneath something that Jaskier couldn’t quite place, something that made his skin tingle. He almost looked away.

And then Geralt said:

„Can i...“ he gulped, „... can i kiss you?“ and Jaskier wasn’t quite sure he was really breathing after. Because Geralt had just said that and he wasn’t sure he could trust his ears. And his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, beating so loud even Yennefer downstairs could hear.

And when he breathed out a „yes“ he wasn’t even sure he had really said it. Because his heart was so loud, and his blood was rushing through his ears, and he was sure, sure when he saw Geralts gaze go wild that this was a dream, that he had misheard.

But it merely took a milisecond until Geralt was across the room to where Jaskier still sat, and pressing his lips furiously to the others. Bruising, desperate, helpless. Years of longing and lusting poured into one kiss.

And Jaskier moaned with it when Geralt pulled him in his lap and pushed his tongue between his pink lips that he had desired for an eternity. Their skin was tingly all over, on fire where the other touched. All their minds could focus on was lips pressing to lips.

And it was sloppy and there was too much saliva but Jaskiers hands were tangled in Geralts long locks that he had pulled up so prettily for his birthday, and Geralt growled, growled almost inhumanly and grabbed Jaskier waist tighter and fuck Jaskier was definitely too far gone now.

And Geralt tried so very hard to keep his last ounce of self control, but Jaskier was pushing his hips forward up against his groin and he had dreamed of this for too long, far too long and when Jaskier moaned again the realization hit him that he was kissing Jaskier, who he had wanted to make his since the day they met, and Jaskier was moaning, moaning because of Geralt, and he had been doomed from the very start.

He didn’t keep his control for long

and soon all they were was a kissing, moaning mess of limbs on the floor, Geralt on top of Jaskier, Jaskier pushing upwards with his hips,

It was pure bliss.

Yennefer was glad Jaskiers parents had chosen a comfortable couch for the downstairs living room. That definitely made it significantly easier for her to fall asleep. A satified grin rested on her face that night. She was sure her two friends up stairs were having an even better time.

Sometimes Yennefers manipulation lead to good things after all.

(Not my best work but hey it’s good for being so improvised XD)

[currentfandomkick]

Why Marinette Hates Tim

Marinette blames Tim next summer for all that happened. Why? He cursed her with a vague theory. And Max and her Both know give her a clue and she has to follow it to solve the puzzle—a fatal flaw for her, Puzzler, Hero Stalker (Tim), Riddler and her father, Professor Strange (even if he is using an alias and supposedly dead as far as legal documents go).

Hero Staker Tim swore he’d become Robin if the current one left. It was a joke between them, she thought. Then he vanished the next summer, the first one where there wasnt any Robin mentioned anywhere. It was eery.

Then, then Timothy Drake, heir to some company-who looks a lot like her Hero Stalker—is a Wayne. And there’s a new Robin. This... deeply bothers Marinette. Why? New Robin seeks her out and talks a lot like Hero Stalker. And has a too similar movement pattern and tells.

And wasnt Hero Stalker Tim from a rich but high on neglient at best family? Didnt that happen to Timothy Drake before ending up as a Wayne?

Her that puzzle peice was central to figuring this out and goddamnit. Frost, who hates gossip, told her to just look up the rich families with kids Hero Stalker’s age and see who looked like him and to leave from to his lab and antidotes already.

Frost accidently gave her the vital method to see if Hero Stalker was that dumb to be become Robin after Robin the Second (Jason) was brutally murdered. The answer was yes.

And now Marinette had a crisis. She knew Batman’s identity was Bruce Wayne. How? Tim calls Bruce his dad. New Robin slipped and called him dad. And Tim is New Robin since Tim is Hero Stalker and no one else came close to looking like Hero Stalker from the data pool which involved more hacking than she ever thought she would do.

