#I could be entirely wrong on the ball here but my first impressions is that she feels mysterious/evasive

[takes1]

UHMMM hello, RAN HERE to request 😭😭😭 Please could I have an NSFW scenario where experienced!shortreader with a size kink devours inexperienced!lev and tries to teach him a few things. RIDING this man till he dies. Please and thank you. 😝❤️

clingy!lev crushing on reader

i cant tell you how real of a phenomenon this is. thank you for the opportunity to write thiiiis. ohh man i hope this finds the right freaks bc i am into this. absolute two-parter. titled 'the lev brainrot' in my notes.

warnings. recreational alcohol consumption. nsfw to follow. minors DNI

details. fem!reader / porn! with! plot! (this is the plot) / praise kink / size kink / clingy!lev / inexperienced!lev / experienced!reader / 'mom-friend' reader / bar setting / heavy drinking / best friend!kuroo / college au! / manager?trainer?reader / aged-up characters / 2k words / reply to be added for part two!

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You called him Haiba, not Lev, because you didn't want him getting the wrong impression. There were only a handful of players, all seniors along with you, that you called by first name-- he plainly held the most animosity toward them.

Of course, you weren't ignorant to his little attachment.

It took the form of him grasping at straws to find something to talk to you about, usually in rushed attempts between warm-ups. Or asking you obvious, sometimes repeat-questions about ailments he hypothetically did or did not have. Or, when the team went out for morale events, he worked like a dog to sit or stand next to you.

You once asked him: "Haiba!"

"Hm?" His attention was fully captured, his attempt to receive forgotten. The ball rolled past him on the floor and his teammate across the gym groaned, "Yes-Yes ma'am?"

That wasn't your intention, to distract him. You sighed and picked the ball up. A handful of new members called you 'ma'am' but Lev was by-far the worst offender.

"You have any sisters?"

"I do!"

He looked like he was about to tell you his entire life story, so you threw the ball back at him and urged him to keep practicing, instead.

Maybe that had something there. It could connect with how he didn't take as easily to the senior guys on the team. If he wasn't accustomed to handling dude-dynamics with brothers, it made sense that he might seek the comfort of a somewhat-familiar presence, like a sister.

Still, that idea didn't hold much weight when you considered his time playing competitively in high school. He spoke about the friends and experiences he made there with fervor and excitement. He got along with guys. He wasn't shy, he wasn't reserved, and he didn't have problems speaking up.

Your curiosity got the better of you at one of your team outings.

The local bar on the square was packed on a Friday night. The team barely got seated, but once you were all comfortable, it was a rowdy and fast kind of evening that zoomed right through decent hours. You were all buzzed already from the restaurant you walked there from-- the idea to 'keep it going' was indulgent, and probably your first mistake.

Kuroo took the seat right next to you like he had at the last spot, but laughed, capturing your attention, and stepped back down.

"Oops! Sorry, Lev! That's your spot buddy, my bad- my bad," He cackled, and brushed the seat off for him.

It was only kind of a joke. You blushed, forearms prickling up, at the looks and snickers it generated from the rest of the team.

Lev took too long to decide if he should sit there. Kuroo shimmied into the seat across from you with a smirk.

"Just- just sit down," You pulled the chair out more so his legs would fit, and lowered your voice to something nicer, "Lev, don't mind that dumbass."

You were left to smooth it all out, as usual.

The guys often joked, in his absence, and on occasion right in front of him, that he had an obvious crush on you. You didn't like to entertain it, because it made things super awkward. Somebody had to put their foot down, or else the whole team would get too unprofessional and potentially mean-natured to the new guys. You found yourself advocating for him, giving every excuse to call it something else. Lately, you were married to the sibling idea.

Lev sat down, but slow, and armed with an odd look.

All you paid notice to was how he didn't need to jump or climb up the way you did, to get into the tall, narrow chairs.

The waitress came around, already horribly busy, and you helped her by facilitating some semblance of focus amongst your friends.

You patted the table, leaning all the way over Lev, to get Yaku's attention, "Hey- hey! What do you want?"

"Oh! Uhhh- rum'n'coke, please,"

Thankfully, it spurred a string of just rum and coke orders down the length of the two tables you had corralled together. You sighed, rubbing your face, at how stupid they all got when they were together and tipsy. You got three orders of jalapeño poppers for the table and had to forbid anyone else from revising theirs, after hearing such a great idea.

You also ordered something incredibly strong and tipped her well.

Then, it took a while to relax. Kenma helped, seated on your right- you watched him play Mario Kart on his Switch and sipped on your water. But you could feel Lev's weird, fresh energy, and wished Kuroo had stayed. You had three years of goofing around with him, and now he was all the way across the table. This place was too loud to hear much of anything, so you were barred from a lot of easy-to-make conversation with old friends.

The food, the drinks, and the three pitchers of beer they ordered, couldn't come fast enough. It took about seven levels of playing for your orders to start floating around the table to their designated owners.

12 guys + 3 baskets of jalapeño poppers = 20 seconds of frenzied grabbing, followed by 2 minutes of silent seething and burned tongues for the rest of the night. You grabbed five and placed them on a napkin, to eat on slowly.

Lev was already done with a tall glass of Michelob Ultra.

"Are you kidding me?" You watched in shock and awe as he wiped the foam from his upper lip and set the empty thing down.

"What?" He laughed, "Those are spicy!"

They, almost certainly, were not spicy. His tolerance must have aired more on the 'lighter' side. That went largely ignored, though, as you watched him pour a second glass with perfect angle and precision.

His arms were long and could reach far into the center of the table, especially if he leaned forward. You subconsciously began to catch up with your own drink, eyes glued to the way his lats were visible through his shirt as he pulled his glass back in.

You squinted at the face he made when he sniffed the rim of it.

"Do you like beer? Or--,"

Lev couldn't hear you. He leaned in with an amused grin, and you caught a whiff of something that smelled good enough to make you smile a bit.

Some of his hair brushed your cheek from how close he got to listen.

"Do you like that stuff? Or are you just drinking it to look cool?"

When you pulled away, he was staring at your yummy drink held close to your mouth- then your nose, and back up to your eyes. He closed the distance again.

"You think I look cool?"

You laughed and pushed his shoulder back lightly- he laughed, too, and shrugged, "I mean- if it's working, yeah!"

Anytime you wanted to talk, you would look at Kenma, then down at his game, and eventually lean towards Lev, instead.

The way he looked at you made you all warm and fuzzy. Like he wanted to hear what you had to say soo badly. He was eager, and jumped at the opportunity to get close, to feel your voice brushing by his warm ear, a light touch on his arm, or his leg.

The night was a crash course in what kind of person he was. You learned a lot about him.

"Ohh! Oh! An older sister!" Your eyes lit up, your hypothesis confirmed at last. Lev nodded with a big grin, no idea why that made you so happy. But you didn't smile much at practice, so he didn't pry.

You pushed yourself up and slapped a hand in front of Kuroo, hard, on the table. He was grinning as you pointed a stiff finger at him.

"I told you!!"

"I'm sure you did!" He yelled back with a laugh, "What the hell are we talking about?"

As you sat back down, Kuroo caught Lev staring shamelessly at your ass. He snapped his fingers at him like he was trying to get a puppy's attention. You didn't realize that's what he was doing.

"He has an older sister!"

Kuroo rolled his eyes. This hill you were going to die on was getting excavated as you preached, so confidently, that it was your unmovable mountain. But- who was he to take away your beacon of hope? Dance on the dirt mound all night. He'd help you out of the mud in the morning, because you were his friend. And he thought your little quirks were funny enough to entertain.

Blind to the very argument against your excitement -Lev, staring hard down through your 'going out' top- you explained, "That's why! Kuro- you were dead wrong!"

Kuroo's belly-laugh was not what you were after.

"Oh- ohhh fuck! You're too cute- ahaha! You really are!"

You crossed your arms. Lev gulped down another glass, a needed endeavor, to be buzzed enough to keep talking to you. Talking, or yelling, rather, to Kuroo had already lost its novelty because he could never just let you be right, for once.

"Yooo!! Lemme get some of those!"

Yamamoto's hand was already in your reserved stack of food.

You swatted it away, hard.

"Fuck off!"

He retracted right away, faked a sob, then yowled- it was nothing in volume compared to the bustle of the noisy bar.

Lev hummed next to you. It sounded like a word, so after you were done laughing at Yamamoto, you turned your attention over and felt a fun whoosh as your vision lagged. You blinked for a long second, and set your drink down with a giggle.

That was officially enough.

"What did you say!" You asked Lev.

"What!" He yelled over the music.

You giggled and pulled on his shirt at the shoulder hem to get him to lean closer. His grin was horribly handsome, his engrossed eye contact so cute, and you found yourself unable to stop your giggles. You rested your warm forehead on his shoulder.

He smelled good. Like a pricey, foreign cologne. You were still gripping his sleeve.

Out of all the guys here, none of them were as cute as Lev right now.

That handsome smile was back on his face, "You called me Lev earlier!"

You were confused, for a moment. What? When? Why?

An incomplete excuse, if you had ever heard of one, "Must've been- uhh, well, I think Kuro called you Lev, so-!"

When you let go of him, you missed the feeling. Your fingers were cold and wanted to hold something, so you picked your drink back up and finished it. Only after, when it all went to your head, did you realize you had already decided not to do that.

Kuroo startled you when he spoke at you from behind. You quickly fell back into your never-ending string of giggles at how silly it was.

"You want anything? I'm starting a tab!" He asked you over the music.

The sound of that appealed to you, but you knew better.

"I'm- whew-- Yeah," You laughed, and rubbed the top of his hand, nodding, "I'm good-I'm good! Don't give me anything."

Kuroo lingered for a few breaths, analyzing you from over your shoulder, then directed a mean squint to Lev.

"You tell her to keep up with you?"

It was a far reach and a confusing question. The pretty boy's hesitant head shake pissed him off a little more than it should have.

"Make sure she drinks water," Kuroo announced to him, within earshot, and rubbed your shoulder again with a goodbye-pat.

He stayed a few seconds longer, looking for the best route to get to the bar, then directed his attention back to Lev. His hard grip was a painful on his shoulder, purposefully squeezing him. A warning.

"You wanna stare at'er all fuckin' day, then let her get this drunk? I know what you're doing," Was a vicious, eerily quiet, mutter.

"Don't be a prick," He shoved him, just a little, when he walked past.

In reality, it was just a bit of misplaced concern. Lev turned his head, thoroughly intimidated, tracking Kuroo all the way to the bar.

"Um-,"

His nerves seemed to fall away when he looked down at your pretty smile, how you were still finding everything a bit too funny. Plus, your body was really getting to him. Maybe it was because you kept touching him.

Again, he had to lean down far to speak to you, "(Y/n)? Uh... Kuroo- he isn't your boyfriend, right?"

Regardless of sobriety, you would've laughed really hard at that. Your hands gripped around his arm; this time, unnecessarily, and enough to make his blush strong and vibrant.

"Oh my God! No!"

Lev laughed with you, lightly, with eyes still on Kuroo, far away.

"Ohh, this is gonna sound so terrible-," You laughed under your palm, debating on whether on not to keep talking, but Lev gave you this 'I wanna know so bad' look, and you just couldn't stop yourself, "But he's not my type. Not at all."

An incredible wave of confusion took over his pretty features.

"He's too smart for me- it's kind of, I dunno, like-- I wanna call the shots, do all the thinking, y'know?"

It's not that Lev identified as being dumb, but the proclamation made him hard, and simultaneously view you as more capable. He didn't know the first thing about girls, but you seemed to know enough for the both of you.

Transfixed, he nodded along, halfway-listening to you ramble, halfway-focused on flexing his arm for you.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

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future details/sneak peak: afab!reader / riding / overstim / size kink / handjobs / multiple orgasms / top!reader / puppy love!lev / loss of virginity / begging / needy!lev / dacryphilia / + more

[daysincomplete]

I don't even go here much anymore but I need somewhere to throw my thoughts re: Emilie (Genshin Impact)

Yes, a lot of people have been upset or disappointed that she looks less interesting mostly in comparison to the many leaked concept arts of her, and I've definitely seen a couple colour/other edits on her which looked amazing. For me, the hair colour throws me off a bit and I have some Choice Words about her top but the green of her dress is such a deeply satisfying shade of green that reminds me of velvet, and I enjoy how her outfit, alongside Neuvilette's description and other people's voicelines, paint what feels to be a deliberately curated picture of her.

While we can't know for sure what decisions were involved that resulted in them settling on the current official design, the perception on her is so unnecessarily dampened because of that potential "what could have been" that we weren't meant to see in the first place. If anything, looking at the variety of concept arts leaked, it's at least reassuring that the artists have that skill and freedom to depict a character in so many creative ways.

honestly I'm more interested in seeing how Emilie is as a character - most of other character's voicelines about her are in regards to her business than of her (with the exception of Chevreuse) and she's a "forensic cleaner"? ESPECIALLY since she's probably going to be involved with the Burning Artifact set???There are a lot more layers here I really wish to see more people explore here instead of, well, everything else going on. I'm sitting here imagining situations involving Emilie, Chiori and Chevreuse potentially on a case, or interactions between her and Lisa/Sucrose/Albedo as a chemist (and god forbid what happens when she's put together near the Pyro Folk)

I don't know if I'll pull for her (if I do, it'll be predominantly based on her kit) but I like seeing how artists depict a character once their design is drip marketed on Twitter and it's a bit annoying seeing that the media tab there is just predominantly people talking about the concept art instead

[herdivineama]

ㅤ        ㅤ             ⠀✣ ⠀۪⠀ ´ another night ⠘ ✫

pervert! yandere! jinx x model! love deprived! fem! reader ( ft. vi + caitlyn )

very self indulgent , regular-ish jinx ( she would be a perfect yandere ) , topside! reader , model! reader , nsfw + sfw-ish , mentions of killing / bombing people , overprotective! stalker! jinx , mini series , self aware-ish! reader , mentions of stolen belongings , reader described to be obsessed with pastels ( pink & blue ) , reader being friends w vi + caitlyn , jealous!/possessive! jinx , pervert! jinx , mentions of manipulation , kidnapping , wlw ( duh )

i — ii — iii

not proofread

s.masterlist ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა navigation ૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა masterlist

You don’t even feel annoyed anymore; just amused and kinda impressed. it’s every hour now that something is rather misplaced than missing; like they are living in the exact same pink and blue striped room with you.

the clock reads 2:32AM, and you heard a faint sound of movement and a low grunt, you sat up, curling up into a ball in the center of your bed. everything is silent now. the pitch black darkness, small light lights only glow from the hanging dim fairy lights.

you’re not sure what to do at this point, but you are heavily opposed to calling vi or caitlyn or the enforcers. all of them will end terribly, caitlyn plus enforcers is double work with vi in there, is just annoying and you don’t want the press involved in your life and cameras everywhere. so your only option?

cleaning out your bedroom at two in the morning because…last night motivation, they say. getting up out of bed, your body weak and lazy, you could have swore you felt a hand brushing against your ankle, you stumbled forward and looks down, hoping you’re wrong and walked away from your bed and turned on the lamps and starting to rearrange all of your clothes, emptying the closet, drawers and storage bins, hanging rack.

‘my goodness she has so much clothes.’ was jinx’s first thought as she watches the amount of piles of clothes that surrounding you and flooding the floor. pile after pile after pile, i guess that’s the perk of being a famous model. she desperately needed to leave underneath the bed though. but you wouldn’t have woken up and decided to get out— no!…this is her fault. she should have left earlier, this is her problem. now she has to wait until you leave the room.

minutes went by, and jinx has noted that you talk to yourself a lot, like a lot. you note down everything you do and talk to yourself fake audience and “the little whispers” you like to call them. maybe you’re just like her. you announced you are going to get something to drink, debating on water or wine as you got up from the multiple piles of folded clothes, now she got a chance, swiftly sneaking from underneath the bed into your bathroom.

well you saw that. the long blue braids, the hot pink eyes with the same streak you saw in the cameras, jinx; the most wanted criminal in piltover and zaun’s wildcard, jinx, is in your home, underneath your bed; just snuck off into your bathroom. you couldn’t tell at this point if she was walking to your bathroom or running but—you caught a perfect slow-mo move of her face. and…she’s really pretty. yes! you sound crazy right now…but you honestly couldn’t tell what’s going on anymore or why she was even here? is she to cause of your stolen belongings?

you were utterly confused on what to do anymore, report her get the entire piltover’s eyes in your business or keep it low and accommodate to her living with you? decisions, decisions, you were never good at those.

everyone else would think you’re stupid—psychopath even but…you decided to go with it. patiently waiting for jinx to return back underneath the bed keep her trapped and confront her in the bathroom? maybe another time. swiftly you heard the bathroom door open and jinx slipped right back underneath the bed. you poured another glass of wine and walked back into the bedroom, trying your best to keep your eyes pry off the bed and going back to cleaning.

this is going to be interesting indeed.

