#definitely slightly a rebel for a cause

[noseboopsanddandelionwishes]

I had so much fun reading and listening to this this morning.

What a story.

Both were important (to me) as one went in depth about the process and hours, and the other went more into the why and how.

[fafnir19]

The King-Boy

The sun shone brightly on a crisp autumn afternoon as Tristan, with a hint of reluctance, made his way from his student apartment to his family home. His strides were purposeful, yet there was an air of casualness about him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his blue varsity jacket —a signature Tristan charm.

He'd been tasked with babysitting his younger sister, Emily, and while he wasn't exactly thrilled about it, he knew it was the least he could do after rejecting his father's wishes. The tension between them was palpable; Tristan's decision to turn down the military scholarship had been a sore spot, and his father's disappointment hung heavy in the air.

He knew his father wanted the best for him, but the idea of a disciplined military life never sat well with Tristan's free-spirited nature. He had always been a bit of a rebel, and the thought of obedience and rigid rules made him cringe. Besides, the prospect of being sent to war zones, fighting for causes he didn't believe in, was not something he was willing to risk his life for.

Whatsoever today, Tristan had no choice but to put that aside and focus on Emily. Upon arriving at the cozy family home, Tristan found Emily in her pink-themed bedroom, a room that screamed 'little princess.' She sat on her bed, her curly brown locks bouncing as she eagerly awaited her brother's arrival. "Tristan!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with adoration. "You're here! Are you going to read me a story?" He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, his heart softening despite himself. "Of course, Em. What story did you have in mind?" Emily scrambled to her bookshelf and pulled out a well-worn fairy tale book. "This one! It's about a princess and an evil queen. I want to know if the princess gets saved." Sighing, Tristan sat on the edge of the bed, his varsity jacket creasing slightly.

"Alright, let's see what this princess is up to." He opened the book, his deep voice filling the room as he began to read. "Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a beautiful princess..." As Tristan narrated the tale, Emily's eyes grew wide with wonder. The story was one of adventure and peril, where the princess was captured by an evil queen with magical powers. Brave knights attempted to rescue her, but many fell victim to the queen's dark magic, transformed into creatures or slain by her guards. Tristan's voice took on a dramatic tone, bringing the characters to life. "The king, desperate to save his daughter, sought a brave soul who could break the curse. But all who tried..." He paused for effect, "...met a grim fate." Emily's attention was rapt, her small hands clasped tightly together. "Do you think anyone can save her, Tristan?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." Tristan's voice held a hint of boredom, his mind drifting to his own predicament. He, too, felt trapped, albeit in a different kind of fairy tale. "I bet you could save the princess," Emily said, her voice filled with admiration. "You're so strong and smart." A chuckle escaped Tristan's lips. "Me? Save a princess? I don't think so. I'm not the heroic type, and I'm definitely not risking my life for a stranger." Emily's face fell slightly, but her belief in her brother was unwavering. "But you're my hero, Tristan. I know you'd help her if you could." She reached into a toy box and pulled out a plastic necklace with a glittering red gem. "And with this magic necklace, you could control dragons! The princess would be saved for sure." Tristan couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. He allowed Emily to place the toy necklace around his neck, indulging her playful imagination. “Thanks, Emily," he said and played along. "I'll keep it safe until the right prince comes along."

As Tristan continued reading, Emily's eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep. As Tristan sat there, the gem at his neck began to glow, emitting a soft light that illuminated the room. Startled, he reached for the necklace, but before he could grasp it, a whirlwind of magic engulfed him and a blinding flash transported him into the very fairy tale he had been reading. He found himself in a grand hall of a castle, its high ceilings and ornate columns a stark contrast to Emily's cozy room. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the sound of distant trumpets echoed through the halls. Tristan, now dressed in a blue velvet jerkin, tight white pants, and golden riding boots, stood in awe, taking in his new surroundings.

"Noble Tristan, what a blessing that you are here to free my daughter!" A deep voice startled him, and he turned to face a regal figure—the king himself. Tristan's heart raced, realizing he was now a part of the very story he had been reading. Although surprised by the king's knowledge of his name, Tristan maintained his composure. He had no intention of playing the hero, but he recognized this as his chance to find a way back home. Feigning interest, he played along, knowing this was his ticket to finding the elusive queen. "Your Majesty, I am at your service. I shall do whatever it takes to aid in the princess's rescue." His mind, however, was already plotting his escape from this fantastical realm. "But first, I must ask, where might I find the queen?" The king's eyes narrowed, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The queen, with her dark magic, resides in a castle beyond the northern mountains.” Delighted by Tristan's willingness, the king revealed his plan. "We have learned of a secret passage that leads directly to the Queen's castle. if you can distract her, my men will sneak into her castle and rescue my daughter." Tristan just nodded.

And so, with the king's guidance, Tristan embarked on his quest, riding through enchanted forests and crossing mystical rivers. The journey was not without its perils, but the young man's determination kept him focused.

Finally, the majestic castle of the evil Queen loomed before them. Guards, clad in dark armor, escorted Tristan while he strode through the castle's halls, his boots echoing on the stone floors. The throne room loomed ahead, and as he entered, the evil Queen's laughter echoed off the walls, sending shivers down his spine. "Ah, another brave soul, come to rescue the princess?" she cackled, her eyes sparkling with malevolence. "Do you not fear the fate of those who came before you?" Tristan stood tall, his voice steady. "I do not seek the princess, my lady. I have a more personal request. I wish to return home, and I was told you might hold the key to my freedom." The Queen's eyes narrowed, her interest piqued. "And why should I assist you, young man? What could you possibly offer me?" Tristan leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Knowledge, my lady. I have learned of a secret plan—an invasion of your castle. If you help me, I can provide details that might save countless lives." The Queen's laughter filled the room and the knowledge of his impending betrayal only added to her amusement. "You would betray your king for your own gain? How delightfully cunning. Very well, young Tristan, I shall send you home, but first, share with me these secrets." Tristan revealed the king's plan, his words flowing freely. The Queen listened intently, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she realized the extent of the betrayal. Within hours, the queen's forces had captured every man involved.

Tristan, stood before the evil Queen, his once indifferent demeanor now laced with a hint of nervousness. He had played his part, revealing the King's plan, and now awaited his reward—a passage back to his world.

The Queen's smirk sent a chill down his spine. Delighted by Tristan's treachery, she was offering him a place by her side. "Don't you want to stay and explore the wonders of this realm? You could be a revered knight, admired by all." Her words were tempting, playing on his desire for admiration. But Tristan's reluctance to commit to anything beyond his self-interest remained steadfast. "A knight? No, thank you, Your Majesty. To die on some battlefield, fighting for a cause that isn't mine? I'd rather not end up a casualty of war.  I want to return home." His response was laced with a hint of sarcasm, a remnant of his mischievous nature.

The Queen's eyes narrowed, her amusement turning to intrigue. "Very well, Tristan. To go home, you must kiss me and voice your wish." As the words left her lips, Tristan couldn't help but grin. *So this is how it's done in fairy tales*, he thought, amused by the cliché. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was innocent at first, a mere formality to seal their agreement. But as their lips touched, a spark ignited within Tristan, a sensation he had never known before. His body responded with a hunger he couldn't control. His cock throbbed against the confines of his pants, straining against the fabric. The Queen, sensing his arousal, broke the kiss and ran her fingers along his jawline, her touch sending waves of pleasure through him. "My, my, what have we here?" she purred, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. With deliberate slowness, she began to undress him, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his jerkin and sliding it off his shoulders. Tristan stood before her, naked and exposed, his cock standing erect, a testament to his desire. The Queen positioned herself on her throne, her dress pooling around her like a dark cloud. She spread her legs, revealing her moist core, and beckoned him with a tilt of her head. Tristan needed no further invitation. He moved towards her, his cock leading the way, and thrust into her with a rhythm that spoke of his urgency. "Yes, my noble Tristan, show me your strength," she crooned, her voice laced with encouragement. "Show me how you wield your sword." Her words spurred him on, and he fucked her with increasing fervor. The throne creaked with each powerful thrust, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Tristan's breath came in ragged gasps as he neared his climax. "I'm so close," he moaned, his voice hoarse with desire. The Queen matched his rhythm, her hips rising to meet his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Show me, Tristan. Show me the power of your sword." With a final, powerful thrust, Tristan reached his climax, his body shuddering as he released himself deep within her. He cried out, a sound that was part pleasure and part surprise, as he experienced a release unlike any he had known before.