Marinette, a child, figured out who Batman was by age 9 becuase his new Robin/former Stalker was too obviously himself. She is embarrassed on his behalf, and honestly debates asking Riddler to separate him and Bats in a non-lethal puzzle trap just to lecture him. Becuase what the fuck Hero Stalker! If she can figure it out, then everyone else can too! Probably(?) likely. Either way its bad!

She doesnt though... Riddler puts together she’s concerned for the new Robin, traps Bats in a different puzzle maze from Robin, who is stuck with a grounded Marinette. Why was she grounded, easy. She got caught returning stolen jewlry on camera. It was punishment for failing basic stealth—always take out any witness.

And instead of pointing out she knows who Bats is, she tells him to work on a different persona since ‘i made you weeks ago. Its pretending to be someone you’re not completely is all. I have to do that around Maman and Papa all the time, and whenever i go out with anyone really. Up your secret identity game already!’

Riddler is busy with Bats and didnt do cameras. Why? “Im not redesiging a perfectly good grounding maze every time. They take time and i dint always have it. Its time economics Batman. I dont know what our lovely Princess said or did to your Robin. He’s fine though, see? No major injuries.”

Tim relized Marinette knew Hero Stalker was batman’s new Robin. This meant one thing—he could still help her and the RKC now! Why? He knew even if they made him out, they want to help people and never be like their parents, duh. And if they added to his budding information network with incredibly accurate information so long as he didnt rat them out to Batman, its fine.

Afterall, Pixie Pop wants to help poeple and is working the rouges into vigilantes to help more than hurt, and is doing a great job of it for the most part. So if Pixie Pop is Princess who’s the maybe kryptonian and her powers align with that theory, so what? Superman has an heir already and a bio!son too, apparently. Lois didnt tell him since they werent together then and yeah. So really, Superman didnt need another kid, and Pixie Pop didnt want another dad—“i have Papa and Father and now four of my friends’ dads in Paris called dibs on partial custody. I have more dads than i need for a quartet. That is far too many dads and i refuse to get another one!”

Then Marinette is talking to Alix and finds out about an old director at the Lourve her dad knew, Diana Prince. Marinette was working on a Wonder Woman inspired outfit, and knew her history of Wonder Woman thank you. Its just...

Wonder Woman appeared just after Miss Prince Left. And from the videos Alix sent of her new hero, she was terrifyingly similar to Wonder Woman. Not only did they look alike and have the same hair style preference, it was the same face if she did facial recognition with Markov, her robot son with Max. Then there was gait, generao stances and how she interacted with men and women so differently as both people and damnit. Same person.

She curses Hero Staker Tim for this. She now has to hide two hero identities. Why her?

The third was debatably Ivy and Harley’s fault, but defiantely still Tim’s. Why? He was the one that got her hooked on Barry Allen’s cases, and pointing out that he didnt see meta as bad or evil but as people who can be good or be civilians peacefully. That, she needed that with how much vitrol she had to swallow about her powers indirectly from everywhere but her school and some parts of Gotham.

In her defense, she is a nerd here. A nerd. So realizing the The Flash is also the forensics guy from Central City that she kinda follows on all her social medias, watches the cases of unfold, and knows has a reputation for being late a lot like her but is still well liked. So she may fangirl about his cases with Hero Stalker erm. Tim now, still.

And if one day she managed to pout at her father enough to get him to agree to let her go with Harley and Ivy to Central City for a few days to see the meta museum they just opened up (technically the Flash Museum, but Marinette didn’t care. It was focused on metas not being horrible and that meant a lot to her scared, meta closeted butt).

And then her favorite forensic investigator, The Barry Allen, shows up? Best day ever. He’s nice! And concerned about how much of his cases she knows. Its not her fault this time though! Hero Stalker—Tim—sent her a case of his that went cold and she liked his science and yeah. New hero added to her listpersonal heroes list.