©︎ A M A T E R A S U. all rights reserved. please don't plazarize, copy, or steal any of my works without my permission, thank you !

this shit was so ass, i hate it but i didn’t know how to properly word this without it sounding complex or too boring. lord wtv, now im debating if ep3 should continue from ur pov or jinx’s pov ughhhhh and i got school tomorrow!

[pomefioredove]

housewardens + Jamil and Floyd with a reader that plays volleyball please

I think of reader as yuu, but it's not needed to be specified, and NRC doesn't really have volleyball as one of the sports that I know of. so whether it's not a thing in their world or just not at their school, I think it'd be cool to see how the characters react to the reader playing during gym, free time, or for some outside of school club or whatever. it'd be amazing if reader could be a libero, because that's my position, but it doesn't have to be specified

but like, js imagine reader is yuu and so they taught one of the students how to play bc it's not at NRC amd now they play literally whenever they can

I don't know anything about volleyball but I tried 🫡🫡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ volleyball player reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, floyd, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

am I crazy to think that Riddle would be into it? seeing as he's somewhat of an athlete himself (equestrian club), he knows the sort of discipline and dedication it takes to truly master a sport

he'll offer to help you organize an ~official~ club, but you don't seem too bothered about it. he finds it endearing that you can wake up in an entirely different world, almost die every other month, and still have the motivation to pursue what you love, anyway

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you'd better be careful around Leona, or you'll end up at morning Spelldrive practice in his place (hehe)

so, you don't have any magic. and? you know how to throw and catch, and that's good enough for him. hell, you're better than most of the magical first years. plus, you're motivated, you're responsible, and Leona Savanaclaw could use someone like you around

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

when Azul sent the tweels to dig up some dirt on you, he wasn't expecting this. like, okay, he underestimated you. he was hoping for something more... exploitable. if only he had a use for volleyball...

oh, well. you're still worth watching, currently useful or not. athletic skill is nothing to sneeze at, especially from a native land-dweller. he might need those legs of yours someday, you know

...wait, that came out wrong

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no one really bothers looking for Floyd when he doesn't show up to basketball club. not because they don't care, but because it's not worth the time. if he really doesn't want to be found, you just won't find him

of course, the one day Jamil has to leave club early, he walks in on the two of you in the courtyard, playing volleyball

all this time, Floyd had been skipping club to watch you play another ball game just a few minutes away. he's absolutely captivated, too. like a cat with a laser pointer

as unamused as he is, Jamil knows it's absolutely useless to lecture him, so he just... sits and watches you play, too

and, well... he gets it. you're an interesting person, you know?

after that, he figures you may as well join the basketball club

...if only to give you a better place to practice, and to keep Floyd indoors

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

bro if you asked, Kalim would have an entire court built for you. actually, you wouldn't even have to ask. just one mention about how NRC has no volleyball club, and he'd have a team just for you by noon

if you refuse, he's still supportive. and really, really fascinated. he's not as much of an athlete as you or Jamil, which just makes it all the more impressive to him. he'll ask you to explain the game and your position over and over again, even while watching you play

he also just likes hearing your voice, so :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if there's anything Vil can admire, it's dedication. another thing? passion. being an athlete, or, really, having any serious hobby, demands both of those things

here's the thing; he could already tell. he didn't have to stumble across you during practice (as if he would stumble at all smh). your form, the way you carry yourself, even parts of your personality were context enough

and while he may not say it, he holds a high opinion of you. you can legit get out of VDC training by just saying you're going to practice

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you may think that Idia isn't going to go for the jock type, but, actually, one of his favorite animes is about volleyball and-

yeah, yeah. you get it. he's smitten

if he ever gets over his crushing fear of talking to you, you'll never get him to shut up. seriously. he already knows everything there is to know about the game, but that doesn't mean he's not going to ask you to explain everything all over again (he's totally fangirling over this). and sevens forbid you give him a demonstration...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

there's probably not volleyball in Briar Valley. right. I just can't picture that. so the first time Malleus observes you in practice, he's amazed, fascinated even. and he has a lot of questions. good ones!

you could probably convince him to play with you, which would be, uh. interesting? actually he's weirdly an amazing player

you could get all of Diasomnia to form a team, somehow. like I know they'd be abnormally good at it

[bethanydelleman]

I saw a post you reblogged at some point about Fanny being stuck in a time loop and it got me thinking: if the main men (both protagonists and antagonists) of the different Austen novels time travelled back to the day they first met their love interest/the start of the novel - whichever is latest so wentworth, knightley, and Edmund Bertram would travel to the day the main events of their novels start - who do you think would end up changing the least of the events and the most (intentionally or not)?

Because I feel like Knightley would change the least and Henry Tilney and the three S&S gents would come next. But like Wentworth would immediately throw the entire novel off track and like Darcy and Henry Crawford would come in close second trying to change their truly awful first impressions

(Also I just want to add that I really love your Austen takes and discussions 😊)

Thank you!

This is a fascinating idea. Here are my thoughts:

Wentworth just marches into Uppercross Cottage and proposes again. Doesn't even wait to be properly introduced to the family. He's getting Anne back NOW. (She says yes, of course)

I can imagine Darcy having a tiny little crisis as he decides if he really wants to be married to Elizabeth, maybe he could just not accompany Bingley to Netherfield and his life could go the way he planned... nah, he can't resist. Off to Netherfield he goes and he lets Bingley introduce him to Elizabeth at the assembly ball. Things progress unimpeded and by Christmas there is a double wedding and Wickham's character is known throughout Hertfordshire. He skips town and Lydia is packed off to Pemberley to benefit from some better society. (Side note: Mrs. Bennet would push Mr. Collins on Mary if she had any inclination that Darcy liked Elizabeth).

If Bingley knew everything, he'd never leave Jane. He'd return from London and marry her, no matter what Darcy or his sisters said. (I wrote that once actually)

Does Wickham count as a main? Because I don't want him having the ability to predict the future. Yikes on bikes!

Henry Crawford is very interesting, because does he actually understand where he went wrong? I'm not sure he does. Can he resist a flirtation with two very pretty sisters? That would be a fun fan fiction to write. Because if he went for Fanny right off the bat and she knew nothing else about him... he'd probably succeed with her, secret Edmund love or not. And she certainly wouldn't have a leg to stand on in refusing his proposal.

Does Edmund come back in the same timeline as Henry? That would be so agnsty! If not, he'd probably be doing whatever he could to keep Maria and Henry apart, but he's shockingly ineffective in canon, so would he even be able to change anything?

Henry Tilney would probably just try to prevent Catherine being sent home alone. He could easily come back early.

Mr. Knightley's best move would be to tell Robert Martin to propose in person. I doubt Harriet could have resisted. Then he could just sit back and watch everything else play out.

Honestly, I don't know if Frank Churchill would change a thing, other than making sure his final letter was posted to Jane. He enjoyed the subterfuge.

Poor Edward Ferrars has to travel back while engaged to Lucy? I feel like he wouldn't even want to relive the novel, there is nothing he can do anyway.

Colonel Brandon would probably change a lot. He could immediately save Eliza and challenge Willoughby. He might even spare Marianne from a lot of pain.

Reginald de Courcy (Lady Susan) would likely act as well and save Frederica earlier than in the novel.

[betraumatizebaby]

I Signed Up for a Quest Not a Wedding Registry! AU part seven

Previous = Next

Tw: Implied S.A and forced pregnancy.

Odysseus rested his head on Penelope’s lap, his body sinking into the comfort of her presence. Odysseus close his eyes and smile as he felt her finger run though his hair. The world beyond them faded; for once, he allowed himself to forget everything—everything but her touch. Only forcing on her. Suddenly, "He did something to you."

Odysseus’s eyes snapped open as he look up at his wife, there was something was wrong. Her eyes—once familiar and alive—had turned pitch black, hollow as the void.

"What?" His voice cracked, his confusion raw. Clearly doesn't understand what Penelope saying. "None of this is real." Penelope murmured, her face beginning to dissolve like wax under flame.

Odysseus scrambled to his feet as his surroundings twisted and decayed into a grotesque corruption of reality. Covering his ears, he dropped to his knees, as overwhelmed by a cacophony of voices invading his mind:

“None of this is real.” “You are not home.” “He did something to you.” “Please wake up.” “There is something inside—”

---

He jolted awake, gasping, his body drenched in sweat. Scrambling for the bucket by his bedside and vomit. Another nightmare. Odysseus wiped his mouth. His stomach churned as he tried to steady himself.

Was this normal? Had Apollo or Artemis cursed him with their arrows? Could a god even fall ill? His eyes drifted to the marks scattered across his skin—purple bruises and faint impressions of teeth. The sight churned his stomach anew. The sight sent a wave of nausea through him. He felt sick. Not just sick. Wrong. He wasn’t just sick; he felt… violated.

Odysseus tried to make sense of the dream. He did something to you. What did he do? Or, more accurately, what didn’t he do? The sickness didn’t fade, and an unsettling craving gnawed at him—fruits of all kinds, though none were available here. He supposed it was natural, given that his diet had consisted entirely of seafood. Well, not always, but it might as well have been.

Maybe he could ask him for some—no! He slapped himself lightly, shaking his head. No, he wouldn’t indulge this ridiculous urge. No matter how unbearable it felt (and it was unbearable). Curling into a ball, he gritted his teeth as the ache in his stomach intensified. He pressed a trembling hand against his abdomen, his breath shallow.

There was something growing inside him.

Fix the grammer and try to replace overused word:

Mpreg canon!? Well, not quite yet. I always planning on making one of them pregnant I’ve always considered making one of the characters pregnant since I’ve never written a story about someone experiencing pregnancy—let alone someone struggling through it. Odysseus seems like the ideal candidate, not only because he blinded Poseidon's son, but also because it doesn’t feel as fitting for the others (though that doesn’t rule out the possibility entirely).

Even though this AU started as a lighthearted "haha, the crew becomes gods" AU, I want to address sensitive topics, like S/A, with care and respect. My main priority is to ensure that these themes are handled thoughtfully and don’t cause discomfort or make anyone, especially survivors, feel invalidated—despite my tendency to make jokes about darker subjects.

Anyway. This is my first attempt at a mini-fic in this AU, so please, I would love to hear your ideas, opinions, and criticism for this AU!

[saltyyuuri]

🖋️Writers Block 🖋️

Iso x fem! Reader

Part 1

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5 - PART 6 - PART 7

Words; 6400

Warnings; mentions of NSFW and vulgar language . This will be copy pasted on every chapter.

Authors note: ... I know I just said I have no mental capacity to write. And that I had a writer's block. Well guess what- my God damn idea is really a goddamn writer's block. Enjoy 😭. ALSO I HAD TO BALL PARK AGE TIME LINE SO PLS GO WITH IT TY ILY

ps2- this fic is roughly 32k words total- i think i have a problem. I wrote this is 2 days. k bai-

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"Okay everyone; this is my niece (Y/n), she's going to be staying with us for some time." Brimstone announced a bit absently, his mind was on something else completely. He had some paperwork to finish up but he still wanted to take a small moment to introduce you to the agents. "She's not a radiant or an agent, so don't mess around her too much. She just needs inspiration." Brimstone said before heading off- of course his lack of details on your mysterious arrival was going to leave everyone puzzled-and also going to leave you to explain it all.

It's not like you really have the time anyways to tell him he could have been a bit more precise- he was already gone the moment you were going to open your mouth. Your gaze turned to look over the group of young adults in front of you-all agents looking very confused your way. The barrage of questions didn't take much time before happening.

"Wait Brimstone has a niece?" "Inspiration? For what?" "Why is your face mildly familiar-?" "How long are you going to stay?" All the questions were coming in faster than gunfire-making you a bit dizzy on the spot. You were trying to keep track of all the questions and trying to see which one would be best to answer first- and you didn't even get a second to introduce yourself before a blue and yellow haired girl, who looked way too hyper, yelled out.

"OH GOD WAIT I KNOW WHO SHE IS-!!!" The woman yelled out pretty loudly. The other agents effectively shut up with their questions but also flinched at the sheer volume of her voice. "Neon, jeez, tone it down a bit-" A white haired girl said, a small grimace on her face as she spoke. Neon, the bi colored hair woman, smiled sheepishly before sprinting towards you.

You jumped a bit; not expecting the speed at which she was coming. You were still pretty new to all the radiants - so seeing powers in action was still strange to you. "Your the author of the book series 'That night in Tokyo ', right??" She asked excitedly, just wanted to confirm for suspicions. "Yeah, that's me-" you said a bit sheepishly-definitely not expecting someone to even recognize you to begin with.

The women in the room all collectively had a moment of realization- a look of complicity seeming to take over. And of course; the guys just look confused. "Oh damn- Brimstone's niece is the one who wrote that?" Jett said with an impressed look-but also a slightly mischievous one.

"If I'm being honest with you-I don't think he ever read one of my books." You giggle out - you caught on to that look of complicity that was starting to form, knowing damn well what was going to go on. "I don't think he would have said it so casually that you were here for inspiration if he did-" A woman with a Spanish accent and half pink hair spoke up, a smirk on her face.

And she wasn't wrong; it was obvious that Brimstone had never opened one of your books or at least read one entirely- because if there's one thing to know about the stuff you write, is that no matter if it's a one shot book or a series; there will always be erotic scenes. You weren't ashamed of it- actually that's how you got your fan base. There was always something steamy going on; but not constantly throughout the story- you didn't want it to look like Fifty shades of Gray either.

It was just mixing your creativity for writing stories no matter if it was fantastical, romantic, a police like series or even a horror book- you would find a way. And anyone who read your books knew it was going to happen - at this point it was almost your trademark.

Of course, the men in the room just looked very confused- no one knew who you were. It was a funny scene; looks of confusion all over every guy's face- and looks of complicity on every woman's face.

"So ... Wait, you're here for inspiration?" Neon said- her face shifting slightly to a slightly smug look. "Yeah; I got a bit of a writer's block recently. I just figured that if I went in a new environments, I'd get a few ideas. My uncle Liam- er- Brimstone - said I could stay over for some time." You briefly explain, chuckling slightly.

"Oh boy- you know, now I am curious to know how this goes." The Latina spoke up once again, a smirk on her face. Pretty much every woman in the room nodded their heads, once again that look of complicity going around. That was until one of the guys decided to speak up- a man with caramel colored hair wearing a suit and glasses.

"Well, chérie, if it's inspiration you're looking for, look no further~" He said smugly, smirking as he spoke. There was a short silence in the room before pretty much every woman started laughing, you included. The man looked confused, wondering what had everyone laughing so much, maybe a missed joke he didn't catch on to? "What's so funny-?" He asked, trying to read the room and understand what's going on.

The white haired woman, still snickering, spoke up to answer. "Well- you're... You're probably not quite the type of inspiration she's looking for, quite frankly." She snickered out, grinning widely. "Well, unless she writes something corny- never know!" Neon said, laughing a bit harder. You giggled along, shaking your head. "Oh god no- I learned my lesson pretty fast not to write corny stuff. The Press didn't like it-" you said with a giggle, remembering what had happened last time you decided to write something a bit corny. Your fans definitely made their voices heard not to do that again-

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You got set up in your dorm pretty rapidly, it was a small cozy thing; and your uncle had been nice enough to get you a good desk setup so you'd be comfortable when writing. You had asked him for a double monitor setup and specifically an adjustable desk- plenty of little details you want too sure if he would be okay with, knowing that you were probably demanding a bit too much.

But you were pleasantly surprised to see that everything you asked for was done. You made sure to thank him properly, promising to take him out for dinner, all expenses paid by you as a thank you.

You quickly set up your laptop, already trying to get comfortable and ready to start typing- but once again the writers block persisted. You had no idea what even to start with, not even a brief idea for a story. You had an Excel spreadsheet open, that's usually how you kept track of your story, the timelines, any advancements on certain chapters, the amounts of words written already etc.

It felt odd to not have anything come to mind, you just needed an idea- you could go so far off of a small idea. But nothing.

You had already been introduced to pretty much everyone, a few exceptions considering that some agents were out on missions right now. But it was definitely nice to meet most of the women agents, knowing that most of them recognized you the moment someone mentioned one of your books. It also seemed to become a slight game in headquarters- where the title of some of your books gets mentioned but no one mentions what's it about. The guys just look very confused while the women understood it.

You decided to head to bed for the time being, hoping sleep would help you come up with an idea or two. You have been to bed and snuggled in the comfortable bed sheets- falling asleep surprisingly quickly the moment your head hit the pillow.