Spent, he collapsed at the Queen's feet, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

The Queen, still seated on the throne, looked down at him with a satisfied smile. Her hand reached out, stroking his flaccid cock. To his surprise, he felt himself respond, his cock twitching back to life and slowly stiffening once more. "Oh, my dear Tristan," she cooed, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "I see you are not yet done. Are you wishing to put your sword in my service, Tristan?" she asked, her voice laced with both power and seduction. She knew full well the power of her words, the double meaning they held. Tristan, still dazed from the intensity of his orgasm, didn't fully comprehend her words. He assumed she was referring to his cock, and without hesitation, he answered, "Yes, my Queen." A grin played around the queen's lips, because she had him right where she wanted! She reveled in the thought that Tristan has just unwittingly pledged himself to her. "Welcome, my knight," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "And how far might you go to serve me, my loyal subject?" Her tone was light, almost playful, but the undercurrent of power was unmistakable. The question caught Tristan off guard. But before he could process his response, the words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them, as if some unseen force guided his tongue. "I would die for you, my Queen." He froze, shocked by his own declaration and the consequences of it slowly dawning on him. Had he just agreed to become her knight? To serve and protect her, even at the cost of his own life? How could he, the very embodiment of youthful reluctance, offer such a profound sacrifice? His mouth had betrayed him, speaking words he never would have uttered under normal circumstances. The realization hit him like a slap. He had just pledged his life to this woman, this evil enchantress. As if reading his thoughts, the Queen chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, my dear Tristan, you have just become my knight. Your fate is sealed, and your loyalty is now unwavering." His agreement to serve her with his 'sword' had triggered a spell, binding him to her will. Tristan's mind raced as he tried to process what was happening. He had never been one to commit wholeheartedly to a cause, especially one as dangerous as knighthood. But now, under the Queen's spell, his thoughts were transforming. The idea of fighting on the battlefield, of risking his life for her, no longer filled him with dread but with a sense of purpose and honor. And strangely, the thought of dying for her made his cock twitch with desire.

The queen's eyes narrowed, a mixture of amusement and triumph dancing in their depths. She had sensed the change in him, the magic coursing through his veins. "Excellent, my knight. Your devotion is... inspiring." She rose from her throne, her movements graceful and calculated. "Come, let us prepare you for your new role." As if in a trance, he followed her, his steps steady and sure, as if he had always been destined for this path. She led him to a nearby chamber. The marble floor of the chamber was cold against Tristan's bare feet as he followed the queen, his body still glistening with sweat from their passionate encounter. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, and the flickering torchlight cast an eerie glow on the stone walls, creating an atmosphere that both intrigued and unnerved him. At the center of the room, a massive bathtub, carved from pure white marble, awaited them, its surface shimmering with steam. The queen, dressed in her elegant black dress, stood by the tub, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. Tristan's heart quickened as he realized the vulnerability of his nakedness in contrast to her fully-clothed form. It was a stark reminder of the power she held over him, a power he had willingly surrendered. "Step in, my knight," she purred, her voice laced with a command he couldn't refuse. Obediently, Tristan approached the tub and lowered himself into the hot, soothing water.

The queen knelt beside the bath, her fingers trailing along his skin, sending shivers down his spine. She held a sponge, dripping with fragrant soap, and began to wash him with slow, deliberate strokes. "You have served me well, Tristan," she whispered, her breath warm on his neck. "And I shall reward you." Her words sent a thrill through him, but it was not the promise of a reward that made his heart race. It was the touch of her hands, the intimacy of this moment, and the knowledge that he was entirely at her mercy. She washed his shoulders, her fingers kneading the tense muscles, and then moved down his arms, her touch both gentle and possessive. As the sponge glided over his chest and arms, he felt a tingling sensation, and his breath caught. His body hair, once a source of pride, was disappearing, leaving his skin smooth and flawless. The queen's magic was at work, transforming him, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement at the loss of his former self. Her hands traveled lower, and she cupped his balls, "Your manhood will be a symbol of your dedication." His balls, once heavy and low, began to shrink and tighten, moving upwards as if drawn by an invisible force. It was a strange, almost pleasurable sensation, and he found himself grinning. "My Queen, what... what are you doing to me?" "Ah, my knight, you are becoming more perfect by the moment," she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "These shrunken, transformed balls will keep you youthful forever. A fitting gift for my loyal servant." Tristan shuddered, his cock hardening at her words. The idea of being her eternal servant, a plaything, should have terrified him, but instead, he felt a rush of excitement. He had become her pleasure tool, and the thought of being nothing more than an object of her desire sent a wave of arousal through him. "Do you like what you see, my knight?" she asked, her fingers tracing the outline of his hardening cock through the water. "Do you like how I've made you?" "Yes, my Queen," he replied, his voice hoarse with desire. "I belong to you." She smiled, a triumphant gleam in her eyes, and continued her bathing ritual, ensuring every inch of his skin was touched by her magic. The water grew cooler, and she helped him out of the tub, her hands never leaving his body. She dried him with a soft cloth, her movements slow and sensual, as if she were savoring every moment. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she produced the outfit of a knight, but with a seductive twist. The black leather pants she offered him were tight, hugging his legs like a second skin, and he felt a surge of power as he slid them on. No underwear, just his bare skin against the leather. The jerkin, black velvet with a plunging neckline, framed his chest, leaving it exposed to her gaze. "Dress, my knight," she commanded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me see my creation." Tristan complied, pulling on the pants, feeling the soft leather caress his skin. His cock strained against the material, the outline clearly visible but he no longer cared about modesty. The queen had taken that from him, replacing it with a constant state of arousal. He donned the jerkin, feeling the velvet brush against his nipples, now sensitive to the slightest touch. "Perfect, you are the embodiment of my desires. A bold knight, ready for battle, and a youthful pleasure boy, eager to serve." she whispered, running her hands over his chest and down his stomach, lingering on the bulge in his pants.

Tristan looked down at himself, his body a perfect blend of strength and sensuality. He was no longer the hesitant jock; he was a creation of the queen's making, designed for fighting and fucking.

The thought should have been alarming, but instead, it excited him. "Your transformation is complete, my knight. From now on, you will serve me, and the very thought of sacrificing your life for me will bring you pleasure." The queen's eyes sparkled with triumph. "You are mine, Tristan, body and soul." He stood tall, his body humming with newfound energy, his mind already embracing the destiny she had envisioned for him. Tristan's reluctance and indifference had vanished, replaced by a burning desire to please his queen, to fight and fuck in her name. As he left the chamber, his footsteps confident, he couldn't help but grin, his eyes gleaming with a newfound lust for life—or perhaps, more accurately, a lust for death in the service of his dark and enchanting queen.

Eighty years had passed since that fateful day when her brother, Tristan, had vanished, leaving nothing but a trail of unanswered questions. The pain of his disappearance had dulled over time, but the memories remained vivid, especially the one of him reading to her from a fairy tale book, a cherished moment before he vanished without a trace. Now, in the twilight of her life, Emily found herself in a senior home, sipping lukewarm tea, a far cry from the warm and lively household she once knew. She had long given up complaining about the temperature of her tea, knowing the nurses wouldn't heed her requests. But on this particular day, as she reached for a faded fairy tale book, a surge of nostalgia and curiosity overcame her. It was the fairy tale book that Tristan had always read to her. The pain of his disappearance too raw to bear, she had avoided the book for decades, for it was the last thing Tristan had read to her before his sudden absence. But now, as she approached the end of her journey on this earth, she felt prepared to revisit the story. "It's time to finally finish the story, Tristan," she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of determination and sorrow.

As she turned the pages, a bittersweet smile crept across her face. She noticed the peculiar coincidence of the protagonist's name, Tristan, identical to her brother's. It was as if the author had known her brother, capturing his essence in the character's deeds and demeanor.

The tale spoke of a young man, noble and brave, who found himself entangled in a web of magic and deceit. This Tristan, like her brother, was charismatic and confident, his charm effortlessly drawing people to him. But there was a darkness to this fictional Tristan, a mirror of the flaws Emily knew all too well in her brother. The tale spoke of Tristan's betrayal of the king, a deceitful act committed for personal gain. Emily's eyes widened as she read, for she saw her brother's actions in this fictional betrayal. It was a trait she had witnessed in him—a tendency to prioritize his interests, sometimes at the expense of others. She thought back to the countless times Tristan had charmed his way out of trouble, his mischievous smile belying a clever mind. "How could he betray the king and the princess?" she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of disappointment and understanding. In her heart, she believed that the queen's magic, which bound Tristan to her service, was a fitting punishment for his treachery. It was a harsh lesson in loyalty and honor, one that her brother had seemingly failed to learn. Yet, as the story progressed, Emily's disgust grew. The ease with which Tristan succumbed to the queen's enchantment, becoming her knight and, worse, her pleasure boy, was unsettling. She had always known her brother to be a charmer, but this... this was different.

The tale continued, revealing that Tristan's free spirit could not be contained for long. He rallied the queen's warriors, turning them against her, and in a twist of fate, he became their leader. With cunning and guile, he tricked the queen, a common trope in ancient fairy tales. But Tristan's punishment was cruel; he had the queen shackled in red-hot iron, forcing her to grant his every wish. Yet, despite his efforts, he remained trapped in his youthful form, forever horny and without a trace of modesty. He ruled the realm with a youthful vigor, conquering other kingdoms and earning the title 'King-Boy'.