Harley isn’t even mad, just amused as Marinette fangirls over someone that isnt her and Barry has no clue how to respond as a tiny child know him as Barry Allen and thinks he’s awesome? Why?? He is happy but so confused and Iris is dying until Marinette cites cases that she shouldnt know about and tiny child why, how, when and where did you get that information!

The only answer is a friend likes cold cases and has no qualms hacking to find interesting ones, if he’s stumped then Marinette (Jill Smith mr. allen sir!) gets to try. And she is good at it since she can ask an officer in France (officer Raincomprix) about logistical things, common error margins and then puzzle it all out herself from there.

Somewhere she mentions absently that her mom doesnt like her science-y side since her dad was a bad person and liked science but she still likes learning and helping, even if the family buisness is food and service and they want her to either take over or become a designer. She’s thinking maybe for people woth disabilites so she can do more mental work and toy with hiw things bend and move and such.

Iris and Barry are ConcernedTM and debating how to get custody, or get her away from her mom or both. Probably both—no science allowed for a clear science obssessed kid is a red flag for bith of them that somethinf is very wrong. Harley and Ivy wave it off as “trust us, her mom aint budging.”

then the Flash is needed because of some gorilla—Marinette was more focused on an outfit on display and muttering over aerodynamics and friction. Barry is Concerned (smart kid, likes helping, potentially a league ally?) before he bolts, determined to get more on her when he returns and possibly see if he can get cps involved.

Marinette only notices that her hero moving so fast and oh god she did it again damnit! That was superspeed. And only one speedster had similiar measurements, the Flash.

She cant even tell Hero Stalker now because he’s Robin and the Justice League would Flip if they knew she knew 3 of their hero’s identities. She just hit her head and said “i did it again!” Harley pats her head while Marinette burrows into her because why is she a danger to the Justice League and secret identities! She doesnt want to be or to know damnit!

Tim sneezes in the distance and wonders who’s talking about him behind his back this time. He messages batgirl about this bad feeling he has and she laughs it off as the boy developing Batman’s paranoia.

Her Fourth solve was Green Arrow. It was an accident! She swears. She just saw oliver queen with a bow and arrow in a video shooting. and noticed he had a very distinct and familiar style to someone but not who. Then compared it to various archers as her brain was nagging. Then saw a green arrow video and cursed herself again then Tim five more times.

She sent a message to Rose asking why she’s a danger to all secret identities. Rose tells her it is her curse for being too damn smart and not leaving things alone.

Marinette tries reallly hard not to figure out the next one. But really, it should have been an earlier solve and she’s mad at herself for missing it for so long, even if it was more aviodance than denial.

Admittedly this one should have been an earlier solve, but she was very little when she found out about the surgery and everything and it was uncomfortable damnit! So she did what any reasonable child would. Ignore it. Then she went over the file to see if maybe she could possibly target parts of the kyptonian DNA in her to weaken it. And saw who the intended donor was, Clark Kent, a reporter that has impossible luck with big hero scoops, is never injured or rescued, and never been sick. He also looks like... one quick photoshop of his glasses onto superman with a clothing change and she sees her usual disguise technique on goddamn superman. She is overwhelmed with this as ‘oh god superman will kidnap me if he finds out!’ And hides from him whenever he’s in the region—be it France or Gotham.

Her friends think its hilarious, Marinette feels sick from it. She doesnt like this and is genuinely scared for her life and family’s safety now. And we all know how nervous marinettes are.

If at one point batman tried to talk to her on patrol and somewhat suceeded. As in, she spoke beofre bolting.

“I didnt figure out who boyscout and amazon and boltbrain and arrowhead are! Or you and the batfam! Bye!!!!” Yes, clearly Marinette can lie very well.

Batman sees through it and feels sick. He forces a league meeting asap and fills them in.

“this kid put five of our identities together and cant even lie. We need to recruit them.”

“Batman, is this that kid KF mentioned to me?”