The next day you woke up at the crack of dawn- deciding to go and walk around headquarters and get a bit more familiar with the place. You were given a brief tour, but nothing too in depth. So, you took it upon yourself to explore bit, deciding to bring along one of your notebooks and a pen, just in case an idea came through.

So there you were, walking around in jogging pants, a sports bra, hair up in a clip and wearing glasses, walking around protocol with a hardcover pink strawberry printed notebook and a pen clipped onto your sports bra. You were walking down Halls at random, just looking around with curiosity.

That was until you reached the practice range. Curiosity got the better of you and you pushed open the doors, peeking inside the part of the building. At first you saw nothing- and decided to just walk in. You looked around the multiple training rooms, one being set up like a gym, a few others looking like target practice for shooting ranges- and a few that looked empty but had some fancy consoles in front of them.

You never been in a place like this, so you naturally looked around quite a bit, curiosity getting the better of you once Again. You we're in the far back of the training facility when someone else came in, not hearing the door open or close while you were looking at some scrapped robots.

What did however make you flinch was someone speaking up behind you- you hadn't heard them approach either, so it caught you by surprise. You let out a small yelp, turning around almost instantly as they were speaking. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" Is what the man behind you said- a tall Asian man with jet black hair and lilac eyes spoke.

You took a short moment before speaking - not only needing a second to get over getting scared shitless all of a sudden, but also to get over his looks. He was definitely handsome - but you had to remind yourself you weren't here for sightseeing. "Oh- uh- sorry- we haven't been introduced yet- I'm (Y/n)" you spoke clumsily, looking for your words every few seconds.

Sure, you could blame it on the fact that I was early morning and you weren't too used to waking up this early- but that would be a bold-faced lie. The man looked at you curiously - but his face stayed neutral. "I see. I'm Iso." He replied pretty simply, his hands being shoved inside his hoodie pockets.

"So, are you like .... A new agent here?" He asked you as he tried to keep a conversation, and you were realizing since you haven't been introduced he doesn't quite know you yet. You felt a bit stupid for not being a little more precise on your introduction, letting out a small sheepish laugh.

"Oh! No- sorry, I'm still waking up so I'm a bit slow haha... But no I'm not an agent, I'm Liam- I mean- Brimstone's niece, I'm only here for a temporary stay." You briefly explained, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. "I'm a writer and I'm having a bit of a writer's block at the moment. I figured if I changed environments I might get an idea."

"No worries." Iso hummed out, nodding a bit as you spoke. "So an author looking for inspiration... In a base full of radiants that are constantly dealing with attacks and protecting this world's fate? That's... A choice." He said, slight amusement in his tone as he spoke, small smirk starting to form.

"Look, I already did quite a lot of different genres, I just needed something new. I really can't come up with an idea these past months, so... Doesn't hurt to try." You hummed out, smiling as you spoke, shrugging slightly. Iso nodded, once more letting out a small hum. Silence settled, and then he seemed to decide to move along with his day.

He simply sidestepped you, heading to one of the training rooms that looked empty but had that fancy console in the front. He tapped a few times on the console before walking in, taking a small gun out from its holster under his hoodie. It seemed to be a custom-made, it was purple, red and black, the purple parts almost looking like they were glowing.

You decided to walk over to the glass, wanting to see what goes on in there, once more curiosity getting the best of you. The was was that suddenly appeared, making you flinch at the loud noise. Then, robots of various sizes that also seem to have guns we're starting to rush through the maze of metal walls, Iso seeming to keep a rather unfazed look on his face.

He moved swiftly, avoiding most of the robots, holding his pistol at the ready. Whenever he got a clear shot he took it without hesitation- and you watched as one by one the robots dropped to the ground. He seemed to do some fancy thing with his hand before a purple shattered light left his hand and touched a few robots. He swung the corner, shooting rapidly and watching us these robots dropped with only a bullet.

You were in awe, you had never seen radiant powers in action before- you were leaning forward and looking for the bulletproof glass with a lot more interest now. What seemed like a habit for him was all new to you, and it had you captivated. You probably watched him train for 15 minutes, both impressed by his powers and impressed by his aim.

That was until a few more people entered the practice range building, most that you recognize. They thought it was a bit funny to see you so awestruck by simple radiant abilities - but not holding it against you considering you never were exposed to this type of world before. A few agents taunted you to come and watch them, and you couldn't resist. Seeing so much powers all at once was an experience - as all the things you saw in this training range were only things you thought happened in cinema.

It amused the agents, but they could also understand your reality that to you- a regular citizen- this type of thing wasn't a regular occurrence. Even the non radiant agents, just seeing what they could do and the technologies they had, once again that was only things you assumed would happen in cinema. You ended up spending the day in the practice range just observing everyone, looking like a child with stars in their eyes.

When most of the agents were pretty much done with their trainings, some would come by and tease you a bit once again- notably Harbor, the agent who seem to have control over water. He had decided to splash you slightly, sending a spritz of water on to you. You ended up tossing your notebook so it wouldn't get wet- and he kind of realized his error afterwards.

Jett was the first to swoop in as Harbor apologized- grabbing your notebook for you and giving him a smack behind the head while shooing him off. "What a dick- I swear he does that as a joke every damn time." Jet said, shaking her head as she raised her hand, creating a small gust of wind, nothing too strong- just strong enough to help you dry off of it. Even though you weren't too happy about getting wet-the situation just felt out of ordinary if not out of this world, so you weren't mad either.

"If I was an agent I probably would have been pissed- but everything about this is just so. .. wow." You said, looking once more in awe at the powers on display. Jett chuckled, smiling widely. "Understandable - you're pretty new to all of this. Trust me- what you see here is nothing. If you would see this shit we do on the field- it's so much cooler." She said a bit smugly. "Buuut... You can't really come on the field anyways. You'd probably be shot dead within seconds-" she giggled out softly, lowering her hand to cut off the gust of wind she was blowing your way.

You were practically almost dry already, taking back your notebook from her and tucking it back between your arm and hip. "Yeah, most likely. I never touched a firearm in my life-hell I don't even think I could defend myself even with a knife." You hummed out softly, smiling as you spoke.

"You never shot a gun?" Jett repeated, looking surprised. "You literally wrote scenes with so much precise descriptions on shooting a gun- ... Wait, were you never curious to even try?" She continued, her head tilting a bit to the side. "The joys of internet, you can find people giving the most accurate descriptions so that you don't have to figure it out yourself." You giggled out softly.

"Makes sense." Jett responded, a look of understanding on her face while she shrugged. "Well- do you want to try? You are in one of the best places to try it out if you do want to-" she said with a growing smirk. "I don't know if my uncle would be okay with that-" you started off; soon to be interrupted by the man in question.

Brimstone had just walked into the practice range himself, and the moment he overheard the word 'uncle', almost as if it was a spider sense, he was making his way over. "What would your uncle not be okay with?" He asked sternly as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking over you and Jett with a stern expression.

"Can (Y/n) try shooting a gun?" Jett asked, seeming completely unfazed by the stern look he had. Your eyes widened a bit- you didn't necessarily ask to try either, and you didn't want to get in trouble for being insinuated that you were. Before you could even argument back, Brimstone let out a small laugh. "Sure, but not with you, Jett. We all know you give little to no explanation on gun security when you're in charge."

You didn't expect him to say yes this easily- though Jett was pouting for being a bit called out. "I can make an effort-?" She tried once again, though her attempt was a bit sheepish. "Nope, last time you said that, Phoenix nearly shot himself in the head because you didn't tell him how to put the security on the gun." Brimstone said, shaking his head once again. You shuddered a bit at the thought-a bit shocked at how casual he was when talking about it.

"It was one time-... You okay there?" Jett cut herself off from her weak argument, seeing that you looked a bit pale. "... How are you guys so casual when talking about someone who nearly shot themselves-" you uttered out, baffled as you spoke. The two of them looked at each other, a short moment of realization once again hitting them- of course the type of conversation looked insane to you, once again you weren't from the same world that they were living in- your own reality just consisting of living normally.

"Oh, sweetheart - it's a normal occurrence here-" Brimstone started off a bit roughly. "But- don't worry too much. We have healers, and one of them can resurrect the dead. It's fine." Brimstone said casually, waving his hand around a bit. "Say fucking what now-" you instantly retorted back- once again looking absolutely baffled at the news.

It was at this moment that the two realized that you would need a lot of getting used to when staying here- Brimstone and Jett sharing a look for a short moment. "Anyways... Let's get back to the radiant powers later-" Jett said, trying to change the subject back to the previous one. "So- shooting guns? Whatcha say, (Y/n)?" Jett asked again, making finger guns your way as she tried to get your mind off the radiant powers for a moment.

"Uh... Sure- yeah.." you replied in a slightly baffled voice, only halfway paying attention to what she said. Brimstone chuckled, then quickly checked around to see who was still around the practice range, seeing if somebody who he trusted was going to be capable enough to explain how a gun worked was still around.

He spotted Iso, who was still in the simulation room doing his training. Even though he was a bit unimpressed by the fact that Iso had been training relentlessly all day once more- he was some with glad that he was still here. Brimstone made his way to the simulation room, pressing the button to stop it. Of course, Iso instantly looked up confused, wondering who cut off his training and why.

Iso made his way out of the room, opening the door slightly, peeking his head out. He was pretty sweaty from the relentless training- but that was just the type of thing he did quite often. "Is there something wrong?" Iso asked Brimstone, catching his breath as he spoke. "Other than you still not learning to take a damn break- no. Just wanted to know if you'd show (Y/n) how to shoot a gun."

Iso paused for a short moment, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with his sleeve. "Yeah, I can show her. But I thought she wasn't an agent?" He said- putting away his Sheriff into the gun holster around his waist. "She isn't, she just never shot a gun in her life. Its more out of curiosity than actual training. I just don't trust Jett to show her- and I'd rather not have my niece traumatized on day one." Brimstone Snickered out, a grin forming on his face.

"Makes sense." Iso hummed, finally walking out of the simulation room. He grabbed onto the water bottle he left just outside the door, taking a few large sips. "Great, thanks. Just- do us all a favor and don't talk about radiant powers yet. She's still trying to understand that Sage can resurrect people, and she's just looking at Jett like she's crazy." Brimstone said with a snicker once again, but this time he walked off to his own training room.

Iso nodded, looking up at confused but not questioning further. He took another short moment to catch his breath before making his way towards you and Jett. Jett was talking pretty animatedly beside you while you still look a bit pale, but nodded along to what she was saying. Iso cleared his throat, catching both of your attentions.

"Ah damn it, of course you're the favorite child. Fine - I see how it is- the pretty boy gets the rights to teaching." Jett mocked him lightly, all in good fun of course. Iso rolled his eyes at her, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "I was the only one still available, mind you." He said, his tone casual. Jett snickered out Softly, then gave you a pat on the shoulder to encourage you.

"You'll be in good hands- Iso is one of our best shots on the team! But to be fair he was an ex assassin - so he had to be a good shot whether he liked it or not-" Jett casually dropped once again, as if this was just regular common knowledge to have. You choked on air- "fucking what-" you mumbled out through your coughing, Jett once again realizing that maybe she spoke a bit too fast.

Iso facepalmed, giving Jett a half glare before waving her off, wanting her out of his hair before she started saying more stuff that would catch you off guard. You looked back up at him, this time with a slight unease. It wasn't personal- but considering you were still new to everything, to their reality where this type of thing was just normal- it made you just slightly uncomfortable.

And Iso took notice pretty fast. "I-... Look, it was an old job-" he started off up at awkwardly, but then realizing trying to explain it was pretty futile. He let out a sigh- she would just have to wait for you to get used to this a bit more, whether he likes it or not. "Just... Just follow me." He mumbled out, starting to walk towards one of the target practice ranges.

You reluctantly followed- stunned into silence. You were realizing just how much seem to be going on in their reality- just how different your lives were. You were definitely going to need a minute after all of this to collect your thoughts- but for now you just followed along. He stopped at a certain range that seemed free- opening a heavy metal cupboard that was at the entrance.

There was multiple different types of guns hanging inside the cupboard, ranging from pistols all the way to heavy snipers and machine guns. You've never seen this many guns all at once, even less had the choice to even touch one. You didn't know if he was trying to offer you quietly a choice or if he was going to pick one for you.

Iso took the hint- deciding to just start off with a pistol. He figured it would be best just to give you something small to begin with. He handed you a ghost, one of the smaller pistols that was easier to control and didn't have any knockback. "Here, we'll start small." He said, handing you the gun. He showed you the proper way to hold it and to make sure the security was on- then invited you to go inside the practice range. He walked in behind you, shutting the bulletproof door.

"Alright, since this is your first time shooting, I'm just going to show you how to properly hold and aim the gun." He briefly explained, walking up beside you. He was nearly in front of you, just correcting your posture quietly, readjusting your grip on the gun and how your arms were up, using one of his feet to gently kick yours to spread your legs up a bit more. Then he finished off by adjusting your shoulders a bit- taking a step back to make sure he didn't miss anything.

"... Looks good to me. Take the security off when you're ready and fire away." He said, stepping back to be behind you this time. You nodded, pressing on the side button that deactivated the security on the gun. When you heard the click-you know the moment you pulled the trigger a bullet would actually fly through. You had a sudden Rush of an adrenaline, not sure if you should actually pull the trigger or not.

Your hands were a bit sweaty and you tried not to get shaky- then let some excitement through and pull the trigger. Since the ghost had a silencer on it, it didn't resonate as loudly as you expected- but you still flinched. The gun still had a small knockback in your hands that you didn't quite expect, taking a moment to get over the small adrenaline rush. You fumbled a bit, since your hands were a bit sweaty the gun had slipped when you flinched, and you were trying to hold it back up properly.

Iso came up to you once again, this time staying behind you since the security was off. He simply wrapped his arms around you to fix your posture once again- making you tense up slightly. He didn't say a word as he did so, only taking a step back once you were back in the correct position. "There you go." He hummed out, going back to lean against the wall behind him.

You took a few more shots with the gun, the first few just aiming wherever as you got used to the weapon, then you actually tried aiming at the targets- but of course not being that good at it. You ended up emptying a whole mag, only realizing once you pulled the trigger again and there was just a simple click. You lowered the gun, still feeling some adrenaline from it, you instinctively put the security back on even if the mags are empty.

"Good reflex." Iso noted, his head nodding towards the gun. He didn't even need to tell you to keep the gun pointed to the ground if you weren't aiming it or to put the security back on once you were done- a smile on his face as he was proud you just did it without asking. "Thanks- I mean I read a lot about shooting again before- so I already had a brief idea of gun security-" you rambled on a bit, forcing yourself to bite your tongue at some point to not look like an idiot.

"... That's definitely an interesting thing to read about-" Iso said amusedly as he took the gun back, a small smile still on his face. You realize that just dropping that information casually probably sounded a bit weird- immediately trying to backtrack. "I wrote scenes where there was usage of guns- I just wanted to write something exact without looking like an idiot-" you muttered out - once again biting your tongue. But this time not because you didn't want to ramble on about gun security-more like you didn't want to ramble on about the other stuff you wrote.

Because you may or may not have taken extra time to read about gun security for... Other reasons than shooting. But you were definitely not going to rat yourself out like that. Iso didn't seem to question it further, just looking amused. He brought the ghost back to the cupboard, looking like he was taking a moment to ponder before pulling out a different gun. This time it was a bit bigger-walking back in the room with it.

"This is a specter, its an SMG with low penetration, it also has a silencer and-" He started to say, then taking a short moment to pause. He realized that getting too technical with guns would probably serve no purpose, considering you weren't actually training. He instead decided to be more vague. "It's an automatic gun, it shoots fast. It does not that much knockback, but you're still going to want to hold it tightly against your shoulder."

You nodded, and he once again place the gun properly in your hands. He took the time to correct how you held it to make sure that you wouldn't have any issues- pressing it comfortably on your shoulder and once again just kicking your feet slightly to be positioned correctly. "... There. Now remember, hold the gun firmly on your shoulder. If it's not firm enough, the knock back is just going to hurt." He said, once again stepping back to lean on the wall behind you.

You were nervous once again, not that you had a bit of a bigger gun in your hands, you weren't too sure how to feel about it. But once again curiosity got the better of you, taking off the security and deciding to pull the trigger. You weren't expecting much- and the gun immediately went upward with the few bullets you shot. "Woah-" you let out surprised, taking your finger off the trigger instantly to reposition.

"Automatic guns do tend to do that, just try to expect it- and shoot a few bullets at a time, not all at once." He instructed behind you-arms crossed in front of his chest as he patiently explained it to you. You were thankful that he was being so patient-taking one step at a time. You nod and try again, trying to take his advice. It was easier said than done- you had no experience controlling this type of gun, and no matter how hard you try, you ended up emptying the mag while shooting generally above the targets the whole time.