Emily's heart fluttered as she read these words, unsure if she was thinking of the fictional Tristan or her brother. "He always did have a way of getting himself into peculiar situations," she sighed, a mixture of fondness and exasperation in her voice. A tear escaped, rolling down her wrinkled cheek, as she remembered her brother's playful smile and the sound of his laughter.

As Emily's fingers brushed the final page, the ancient binding began to glow, emitting a crimson light that illuminated the room. A figure emerged from its pages —her brother, Tristan! Emily's breath caught in her throat as she beheld a young man, no older than nineteen, with a mischievous glint in his eye, his attire a blend of fantasy and allure. He was dressed in enchanted knight attire, his black leather pants hugging his legs, and a black velvet jerkin showcasing his chest. His blond hair, once neatly styled, now held a slight wave, and his piercing blue eyes had softened with a lustful gleam.

"Tristan?" Emily whispered, her voice trembling. The young man smiled, and it was a smile she knew all too well. "Hello, Emily. It seems you've been reading about my adventures." His voice carried a hint of amusement, and he strode into the room with the confidence of royalty. “I've missed your company." His gaze, once indifferent, now held a mischievous glint, as if he relished the surprise he had caused. Emily's eyes welled up with tears of joy and relief. She offered him the teacup, a gesture of hospitality. "Welcome home, dear brother. I'm afraid the tea isn't very warm." Tristan took the cup and frowned, his brow furrowing in a familiar manner. "Indeed, it's rather lukewarm, isn't it? I've never been one for cold tea." Emily sighed, her gaze drifting to the window. "I've complained about the tea countless times, but the nurses here never seem to listen." Tristan took the cup and walked to the door. "Maid!" he called out as a nurse hurried past the hallway. "This tea is cold!" The nurse, flustered and annoyed, stopped in her tracks. "The tea is hot enough, and I've no time for your games, young man. Mr. Williams in room 203 can't breathe, and I need to attend to him." In a swift motion Tristan poured the tea onto the nurse, startling her. "Hey!" she exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden action. "Cold tea, indeed!" he exclaimed. "If it were hot, you'd be howling in pain. Apologize, maid, for your insolence!" The nurse, to Emily's astonishment, fell to her knees, as if compelled by an unseen force. "I—I'm sorry, sir," she stammered. "Excellent," Tristan purred, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "As a merciful king, I shall grant you a chance to redeem yourself. Bring us hot tea, posthaste, and address me as my King." As the nurse scurried off, Emily's mind raced. "Tristan, what about Mr. Williams?" Playfully raising an eyebrow, Tristan feigned ignorance. ""Emily, he can no longer breathe. I doubt tea is on his mind at the moment." Emily's expression turned from concern to confusion, and then to realization. Tristan's indifference to the plight of others had not faded over the years. She took a deep breath, her emotions warring within her. "But Tristan, he might—" He cut her off, his eyes sparkling with ambition. "Do you think they'd still offer me that scholarship at the military university? I could make those generals bow with a mere glance!"

Emily's emotions battled within her. The joy of having her brother back was tempered by the realization that he hadn't changed. The same playful arrogance that had always charmed her now left her conflicted. "Tristan, you... you haven't changed a bit. But I thought..." "Changed? Why should I? The world bends to my will, and I've ruled the fairy tale realm for decades. Imagine what I could do at that military university! I've conquered countless fairy tale realms, and now, I could rule this world too." Tristan's eyes gleamed with ambition. Emily shook her head, a mixture of fondness and exasperation washing over her. "You always were stubborn, Tristan. But I'm just glad you're here. I've missed you so much." Tristan's expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, a hint of vulnerability flashed in his eyes. "I've missed you too, Emily. But enough of this sentimentality. Let's enjoy this tea and plot my return to the mortal realm. I have a kingdom to rule and a world to conquer!" As they awaited the nurse's return, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and unease. The brother she knew and loved was back, but he was also a king from a fairy tale, with all the complexities and contradictions that entailed. He spoke of conquests and power, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was the hero or the villain of his own story.

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

We end up talking for hours, completely losing track of time, and before we know it, we’re blinded as all the lights flick on at once, our dark corner suddenly bright and exposed.

“I think that’s our cue,” Ash says, squinting in the harsh fluorescent light.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

As we stand to walk out, Ash stops and asks, “So, you’ll do it? You’re in?”

“Definitely. I think it’s brilliant!” And I mean it. I haven’t been this excited to work on a project in years, his passion suddenly reigniting my own. He looks so thrilled by my response that I can’t help but smile back at him. I think I’d do just about anything if it would make him this happy.

We step out into the cool fall air, both of us still buzzing from the alcohol and the possibilities of what we can create together, walking so close that our shoulders brush up against one another, and yet it’s not close enough.

As a kid, I used to play with magnets, always fascinated by the fact that when you flip one of them around the force drives them away rather than bringing them together. I always felt like that was me, the one flipped the wrong way, forced to keep separate from everyone around me. But with Ash, I feel pulled toward him, and if there was nothing holding us back, I’m certain we’d snap right to each other. 

It would be so easy, now, to lift my arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. He’d probably let me, but then what?

I’m so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even noticed we’d reached the edge of the sidewalk, so abrupt and final, like the night is trying to end. But we rebel, both of us unwilling to say goodbye. Instead, we hesitate, turning towards each other. He looks up at me, his eyes practically silver the way they shine in the moonlight, and asks, “Now what?”

“Good question,” I say, “What do you wanna do?”

His usual smirk plays at the corner of his mouth as he steps closer, close enough now that I can feel the heat from his body radiating in the cold. I consider taking a step forward too, it wouldn’t take much, to lean in slightly and brush my lips against his just to see. See what it might feel like. Ash’s eyes draw a slow triangle from my eyes to my mouth and I realize he’s thinking about it too.

The thought seizes my body with a mix of anxiety and desire, and I’m frozen in place as he raises his hand slowly, letting it come to rest on the side of my face, just as warm as I imagined it to be. He pauses for a moment, perhaps waiting for me to stop him. When I don’t, something flashes behind his eyes, a decision.

“I want you to kiss me,” he says, the playful smirk on his lips daring me, bold and confident. But I see him. I see the way his shoulders rise and fall with short, nervous breaths. I feel the way his hand, warming my cheek, trembles just below the surface. Even still, the statement catches me off guard and a renewed storm of anxiety arcs through my entire body. I’ve never been so acutely aware of something as I am of Asher’s hand now, of the nearness of him, the way his breath feathers over my jaw and how it smells sweet, like whiskey and something else, something uniquely him. He’s so close, all I have to do is move a little, an inch maybe. His long, delicate fingers stroke the side of my face softly, reassuringly, keeping me grounded in place, keeping me present in this moment with him, and saving me from being lost in the sea of my own thoughts.

I shift my gaze down to his mouth and lift my hand to his jaw, running my thumb along the ridge of his lower lip, causing him to part them slightly and let out a small shuddering sigh. Then I look him in the eyes, giving him a slight, almost imperceptible, smile as I lean in.

Taking my time, I brush my lips lightly against his before kissing him softly. Holding myself back, not because I’m unsure, but because I’ve never been more certain of anything. I want to savor this moment, commit it to memory so I can revisit it tomorrow, and every day after.

A thrill runs through me when he kisses me back, not that I doubted he would. It was his idea, after all.

He follows my lead at first, but he’s not one to be cautious or restrained, and soon he’s pulling me closer to him, wanting something more. He drags his teeth along my lower lip in a surprising move, but I suppose this is what it’s like to kiss him, wild and overconfident, passionate and assertive, just like him.

The sensation makes me weak, and a small moan escapes me which seems to ignite something between us. We yank each other closer, snapping to each other, as our kisses become deeper and more desperate, and the world around us falls away until there is nothing else. Nothing but this, feeling, sensation and touch and taste and smell. Lips, tongues, and hands under the shimmering glow of the moonlight.

Prev // Next

[jaidens]

You got that Long Hair, Slicked Back, White T-Shirt - Dallas Winston ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

“James Dean day dream look in your eyes,”

pairing [s] : Dallas (Dally) Winston x Soc!Reader

warnings [s] : smoking | making out | beginning action of sex (pulling off pieces of clothes, humping, etc..) |

a/n [s] : my requests are open!!

wc : 1,076

When the famous Greaser; Dallas Winston approached you, you were confused about his actions. Why was he of all people asking you if you had anything planned that Saturday? Of course, people thought he was handsome. Cherry, your best friend, had told you even though she thought he was cute and that if he came back around she'd fall in love with him. So, you gave him a chance.

He had taken you to a small diner around the middle of the ‘territories’. You never believed in the whole hatred between the classes. Your best friend when you were in elementary school had been a Greaser before she moved away from Tulsa.