Batman nodded. Flash sighed. “Okay. We are on a manhunt for a kid kyptonian that is terrified of all of us, very smart, and may have an active gotham villain as a parent. And somehow knows me and—wait. bats, do you have any pics of your rogues in civilian clothing? I need to test a theory...”

A few minutes later and “oh my god that little kid i met as a civilian figured me out!”

A few days later Flash finds her by acccident as a civilian kid in broad daylight on her own in Central. He doesnt show he knows she knows, And finds out she’s waiting for her babysitter to finish a class.

Flash just asks about a case he put together as Barry Allen that she might know about and...

“Uh, mr. Flash? Why are you asking me? The lead florensics was Barry Allen.”

He tries insulting Barry Allen—he’s late and sloppy and—

only for Marinette to defend him to the death. “He’s late because he stays up late working on other cases. Appearances and organizational skills arent what matters with his expertise mr. flash! He even foghts for metas to have their circumstances and powers impact on them considered dueing sentencing!”

Flash is very touched and shocked. only then he manages to get out of her that where she lives (france) being meta is a life sentence to “a living zombie And jail-time for being born a lot, even if it is t in normal prisons. And you know what? Mr. Allen stated so many times that you need to contextualize powers and abilities and intent in his testimonies for meta cases. Back home youre put in prison for defending yourself...” she tugs at her sleeve here.

“Maman screamed at me when she found out a few kids were getting stalked and i helped out and someone got it on tape. Not becuase my powers showed or anything—father made a treatment so they dont, well, they stay off when i use them and follow all the behavior and environmental rules so they cant put me in one of the centers. But she, she’s stills cared someone will try to check me for abilities back in France, and that she’ll lose me. She doesnt always realize i have them until things like that happen...”

Flash is desperately trying not to adopt her. Wally would love a little sister, and Superman has enoguh kids, Bats does too. he is oreventing arrow form having another one as she’s powered and that isnt a good when working with Green Arrow unless the meta is his girlfriend. And the girl loves science—come on!

batman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman and Superman heard the Feance bit over comms and suddenly it hit them that the kid could be in danger for existing and that an entire country villified being meta to an extreme. That the girl is in hiding and probably using an alias constantly. Batman mentally adopted her ages ago and is now in Worried Dad mode like Flash and apparently Superman was falling into it too. Wonder Woman is in righteous rage mode and ready to fight france herself if she has to—no imprisoning metas for being metas!

Flash decided to be direct since he knew she trusted him as Mr. Allen and knows he’s Flash.“So, am i allowed to know which powers you have?”

Marinette shook her head, visbily distressed and floating skightly. “If, if they ever find out i cant. I cant risk Maman and Papa and Father. I dont know everything but Father only started being a good person after the, the incident where he had to go into witness protection. Maman is dead as far as a lot of people are concerned, or she never existed. Papa doesnt know about any of it. I cant. I cant risk what they worked for by being outted.”

Flash is very concerned. “Thats a lot of pressure to put in yourself, especially at your age.”

marinette didnt make eye contact then. “I have to. If i dont people can connect dots and dashes and blips. Father says its easy for him too and that possibilities are just what we’re both hardwired for but. But i shouldn’t catch as many as i do—my teachers keep saying i need to dial it back and stop catching on so fast and blurting it all out but, i just...” marientte is visibly drowning under the pressure to act not-meta and keep her family safe.

“Sounds like youre a real smart kid.”

“Smart kids dont get caught.” She meant herself with her jewlry returns, Flash thought she meant the JL, and tried to redirect the conversation.

If the JL was out then...

“If you cant tell me, can you at least tell me you have someone to talk to about these things?”

“Auntie Quinn and Rose. Rose doesnt like you guys though.”

Flash laughed a little at that. “Alright, fair enough. Who made her mad? Was it arrow?”

“Batman.” Marinette frowning as she said the enxt bit. “Something about her being given to someone that should never be allowed bear children? She rants a lot so i cant always keep up.”