Once more, you put the security on the gun while pointing it out the floor when you were done, handing it back. "Yikes- gun shooting definitely isn't for me. I'll stick to typing-" you said a bit sheepishly, hands still sweaty from the adrenaline of getting to shoot a weapon. Iso chuckled out softly, taking back the gun as he led you out of the target room.

He went to put it back away, securing it in the cupboard before shutting it, putting the lock back on. "Understandable. Don't worry about it too much, you're just trying it out anyways." Iso chuckled out softly, turning back to look at you. You were picking up your notebook, tucking it back in its spot between your hip and arm.

"When did you start using firearms?" You ended up asking curiously, looking back up at him. He paused for a brief moment, looking like he was thinking about it. "Hmm... Like since I was... 16?" He said, not sounding fully sure with his answer, looking like he was trying to recall exactly.

You try not to choke once again- surprised to know that he was handling firearms before being an adult. "Oh-... And how old are you now-?" You asked again, trying to give yourself a brief idea of his experience. "I'm 24." He replied, this time confidently. You we're trying to give yourself a brief idea of his life- considering the tidbit of information that was given to you earlier.

You got a bit lost in thought, and Iso quietly observed you for a few moments. He could see the gears turning in your head, at first just letting you trying to figure it out on your own, then deciding to speak up. "You can just ask, you know. I don't have much to hide." He said, a small smirk on his face as he spoke nonchalantly.

You flinched slightly in Surprise, your free arm going up to your neck to rub it sheepishly. "Oh- uh- ... Well then- ... How long were you a... Well- hitman?" You asked awkwardly, once more trying to not sound too weird when talking about it. This was all still new to you and you were trying to wrap your head around it without sounding disrespectful in any way.

" About 5 years. Started at 17, finished at 23." He said, nodding along as he spoke. You gave a slow nod, almost as if realization of his reality was slowly sinking in. 5 years where his job was to ruthlessly kill people? And yet he looked so nice- it just didn't want to register in your head. You once again quieted down- this time not staring his way to not look like you were oogling over him uncomfortably.

Iso once more broke the silence. "You know that pretty much everyone here has killed for a living before- or has to kill for a living now? Like the whole point of valorant protocol is to constantly fight-which inevitably means killing people." He said, cocking an eyebrow as he spoke in amusement, watching as you had a moment of realization.

You gave another slow nod, observing the information as you could. "Yeah... I'm realizing that now." You mumbled out with another slow nod. He chuckled out softly, amused to see you in this state. "Well, if you're going to be staying for a while, may as well get used to it." He said, smirking as he spoke.

"Well... On the bright side- can't have a better place to ask about realistic ways to write certain deaths-" You said, trying to lighten your mood by joking around a bit- letting out a small laugh as you spoke. Iso chuckled along, nodding with his smirk. "True. If you need ideas, you can ask. Or ask anyone- you'd be surprised the amount of people who've been assassins here." He said nonchalantly, shrugging. You simply nodded, trying to brush off the fact that there was more than just one Hitman in the group.

"What do you usually write about anyways? Would it be like police novels?" Iso asked, taking a small guess on what you could be writing-considering you talked about ways to kill people and gun security, he assumed you wrote police novels. Or at least, something in the lines of that considering it was what made more sense.

You didn't want to rat yourself out of course- and since you did technically write police novels (of course with your well know erotic twist in the novels), you just nodded. "Yeah, I wrote some police novels... I do a couple of different genres." You said, staying vague. Thankfully you didn't need to find a lame excuse to escape this conversation- your stomach loudly growled just after you spoke, reminding you you haven't eaten anything today.

"fuck- I'm sorry, I think I'll just head out to eat. I just realized I've been here all day- it's just now hitting me." You said, one of your hands instinctively going to your stomach as you could already feel a small cramp starting to form. Iso nodded in understanding, giving you a small wave. "No worries, go eat." He simply said, watching as you bid goodbye and left.

🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️🖋️

Back in your dorm, you ate something small and light, not much in the mood to have a heavy meal considering you didn't have anything else to eat all day. You ate a chicken salad, sitting on your bed with your open notebook, taking small notes. You didn't have an exact idea yet, but still, you thought it was interesting the things you heard about today, and you were noting it all down in hopes that maybe it could be used in your new book.

You continue taking notes until pretty late at night, just letting your mind go Haywire on the paper as you wrote-both taking note of all the things that Iso had said, keeping things in a reference from when you shot the guns, even noting some of the powers that you've got to witness by just observing the agents train today. All of it- you just took notes and hoped that at some point you'd have an idea.

When you looked up again you saw that it was 2 in the morning, forcing yourself to shut the notebook before taking a quick shower- getting through with your night time routine and then heading to bed. You ended up falling asleep around 3 am after all of that; meaning you were knocked out until pretty late in the morning the next day.

[swallowedbyfandom]

Portia had always assumed Penelope to be just like her father but clearly she is wrong. Her youngest clearly has inherited more of her cunning than Portia had ever dreamed. She had thought her too innocent and clearly corrupted by the Bridgerton ideals of "goodness" to understand that manipulation is the most valuable skill a Lady needs to survive society and marriage.

She had believed her daughter too fanciful and romantic to make a proper match. She understands now that her Penelope is in fact a vicious creature, she is also incredibly skilled and subtle. The kind of skilled that comes with practice and time. It was remarkable. She just watched her daughter call the season's most eligible bachelor a failure and she made him love her for it. She had not understood completely until Penelope explained it. That is how subtle she was. Christ, she is impressed. To think she had that type of talent just living under her roof all this time.

Curiosity makes her accept the dinner invitation Viscount Bridgerton sent for her and Penelope that evening. The entertainment she got from watching her daughter verbally spank the self righteous out of Eloise Bridgerton makes the entire night worth it. Looking at the besotted face on of the third boy when they arrived she already knew what the Viscount would want to discuss.

Penelope makes sure she looks the picture of untouched innocence when they head to dinner. One because she knows Anthony is going to claim Colin compromised her and they have to now marry. Second El is petty and will likely be dressed like a Cressida copy. She wants to highlight the difference between her and Cressida to Ant, Kate, and Violet by making her fashion choices look as vulgar as possible by contrast. She is going unravel Eloise through sheer manners. She is going to use her most gentle and airy tones. She wonders if El will make it to the fourth course.

Eloise makes her first move by insinuating how unwelcome Penelope is. "I must say I am surprised you see you here."

Politely I inquire, "Who were you expecting? You seem to be excessively dressed for a simple meal without company."

She lets Eloise stew while she enjoys her first course. It takes her more effort than she cares to admit to avoid blushing at the looks Colin keeps sending her. Luckily before she can embarrass herself Eloise butts in. "I saw Lord Debling's carriage outside your house today."

"How lovely for you. I did not know you were an admirer of carriage design."

Eloise spluttered at that. "I am not."

She continues to return El's volleys with the bare minimum of interest and information. It only takes until the beginning of the third course for Eloise to lose her temper. She snaps rudely and loudly. "I think Cressida will make Lord Debling a charming wife."

She hears Violet sharply call Eloise's name.

Finally she lets her composure slip. Colin can do with some healthy jealousy and Eloise needs to learn to shut her mouth. "Lord Debling is a true gentleman and a deserves much better than Cressida Cowper! "

"Cressida is not nearly so cruel as you make her out to be."

Harshly I respond.

"Cressida is exactly as cruel as I make her out to be. The fact that you do not see that, clears up any doubts I had about the end of our friendship. Cressida has spent our entire childhood verbally and physically harassing me."

"She has gone out of her way since I have come out in society to spread lies and rumors about me. To loudly deride my weight and appearance in front of suitors. She has spilled countless drinks on me and destroyed any gown she could see I enjoyed."

"Just this season she purposely tore my emerald gown forcing me to leave Lady Danbury's ball early or risk a scandal exposing myself, while you stood there watching like a mindless doll. She continued to chase after Lord Debling even after he entered a formal courtship with me. You assisted her I might add. You absolutely do not get to defend that vile girl to me. "

"Seeing how far you have fallen gives me second hand shame. We are friends no longer Miss Bridgerton, you will cease your childish attempts to provoke me. Feel free to never speak to me or about me again. I am a Lady and I will continue to comport myself like one even if you do not understand the importance of such manners."

"Good luck, Miss Bridgerton you will need it. Miss Cowper is fond of blackmail ask the Duchess about it, if you doubt me."

Rising to her feet she addresses Anthony, Kate, and Violet. "I apologize for making a scene in your lovely home. I believe I have worn out my welcome here. Thank you for the invitation but I believe it is best if I depart."

Violet is suddenly on her feet dragging Eloise off to parts unknown and ordering Greg and Hy to listen to Kate. Colin impulsive brute that he is, lifts her up bridal carry and walks off with her. Good lord, his fast pace is making her bosom rub tantalizingly against his chest. Gah she has terrible taste in men. That type of behavior should not be attractive.

Her mama and Anthony are hollering about propriety, liberties, and marriage. Honesty for a newlywed Anthony is still remarkably uptight. She would expect it from her mama but Ant is a reformed Rake. He should not be so easily scandalized.

She notices Kate is now nowhere to be found. God, she is going to be the only person with sense trapped in the study with three marriage minded morons. Well, this will be a delicate act to balance. She has a plan that Colin will no doubt do his best to ruin. He seems to be showing clear signs of Bridgerton obsession and general spoiled entitlement.

She means to stay calm and demure. Tragically Colin opens his mouth and ruins all her plans by being an utter fat wit.

"Do not worry, mother will straighten Eloise out. We will fix this. You and El will apologize and once we marry you shall be sisters."

She decided right then, she will take no prisoners tonight. The nerve of this arrogant boy! She shall shame him into tears.

"There will be no apologies. I am done with your sister. I will continue to be civil in public. She gets nothing more from me. Her behavior this past year has opened my eyes enough to see our relationship was not worth saving."

Colin sits there dumbfounded while Anthony and her mama settle in.

Anthony takes over, alternately apologizing for Eloise and scolding Colin for his behavior.

"Thank you for coming, Lady Featherington. It has been bought to my attention that my brother has compromised your daughter. I will of course see this situation rectified as soon as possible. I shall get a special license issued for them as soon as we come to an agreement. My family greatly adores Miss Penelope and will ensure she is well cared for."

Her mama's brows are practically in her hairline by the time Anthony is done speaking.

She interrupts before this can go any further. "Lord Bridgerton there is no need to offer marriage now."

"Miss Featherington my brother told me he has ruined your marriage prospects and compromised you last night. We are an honorable family. My brother will do the right thing and marry you."

She scoffs looking him in the eyes.

"Lord Bridgerton, I am not going to subject myself to rumors of marital entrapment to appease your hypocritical sensibilities. Mr. Bridgerton announced at my mama's ball that he would never dream of courting me. He has since returned to society and has spent the entire season kissing hands and flirting around with any lady under the age of 30. Your brother agreed to help me find an appropriate suitor. I have spent my season courting a respectable gentleman before your brother crashed his proposal for my hand. To accept a hasty proposal from Colin now is as good as an admission of guilt to all those who claim he has taken my virtue."

"I did not accept your brother's offer of marriage last night I shall not accept it tonight. That you seem to think I have so little self respect that I would agree to this is offensive. There are no witnesses to speak against my virtue, there is only speculation. I will not marry unless I choose to."

She turns to look at Colin's beautiful face, to memorize the way he looks at her with his heart in his eyes, before she shatters both their dreams. It is a gamble she is taking. If she is right, he will fight for her. If she is wrong then it is better to know now.

Colin takes her hands. "I do not understand. Help me understand. I declared myself to you. I love you. I want to marry you, Pen. You want to be married, you want to have a home, you want children. I will give you that."

He kisses her fingers after every sentence.

"I love you, I do. I have loved you in some manner for most of my life. However, I cannot marry you, Colin. I don't trust you anymore. What marriage can last without trust? And Colin, you don't respect me enough for marriage. You would not act the way you do is you had ever truly respected me."

Her beloved Colin kneels before her once again. As she continues.

"You claimed you have wanted me for weeks and I believe you. I knew you wanted me. You have never been able to hide your feelings from me. However you wanted to impress Stanton and Fife more. Tell me Colin, did you hesitate because you were unsure or did you hesitate because it was Penelope Featherington?"

"God, Pen. Stop. It is not like that. What cause I have given you to doubt me so?"

"You promised to protect me Colin, and less than an hour later you had thrown me under a carriage to boast your status among men you have told me you do not respect. Whether you admit it or not you believed yourself above me."

"I ignored you after you made a mockery of me last year to your peers. More so when you came back like an entitled peacock and attempted to use that false charm on me. That you thought your new looks and Rake mannerisms were enough to make me fall at your feet was most disappointing."

"I gave you a chance after you gave me a sincere apology. You told me you were not the same man you were last season when you apologized. You were partially correct, you are much more self aware this season. However Colin, you are still making the same mistakes. You claim to be a proper gentleman but you associate with the most classless individuals you can find. Men whom make sport of despoiling ladies? If you sleep with dogs you will get fleas, Colin."

"Last year I looked at you and thought you were astonishing. A special breed of gentleman who honors his words with actions. I had thought you were one of the few who understood the value of a lady beyond bed sport. In short I thought you were special, Colin. A man worthy of my regard. This season I looked at you and thought you common."

"I have watched you swagger about playing pretend as a cautionary tale. I look at you and it scares me to see what happens when one tries to gain validation from society. I had wondered where all your bravery went? You spent time encouraging me to be myself all while hiding away the best parts of yourself. What is the point of fitting in if it leaves you so exhausted? You have been miserable, Colin. So I have to ask, do you dream of me?Or do you dream of the security I provide for you?"

Colin looks pained as he interrupts her monologue. "Darling, please. Do not for a second doubt my feelings for you. I love you to your bones. If I am hasty it is because I want to begin our lives together."

She allows herself to gaze deep into his eyes before continuing.

"How can I know that? You have changed Colin! I am not speaking on your physical changes. That is a minor superficial change, that matters not to me. I am speaking of your... " " I am speaking of.."

She inhales deeply before she cups his face in her hands . She lets out a whispered plea.

"Tell me Lord Fife is lying. Tell me you have not become one of the unsavory cads you have warned me against. Tell me you do not frequent the brothels. Tell me you have not fallen so far. Tell me you are not claiming to have loved me while making merry in such a place. "

Colin wraps his arms around her waist while he weeps into her lap. His loud wails her answer. Her mother, Anthony, and Violet watch appalled. She distantly wonders, when did Violet show up?

She whimpers in distress. "Oh. I hadn't wanted to believe it. You have spoken so strongly against the practice before. You warned me a true gentleman would never expose his lady to such a health hazard. What does it mean Colin, that you would risk me?"

"You have watched me all season with heated eyes of intent. Yet you never came to call. You have never declared your intentions. You did not court me as is proper, as I deserve. You have done nothing I have been taught to expect from a gentlemen who is serious about taking me to wife."

"I am no mistress Mr. Bridgerton. Yet I feel as if you have been pursuing me as one. I shall not abide by such behaviors. I have standards and you have not met them."

If possible his weeping gets louder. She has never seen Lord Bridgerton look so horrified.

"I am going to go, now. Please, release me. Your touch makes me feel cheapened."

She allows some delicate sobs to escape. Her Colin weeps so harshly his entire frame and hers shakes with it. He pleads with her almost hysterically. "There has been no one else once I realized my feelings for you. I went with them but I did not partake. I have not sought any ladies since I realized I want to marry you. I swear. I shall visit the physician. I shall visit two physicians. I shall court you properly. None shall doubt our union. I shall fix this, I swear it."

She reaches for Violet and allows herself to break down in her arms. She feels terrible that she has subjected his mother to this scene. However Colin is a mama's boy the shame of her knowing of his misdeeds will be a lesson he will never forget. She can feel Violet's tears run into her hair as she tries to soothe her.

"Oh, my dearest Penelope. Just let it all out. I will make sure he grovels appropriately. Agatha and I will handle anyone who questions your virtue, due to Colin. That Cowper girl will not be allowed on our estate anymore, my darling. I had no idea she was harassing you so. It is okay, darling girl."

She will miss Violet and Hyacinth the most when she goes. She is leaving at the end of this season either for a honeymoon or for country living. She just wants her freedom.

Her mama rings for tea and cake when they get home. Luckily her mama gives her time to change into a comfortable nightgown and banyan. She wants rest so she can be nice and refreshed for tomorrow's schemes. Also there is a ball tomorrow night and Penelope intends to look divine for it.

They sit in Portia's tacky sitting room sipping tea in silence for a while. Portia seems to lose her patience after their second cup of tea.

"Penelope have you taken leave of your senses? Why would you deny a Bridgerton match? Why would you address such a topic? Why?"

She lets out a deep sigh. She imagines, I wanted to, is not an answer her mama will accept.