The first date was nice and sweet. He had worn a cleaned-up white wife-beater and a slick leather jacket. You had worn a small, flower-printed dress and your black wedges. Dallas called you beautiful and set his hand on your lower back. It was protective, showing other people that you were his and to back off.

That's when you knew you had fallen in love with him. When you stared into his eyes as he shared a milkshake with you. When he gave you his leather jacket after the wispy, cold November wind went through the soft, white cardigan you thought would be enough. That was the night he kissed you on the porch of your Daddy’s house. As well as the same night you shared the three words that changed your life, “I love you”.

You had been dating for twelve months and you were celebrating your anniversary at the same diner you had your first date at. You decided to go on a late-night drive in his Thunderbird. You had stopped at a cliff waterfall and watched the sunset. Now, he was smoking a cigarette while you lay on his shoulder with his leather jacket draped over your body. “Hey.. you awake?” His New York accent filled your ears pleasantly. “Yes, Love. Why?” You answered and picked your head up to stare as best as you could with your neck pulled up.

“Wanna hit?” He asked, holding the cigarettes closer to your lips. You shook your head no. You were never fond of smoking ever since your mother developed a horrible cough due to smoking. He smirked and said it was fine you didn't want to. Dallas put his cancer stick out and pulled your face into his. He kissed you desperately and you pushed your head against his.

His tongue touched your lips, tasting the cherry lipstick that you wore that night. It was always his favorite, and it gave him an excuse to “taste your lipstick” to make out with you. “It always tastes so good, you and your cherry lipstick baby..” Dallas groaned out and put his hands in your styled hair.

You jumped up and pulled yourself into his lap. His hands fell to your hips and he started helping you move back and forth. “Baby.. take it slow. You can take me back to your house whenever we do it..” You spoke out, after pulling away from sucking his face to take a breath. You stared into his half-lidded eyes that had lust slowly sucking into them.

His dark eyes followed around your face, admiring your slightly bruised lips and the lipstick that was smeared around your face. “Y’know you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen?” Dally was always a romantic, trying to make you cover your face in embarrassment or start giggling at his compliments. He got a total kick out of making you smile brightly and rub your soft thighs together. “Oh hush, Dal. Acting like you aren't the hottest and absolute hunk of a guy? Can't believe I'm dating you.. a James Dean duplicate.”

Dallas could've sworn that was the best compliment anyone could've given him. He had definitely based his look on the James Dean hit movie, “Rebel Without A Cause”. “With your slick back hair.. the white t-shirt.. could you be less obvious, baby?” You smiled at him and kissed his nose. “My James Dean boy..”

Dallas laughed and threw his head back. “You caught me, didn't you? But, now I gotta ask, who's hotter, me or Dean?” He watched your expression change as you started thinking deeply. “To be honest.. you. I'm not into blonde guys. I love myself a certain brunette boy.” You saw Dally’s eyes light up and he showed off his iconic smirk. “Oh yeah? Who’s that baby?” 

You pushed him backward in the seat and started kissing him again. You wiped that tease smirk that he gave you right off his face. It starts going further, and you slowly put your hands under his white shirt running across the firm abs he had been working on. The windows of his car started to become foggy, heating up with you and Dallas’ passion and love. Your limbs tangled up together as he started to kiss down your neck.

His hand travels past your pretty dress, touching your thighs. You pull away gently once more, as another car pulls up next to you. You know this is Dallas’ spot for taking you. It wasn't uncommon to see someone Dallas knew almost every time. You both look over, seeing his old high school friend and the friend's girlfriend. His hand touches your face making you look back over. The soft glow of the midnight moon casts a beautiful look on his face. You’re absolutely obsessed with him. The way he makes your heart rate speed up whenever he touches you, the way he’s touched every part of you and still makes you get excited to see him. 

This moment will forever be etched into your souls. 

As the intensity of their makeout session peaked, Dallas and you found yourselves breathless, lips lingering in a final, lingering kiss. Your bodies pressed against each other, the warmth and electricity of their connection still pulsating between them.

Dallas gently brushed his fingers along your cheek, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. "You're something else, darlin'," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I can't get enough of you.” You're staring into his dark brown eyes with a soft look. “I can’t either, Dally. You’re my forever.” You fall into a last kiss with him as you pull the switch to pull the seats back up. “Let’s get me home before my Daddy kills you. He probably will either way..”

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi Petri, soooo I just finished Dead man walking and already (not that soon though, cause I know you have many requests to get through) need a part 2 because this is my new favorite thing, I love it, you did amazing (as always <3).

You can do whatever you want for part 2 but I wish you could do a little scene where the reader is trying to figure something about her job out and Gally is there just staring at her, and how beautiful she looks when concentrated,and they're just flirting and having fun. Also please do a lot of Fry teasing them because I absolutely love it.

Yes, absolutely, I can.

Love my boy Gally.

Sorry I've been MIA.

DEAD MAN WALKING PT. 2

MASTERLIST | GALLY MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2

SUMMARY: See above. Continuation from part 1. Time skip to the Safe Haven.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, Frypan bullying Gally, awkward tension, you not being sure what to do with yourself, reference to Chuck's death. WICKED being WCKD because movie. Newt's dead. Rip.

The past few weeks have been a blur of chaos and emotion.

You'd arrived at the Safe Haven. But, you were the only person left from the rebels.

Lawrence stormed the City, destroying and setting fire to everything, which was not the plan. And not something you agreed with.

You'd split off and made your own way through the City, managing to bump into Gally on his way to their escape ship. His group had taken some blows.

They'd lost Newt to the Flare. Teresa got swallowed by a burning building. Thomas had been shot. Minho had been deeply traumatised at WCKD's hands.

Life hadn't been easy on these kids. But at least they're safe now.

And so are you, even if you're permanently having some kind of identity crisis due to too much free time and losing your rebellious means.

But, hey, you've still got Gally, at least.

Well, sort of.

Things have been painful awkward since your kiss in the Last City.

It's no one's fault in particular. You've been moving a hundred miles an hour your entire life, and now you get shouted at for finishing your work too quickly, and you're not really sure how to deal with people when you're not bossing them around or being bossed around.

And, Gally is just generally terrible at feelings.

It's actually mildly concerning, sometimes.

Which has led to a weirdly tense friendship where neither of you really know what you're doing.

It's a painful watch.

And you kinda sorta forgot that Gally is still a slightly awkward teenage boy with no experience with women.

It's definitely an experience; but on the bright side, you've become an honorary Glader. Sure, you don't understand the slang still, and you have to remember to not ask too much about the Maze or some of the people because you'll be met with several PTSD induced panic attacks. But, you've befriended them.

Minho is funny and sarcastic and incredibly tough.

Frypan is sweet, and also kind of funny. And he's an excellent cook despite what the other boys say.

Thomas is bold and determined, even taking a bit of a leadership role alongside Vince - even after his well-deserved break.

And whilst Brenda and Jorge aren't quite Gladers, you also like them quite a bit. Jorge reminds you of Lawrence in a way. He's rebellious and bold, but instead of cold and occasionally terrifying, he's funny and fraternal. And Brenda is kind of like you in a way, except she's playful. Which you have severely been lacking in the last few years of your life.

Yet, despite integrating into his friend group, his new home, his daily life - yours and Gally's relationship is still at a weird standstill.

So, you've decided to dive into work. Helping Vince is an easy way to clear your mind, and helping out people who've suffered under WCKS's hands is kind of your speciality.

You prepare blankets, clean, help Frypan in the kitchen, help with building plans, settle petty disputes; you name it, you do it.

And that's something Gally has always admired about you.

"Oi, shank, you're starin' again." Frypan says, snickering as he sits next to Gally, the light from the flames bouncing off his face.

Bonfires are an almost nightly occurrence at the Safe Haven. A celebration of their freedom and security. But, it's a bittersweet experience for the remaining Gladers. Memories of happier times dance in the fires of community. They always thought escaping the Maze would be the end, but they often find themselves remembering simpler times.

You don't share the same heartfelt irony.

"I'm not starin'." Gally grumbles back, yet his eyes still linger on you.

You walk around, handing out drinks and occasionally adding to the fire, making small talk; mainly with Vince, Thomas, and Brenda. You also occasionally take grimances sips of Gally's special brew - another festivity bought from the remains of the Maze.

"Uh huh, sure you aren't." Frypan chuckles as he sips his drink, a beat passing between the boys. "I don't get it. You guys kissed. Like, you kissed an actual girl. And now... what?"

Gally sighs, dropping his head as he speaks in a grumbled tone. "I... I don't know, man. She's... she was my boss. She saved my life. You know she found me in the Maze and-"

"And did everything to patch you up. Took you under her wing. Yeah, yeah, we know, we get it." Frypan rolls his eyes, knowing the story off by heart. "You clearly care about her, so why not actually doing something about it?"

"She hasn't done anything about it."