Batman internally bangs his head against a table. Outwardly, he says “Ivy’s daughter, rose. That girl, she’s the Princess.”

The assemebled winced. They all pushed for Rose to be sent toback to her mother, Ivy, since they didnt trust her with any available mentor and Ivy was usually a low ranking Gotham eco-terrorist pacified by wayne gardens and green initiatives. Apprently Rose has a lot of sway over the Princess too.

Marinette changes the conversation while. Waiting for her babysitter, Ghoul, to leave class. She needs a distraction from her situation that the Flash was willing to give her.

“Can i look at the case again? Something doesnt add up... there! See? Its close to the Speedsters that leave marks at those angles but only if they really mess with the speed force and the spacetime continuum! But theres no evidence of that, its a lightning meta, Possibly using it to teleport since no one came in or out on camera. Its a slight angle and all but...”

Flash decides Marinette will join the Justice League one day or so help him! He also decides to target france’s anti-meta policies and possibly kidnap Marinette.

The League isnt letting him. But he has a fan of Barry Allen who is handling Gotham’s criminals and beign given slack by them... albeit also raised by in-part. But the girl has a strong moral compass that is a lot like most of League’s so.

He’s fighting Bats for custody on principle. His fangirl, he has dibs!

Dont know why it ended up with Flash becoming a ‘Marinette is my daughter now’ person but why not? Wally would like her as a sister, probably.

Marinette blames all of this and the future consequences on Tim. She hates her vanishing freind for this.

[moonguilt]

random klance and adashi headcanons? 🥺🤲

i have been meaning to put some grocery shopping headcanons out there… so here u go (plenty more beneath the cut as well):

-when keith and lance are falling in love and in their honeymoon phase with each other, they jump at the opportunity to go grocery shopping together because a) they wanna spend every moment with each other, and b) it’s domestic af and it makes them feel like they Have Something

-once they’ve been together a while, the novelty wears off and the laziness kicks in and they both try to find increasingly ridiculous ways to get the other person to go shopping without them

-keith usually goes for willful/feigned ignorance: “what kind of toothpaste did you say you wanted?” like 4 separate times, and then “idk they all look the same to me, i usually just grab whatever” and when lance inevitably goes on a tirade about the importance of his Very Specific brand and flavor, keith concludes with a “maybe you should buy it in person if you want to be sure you get the right one”

-lance’s tactic neglects logos and instead relies on pathos: “keeeith i am so tired” “keeeith my toes are still so cold from the walk home” “i promise i’ll go next time keith pleeeaase kosmo is in my lap and he’s so comfy look at him keith look. we are having a bonding moment keith dont interrupt us”

-when lance REALLY wants something Very Specific and is genuinely worried that keith will mess it up, he will give in to keith’s strategy and just go shopping himself, but 90% of the time keith is a Weak man and lance always gives him a big toothy grin and a kiss whenever he agrees so honestly you can’t blame him

-also it gives him a chance to restock his emergency midnight snack lunchables stash without lance giving him the “you are a grown man and my mamá gave me so many good recipes for us to try out and yet you choose to bring this under our roof” lecture (even though keith is sure that he bought 5 packs last time and only ate 3 of them but now their pantry is mysteriously devoid of lunchables, which means somebody in this house is lying about their disdain for lunchables)

-but ANYWAY sometimes they still actually do go to the store together just like old times and when they do:

-taking turns doing the thing where you run and put your weight on the back of the shopping cart and let it glide-(getting caught doing exactly that by an employee and being told off for it after they nearly knock over a chef boyardee can display)

-choosing an item on the list that they have no idea where to find & racing each other to see who can find it first

-“do you see this toothpaste keith. do you see this? can you see the name? can you read the flavor? you see how it says ‘for sensitive teeth’? do you see it?”-“considering you are practically shoving it down my throat, yes.”-“well then maybe your esophagus will be able to remember it for you next time you go shopping”