"Colin expected to be my husband but has done nothing to earn me. I will not have him until I feel he has atoned for his previous mistakes. He has had years to open his eyes and see me. That he did not notice me before is not a crime. That he noticed me and carried on like a coward is."

Her tone is more callous the longer she speaks. Frankly she doubts her mama wants to hear that she brought up Colin's whoring to deflect attention from letting him pleasure her in the back of a carriage. No. She shall keep that secret to the grave.

"I do not care for the company he keeps. Now that he knows that company is responsible for making him lose my esteem he will associate with them no longer. Plus Lord Fife has been working against him for years and Mr. Bridgerton is too naive to notice. I was providing him that notice. While also knocking him off his high horse." "Really mama it is a multipurpose attack. I torn him down with the shame of his own actions because his actions were shameful to me. His actions will reflect poorly on me. I will not marry some whore monger. He has always prided himself on being the perfect gentleman."

She shrugs her right shoulder, carelessly. "He is not perfect. He is just a man. He needed to be humbled. Frankly, he was getting too arrogant, too comfortable."

Her mother seems to evaluate her forever before dismissing her. She heads to her bed chambers with her mother's cackles ringing through the door. Dash it all. She will lock her door and windows and sleep this evening off.

[yanderecrazysie]

Hihi! If your fine with it, Can I request part 2 of anonyance? I swear I can’t find Yan!Futakuchi fics anywhere in tumblr give my boy some love too 😭

Also can I be 💭 or 🥞 anon?

I am more than fine with it, my precious anon! And I don’t really keep track of anons officially, but you can be either of those!

And this is more than a drabble than anything.

Title: Annoyance (Part 2)

Pairings: Futakuchi Kenji x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing

Summary: You’ve always found Futakuchi annoying, but he’s only gotten worse since you caught his attention.

Part 1: here

annoyance

/noun/

a thing that annoys someone; a nuisance

“That was a great first date, right?” Futakuchi asked, a smug grin spreading across his face. “I rocked your world, didn’t I?”

“It was alright,” you said vaguely.

“Alright?” Futakuchi spluttered, looking highly offended, “Stop being stuck up and admit it- you loved this date.”

“Stuck up?” Your voice raised.

“That’s not what I-” Futakuchi looked frustrated, running a hand through his hair. You had to admit, he was handsome, especially all dressed up like he was.

But God almighty, was he annoying.

The date had been nice- the restaurant he had picked was fancy, but not too expensive. He had paid the bill with a grin on his face that just begged for you to tell him how impressed you were.

It was the talk during the meal that you truly didn’t like. Futakuchi was infuriating. He spent the entire time talking about how great he was and all of his accomplishments. He barely even took a breath, much less a goddamn bite of his food.

The dinner lasted forever because of his incessant yapping, but you managed to tune him out a half hour in, focusing entirely on your meal. He never once even asked if you were enjoying yourself.

“Listen, the date would have been more than ‘alright’ if you had just shut up about yourself,” you explained.

Futakuchi opened his mouth as though to say something, then closed it again. He looked genuinely at a loss, as though he couldn’t believe you truly didn’t enjoy your date with him.

“Well, I have to go,” you sighed, turning away from him. He grabbed your wrist.

“Where are you going? I have to drive you home.”

“No, I’m just going to grab an uber. Thanks for tonight, I guess.”

Futakuchi’s eyes flashed and when he next spoke, it was through gritted teeth, “Why are you making this so difficult? I’m doing this for us.”

“Us?” You couldn’t hold back a derisive laugh, “What ‘us’? There is no ‘us’.”

His grip on your wrist tightened until it was painful, “You threw that ball at my face, remember? You’re the one who started this.”

You managed to yank your wrist from his grip and glared at him, “What the hell is wrong with you? Listen, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown the ball at you.”

Futakuchi made another grab for your arm but you stepped out of his reach. He pulled his lips back into a sort of snarl, and glared at you, “This is your fault, so take some fucking responsibility.”

You threw your hands up into the air, “I just did, you stupid asshole.”

A sudden vulnerability etched its way across Futakuchi’s face as he reached out for your arm once more, gentler this time, “Look…just…”

He looked up at you with watery eyes, “You don’t have to love me right away, okay? I just… just please stay by my side for a while.”

You hated the part of you who was a sucker for sensitivity. You nodded reluctantly, “Yeah, fine, I’ll hang out with you. I’m not going to fall in love with you, but I won’t abandon you either.”

Futakuchi pulled you into a sudden hug. A soft smile spread across your face, until he whispered in your ear, “I knew you’d see reason.”

You could practically hear the smugness in his whisper. That soft smile was long gone.

He really was an asshole, wasn’t he?

[aeivyen]

Steph Made a Maze, chapter 1

A vampiric romance I've been writing for awhile, but haven't shared (on here). Content warnings on this chapter for sex. If you've been here awhile you might recognize the characters, but it's def not important if you do

~~~

"Do you wanna go bowling with me?"

Steph wasn't entirely certain what she was anticipating when the guy walked up, long sleeved salmon-pink polo and khaki dress slacks not quite fitting the neon noise of the club, thick dark hair pulled back in a soft bun. It hadn't been that question. She stopped swirling the glass in her hand.

"I mean, sorry, you just don't look like you're having a good time? Every time I've glanced over this way you've been leaning against the bar and sipping at your drink, and you look bored; and I can't blame you, because I'm not having a good time either," he continued. Laughed a little, eyes crinkling. "My friends kinda dragged me here and then semi-ditched me. But I did some googling and there's a bar-and-bowling place just down the street from here, and you're cute, and I'd love to buy you some nachos or something and talk somewhere quieter."

He wasn't wrong, exactly. He talked fast, with a squeak in his voice like he wasn't used to talking over the crowd and the music. "Or I could leave you alone. I'm bothering you. I'll-"

"No, no," she shook her head, setting the drink back on the bar behind her. "You're not bothering me. I was just expecting some weird pickup line and you caught me off guard," she assured. This was the most interesting thing to happen in a while; damn, but she wanted to see where this went. "Bowling sounds fun."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He laughed, and there was that crinkle around his eyes again. Then a nod as he slowly came to the conclusion that she was being serious. "Alright. Cool. I'm Tom, by the way," he offered a hand, giving hers a slight squeeze when she shook it. 

"Steph. Nice to meet you," she pulled back, flashing a smile. Careful about the teeth. "Show me to the bowling place?" The hunting hadn't been going well tonight, and it had been for herself anyway; she could wait another day to eat. She'd gone longer without feeding.

Tom grinned. They lingered in the bar long enough for her to pay off her tab and for him to text his friends about ditching them. Then he brought up the directions on his phone and they were out in the cool night, the bumping bass fading into the background of the city. Steph sighed; that was always a relief. 

"Are your ears still ringing, or just mine?" He hummed, breaking the quiet as they walked side by side, rubbing one of his ears. 

"They play the music so loud! It's almost painful," she lamented. It had been physically painful the first several times she'd gone hunting in places like that, and it still was sometimes, but she'd learned to deal. "I don't know how anyone stands it."

"Honestly," he laughed. "It's not for me. If it weren't for being dragged over," he shook his head. Fixed the couple ringlets that had come loose. "I mean it sounds fun on paper, but."

"No, I get it. If I knew what else to do with myself I probably wouldn't go either." She sighed. Every once in a while she'd go hunting in a quieter bar, but the buzzing crowds generally offered better odds. "But clubbing is the kinda thing you're just supposed to like, right?"

"I get that impression too." Tom hummed, nudging her arm. "Oh, I see it: Up My Alley. Right there."

Up My Alley bowling and bar was a far cry from any bowling alley she'd ever seen. The crack of ball against bowling pin contrasted with relaxed bassy strings, the bar tucked up front with the shoe locker and lanes hiding behind it. Red velvety carpet and the smell of cheap nacho cheese. "Weird~ where's the funky carpet and the blacklight?"

"There's a little bit of an identity crisis, I think." He giggled, pausing with her at the door to take it all in. "I like it."

"Definitely interesting." 

"Like a jazz club and a bowling alley had a baby."

A snort of laughter, and Steph shook her head. "Okay, well, let's get our bowling shoes and rent a lane, hm?" She waved him further in, and he ducked ahead of her just as they were reaching the counter so he could pay.

"Want any drinks or snacks? Nachos are still on the table." He offered as they changed out of their shoes.

"I'm not hungry, but thanks." She hummed, adding, "could go for a water if you go to grab anything, though."

"Water it is~ I'm gonna see if they have any ciders on tap. Meet you at our lane?"

"Meet you there."

Steph wandered over to the lane, poking at the little interface, nose wrinkling: touch screen. She was getting better with them but they still felt weird; whatever happened to buttons? Maybe she'd leave that for Tom. Went to pick out a ball next, testing out one after the next and settling on the heaviest.

Tom wandered over with a cider and a bottle of water, offering a grin as he handed her drink over. "One water for the lady."

"Thank you," she smiled back, taking it gently. It was nice that it was a bottled water. "I'm no good with the touch screen things; would you mind doing that part?"

"Oh? Yeah, sure," he hummed, sipping at his drink and tapping at it. "Not great with technology?"

"Doesn't come naturally." She shook her head, cracking the seal and taking a drink. "I find a lot of the app stuff confusing. No one labels their buttons properly anymore, they just kinda expect you to know what they're supposed to do based on color or placement or whatever."

He hummed softly, typing something in. "Yeah, that's true isn't it? My younger cousin tried to show me how to snapchat and I swear, it's all just swipe this or that."

"Awful." She made a face, cracking into laughter when he glanced over. 

With a couple more taps to the screen he hummed, nodded, then stepped back. "I think I got it. It's your turn first, so why don't you go and I'll pick out a ball?"

"Sounds like a plan~" 

It took a few frames worth of gutterballs for Steph to find just the right amount of power to use; it was safer to start too weak than it would be to overshoot it. "Ah, yes! Spare~" she cheered, high fiving Tom on her way back to the seats. 

"You're getting it now." He giggled, fussing with his bowling ball while they waited for the pins to set up again. "So, if you don't bowl much, and you don't really like the club, then how do you usually pass the time?"

"Oh," she blinked, "well, I guess I mostly work. I do hang out at the clubs pretty often," she admitted, offering a slight shrug. "I mean, how else do you meet people, right? But, yeah. Mostly work."

"I get that." A nod. "What do you do for work?"

"That's a good question," she laughed. "It's, well -- I do a lot of odd jobs, academia related. Remote stuff. I've got a history degree specializing in the oral traditions of Central America -- or, what's now considered 'Central America'," she griped, blushing a little when he leaned in to listen. "Um, anyway. Mostly not to do with that. I peer review articles sometimes, or help out in the Writers Workshop at the local community college when they have their night classes."

"That's so cool~ I never managed to finish school, but it was a good time." Grabbing his ball, he waggled his eyebrows, knocking over all but two of the pins and cheering.

"Nice one~" Steph cheered with him as he walked back to reclaim his ball. "What do you do for a living?"

"I, ah," his cheeks colored in pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing special. I'm an assistant manager at a little mom-and-pop grocer. Puts food on the table." He shrugged, fussing with his near empty glass before taking another sip.

Steph pat his arm. "Yeah? I bet that's a hard job, working with people all the time."

"It can be. Some people are nice, you know," he shrugged. His ball clattered back up into the return, and he picked it up. "Others not so much. I'm sure you know how it is: I get through."

"I get that," she hummed, sipping at her water. "Oh, you got this~ get that spare."

"I'll get it." He grinned, heading back out. He carefully considered his place, and his angle, and practiced his throw a couple times before actually making it. Held his breath during the follow-through. Steph caught her eyes trailing down his back and quickly refocused on the ball rolling down the lane. It hit just the edge of the pins, only toppling one. "Damn."

"So close! You'll get it next time." She assured when he came back, shaking out her curls and taking a sip of water. This was just bowling. 

A chagrined smile. "Giving you a chance to catch up."

"It's so appreciated, I need it." Steph laughed. Watched the machine set the pins back down. "So, what kind of stuff do you do? In your off time, I mean."

"I watch a lot of movies," he offered, "does that count?"

"Yeah, that counts," she giggled. Sighed, "I need to watch more movies." Picked up her ball. "I see the trailers sometimes, mostly when my roommates are using the tv, and I always mean to watch the movie when it comes out but I never do."

"No?"

A shrug. "I guess I never get around to it. Feels like I'm always running around," she shook her head. "I read more than I watch things, but that's mostly because I keep a book next to my bed."

"I guess that's fair. I have a subscription to a couple of those indie movie websites, if that tells you anything about how much I like and watch them," he flushed. "Not in a pretentious way, though. Promise."

She snickered. Teased, "Oh, promise? Your taste hasn't evolved too far past the average moviegoer?"

"Nope," he popped the word, not quite holding a straight face. "I still watch all of the blockbusters, and they're mostly fine. They can be a good time."

Steph held the ball close, nearly doubling over when the humor caught up to them. "Then you'll have to give me some recommendations maybe. Can't promise I'll get to them, but," she shrugged, "always looking to add things to the list. Be right back; I feel like I'm ready for a strike."

"You got this!"

She did have it. Even got another and a spare before the end of the game, closing in on Tom's score even if she didn't win. "Aw man~ next time, next time I'll get 'ya," she promised, shaking a fist at his hammy little winner's dance. Then doubled over with laughter.

"Next time?" His heart picked up slightly. She bit her lip. "Wanna go another round then?"

"Night's still young," she agreed, checking her watch. Six hours until dawn. "I think they're going to be shutting down here soon, though. Maybe something else?"

His brows went straight up, and he swallowed hard. "Um, my place is only about fifteen minutes from here; we can watch a movie maybe?" His pulse was racing now. She didn't want to put a name to that; there was a pounding in her chest, too.

The night was still young. "Do you have anything weird but approachable?"

"I think I have just the thing," he nodded after a moment. "Do you need to get your car?"

Steph shook her head. "I took the bus. Your car?"

"In a lot down the street."

They turned in their shoes. Tom offered his arm as they left the building, and she cozied next to him. The night had gone from cool to cold, and he felt even warmer in comparison. Held her close, but not firm; the kind of light touch that drew back the moment she shifted even an inch away. 

"Blue honda, right here," he pointed out, drawing away to unlock the car and throw open the passenger's side door for her. Went around the other side as she was climbing in. "Door's a little fussy, but it'll close so long as you're a little firm with it."

She was firm, and it closed easily. The radio popped to life as soon as he turned the key, a half-second of loud caterwauling music before he turned it back off. "Don't like that song?"

"Not really fitting for the mood." He breathed a laugh, shaking his head. Pulled the band out of his hair as he settled into the driver's seat, curls spilling over his shoulders. Fussed with the console and turned the music back up on something with breathy vocals and a jazzy rhythm. Reversed, pulled out into traffic.

Steph tapped her knees to the syncopated beat. "Catchy."

"If you like my taste in music then that bodes well for my taste in movies, I think." He scratched at the steering wheel. His complexion was soft and golden whenever the glow of the streetlights hit him through the window. 

"I like this kind of vocal, where it's not like," she clicked her tongue, "smooth? There's a raw edge to it that feels real."

A lingering glance over. A lick of his lips, then he shook his head and refocused on the road. "Yeah, heh. I think I know just the right movie."

He parked at a quiet apartment block, not too dissimilar to the place she was living: all flat off-white paint, lights flickering, not quite in disrepair but past its better days. The broken elevator left them to walk up three flights of stairs to his apartment proper: not too cramped, furnished with worn-in browns and greens. The smell of incense and candle smoke and pungent cooking spices lingering in the air. Tom flicked on a lamp, warming up a corner of the room. 

"Make yourself comfortable, please don't mind the mess too much. I wasn't really expecting company."

"You have a nice place." Steph hummed, taking in the pile of dishes and the scattered belongings on the coffee table he was hastily straightening; not much of a mess. Toed off her shoes, tucking them neatly by the door. "I like the posters."

He followed her eyes to the collection. Even in the dim light she could see the color in his cheeks deepen. "Oh, heh, yeah? The theater down the way sometimes lets me have those once they're done with them."

"Fits you, Mr. Cinephile." 

A snort of laughter, and he covered his face. "Okay for the record those are your words, I never called myself that. You don't even," he caught his breath, biting back the protests. Shook his head. "Um, bathroom is the door on the right, down that way. Do you mind if I-?"

"You do what you need to," she laughed. "I'm good for now." 

"Alright. Cool. Um, I'll be right back." 

He disappeared into the bathroom, and she came around to take a seat on the little couch, sinking in on the plush cushions. Rubbed her palm against the soft corduroy texture. The small windows on the wall opposite overlooked the street, letting in light on either side of the television. 

"So, um," Tom cleared his throat as he came out. "Do you need anything? A drink? I've got water, some juice," his hair was fluffed. Sleeves rolled up carefully. His belt was gone. 

Steph bit her lip. "I'm alright, thank you. Is it just you here?"

"Yeah," he nodded, closing the distance and turning on the television; he smelled like cinnamon mouthwash and almond perfume now. "I'm pretty lucky I could afford a place just to myself. You said you had roommates, right?"

"Two. It's not so bad; we've pooled our money, so we all have our own bedrooms and we just share the bath and the main rooms," not that it was much of a problem. She shrugged. "It works for us. We're pretty close."

"That's good." He drew the curtains in. Hummed, "it can be really nice to live with friends." Sat next to her, started fussing with the remote, clicking through his movie apps to find what he was looking for.

She nodded agreement. "It's good for me. I lived alone for a bit; the company is nice."

"Yeah?" He glanced over. "How old are you?"

Her lips pursed; it wasn't the first time she'd gotten this question. How to play it this time? "How old do you think I am?" He made a face, and she laughed. Bit her lip. "You can guess, I won't be offended. Hint: I'm older than I look."

He took a breath, almost answered, then frowned and looked her over again. "28 or 29?"

She nodded, sitting back further into the cushions. "Good guess."

"Am I right?" He asked carefully. Then, when she didn't answer, started laughing. "Wait, no, am I right or not? Are you not gonna tell me?"

Steph laughed with him. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Come on," he pleaded, giving her a gentle shove. She doubled over, giggling into her knees. "What if I tell you my age? I'm 31."

She snorted. Sat up and fixed her hair. "That's a good age." Bit back her laughter into a tight lipped grin. 

"Older? Are you older than me?"

She shrugged, then forced a nonchalant expression. "I told you, I'm older than I look." Glanced to the tv; silent trailer playing on half of the screen, rows and rows of movies listed underneath. "So what are we watching?"

He huffed. Shook himself out of it, fumbling with the remote in his off hand before managing to get back to what he was doing. "Let me pull it up; I think you'll like it. This guy builds a maze out of cardboard in his living room, then gets lost in it because it's bigger on the inside."

"Weird," she snickered. Pretended not to notice when an arm snaked around her waist, or how she leaned back into him. At least until the first scene inside the maze, when she gasped and leaned forwards. "Oh what? Oh that looks so cool."

Tom snickered. "Right?" 

"How long do you think it took to make all that?"

"A few days?" He shrugged. "Probably depends on how many people were working on it."

With the quiet already broken Steph commented unrelentingly on the set designs, chimed in on the conversations happening on screen. Tom explained a couple of the visual effects he understood. Paused the movie when the question "what kind of maze would you make and get trapped in?" was floated. His, he insisted, would look just like an Ikea if it were only different set-dressed mud rooms. Steph thought hers would be a hallway where she could only walk forwards because everything behind her always disappeared; she didn't mention the smell of iron.

They eventually finished the movie. Put on another after because it was short and Tom thought she'd like the visuals, and there was plenty of time for her to still get home: three hours until dawn, and they were on the right side of town for the walk to maybe be half an hour if she hurried. Got caught up in a long conversation about the ethics of forcing ghosts to 'move on' if they were stuck in the living world.

This, obviously, had to be followed up by a mockumentary on the afterlife that was drier than either of them thought it would be. Tom made it halfway through before the yawns he'd been suppressing finally broke through his resolve, leaning on Steph's shoulder when he nodded off. She struggled to get to the end. Once it was finished she could see herself out, head home, get back to her normal life. 

Tom was warm. His hair was soft where it brushed against her neck, a whisper of almond perfume radiating off it. Gentle rhythm of his heartbeat drumming, ever so slightly faster on each inhale, then settling again on the exhale. The movie was so dull, almost nothing was happening in the visuals. She could close her eyes and just listen to the rest, and she wouldn't be missing anything.