"Uh, yeah, she did."

"When?"

"When she shuckin' kissed you, slinthead."

Gally falls silent for a moment, eyes landing back on you. It's everything about you; your hair, your eyes, your smile, the way you hold yourself, your passion - everything.

"...I don't wanna shuck it up, Fry."

Frypan's eyes land on his friend, the teasing tone slipping away as he looks at him. "Huh? What do you mean?"

Gally anxiously taps his foot, eyes lingering on you again. He looked at you like you were a Goddess and him a feeble insect, blessed to be in your mere presence.

"Gally?" Frypan presses him, brows starting to furrow in worry.

Gally has never been good with words. He's aggressive, and scary, and dangerous. Even if he has learnt to forgive and become more humble thanks to you, it's not like he's become an expert at this. And now he has...

Feelings.

Ew.

He sighs, running his fingers through his short hair. "...I messed everything up back in the Maze. I was scared, and I acted on my own. I tried to hurt you guys, and I..." He trails off, the sound of the gunshot and Chuck hitting the floor still burnt into the back of his retinas. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I don't wanna mess this up, too."

Frypan looks at him for a few seconds, before smacking him on the back of the head.

"Klunk-! Fry! What the shuck, man?" Gally grumbles as he rubs the back of his head.

"Are you hearing yourself, shank?" Frypan leans forward on his knees. "That girl over there brought you back from the dead. She saw the potential in you and made it work. Without you, we would've never been able to save Minho, we would've never stopped WCKD - hell, we probably wouldn't even have made it here, man. Get a grip. You ain't that same sissy that spent his time buggin' out around the Glade, terrified of change. You're a hero and a rebell who risked his life for change."

Gally looks at his friend, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"And the only way that you're shucking this up, is if you sit you shank-ass here and do nothing." Frypan continues, letting the statement hang in the air for several moments.

Gally nods, churning the words over in his head.

"I'm right. Am I right, or am I right?" Frypan grins.

Gally snorts, shaking his head slightly. "You're right."

"'Course I shuckin' am." Frypan grins, patting his long-time friend's back. "Now, are you gonna sit here, wasting your breath yappin' my ear off - or are you gonna go get your girl?"

Gally struggles to hide the smile playing on his lips.

His girl.

He likes the sound of that.

"I'm gonna get my girl."

Whilst Gally gets his heart to heart (lecture) from Frypan, you've taken to cleaning up cups and desperately trying to stop drunk people from falling over. It's not a pleasant way to spend your evening, but it takes your mind off your boredom and constant speculation about your relationship with Gally.

"Hey, Boss." The familiar voice pulls you away from your thoughts, landing on the broad boy.

"I told you you don't have to call me Boss anymore, Gally." You roll your eyes slightly, continuing to pick up glasses.

"Yeah, sorry, force of habit." Gally rocks on his heels, anxiously looking at you.

"...You good?"

"Uh, yeah - uh, can we talk?" You raise an eyebrow at his words, a bubble starting to form in the pit of your stomach. "Like.. in private?"

"Sure. 'Course. Uh, wanna walk along the beach?"

"Yeah." He smiles slightly. "Sounds good."

You put the glasses you've collected down, nodding for him to follow you as you both head towards the waves, starting to wander as the waves just miss lapping up your feet.

Gally doesn't look at you for a while. His eyes fixed on the endless sand ahead of him; it's a heavy silence.

You don't push him. Sure, you spent months pushing him to his full potential. But when it came to talking, it was better to let Gally take his time.

After about ten minutes of walking, he finally takes a deep breath. "So, uh... I spoke to Fry.."

"Oh, yeah? What did he have to say this time?"

"He basically called me a useless slinthead." He chuckles dryly, glancing at you.

"Slinthead? That's like a dickhead, right?" He grins slightly; you're still getting used to the dumb slang of the Glade - it really doesn't help that every group of Maze escapees has their own set of personal curse words.

"Yeah, basically." He chuckles.

"...why'd he call you a dickhead? Sorry- slinthead."

He can't help but shake his head at you, that smile still on his face. "Well, uh, I've been a massive diaper-klunkin' sissy, basically."

You blink. What the fuck does that even mean?

He laughs at your confusion before composing himself, stopping to look at you, which makes you stop, too. You face him, brows furrowed slightly as nervousness starts to feel heavy through your inside.

"...remember before the Last City fell? When you kissed me?"

You freeze, embarrassment heating your face as you'd began to start cringing at the memory when you fall asleep. "Honestly, I thought you'd forgotten that." You attempt to joke to lighten some of the tension.

He scoffs. "Yeah... I've been a bit of an idiot." He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just... I was worried about ruining things between us, yanno? I'm so used to messy everything up and-"

"You don't mess everything up." You interject, immediately prepared to defend him against himself.

"Yeah - I know; Frypan already gave me the lecture." He grimaces slightly, almost like he's cringing at himself. "But... I like you. Like, I really shuckin' like you. And... we're safe here. I wanna stop being such a pussy and just..."

It takes a second to sink in what he's saying, your skin feels warm and tingly, butterflies erupting in your stomach. "...just?"

"...I just wanna ask you if... you'd... like to be my girlfriend?" His confidence falters with every word, voice raising in pitch, scrunching his face as he finishes his question in embarrassment. "That sounded shuckin' awkward." He sighs. "Listen-"

You don't listen, because he has no time to speak. Adrenaline takes over as you step towards him, hand coming to cup his cheek as you press your lips against his once again.

The kiss is short and sweet as you pull away, meeting his half-lidded eyes and wide grin. "Take that as a yes?"

"Yes, Gally, I'd love to be your girlfriend. Took you fuckin' long enough."

He snorts. "Yeah, yeah." He leans back in, kissing you again, this time deeper and with more passion, his fingers creeping around the back of your head and into your hair.

"Shuck yeah!" Both of you pull away from each other, seeing Frypan shouting from half way down the beach. "Told you she's your girl!"

You look at Gally. "The fuck is he on about?"

So, I'm back.

"...Don't worry about it."

Again.

And back with a part 2, nonetheless. Sorry for vanishing, lads, I've had some wicked lack of motivation and I feel like a bit of a dick about it.

Yanno... since it's been literal months.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed :))

[pomplalamoose]

Hey girl could please we get some hc’s for rebel pilot reader and luke friends to lovers??👀🫶

Hiiiii dear anon! This is such a sweet ask and I'm so here for this scenario🫶🏻

also serious probs for coming up with something Luke related I didn't already talk about lol

• assuming you've been with the rebellion for longer than Luke, he'd catch your attention as soon as he arrives

• and to say you'd be intrigued, would want to know more about the newcomer, is a mild understatement

• luckily you aren't the only one feeling this way by far; stories are told and rumors spread all over the place

• about his person, his origin, his looks, etc., every single one of them more absurd than the last

• and while none of them are mean spirited in any way, they definitely serve for a more than welcome distraction from the ongoing terrors and tensions

• (quite possibly this is the reason one or two or maybe more among the rebels have a good time making up some crazy things to stir the pot)

• the first time you're able to catch a few shreds of information is during meal time and of course you can't help but join in on the wild discussions, speculating about the what if's and whether what you've heard is true or not

• while pretty unsure about what to believe you have to admit that yes, these are crazy times, so why should it be too preposperous to encounter someone straight out of a cliché hero story?

• naturally you can't wait to finally see and meet him for yourself, and so you're immensely surprised when Princess Leia's savior turns out to be just some dude your age

• even more so, when after some precise assessments, he seems to be the very opposite of what the stories suggest him to be

• like, you're really supposed to believe THIS GUY escaped The Death Star after encountering The Darth Vader?

• absolutely wild

• of course your disbelief is nothing personal, you know better than to judge a book by it's cover; your time fighting alongside different species did certainly teach you as much

• after all Skywalker is here, willing to fight for the same cause you pledged your life to

• you heard about his great piloting skills as well and surely, in time, he'll have enough chances to prove himself

• plus he does seem nice enough

• it's just- he's so...

• you don't know what you expected

• but certainly not this puppy eyed, long lashed, gangly-limbs-everywhere guy with shiny locks to die for and a voice just slightly too loud

• when you overhear one of his conversations for the first time you are barely able to keep from snorting out a laugh as he animatedly compares the feat of destroying the Empire's biggest weapon to shooting animals on his backwater planet

• is he being serious?

• you're not sure what to make of his boisterous claim, nor where it stems from

• naivety?

• arrogance?