-keith grabbing the last pack of rainbow gold fish bc they are his favorite-toddler wanted those goldfish & starts crying-”ah shit fuck hey hey hey uhhh” cue keith turning a desperate look toward lance bc he Does Not Know how tf to handle small crying child-lance is like “dude, baby, sweetheart, my man, just give him the goldfish we can get the regular ones”-but keiths like?? bitch?? i got these first?? also im gay and these are my pride fish?? dont be homophobic-lance is about to argue with him abt it but then the kid’s mom gets involved and is like “how could you make my baby cry he’s just a kid let him have his goldfish dont be selfish”-you’ve activated Protective Lance mode-“um okay first of all, rude, keith got them first. second of all, this isnt even healthy for your kid. THIRD of all these are rainbow colored and keith is gay so maybe dont be homophobic??”-things escalate and keith and lance nearly throw down with karen and little jimmy in the snack aisle-they savor every last one of those fucking rainbow goldfish later that night, just out of pure gay spite

-lance spending several minutes inspecting individual broccoli stalks meticulously to make sure they buy only the very best-he narrows it down to two but keeps debating between them until keith comes up behind him and slumps against his back, wrapping his arms around lance’s waist and muttering something about how cold the produce aisle is-lance makes a snarky comment about keith being a whiny baby & keith retaliates by slipping his freezing fingers under lance’s shirt, prompting a startled yelp and giving keith the opportunity to pluck a broccoli stalk from lance’s hand and put it in the cart

-“okay, while we’re here, let’s grab a cucumber for the salad”-“gotcha, one cucumber coming right up–.. hey.. hey, keith, this one kinda looks like a–hehehe–hey keith, do you think i could–hnnkeehehe–do you think i could fit this one up–”-“oh my god”-“what do you say keith–you, me, this cucumber, a bottle of wine–”-“alright im getting on line.”-“wait wait babe im kidding come back let me put the cucumber in the cart”-“NO go get a different one, i am NOT letting that one anywhere near our salad”

-selfies with the local Stop & Shop robot. lance thinks it’s kind of creepy but keith thinks it’s cute and lance thinks that’s cute, so

-“lance we left the reusable bags in the car”-“quiznak. well that’s okay, we can just use plastic bags this one time and i’ll make sure we put them to good use at home so it’s not wastefu–”-“no. we paid money for our bags. we have to use them. i’ll be right back”-“keith we parked way down on the other side of the–oh my god KEITH WATCH OUT FOR THAT OLD LADY holy shit SLOW DOWN oh my god man”

-keith tries to sneak those storebought sugar cookies, you know the clear-boxed ones that they always put out front with holiday-colored frosting and sprinkles, into their cart-“keith what is with your obsession with processed food”-“it was all had to eat when i was living alone in the desert”---“baby that is very sad and you know i empathize with your tragic anime backstory but put those godawful abominations back or so help me”

-only, keith isn’t the only one who likes processed food

-yeah, another reason keith is so used to it is because even after he started living with shiro, he kept eating that junk because that’s all shiro ever ate too

-shiro is a slut for kraft mac & cheese

-this presents a problem for him and adam, because adam loves spicy food and loves to make spicy food for shiro to eat

-but shiro is a big baby, and due to his inability to cook and his subsequent reliance on kraft & campbell’s & top ramen, he basically has white people taste buds

-adam is scandalized when he learns this the hard way after finding shiro nearly in tears over his half-eaten serving of dum aloo

-adam promptly declares that shiro needs a culinary intervention and they have been working towards the recovery of his palate ever since

-shiro is a creature of habit though, and he will try to convince adam to let them buy kraft mac & cheese whenever they go to the store together (which is often because unlike keith and lance, they never got tired of it and they still consider it a romantic domestic activity to this day. they’re just gay like that)

-when keith and shiro have their “broganights” together they indulge in all their crappy processed comfort food, much to the consternation of lance and adam, who bond over their shared exasperation and begrudging affection for their respective partners