~~~

A far off sound. A bright light on her face. A gentle singe.

Steph winced. Cracked an eye open and saw sunlight. Hissed. "Fuck! Shit," threw something over her head. Tucked away under whatever cover she could. Squirmed underneath the couch cushions to get further away. "Close that! Close that!"

"Ah, um," Tom babbled. The sound of the curtains closing again. "Sorry! I didn't mean to wake you, I-"

"I, it's -- fuck," she muttered. "I'm, um, shit. I'm so -- the sun? I can't, I'm severely-" what the fuck was she supposed to say? "Allergic. To the sun. It's, um," she swallowed. There was a term for this. She learned it for just this occasion. "Solar urticaria? U-r-t-i-caria. Just like a minute of sunlight and I'll-" crumble into ash, "-get horrible blisters. It's bad. I basically have to be nocturnal. Oh fuck."

There was a long, keening, confused noise from somewhere across the room. Her heart was racing. Steph managed to poke the smallest of peepholes out from the cushions and blanket -- since when was there a blanket? -- to see the windows were safely covered. Sighed in relief.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know that, um."

"You didn't know. It's fine. Just, um," fuck. She slowly unburied herself, cringing at the disarray she'd made of the couch. She didn't make it home. She fell asleep here and the sun was fully up; what time was it? Checked her watch and nearly choked: 11:50. B and Anthony were going to be so worried.

She pat her pockets; her wallet was in one, the other was empty. Where was her phone? Didn't she --

She groaned and buried her face into the arm of the couch. It was on the kitchen island. She set it there before she left to go hunting; it was still weird trying to bring her phone with her hunting. 

"Are, um. Are you okay?" Tom winced from closer to the couch.

"I forgot my phone at home and my roommates are gonna freak out." Steph groaned. 

"You could call them on my phone?" He offered.

"I don't know their numbers; I always just use the contact button," she muttered. Fixed her hair to look up at him. "Is it cool if I hang here until sunset?"

He took a breath. "Yeah, ah. Well luckily I don't have work today, so that's fine, so long as you're cool with me doing some chores? It's a chores day for me."

"Yeah, no, of course you can," she shook her head, "I can help with the chores maybe? I'm a wiz with a broom." She squeaked. Muttered, "did I really just say that?" Sighed and flopped her head back down. 

An awkward laugh. "Oh, ah, I'm not gonna make you help me clean up. It's fine."

"No, I want to. Let me be helpful."

"Maybe let's focus on breakfast first?" He tentatively pat her back. "How do you feel about eggs?"

She cringed, and he pulled back. "Um, funny about that," 

"Oh, vegan?"

"No. Far from it. Just," she took a breath. Sat up properly. "I, um. I'm on this medical fast. I'm fasting. I won't be able to eat until tonight, which is fine because I'm on this weird diet for my health; I don't usually go into it with strangers."

He stared for a long moment. "Okay. Um, you don't mind if I-"

"Eat?" She finished. "Are you wondering if I care about you eating around me?" 

A wince. "It just seems rude?"

"It's not. I'd be concerned if you didn't eat on my account. This is," she shook her head. Made a couple of vague gestures. "I'm used to this. This is just life for me." A short pause. He looked like a confused puppy, but one that was giving her the benefit of the doubt at least. "Does your bathroom have a window?"

"No. No windows in the bathroom, you're good there. Okay." He fixed his hair, the collar of his shirt; not the polo from last night, but an olive green satin that was almost a nightshirt. "I guess I'll just start breakfast for one, and we'll go from there?" He suggested, sighing heavily when she nodded.

"Perfect. I'm going to go freshen up."

Steph escaped into the bathroom. Rinsed her face with some cold water. Breathed through the buzzy anxiety starting to creep into her fingers: this was fine. Sure, she was stuck in some strange guy's apartment until nightfall. And the others didn't know where she was or what had happened, and she didn't have her phone to let them know. 

Bright sides, bright sides: Tom seemed nice. Skeptical maybe, but hearing her out. She could do some chores with him and then maybe watch more movies? That had been nice. This was fine. It'd be fine.

She dried her face. Used the bathroom. Fixed her curls once her hands were clean and dry again. When she came back out the couch cushions were all back in their places. The smell of melting butter hit her first, then onions. Eggs. Paprika. Tom was humming softly over a sizzling fry pan. An apron tied around his waist emphasizing a curve she hastily looked away from.

"You have a nice voice." 

He fumbled with the pepper grinder he'd been grabbing. His hair was pulled back again, exposing the hint of pink rising up his neck as his heartbeat stuttered. 

She forced her eyes away and leaned against the far side of the counter. "Anything I can help out with?"

"You wa- heh, I," he shook his head, "You walk so quiet. Startled me."

"Sorry," she snickered, glancing around and settling on the sink. "I can start dishes while you're cooking, if you want?"

Tom gave her a withering look over his shoulder, stirring whatever he was working on. "You really don't have to."

"I'd like to. I'd feel weird just sitting around while you were doing chores, especially," she made a face. "You didn't exactly ask for all this. I mean neither of us did, but you're being a very good sport about it."

He took a deep breath. "It's thrown me for a little bit of a loop. When you came over I was kind of hoping you'd stay for breakfast," he admitted. The pounding in his chest was loud, she looked at anything else. "And it's not exactly what I was imagining, but I think we can still have a good time."

"I think we can, too," something fluttered in her stomach. She cleared her throat; no need to think about that. "I'm going to do the dishes unless you stop me."

A sputtered protest, "that's not-- my hands are full, that's not fair."

She stuck her tongue out at him, turning on the water to fill up the sink. "Don't burn your eggs please, it'll make the pan more difficult to clean," she teased. Rolled up her sleeves. The dish soap and sponge were conveniently next to the sink. 

Tom muttered about her playing dirty, but dissolved into laughter before he could finish the thought. Steph giggled along as she got to work, listening as he finished cooking. Turned off the stove, scraped the eggs onto a plate. Tentatively set the warm pan off to the side with the rest of the dirty dishes. "Thanks."

"You should eat," she hummed, taking the pan to work on next. "And tell me what other chores we're gonna be working on today."

He sighed. "Dishes were the biggest one," he hummed. Took a bite. "I was thinking about doing the floors today. You know; sweep, vacuum, mop. Maybe dust. And I don't care how insistent you are, I'm not letting you clean my bathroom."

"Alright, alright," she snickered. "Have it your way."

He took a couple more bites, then winced slightly. "And, um. I was going to make bread today, but I don't-"

"Fresh bread's delicious; you should definitely do that."

"And I won't be able to share it with you! I'll feel bad."

"Come on," she teased, flicking a sudsy hand at him. "I'd love to help bake some, at least get to enjoy that process."

He pat at the soap bubble clinging to his apron. Opened his mouth like he was going to protest again, but shifted to let it go. Offered a soft smile. "Alright, alright," he relented. "Let me finish eating first."

By the time she finished up he'd brought the dough together. Turned to her as he rolled his sleeves up, "help me knead?"

"Of course~" 

It was like riding a bike, sticky dough coming together as she found the rhythm again. Tried not to stare at his hands as they worked his portion into something supple and yielding. Bit her lip. "I missed this."

"You bake bread a lot?"

"I used to, ages ago," she shrugged. "Not allowed to eat it anymore so it's been awhile. Suppose I could make some to give away but," she shook her head. "You know."

"Yeah," he hummed softly. A long moment, just the sounds of kneading; the rhythm of breath and heartbeat in sync with hands against dough, dough against counter. "It sounds hard. All this medical stuff, I mean."

Steph took a deep breath. "That's life. Our bodies change, we change; sometimes there's a give and a take." She shrugged. Passed the dough from hand to hand to form a smooth ball. "I wouldn't be where I am without my limitations," she bumped his side, "and I kinda like where I am right now."

His heart stuttered, and she giggled with him. "I think mine is ready to rise; you have a bowl?"

"I- right. A bowl." He grinned, stepping away to grab one. 

They left the bread to rise while sweeping the floors. Tom put on dance music just in time for the vacuum to come out; Steph took the opportunity to sing along while he couldn't quite hear her. Shaped the dough into loaves for the second rise. Danced and dusted. He ate a quick lunch, sharing a bottle of soda with her. Wiped down counters. By the time the oven was pre-heated and the bread ready to go in the apartment was as clean as Steph was allowed to help with. 

Tom set the oven timer, untying his apron and taking the band out of his hair. "Okay, so, we have 40 minutes to kill before they'll be ready to take out. Should we watch a movie?"

"Sounds good to me," she grinned. Leaned back against the couch.

He fixed his hair as he came around. "Any requests? Something you're in the mood for." 

"I'm not sure," she hummed, taking a seat next to him. His pulse sped up just slightly; fuck, it was thrilling every time. "I think I picked the last one, didn't I? Why don't you pick. I trust your taste."

"Okay," he nodded. Clicked through a couple of menus. Tentatively broached, "would it be weird, or too much, if I were to suggest a romance?" 

Steph swallowed. "Is that something that's on your mind?"

"Maybe," he admitted. She could practically feel the heat radiating off him. "Is that okay?"

"It's," she sighed, feeling her own face warming. Fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves. Kept her eyes straight ahead on the television. "It's been awhile for me. I won't pretend it doesn't sound good."

A soft laugh, and he shifted closer. "We're not talking about movies anymore, are we?"

She dared a glance over. Bit her lip. "No," she sighed. Forced a laugh, held herself from shying away. "No, I'm not sure we are anymore."

"Okay," his head bobbed in a nod, eyes wandering over her face. Settled on lips. Flicked back up. "And if I told you I've been wondering about what it'd be like to kiss you?"

"I'd," something in her chest buzzed pleasantly. She couldn't help a glance down at his mouth. "I'd admit that it might've crossed my mind. Once or twice." 

A nod. He shifted closer again, turned, his knee brushing over hers; her heart pounded in her chest. "We could satisfy that curiosity, if you wanted. I'd be more than okay with that."

She took his hands, squeezing softly. "It's been a long time. I mean, a very long time."

"Highschool?" He guessed, and she snickered.

"Something like that." She shook her head. "Go slow with me?"

"As slow as you want," he promised. Hands came up to cup her face; they were warm, soft. She licked dry lips, watched his eyes flick down again. He leaned in, looked back for permission; she gave a slight nod. A thumb ran across her bottom lip, and she pressed into the kiss that followed. 

Soft lips. A slow, gentle kiss. She cupped his face, brushed against the slightest amount of stubble. Moved to soft hair. His hand moved down, then a grip at her waist pulled her closer. Heart beating hard in her chest. Loud in his. A moan. 

When she pulled back to catch her breath he trailed kisses up her jaw, down her throat. She swallowed hard, lifting her chin to give him access. Moaned, twisted fingers in his hair. "Shit~ I-" Imagined teeth, broken skin, warm blood spilling. Pain and panic and bliss. Her breath caught in her throat. She flinched back, ducking her chin to hide her neck. "T-Tom, please,"

"Sorry," he moved away. Smoothed her hair back. "Is this too far?" Voice soft and gravely, dark eyes gentle and caring.

"No, just," she shook her head. Swallowed the memories, the want, back down. "It's okay. Just not my neck. Anywhere but," caught her breath, pressed their foreheads together. "It's more intense than I thought."

"We can stop." He assured, snickering when she peppered kisses over his cheeks. Hands tightened on her waist. "Or we can keep going?"

"I'd like to keep going."

Tom kissed her, long and sweet and yielding when she deepened it. She squeezed his shoulders, twisted fingers in his hair. His trailed up, brushed underneath the hem of her shirt. Pulled away enough to meet her eyes. "Is this okay? Can I take this off you?"

"If we take this off you," she fussed with the buttons on his shirt, biting her lip when undoing it exposed some hair on his chest. Felt the thrum of his heart through his ribs. He laughed, pulling her hands up and kissing her palms. "Fair is fair, right?"

"Fair is fair."

His shirt went first, then hers went over her head. Her fingertips ran though chest hair, traced a soft stomach. He ducked to pepper kisses down her chest, at the edges of a simple black bra. Straddled her waist. She groaned when he pressed her back, moving down her stomach. Buried her hands in his hair.

"Is this okay?" His breath on her waist, fingertips sinking beneath her waistband. 

"Yes, yes, yes." Steph swallowed hard. Lifted her hips when he slipped the material down. "Fuck, Tom," she keened, turning to cover the blush creeping up her face. He moaned, sunk lower, settled on his knees beside the couch. Sucked at her hips. Gently parted thighs. "Tom,"

"You're beautiful~" He paused in his ministrations, looking up at her. "Is this alright? Not too much?" There were goosebumps where his thumbs rubbed over her leg, tracing light scars.

She forced a couple hard breaths. "It's good. It's alright. I- fuck," dissolved into a long sigh when mouth found skin again. A tongue traced her lower lips, around her clit. She balled her hands against the couch cushions. "Fuck."

Steph's head spun as he ate her slowly. She'd been savored before, but not like this. Her hearing caught on his soft groans, on the excited heaving of his chest. The far away sound when she whined his name, when he drew a moan or a pant out of her. On the oven timer beeping and the soft curse that followed. 