• it's possible the two of you had already exchanged a few words prior to this but now you decide on putting serious effort into speaking to him more often

• you want to get to know this guy, even if it's just for finding out that you're better off ignoring him

• maybe, for what it's worth, to put him into his place and to teach him a little lesson

• though soon you are very glad you gave him the benefit of the doubt

• as it turns out Luke, as you call him now, is very easy to approach and to get along with

• his smile as well as his enthusiasm are very contagious and much to your surprise you find yourself immensely enjoying his presence

• because of his open and curious nature you quickly discover shared interests, as well as likes and dislikes and benefit greatly from each others experiences and knowledge, especially when it comes to flying

• Luke is like sunshine personified and quickly you find it hard to imagine your daily life without him as his smile and warm presence always help to brighten your mood and ease your mind

• you didn't think so before but you actually really like listening to him talk, like to sit quietly by his side while he goes off on a rant or animatedly tells a story

• soon you view him in a whole different light than before, realizing that your first assessment was indeed, not quite right

• and as the awkward and inexperienced farm boy unfolds his depths right in front of you, you grow to admire his compassionate strengths greatly

• what starts off as lighthearted and easy comradery, evolves into a heartfelt friendship, fueled not only by the circumstances but a mutual understanding as well

• you make for a great team, able to trust each other blindly in training and during real skirmishes against the Empire's forces

• always he brings out the best in you and you seek to do the same

• it keeps both of you going, plays a major role as you work on improving your respective skills together

• may it be through friendly competition, sharing tips and tricks, hyping each other up after a particular good manoeuver, bragging about achievements or just helping the other with restoring their x-wing

• it's hard to pinpoint the exact time when the switch flipped, hard to figure out how all of a sudden feelings and the longing for something more evolved

• when did you stop seeing your best friend when you looked at him?

• when did he become so desirable?

• when did your innocent love for a friend turn into more?

• neither of you can tell, not even later, after rushed confessions in the hangar and first kisses after returning from an especially gruesome fight

• you tend to think about it a lot in hindsight, seek to remember that one moment of clarity while you lie awake at night, too giddy to fall asleep

• maybe your feelings were there from the very beginning with only your circumstances preventing you from realizing

• or maybe this was just the way things were supposed to develop, the only possible outcome after everything you've been through together

• in truth though, it's not that important

• being with Luke is simple in the best way possible, always was

• you're in love and it doesn't matter whether you fell slowly or all at once

• whether you quickly recognized the feeling for what it was or needed time to do so

• maybe the Force wanted you to take it slow, to really know the other, to experience them in every way possible, before sinking into their arms

[crystalverse-project]

i had to start this whole list again cause the draft didn't save ahjsjdjdj

some concepts for one shots/aus of the au i might add to the one shot list that's the "third" part of my crystalverse series + inspiration pictures if there is one

- trayaurus' cloning machine works all the way back then, so instead of grim the skeleton dog they have grim and glum the cloned normal dogs. that means dan and trayaurus never have the fight, but they might be reckless with their experiments after never learning from the experience

- genderbent au, featuring trayaura and dawn (who's transfem)

- the scientific prodigy and loner player dr everton, his assistant the adrenaline junkie, smarter than he looks rebel villager tray, and grim, their enderdog

- finn runs away from snowbounde after being expelled from school and thrown out of the orphanage, ending up VERY far away, on the doorstep of trayaurus' lab. and after being disowned, a revenge-considering dan is given an offer by a mysterious stranger in a hot air balloon named denton for a ride somewhere else, or perhaps the revenge he seeks, but with the ultimate cost

- dan and tray, brought together by their shared resent of their backgrouds, turn out evil (like that bacteria block mod, anti lab and all. absolutely love that video omg definitely somewhere in my top 10) but denton is also evil, and they're rivals for world domination, finn is the only one who isn't and when the crystals fall down he ends up having to be the one to either make them all snap out of what they're doing or defeat the three of them simutaneously

- enderdan 😈 (inspired by themintman's space dog au...so now it's inspiration of inspiration. very easy to understand) finn calls dan for help when the endermen surround his house and he stops his game of mario kart with tray to run over and help. dusty is saved from her bite...but dan isn't. by the time they get back to the lab the transformation is permanent, putting dan's whole future, as well as the future of his relationship with trayaurus, in jeoprady, who could love a monster like him when they can't even look each other in the eyes? but tray still loves him anyway. and he starts wearing dan's goggles when they're together (which have reflective lenses and are therefore enderman-sightproof, plus they're now too small for him) so they can still look at each other. out of the sub aus this one and the one below are the ones i'm most interested in expanding, maybe the one above too

image credit: rhi-the-hybrid from deviantart (although the account seems to be abandoned)

- diamond bookcart au - trayaurus doesn't end up becoming a scientist, instead enjoying his librarian job wholeheartedly and studies a lot of subjects, one of them is science but also history and literature. he moves away from the village and lands a job in an expansive, well-respective library, which just so happens to be the emotional and physical retreat of a lower-key, more studious dan (the thinking cup being his second one) they meet slightly earlier and form a bond before dan gets disowned, and they end up moving in together (they and the csv!dan and trayaurus are definitely going to meet at some point)

this was inspired from this drawing i did during my april-may challenge, it wasn't my idea for the dark academia it was suggested to me by my friend at the time (one of my s/os now) i've wanted to do an expansion on it for a while...i have ideas but i'm going to get the main au finished first!!

[lifblogs]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by: @just-here-with-my-thoughts (I feel so honored, thank you! And I really am dying to read Welcome to the Outpost.)

These answers will probably involve a range of fandoms.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

647.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,850,510

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Primarily The Bad Batch now, maybe Clone Wars here and there. My fandom writing migrates. Used to be Doctor Who, then Supernatural, then The Clone Wars, and Rebels.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Apparently my top 5 are fics I don’t even care about anymore. *sigh* Not providing links because of how meh I am about these.

1. Morningstar (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina),

2. Take Me Home (I actually didn’t realize this was in my top 5), it’s a Supernatural fic),

3. Take Me to Church (Supernatural),

4. Deal (I believe this is an Avatar: The Last Airbender crack fic based off of incorrect quotes), and

5. Ineffable (Good Omens).

5. Do you respond to comments?

Most definitely!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Definitely either Bleeding Reality, or In the Dark.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely May I Have This Dance? Oh, how I adore that fic. I wrote it based on art I love so much, and the artist even let me put their art in the fic!!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Used to years ago, so now I still feel dread in the pit of my stomach when I get an AO3 comment email. The dread thankfully doesn’t show up all the time now.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh, hell yeah, I do! Not sure about what kind. It’s just, I don’t know, smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not.

11. Which fic are you proud of but wish had gotten a bigger response from your readers?

Maybe The World Goes Cold? But I am maybe releasing chapters too slowly, so I guess it makes sense the response isn’t as big.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think I’ve had a couple translated into Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I tried to do so with my brother a couple of times, but we never finished them. I don’t think either of us really understand how the co-writing process works.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Tbh, I always feel the most when I think about or see anything involving Whoufflé/Whouffaldi from Doctor Who. They were my OTP from 2013 to 2016. Might still be the case!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

You know, I had ones I did want to finish, but now, I’m not even sure I want to.

Still, I guess Blackout, and Three Birds, One Stone held a lot of my attention for a few years. But with the fic content now being triggering for me, and with a brain injury, I feel as if I may have moved on.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I have been told my descriptions are incredibly visceral, and I might agree. I’ve been on the edge of my seat or emotional more than a few times during my editing process. I also like to consider the fact that I’m writing at all a strength given I have a brain injury that gives me memory problems and aphasia.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Well, I’d say say the memory problems and aphasia cause some weaknesses. I have caught a couple weirdly-worded errors and it’s slightly embarrassing. Does Omega shredding my outline multiple times count as a weakness? lol I suppose another weakess is spelling and forgetting words and struggling to find the right words. I often have to look things up. But as far as things like description, dialogue… I’m not sure I struggle there.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I’d take a crack at French! I used to be able to read and write in French very easily.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Lord of the Rings. I was 8.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably Brother, Hold Me Up, and it’s still going!

Tagging: @evilwriter37, @envydean, @cascigarette, and @clownery-and-fuckery

[olivesdontbite]

I've been doing a lot of analysis on Good Omens recently so here's some things I've gathered from the scene in S1E5 where Crowley is talking to himself drunk in a bar after he believes Aziraphale had been killed. (This might not be new for everyone, this is also just my opinion and thoughts, I'm just having fun so take what I'm saying with a grain of salt lol) Before going into the quote and what each part means, I would like to specify that Neil Gaiman stated that Crowley isn't the most reliable narrator of his own fall. From this I am assuming that although most of what Crowley is saying aren't direct lies, but that he likely sugarcoated and holds back some information. Neil also stated that Crowley (before the fall) wasn't as innocent / good as he paints himself to be, and isn't nearly as evil as Heaven would like to imagine.

“I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then, oh look here, it's Lucifer and the guys. Food hadn’t been that good lately, didn’t have anything on for the rest of the afternoon. Next thing I’m doing a million lightyear freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulfur.”  

There are a few things that we can take out from this quote. 