He laughed lightly, "oh no~" Leaned his head against her thigh. 

"Come on," she sighed, rubbing her face.

"I know, rude." Tom snickered. Got up, kissed her temple and touched their foreheads together for just a second. "I'll be right back, don't want it to burn. Don't move a muscle."

"I'm moving all my muscles." She huffed. Stretched. Sat up, grabbing the blanket to cover herself. Heard the sink come on and looked back to see him washing his hands. He flicked the water off them, hastily tossed his apron back on, used a tea towel to retrieve the loaf pans from the oven. "They smell good~"

"Look good, too. Just gotta," he turned one of them out, hissing at the heat. Tapped at the bottom, nodding at the hollow sound. "Yeah that's done." Dropped it onto a cooling rack. Then the other. 

Steph watched him, leaning over the back of the couch. "Your bedroom have a window?"

He stopped with the apron halfway off again. "It has blackout curtains."

"That'll work." She hummed. "Should we move over there so you're not kneeling on the floor?" 

"I'd kneel for you anytime~" He smirked, hanging the apron back up.

Snickering, she ducked to hide her face in the couch cushion. Shook her head. "That can't be good for your knees."

"Aw, you're worried about my knees?" He giggled. Washed his hands again. "Let me make sure the curtains are drawn, and we can move to the bed. How far are you okay with going? I do have condoms: latex, and non-latex. Though," he rubbed the back of his neck, "probably should check the expiration before we use them."

She hesitated. "I'm not opposed to that. It's just,"

"Been a long time." He nodded. Bit his lip. "Let's take it a moment at a time. I'll let you know when it's safe to come in." He hummed, slipping into the bedroom. 

Steph sunk into the couch. It felt strange being half-naked, alone on the couch in his living room, listening to him shuffling things around in the bedroom. She checked the time; sun would be setting soon. She'd have to leave and go hunting, check in with B and Anthony. 

"You're all good to come in now," he called. 

A deep breath. Called back, "be right there." Slipped her bra off on the way over. Maybe it'd feel better if she owned her nudity. 

He was seated on the bed when she got in, mouth falling open as she stepped through the door. There were candles lit on the dresser and the bedside table; already the room smelled like almonds and vanilla. "Wow~"

She laughed. Closed the door behind her, joining him on the bed. "It felt weird to be in just the bra. Do you think we could," she picked at his waistband. 

A bark of a laugh, the bite of a lip. "Yeah. Fair is fair, I think." He nodded. Stood, stripped slowly for her. She followed the trail of hair on his stomach down; his heart stuttered at the scrutiny. Sat back next to her. "Maybe we start with kissing again?"

"I'd like that."

This time it was more heated, hungry. Steph traced hands over his chest, his waist. Heard his heart pounding, blood rushing, warmth just under the skin when she pulled away, traced lips over his jaw. He groaned, hand tightening on the back of her neck. She swallowed hard when he leaned his head back: an open invitation, a temptation he didn't understand. 

Ducked to lavish his chest with attention instead. Fingertips traced down her spine; she shivered, moaning openly. Trailed a hand down his stomach, between his legs to be met with a gasp. "Fuck, Steph."

She stole another kiss. Guided a hand up to cup her breast as she stroked; felt him grow warmer, stiffer under the ministrations. His other hand found its way between her legs, thumb circling over her clit. Her knees went weak. "You," she panted, "said you had condoms?"

"Yeah," he swallowed. "You have a preference?"

"No preference." She kissed his cheek. "No allergies to that."

A nod. He moved her off his lap, grabbing one of the condoms he'd set out before. "Missionary?"

"Just come close to me." Steph beckoned, pulling them both to lie down. Helped to slip the condom on, kissing him hard again. He hooked one of her legs over his hip, and she groaned into his mouth when he pressed inside. Leaned her forehead into his, breathing deep as she settled into the feeling.

He kissed her cheek. "Let me know when you're ready."

"I'm ready," she promised, tucking a curl behind his ear. Moaned again when he started moving. Nestled close to him, one hand buried in his hair and the other feeling over his chest. His warm breath cascaded over her shoulder as he settled into a steady rhythm.

Before long the pleasure creeping in her chest made it hard to breathe. "Tom, I," she panted. Clutched him close, pressing him into her neck. Shook as everything spilled over into wave after wave of heat, of pulse, of tension and relaxation. 

He groaned into her, rolled them over; thrust faster, deeper. Cried out when he came undone, trembling and nosing into her shoulder until she calmed enough to let him go. He laughed slightly. "Fuck, Steph." Pulled out. Discarded the condom.

She turned to tuck into his chest. His heartbeat reverberated in her head. Still moving hard, fast; always slightly faster whenever he inhaled, even as things slowly steadied. "That was so good."

"Yeah," he laughed. Kissed her cheek. Fixed her hair gently. "It was amazing." Another kiss, "you're amazing."

"You're amazing." She sighed. Closed her eyes to drink in this moment. Warm bodies, warm breath, soft skin; strong, steady heartbeat. A hand in her hair. A chin tucked against the top of her head. 

Steph couldn't name the length of time that passed; maybe she'd been about to fall asleep again, but when he spoke it startled her. "You should probably go to the bathroom."

"Hm?" She blinked.

"You know," he cringed. Rubbed her back, "so you don't get a UTI?"

She laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Good call." Stretched away from him, shoulders popping. "And it's getting late, huh?" He glanced to the glowing face of an alarm clock, and she followed his eyes; yeah, the sun was definitely set now. "I should probably get home soon. Check in with my roommates, let them know I'm alive."

"Right, right." A slight frown, but a nod. "Probably a good idea. I'm sure they're freaking out."

Steph sat up. Hesitated at the edge of the bed. "I had a really nice time. This has all been," she shook her head. "The best. I haven't had a day like this-"

"In ages?"

She snickered. Grabbed one of the pillows and plopped it over his face. "In ages." He didn't even know. Couldn't even know. She shook her head. "I'm going to go clean up."

"I'll get your clothes together." He offered, pushing the pillow away as he sat up. Caught her hand before she stood, planting a soft kiss against her palm. "Do you think I could get your number?"

She should say no before anything got complicated. Be a one night stand, a passing hurt at worst, a wild story for him to tell the closest of his friends. Anything but a looming threat, a specter of the burden of knowing too much; what other end could this have? "Yeah. I'll find something to write it down on." She forced a smile, pulled her hand away. Left to the bathroom.

It was dark, but the heat from the day hadn't quite evaporated before she made her way home. "Steph!" Anthony called from her usual perch, clamoring down the fire escape to meet up with her at street level. "Hey! What-" she made a face, pulling back from the embrace she'd been going for. "Oh."

She cringed, certain of the lingering smell. "It's a long story."

"I'm sure it is." She shook herself out of it. "Let's get inside before B starts a manhunt."

B was pacing in the living room when they made it in, her cellphone clutched in both of their hands. "Steph! Oh my god!"

"Hey," she waved, shying back when they hurried over. "I hope you weren't too worried."

"You forgot your cellphone, and you didn't come back after hunting; of course we were worried, not that Anthony'll admit it," they made a face when they got close, stepping back. "You smell weird."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "Yeah, um. It's a long story, but I didn't get anything last night-"

"I'm pretty sure you got something," Anthony muttered behind her, barely containing a smirk.

"-so I'm actually gonna go shower, and then I have to go hunting again." She grinned placatingly, starting to step around towards the hall.

B scowled. Looked between her, and Anthony, and her cellphone. "Is that who the fuck Tom is?"

Steph nearly choked. "Have you been reading my texts?"

"You were missing!" They defended. "When your phone buzzed I thought maybe you were trying to get ahold of us! I know you don't know our numbers."

She shook her head. Stepped just close enough to snatch her phone out of their hands. "How did you even get into my phone?"

"Your pin is 1235! It's not as clever as you think."

Anthony snickered by the doorway. "Tom? Is that his name?"

"Oh, shut up," she frowned. Unlocked the phone to see it still open on the new text conversation.

<unknown number> Hey ;) <unknown number> It's Tom btw <unknown number> Text me when you get this, so I know you got back safe? <unknown number> *one photo attachment* (a selfie from his living room) <unknown number> In case you want a photo to use for me

"Alright, alright," Anthony relented. "You shower; I'll go hunting for you tonight, and when I get back we can talk about phone security and how we want to handle not having our cellphones on us going forwards, yeah? Sound good?"

Steph sighed. "Fine, alright." Glanced back at the phone as she made her way to her room to grab her towel. Paused inside, added him as a contact. Texted back.

<Steph> Hey, made it back alright. 

Then, before she could turn back into the hall,

<Tom> Good! I'm glad <Tom> Think we can make plans to meet up again soon?

<Steph> I'll check my schedule

[originemesis]

@danger-tits-lute xxx

He almost dropped her... almost. He made up for it with a tighter grip and a good jostling as punishment, a little warble of surprise and disorientation came from her throat as his assertion of dominance reminded her that she was a force to be reckoned with when it came to sinners and unlucky winners when she was in a bad mood, but was nothing compared to the size and strength he held over her just in his natural state. It caused her to hold onto his wrists for some semblance of stability instead of attempt to break them a second time. Help her? With what?! Her question was answered by the way he used her as some sort of instrument to play a tune of fixing his garment she was being swallowed in. It made her dizzy, as if he were some teetering, poorly built carnival ride that only had one benefit, and that benefit was smoothing out the excess fabric so she didn't actually trip and kill herself despite however much she wanted to die currently. When finished she was then carried and dropped into the seat next to him before taking his own place to continue his irritating banter. She scoffed as he corrected her. "Please, as if you care about being politically correct. But you're right, I used the wrong term. Hell would probably be more fun." At least then she'd get to take her frustrations out and kill whoever was stupid enough to be in her vicinity. His next question took her off guard though, as the continued flashing highlighted her shrinking down into the safety of the high collared robe. "I'm not being twitchy! And I'm not on crack!" As unbelievable as her protests already were, it was only a matter of time before the rumblings turned into sharp snaps that she believed shook the entire structure around her. And that time seemed to be approaching now as the first true thunderous boom resonated from outside. An uncontrollable but small scream, accompanied by a soft sob and quickly pulled legs, proved why she was, in fact, twitchy. Her only current solace in the situation was that she was too frightened to care how she looked to her antagonistic boss, with her arms wrapped around her knees and face buried into his clothes on top of them. She was small already but she looked absolutely miniscule now curled into such a tiny ball of shaking lieutenant. She knew she would pay for it in frustration later but for now, all she could do was cry.

"Shows how much you know about me ~ " He snorts, observing her through the side view of his visor as she seems to settle into his borrowed robe that looks more like a muumuu on her than anything. "I mean, I'm so woke I hired you, didn't I? Which I'm starting to question now that you're here playing inquisitor to my feminist agenda." A huff from anyone else might have been perceived as peeved, but he has the tone deaf tendency of someone who fucks around too much to find out what anyone actually thinks about him to sell her on any possible shortcomings he's noticed from her performance so far. Her delivery speed when it comes to coffee orders and snack runs is actually top-notch.

"You're twitching right now, bitch! Just own your truth. We can't work well together if you're holding back on me. Partners in plowing demon ass have to be- y'know, synced and shit!" Brow quirking as if he's unconvinced by the validity of her claims as far as a crack habit goes when she literally just said hell would be more fun to visit than his place with its succulent smell of burning fast food wrappers. Speaking of- he stuffs a talon down between the couch cushions and yoinks up another handful of trash to add to the 'candle' bowl. Is that a hint of Whopper?

As he rubs hands together and fans them over the flame as if to warm them, his attention is suddenly drawn from the flickering trash fire to her screeching and tunneling further into the robe until it just looks like she's a pile of laundry sitting there. Not a very good impression, mind you considering she's still tweaking out. "The first step to recovery is admitting when you have a problem, sweetie." A slow smirk slides into place along with his wing that snakes around her back, sliding her in to his flank where her trembling becomes all the more apparent.

"Seriously- what's your fucking problem? Don't tell me you're scared of a widdle thunder stormy?" When a flash of lightning fills the room for a brief and blinding second, he waits for the resounding boom while watching her under his wing for confirmation.

"Pffbt- you are, aren't you?"

[moviemunchies]

I was almost sure I already had a Detective Pikachu review, but I can’t find it in my drive, so here we are.

When Detective Pikachu was announced, a lot of us were skeptical. Yeah, plenty of people wanted a live-action Pokémon movie when we were kids, but it didn’t seem like something realistic, and out of Detective Pikachu, a side game barely anyone had heard of? And Ryan Reynolds is voicing Pikachu?! Yeah, no, this is probably going to flop.

Except the first trailer dropped, and immediately we were like, “Wait a minute. This actually looks good, or at the very least plenty of fun. What the heck?”

Tim wanted to be a Pokémon trainer when he was a kid, but he grew up to be an insurance agent. But when his estranged father, a detective in Ryme City (a place where Pokémon and humans live side by side and there are no Pokémon battles), goes missing and is presumed dead, Tim goes to Ryme City to go through his father’s things. What he finds instead is his father’s Pikachu, which he (and only he) can understand, though Pikachu has no memory of what happened. 

So Tim, a young man with little Pokemon skills, and Pikachu, an aspiring detective, have to solve the mystery of what happened to Tim’s father, while avoiding a sinister conspiracy that threatens both humans and Pokemon.

This movie is loads of fun! I didn’t think that live-action Pokémon would really work, and yet it does? They manage to give realistic textures for entirely fictional anime creatures! That’s pretty darn impressive, in my book. I remember that some people were apparently bothered by the fact that Pikachu in this movie is fluffy, and apparently didn’t realize that he had fur in the anime, too; those people can shut up, because fuzzy Pikachu is adorable and looks fantastic, as do the other Pokémon in this movie.

Ryan Reynolds is also a surprisingly good voice as Pikachu? This casting announcement felt very weird to me, but it works. A lot of his lines are supposedly improvised, and they land pretty well, for the most part. There are a couple of jokes that don’t work; for instance, at one point Pikachu makes a joke about climate change denial during an earthquake, which doesn’t really make a lot of sense.

Justice Smith does a fantastic job here. Okay, yeah, his character’s not too complex, but he’s funny, he’s likable, and he does well with what  he’s given. When you factor in that he’s acting off of a CGI character, and that they didn’t even have a ball on a stick placeholder for him in many of those scenes? He does amazing.

There are some who have said that the events of this movie prove that its canon with the original anime. But I have my doubts–certain events are vaguely referred to, which could be references to either the anime or the games. At best we can infer that SOME events happened in the backstory similarly to the anime, but that’s about it. I’m also confused about random references to other countries, because I assumed Pokémon occurred in a world completely different from our own. Maybe I was wrong in that assumption.

If you like Pokémon, you’ll think this movie is awesome. Maybe you’ll be a little disappointed in that you wanted a greater variety of Pokémon to appear, but I think other than that you’ll be fine. There are still an astounding amount of Pokémon that appear in the movie, and they all look pretty good. The movie proved that a live-action Pokémon movie could actually work, which I didn’t think it would.

[greatatuintheworldturtle]

"God and I'm supposed to be the evil one?" The villain chuckled to herself, the 3rd margarita at the Islands restaurant they'd settled on causing a wave of giddiness. The situation was absurd from her perspective. Hours ago, she was frantically looking to escape from her latest evil plan blowing up in her face and now her nemesis was tearing into a teriyaki burger with fries and a comically sized glass of Blue Moon discussing a partnership. Out of all her Machiavellian machinations, she never would have expected this outcome in a million simulations.

"Hey if you're asking me to move to the Bay Area to be closer to HQ, I'm gonna need to be able to keep up with the Joneses. I wasn't the one who needed the relocation so bad, remember?", the fallen hero said, wiping teriyaki sauce off chin.

"it's just- that's like 3 times the median salary for most of my henchmen."

"To be fair, I knocked out like every single one of those henchmen the last time I defeated you. It's not like I'm not bringing a lot to the table here", he said, gesturing with a ketchup covered steak fry.

"And I respect that, but I would be a bit more flush with resources to throw around if SOMEONE, and I'm not saying who, hadn't destroyed years of Death Ray R&D, not to mention the millions of dollars of equipment that exploded. See my problem here?" She was trying very hard to hold onto the mask of scientific objectivity that served her well in the mad sciences, but it was hard to keep the bitterness of defeat out of her tone.

"Fair, but we wouldn't be here discussing this in the first place if you had destroyed the world like you planned to. So there's that." The Fallen Hero had mostly finished his plate, sopping up the last of the ketchup with the few remaining fries. "But be that as it may, I'm not switching sides just to be poor for someone else. I'm talking about being a right hand man, a partner, not just some henchman.