“I never asked to be a demon.” This is the second time Crowley specified his intent with falling. He never wanted this, he never meant for this to happen. Although he doesn’t directly say that he feels it's undeserved, it is clear that he in some ways regrets his actions and that the intent of falling wasn’t there. 

“I was just minding my own business one day.” Here's what I believe is very clear sugarcoating on his behalf. He paints himself as innocent and unknowing of what would happen. Although it may be true to some extent that he didn’t realise it would lead to him and others falling. It would be wrong to assume that it wasn't also his own doing which caused him to join Lucifer and to join the rebellion and further, participate in the great war. 

“Look here, it’s Lucifer and the guys.” These are the people he blames for falling, the “wrong people” he hung around with so to say. (There was a theory at some point that Crowley was Lucifer and he was talking about himself in the third person but this has been debunked by Neil Gaiman who said that Lucifer turned into Satan.) In this way he is also somewhat sugarcoating (imo) because he makes it seem as if others dragged him into the rebellion and the war, while yes there may have been peer pressure and outside influences, Crowley is someone who makes his own decisions and doesn't just go along with something he doesn't agree with.

“Food hadn’t been that good lately, didn’t have anything on for the rest of the afternoon.” Another instance of Crowley sugarcoating what had happened, I personally find it hard to believe that just one random afternoon a large group of angels just on a whim decided to rebel and start a war, as well as that I find it hard to believe Crowley joined the rebellion and war because “the food hadn’t been that good lately”. There was definitely a more serious and substantial reason for the rebellion and why Crowley joined. His language here also plays it off as no big deal, while clearly, it is a big deal, he just has a hard time confronting that reality.

“Next thing I’m doing a million light year freestyle dive into a pool of boiling sulfur.” This line is very different from the others, as his tone also shifts slightly, you can clearly feel the hurt and pain of this memory. From this we also learn that when an Angel turns into a Demon, they fall into boiling sulfur. But clearly to Crowley, this is a very painful and traumatic memory, I just wanna give him a hug.

[wedreamedlove]

[FIC] I Love You 115 (14/115)

Rating: M Characters: Osborn/Reader Word Count: 1587

Summary: Saturday mornings are for sleeping in and deepening the bond between a couple.

A/N: Inspired by the clip below, コネクト by あすとら on Twitter, and the factoid from the official Light and Night artbook that Osborn will involuntarily sleep face down in environments where he feels safe and relaxed.

Sunlight shines through the window walls, gilding everything in a gentle gold and providing just the perfect amount of light and warmth for you to read comfortably on the couch in the air-conditioned house.

Or rather, it would have been perfect if you haven't been staring at the same sentence for five minutes now because the emptiness in your stomach is too distracting. It doesn't help that, in the background, you can hear the family pets push their bowls around as they chase after the last crumbs of their lunch, making you hungrier.

Why haven't you eaten yet? Because you're waiting for Osborn to wake up.

For the past month, he had been overseas preparing for and participating in a cluster of races set on the same continent; meanwhile, you had an important project deadline to meet and this prevented you from taking time off to fly over and see your boyfriend. Naturally, both of you messaged and video called whenever possible with the time difference, but this physical separation only made the longing deepen. On the last day, after seizing the highest amount of points without much suspense, Osborn skipped out on all the celebrations and flew back to you on the earliest flight possible.

However, despite all this effort, he still returned home in the middle of the night and you only remember him giving you a kiss on the forehead before he collapsed in bed next to you and fell asleep within seconds.

And he's still sleeping even now.

Of course you want to let him rest as much as possible but, as your stomach rebels against you with another hunger pang, you finally give up on reading to distract yourself and check the clock for the fifth time. It's almost noon and you decide it should be fine to wake Osborn now.

You get off the couch, sliding into your slippers, and then make your way to the bedroom.

Quietly pushing the door open, the bedroom looks just like how you left it this morning. The curtains block out most of the light, causing the whole room to appear dim and cozy, and nothing can be heard except for Osborn's even and peaceful breaths.

The only difference in the bedroom seems to be that, after you got out of bed, Osborn had abandoned his pillow to grab yours and rolled onto his stomach to bury his face in it. The blanket had slipped down to pool around his waist and his entire back was exposed. You reflexively swallow at how, even in such a relaxed state, the definition of his muscles can easily be seen as well as how all the lines of his body are compact and lithe, from his slender waist to his broad shoulders. Like a predator, even when at rest it isn't difficult to imagine the explosive force lurking in that body.

You walk up to the side of the bed and you aren't able to stop yourself from reaching out to place your hand on his shoulder blade. His skin is extremely warm to touch and feels nice against your cool hand. The muscles are pliable in his relaxed state but still resist against you when you press down slightly and trace the line of his shoulder to his bicep and then down to his elbow.

As your palm slides across his forearm, you hear Osborn inhale deeply from the pillow, his body stirring, and by the time you get to his wrist, he twists his hand to catch you and intertwines his fingers with yours.

You laugh at the awkward position this puts his arm in and lean down to nuzzle his shoulder.

"Mm?" The questioning note comes out mostly from his nose, but it still manages to carry the husky rumble of having just woken up.

"Hungry." You explain in a hushed voice and gently bite his shoulder.

You know you didn't put any force in the action, but Osborn still hisses through his teeth and turns his head to reveal an eye that looks at you with affectionate amusement. "So, you're going to eat me instead?"

"Not yet, but I'll give it serious consideration if you don't get up right now. I've been waiting for you to have lunch together."

Osborn releases your hand so that he can turn himself onto his side and now you can see the smile on his lips that reaches his eyes even as he fakes a yawn and says languidly, "I don't know... the bed is really comfy, I might need something to motivate me to move."

After being together for so long, how can you not know what your boyfriend is aiming for? As you move closer to his face, you see his eyes fall shut naturally, which suits you perfectly, because just as your breaths land on his lips you turn your head to the side and peck the corner of his mouth. Giggling with pride, you attempt to escape out of the room.

The keyword being "attempt".

Sure enough, your professional racer-cum-bounty hunter boyfriend's reaction speed cannot be underestimated because his hand grabs your wrist just as you turn away and, with a force that can't be refused, he pulls you onto him and catches your lower lip in his mouth with a low growl. "That's not even remotely close enough."

Osborn surges up to slant his mouth over the rest of yours and devours you.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth that was already parted in surprise and wraps around your tongue to pull into his mouth, where he sucks on it. The tip of his nose nudges against your cheek as he presses into you, like there's still too much distance between you two despite how your lips rub together, and the breath from his nose scorches as it splays over your skin. It's only when you start to feel your tongue go numb in his mouth that he releases it to slip his tongue back into your mouth to taste your every crevice, making you tremble whenever he strokes over a sensitive spot.

You don't remember when your positions switch but you suddenly feel the contrast of your back sinking into the soft bed and something hot and hard nudging against your inner thigh when Osborn's pelvis settles into the cradle of your hips.

He releases your mouth to hear your quivering gasp when he rocks against you before he kisses you again. The pleasure that races through your whole body makes you boneless and you can feel the saliva in your mouth creeping out of the cracks of your joined mouths, except Osborn swallows this liquid greedily like he really is trying to eat you.

"Os..." You whimper breathlessly.

Osborn pulls back just enough to suck on your slick and swollen lips again and again, and the wet pops as he releases your lips sound abnormally loud in the quiet room as he asks between pants, "Can I?"

The flush on your face deepens when you feel him thrust his hips lightly and the cloth of his briefs, which have already turned moist at the front, slides against your thigh. Just as you open your mouth though, your stomach beats you into answering and growls angrily.

Both of you freeze at this inopportune noise and you can practically see the desire to consume you struggle against the desire to take care of you in his eyes, which have already darkened into a deep ocean-green, until finally helplessness overtakes both emotions and he drops his head into the crook of your neck, exhaling hard.

You reiterate matter-of-factly, "I'm hungry."

Osborn must feel you shaking with silent laughter because he pinches the skin of your neck in his mouth and grinds his teeth on it, making you reflexively pull up your shoulders and yelp as you try to escape the tingling pressure.

Eventually, he releases you after leaving several more marks like this on your neck and shoulder. "Looks like I have to fatten up my meal first before I can actually eat."

"Are you calling me fat?" You try to twist the flesh of his shoulder in objection but grow even more upset when you can barely get any skin between your fingers from the tight spread of muscles that shift and contract underneath your hand as he wraps an arm below your bottom and lifts you up one-handedly into his chest and gets up out of bed.

"Where did I say that? I'm saying you're way too light and need to eat more. I'm about to suspect that a certain someone lied to me when they said they were eating all their meals on time while I was away."

You cough loudly and turn your head to give a sonorous kiss on Osborn's cheek. "Boss Osborn is the best! I can't wait to see what you make for lunch!"

"Tsk, that was the clumsiest change in subject I've ever heard, but who made it so that I always fall for this move every time?" He turns his head to present his other cheek to you. "One more and I can consider forgetting what I just said."