The scientist nearly snorted into her French Dip. Was he serious? "Look, don't get me wrong the fact that you can take out an entire facility full of armed guards is impressive, but is it six figures impressive? Really? Hell if I wanted to I could clone you and have a dozen yous running around punching things."

"Alright, first of all, rude. Don't just tell a guy you're thinking of cloning him. That's just bad manners. Second, would these clones of you have valuable Intel regarding the Heroes Council?", he said, washing down the last swig of beer from his plastic stein glass.

It was hard to keep a straight face at that, but she did. She had been caught off guard by this turn of events, and hadn't expected the fallen hero to come at her with all the angles covered. OF COURSE she wanted the intel on her greatest enemies, but she had been hoping to low-ball him and then weasel info out of him for free as soon as he got comfortable. But he was asking for a quarter million per year, full healthcare coverage, including dental and vision, and a 401k pension with matching contributions. Hell, even SHE didn't have a 401k. She'd had to swindle despots and monsters with more money than sense in order to fund her latest projects and she was still grappling with how to tell them that not only had she appropriated the death Ray they'd commissioned, but also was seriously considering hiring the guy who'd blown it all up. It had been an interesting 24 hours, to say the least.

The Fallen hero noticed the mad scientist had paused for a beat too long and waved a hand in her direction. "Doc, you still there? Hello?"

Curses, he noticed my hesitation. No use trying to hide it now. " I can offer you the salary and the healthcare coverage, but the 401k is completely out of the question," she said, matter of factly.

The former hero stuck out his hand to shake. " You put that in writing, we've got ourselves a deal. I got the feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership."

The villain gives their customary “join me and we can be great” speech. The hero accepts.

[amali-thealia]

Military

I was at a ball Saturday night with 2 of my friends including one that is currently dating someone.

We are at the ball having fun and all and it's a military ball so obviously, there are military men. The night goes on and my friend is going to dance with a guy and I stay with my friend who is dating someone.

When all of a sudden there is someone asking HER to dance and she says no so the guy turns to me and ask me.

AND THEN one of the craziest moment of my entire life. One thing you should know is that I never dated anyone in my life or even touched a boy romantically.

So the guy and I are dancing and he is like really good at it and I'm absolutely not but he is being super nice and all

And at one moment I'm asking for his name and he asks for mine and then he gets a bit more physical, like touching my waist and everything. But you know it's the first time I'm having attention from someone and I'm not lying I absolutely loved it !

Anyways I'm not here complaining about what happened not at all, I'm just saying that was one of the best night of my life

Now the thing is that he lives really far away, he is a bit older (but really not too much so it's fine) and when we stopped dancing because I had to go he told me "so this is the end?" To which I respond "apparently, but it doesn't have to. You could ask for my insta" and so we talk a bit more and I'm about to leave when he pulls out his phone and ask me for it

So I just type my account in leaving him the choice and leave him (yes I did turned to look back at him one more time bcs i read to many romance book (and yes he was still looking at me!!))

But now here is the thing : I kinda want to talk to him bcs he left me a huge impression, but tbh we danced for like 20min even a bit less and I have a serious mental problem which is : I get attached WAY TOO QUICKLY

So I was almost head over heels for a man I just met and was imagining I was going to marry him (wtf is wrong with me ?!)

Now we're 2 days after, I sent him a text

"Hey it was nice dancing with you last night"

To which he responded

"No problem, it was nice for me too"

And I just liked his text bcs I DONT KNOW who to flirt. Anyway if anyone also gets attached like me to literally anyone and if you have a solution PLEASE tell me cause I can't keep up with all the heartbreaks.

[theultrablog]

Pulp Storytime #20: The Shadow Over Kafiristan by Gareth Hanrahan

The hopheads and juicers seemed far out… And they were. Adapting modules is often a challenge. The default version of this adventure is set in the 2010s in Afghanistan, from a British perspective. In this version, we focused on Javid, an Afghani sniper who fought the British...in 1935. So the entire first third of the module went out the window. It still went great though! (Especially since I lost two players an hour before game time and had to switch over from my Hawaiian adventure.) The group was in a remote village in Afghanistan, a place known for mysticism and strangeness. Javid had gathered his outsider friends for some tense political dealing: tribal loyalty and alliances could easily cascade and disrupt the currently peaceful nation. This time Javid, Aleksandra Pavlovic (the tour guide from the Ireland adventure), Inspector M’tombe, and Querida Wilcox were joined by the Negro League's first female pitcher, Connie Johnson. Young and with a chip on her shoulder, she excelled at all physical and charm challenges, but seemed the most flabbergasted by the ridiculousness around her. And it was ridiculous! The village, despite being above the snow line, grew fields of blinding white poppies. The leader of the tribe, Alga Alkhan, was followed around by pshur, or wise man, who seemed to be tuned to the wrong frequency. An afternoon of tea and sympathy with M'tombe revealed a startling truth: the pshur was at the back and call of mysterious spirits! Meanwhile, the players made adequate first impressions but were banned from the temple at the top of a nearby peak. Locals only. No exceptions. The ban didn’t last long. A mortar attack from a rival tribe interrupted the welcoming feast, nearly exploding the party. Another pshur said to follow her in a strange, British voice. Most of the group did, with Javid returning sniper fire and helping defend the village. A ball of opium in a brazier led the players to a city… I might as well let the module describe it. (It’s the only module I’ve ever run where I wish there was more gray box text!)

The smoke grabs your mind and whisks it far, far awake. You feel euphoric, lighter than air and full of energy. It’s wonderful. You—all of you—find yourselves in a marvellous sunset city. The streets glitter in the orange light of the setting sun. Minarets and elegantly curved domes are outlined against the purple sky. The music of flutes and delicate bells can be heard in the distance. In a square, you see some of the people of this wonderful city. They are all young and beautiful, dressed in rich robes or nothing at all.

The players met Daniel Dravot. He first arrived in the village in 1894, on a mission from her Majesty, but was betrayed by his partner ‘Peachey’ Carnehan, who left him with the mystics. Not wanting a political incident, they kept him physically alive but banished him to the city. Could everyone be so dear as to retrieve his body, reunite it with his soul, and get him out of here? The group agreed, although Connie let out an opportune “What mystic nonsense is this?” What followed was a series of mindfucks, interrupted by intense mountain climbing. The temple? Guarded by a single monk, staffed by three sages high on opium. Inside it was a pit, filled with corpses of those who have been sacrificed while high on the drug, their spirits ascended to the secret city to serve as aides and courtesans. The detective, not squeamish, investigated the pit. He emerged with what he was looking for: a British skull and a cigarette case labeled DD. They had been talking to a dead man. Miss Pavlovic, master of ancient languages, decoded a painting deep in the temple. The hidden city wasn’t a drug haze, it was a flicker in the mind of a mad god. Anyone suffused with the local poppies had their mind trapped and eventually stolen. And the 300-person village was eager to sell its goods throughout the nation. The final pshur was an ageless initiate, threatening to throw a ball of opium into a nearby fire pit. Cowgirl Querida lassoed it away from him. The numbers advantage still favored the party. In the temple, at least. The big challenge was lying their way out of the village. Javid’s heroics, combined with a series of denials and pantomimes, paid off. The group had merely climbed the mountain to chase infiltrators! Who they slew! The next step was bribing local warlords to raze the poppy crop and salt the earth. The villagers could be paid and integrated into other tribes, but the mountain had to be abandoned. Then the players had another idea. (So, I mentioned that the module was adapted, and that gets rid of the last fifth of the module as well. In the original, the agents have to justify their behavior to a Department that knows full well about extraplanar entities. I was out of adventure. But the players were sharp.) "So the only other person who knew about the plants was 'Peachey’ Carnehan, right?" Asked the tour guide. Silence. The players called in favors and did some excellent investigating to find him at his manor house in Sussex. After being greeted, announced and fed, all the players had to do was convince a retired British spy to admit culpability based on specious evidence. Easy. (That’s right, social combat! The new players hadn’t played Fate before. Unlike other systems, it’s relatively easy to improvise any kind of combat, whether social or mountaineering.) It took a while for the players to even pierce their foe’s defenses. He buffeted the agéd inspector with compliments. Querida’s insinuations were met with performative fogginess. Abashed and confused, the players scoured his gallery for clues. That’s when they discovered their host’s weakness: flattery. Connie, used to sucking up to team owners and sponsors, started complementing his sporting equipment... The arquebus, the fencing sabers, the Bengal rug. Javid and the inspector, who tried threats, were 'politely' asked to stand outside and wait for a cab. The others were given a tour and assured, after a bit of whiskey, that the smoky death cult would stay out of Peachey's memoirs. Aleksandra Pavlovic was created by JC Connors:

[fickle-finances-anon]

I definitely missed this with how quickly it posted.

The fight and my feelings about it are a complicated situation. If anyone cares to see a fuller explanation I will try to explain here. I initially didn't add a lot of details about the fight because it's long and only tangentially related because it affects my feelings about going to the concert with her.

@am-i-the-asshole-official

To answer some INFO requests and general advice given:

1. I cannot talk to her as of this time. Her unstated boundary was that I am not to try and contact her, which took me a month to figure out after she told a mutual friend it felt like I was trying to break her boundaries by just trying to reach out to apologize. I appreciate the advice to ask her or put the ball in her court, but it's not feasible at the moment. Other friends are already involved but I've made it clear to all of them I want my friend to confront me directly and I won't explain myself through them.

2. I already asked my gf. She said no because loud music gives her a headache. :[ she's already an angel for putting up with the music to support me at drag shows 🤍

3. I wasn't planning to do this immediately. Ideally, if reconciliation happens, I would love to still go with her.

So, an explanation of how I was too honest and blew up my friendship with my best friend.

We both like to go to a Drag Race watch party at our local gay bar. We were there, talking with friends and having fun watching the new episode. During a commercial break she said she wanted to go get food and go home. When the episode ended, she changed her mind and wanted to stay and dance. This started the seeds of me just being annoyed that night.

We stayed and danced and drank on empty stomachs. And she got talking to a lot of people, including an older woman she'd met there before. I am not as social as she is and it was getting late. I didn't tell her I wanted to go home, my mistake.

Eventually my friend starts flirting with this older woman, leaving me awkwardly talking to the woman's friend. We'll call her G. G rubbed me the wrong way. My first impression was just very negative. G is not a bad person. She was talking at me like someone she didn't want flirting with her. So I made a point of explaining that I'm in a relationship so she would chill out. She still said I should dress differently and that even though she thinks I'm ugly that doesn't mean I'm completely unattractive. 🙄 horrible first impression. I do not like G.

My friend starts kissing the woman she's flirting with. Not two seconds later she's flirting with and making out with G. Its now 1:30am. They make out until the bar closes.

I got very tired and upset. Upset enough that my bartender friend checked up on me twice and found me crying. I tried to text my friend asking if I could leave her with G if she was going home with her. She ignores my texts and I am not having a good time.

When we finally leave, she doesn't go home with G. And I try to explain that I'm upset with way more than her marathon makeout session.

A few days later I'm back at the bar for Karaoke night and am surprised when my friend is there with G. Because I thought she was in a different city entirely. I try to stay out of their way, recognizing a date when I see one. G asks to hug me, three times without getting a response, then proceeds to hug me anyway. And then hugs me again two more times. And I was pissed.

So my friend and I have a smaller fight where I explain that I don’t like G at all and she crossed my personal space boundaries. We have a night where we get together to discuss all of the tension that's been building in our friendship. My friend says that we're good when she leaves and I stupidly believed her.

The part where I know I was the asshole, although I believe I was justified, is that I said I can't have fun going out with my friend anymore because she always changes her mind and gets too drunk so I get pushed into being the sober driver, and I expressed my concern that G doesn't understand basic boundaries and I was scared she might assault my best friend.

Apparently this was a sign of "jealousy". Days after this my best friend stops talking to me out of the blue, ditches my Drag performance without a single reason why, and I go into a mental health spiral.

I learned a month later, about the time of submitting this aita that she thinks I have unrequited romantic feelings for her and that "several" of her former partners didn't like me. She think I want her to date me and I lash out at her romantic interests out of jealousy.

Finding out that this is her reason for ghosting me and not supporting my artistic endeavors enraged me. Like unhealthy levels of anger. Its taken me a long time to come around and reflect on her feelings from hearing the things I said and adding up a lot of what her dates said about me.

Things she made up:

She claimed I got upset about G "monopolizing her time" on the Karaoke night. I honestly tried to stay out of their way and only got upset when my friend left the bar without telling me she wasn't coming back. I was not upset that she was on a date and I happened to be at the same bar that night.

She also claims that I am refusing getting a therapist. This is also incorrect because I just don't know what's covered by my health benefits. I would love a therapist to bitch about my life to.

She gave one of our mutual friends the impression that I was using Drag performance as a way to escape from mental issues and express being a trans individual! This is a wildly simplistic and incorrect view of my gender, and because I am not completely out of the closet, it was inappropriate of her to discuss with this friend without my consent. I am deeply hurt by both her and this mutual friend gossipping about my gender behind my back. However, I have had a chance to talk with the mutual friend about her part in it and we're back on good terms again.

She claims I have romantic feelings and want to kiss her. This is also incorrect! I have a girlfriend who I get to kiss very much. I haven't told my gf yet but I'm very much falling in love with her. I'm not poly. My feelings toward my friend are platonic. I was worried for her safety and she took it to be jealousy. And the real kicker? Months before I met my gf, I was on a vacation with two couples and was very much a fifth wheel. Their antics and my own messed up brain chemistry made me very suicidal that week. So I called my best friend and she helped talk me down several nights that week. During one of our talks, I expressed frustration at wanting to kiss a girl to see if maybe I'd repressed feelings for women my whole life. My bestie offered to kiss me to see if I would like it. While I was actively depressed enough to want to die. And that messed with my head. Especially because she often dates masc women who look like me. I was thrown into confusion on her feelings towards me. We never kissed. Best decision of my life because I met my gf pretty soon after.

I hold that its pretty fucked up to offer to kiss someone to get them to stop wanting to die, and then turn around and claim that they have feelings for you.

I understand the comment about G potentially assaulting her was hyperbolic and horrible for her to hear. I maintain that it was directly based on my personal experience of this woman ignoring my right to consent to person touch. I also understand that my comment about not having fun when we go clubbing must have also hurt. But I can't apologize for any of that until she agrees to acknowledge my existence again.

I'm convinced she hates me and won't want to reconcile, no mater my opinion on the matter. Some days the thought of her brings up boiling rage, others I hope for her to come around, ready to listen and apologize for the fucked up shit she's done.

Whatever happens, I'm not selling the ticket to a stranger or finding a new concert buddy until just before the show. Thank you for your votes and opinions, I really do appreciate the varied perspectives 🤍

WIBTA for giving away a concert ticket?

About a month ago, my best friend (29 F) of 15 years and I (28 X) worked together to buy concert tickets for our favorite band, Twenty One Pilots. In the general confusion of both of us trying to snap up decent seats, we both ended up buying two tickets each for a total of four. The pairs of seats are very far away from each other and the ones she bought are a shit view, which is why I insisted on still buying the ones I had in my cart.

Shortly after the purchases (literally same day) my friend decided to gift the two tickets she purchased to a couple of our friends as birthday gifts and promised to pay me back for the second ticket I bought. I wasn't going to ask her for the money, she just knows she's in a better financial position than I am and we got the best seats we could afford.

About a week later, we got into a fight that has snowballed into something massive. I fully admit to saying something pretty horrible that she took a lot of offense to (I know I am the asshole in this fight. That's not what my question is about). She has since stopped talking to me completely and told a mutual friend that the friendship might not be salvageable. Frankly, I think this is an over reaction because she’s not giving me a chance to apologize and never explained to me why she was upset. She claims I broke her boundaries without ever stating she had a boundary. It really hurts me that she is blaming this fight on her perception that I have unrequited romantic feelings for her, which my girlfriend is also upset and angered by. Of course I love my girlfriend romantically and my best friend platonically. But she won't hear me out and is twisting the facts to make me sound even worse to our mutual friends. But it is her prerogative if she wants to throw away our friendship. She doesn't owe me a chance to apologize or reconcile, no matter how I feel about it. I am making peace with that, slowly.

However, she never sent me money for the concert ticket. The date is months away, but I don't know if she'll want to reconcile in time for it. If I were her, I would be pissed about paying a shit ton of money for tickets and not be able to go. I have no clue if she would revoke her gift to one of our friends or not in order to go, she's not the kind of person to go back on generosity. She was my best friend because she's an amazing person, but right now, I don't want to sit next to her at a concert I payed to see. The way I see it, I have a ticket to give to whoever I want now that she refuses to be my friend.

I don't know if things will change before the concert. I know I'm a jerk for how I ruined this friendship, but would it be insult to injury to potentially prevent her from going to see TØP because of it?

WIBTA for giving away the ticket I initially bought for her?