You smack another resounding kiss on his other cheek as he requests and swing your foot as he does drop the subject and carries you into the kitchen. A day only officially begins after the two of you share a meal together and, from the looks of it, today is going to be a wonderful day.

[photogirl894]

"Mirrors in the Force"

Chapter 2

"The Master"

A "Rebels" fanfic!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus x fem OC (blasphemous, I know 😜)

A/N: Here's the next chapter of my new fic where you'll get to know Elaré a little bit more! This one was a fun one that I enjoyed writing and I hope you all enjoy reading! 😊

Taglist: @dragonrider9905 , @scarlettrose9901 , @darthzero22 , @reader6898 , @moonstrider9904 , @techs-stitches , @ilikemymendarkandfictional

《 Chapter 1

》 Chapter 3

All chapters

Explanation: Elaré's different abilities are tested by a great and powerful Jedi Master.

Elaré was in quite the hurry as she ran through the halls of the Jedi Temple. She had to get where she needed to be and fast.

"I can't believe I did it again!" she thought to herself as she went.

Her feet carried her swiftly through the temple until she was just around the corner from her destination. However, as she turned the corner, she saw a group of younglings coming out of the room.

She was too late. Again.

Right then, she was going to backtrack behind the wall and out of view, but a couple of the other Padawans spotted her anyway. 

"Oh, look who decided to not show up to lightsaber training again," cried out one of the boys named Mag, causing Elaré to halt.

"Seriously? When are you ever going to be responsible and actually come to class?" a girl called Sani then chided her.

Elaré just looked away, embarrassed and ashamed as the rest of the Padawans goaded her while they walked away. This was definitely not the first time she'd been irresponsible and either been late or missed this class entirely. Despite the fact she already had a Master, it was deemed that Elaré was still a little too young to be brought into battles, so whenever Master Gallia was away on a mission, she was still to attend lessons with fellow Padawans who hadn't been assigned to Masters yet. However, she had a bad habit of missing said lessons, even more so in the few days that had passed since Caleb had left on a mission.

Once the others were gone, she quietly walked into the large room where a single Jedi Master stood in the middle of the room, his back to the door as he looked out of the large window in the room at the horizon of Coruscant. 

She got down respectfully onto her knees, bowed her head and spoke up timidly, "Forgive me for intruding, Master."

The Jedi Master replied without turning around, "Late again, you were, young Padawan. Lost in your meditations, were you?"

She sighed with defeat. "Yes," she answered, lifting her head back up. "I know, it isn't an excuse, but I have no other reason for my tardiness. I know I should be more responsible with my time and actually come to class on time."

It was then he turned around to face her and the kind, wise face of Master Yoda; the greatest Jedi in all the Order appeared, looking at her.

"Hear such things, where did you?" he inquired.

"From my classmates," she told him. 

He leaned forward slightly on his cane. "Ever hear such reprimands from me, have you?" 

She blinked a couple times, puzzled. "Uh...no, Master," she said.

The small Master chuckled good-heartedly, which the Padawan wasn't expecting. "Believe they are the teacher, your peers do, which is why they think they can chastise you. Wrong, they are, to behave in such a way. Nothing to be ashamed of, you have."

Elaré's jaw slackened. "I don't?" 

Yoda shook his head. "Trouble me, it does not, when you arrive late to training due to meditating and losing track of time. To learn proper meditation, also a good Jedi skill, it is."

"The rest of the Padawans my age don't seem to think so. They tease me for it," she said.

"Value their opinions over mine, do you?" he questioned her.

She panicked for a brief moment, blurting out, "No! Of course not, Master Yoda."

He took a couple steps closer, the tapping of his cane echoing in the empty room. "Important, it is, to learn to wield a lightsaber and fight in battle. To meditate and connect deeply to the Force, an even greater lesson. Without the Force as our ally, rendered useless, our lightsaber training is." Then he grinned proudly. "Already well ahead of the other Padwanas in that regard, you are, Elaré. Learn something from you, they could."

Elaré couldn't believe what she was hearing. Instead of being reprimanded for missing the lesson, she was being praised and by Master Yoda, of all people. For a moment, she was speechless.

Noticing this and still with a grin on his face, Yoda asked, "Nothing to say, have you?"

When she found the ability to speak again, she said to him, "Sorry, Master. I just was startled by your words, but they do mean a lot to me."

"Tell me, young Padawan. The Force...what do you think it is?" Yoda then asked her.

She responded, "The Force is an energy that binds everything and everyone together. It's created and sustained by all life in the universe. It's a part of all of us, but the Jedi have a stronger connection to it." 

All of a sudden, she was poked in the shoulder by the end of the Master's cane and she yelped in both surprise and slight pain.

"Textbook definition, that is," he stated. "Think not with your mind...but with your feelings. Reach deep, you must, and find your own answer. Now, rephrase my question, I will. What is the Force to you?"

That was a different question than she was anticipating. Her gaze lowered in contemplation as she took a moment to think of the best way to answer. What was the Force to her? How could she accurately describe it? There were so many things she could say, but nothing seemed right.

Then finally, she settled on an answer. Her head lifted and she said to the wise Jedi, "To me, the Force...is a guardian. It's there no matter where I go or what I do. It's where I find peace, knowledge and protection. I know I won't ever truly be alone because the Force is my constant ally, shielding me from the dangers and influences of the Dark Side. It's what I call upon to guide my saber in a fight and my feet on the paths I take in life. It's there for me when no one else is; it's my constant companion watching over me."

Yoda looked impressed at her answer. "Wise beyond your years, you are, Elaré," he praised her. "Most other students your age, unsure how to answer, they would be. Exceptional, your explanation was."

Once again, Elaré couldn't believe that the Master Yoda was speaking so highly of her. "Thank you, Master," she replied, unable to hold back a wide smile.

"Another small test for you, I have," he then said. "Stand up...and your lightsaber, activate it."

The young lady did as she was told. She got up to her feet, withdrew her lightsaber and activated her golden blade. As she did so, she saw one of the large, half-dome shaped helmets the students usually wore during training floating in the air towards her. She realized Yoda was using the Force to send it her way.

"The helmet, put it on," he told her.

Even though she was a little perplexed at what he was asking of her, she did as she was told and placed the helmet on her head, the front of it tilted just a bit forward so it covered her eyes. Then she heard the beeping and whirring of a training remote Droid being activated. 

"Raised, the difficulty programming in the remote has been. Better to test your combat level," Yoda explained.

She gave a nod of her head and then took a defensive stance, raising her lightsaber. She tapped into her connection with the Force, willing it to help her sense the remote and block its attacks. Right away, she sensed it a few feet away, readying its first attack. 

Then she inhaled deeply, letting the Force flow through her as she whispered the ancient Jedi words, "I am one with the Force and the Force is with me."

The remote fired and she knew where to block, her blade absorbing the shot. A few seconds later, it fired again and she sensed it coming from her right side. She parried again, swinging her lightsaber out. Then she sensed a rapid-fire wave of shots coming at her as the remote seemingly moved to the left. Quickly, she swung her blade back and forth to block each shot.

Just then, there was a secondary presence behind her, which surprised her. A second remote. Since it caught her by surprise, it managed to land a hit on the back of her shoulder, making her yelp. The laser bolt stung a little. Master Yoda was really testing her now. She spun around and blocked the next shot, but she could still sense the first remote that was now behind her. If she kept flipping back and forth, it would make her disoriented. Instead, she leapt back a couple feet so now both remotes were on either side in front of her. The Force continued to serve her well as she went on to block more shots. A couple of them came rapidly and she took a hit to her thigh and her arm, but luckily, these laser bolts weren't all that powerful. If anything, they just stung, but didn't do much damage. Her blade almost seemed to move on its own, even though her mind was conscious of her actions. This was the Force at work, guiding her every move and helping her see what couldn't be seen. It felt incredible! If this was what it felt like using the Force now, she wondered what it would be like when she was older and had more training. 

Then there was one more twist to her test Elaré hadn't anticipated at all. There was movement behind her, a lightsaber igniting, and when she whirled around, she sensed Master Yoda's blade clashing with hers. 

"Good. Very good," Yoda commented before stepping back and using the Force to pull the helmet off of her head, sending it clattering to the floor. "Hinder you now, the helmet will," he said, "but keep your eyes closed, you must. Face me through the Force."

Elaré trusted in his instructions and closed her eyes, readying her weapon for his next move. Despite his old age, he was quick and agile. He senses told her he was moving to the side, jumping through the air before going in for another strike. She parried his attack and then did so a second time before being bold and lunging in for hit herself, seeing him in front of her in her mind. Yoda effortlessly fought off her attacks or leapt in the air from side to side to dodge them. At one point, she thought she'd give the old-timer a taste of his own medicine and flipped over his head to his other side when he came at her again. However, she only heard him laugh in amusement and he started hopping around again when she thought she had him. Then finally, he landed and she sensed he was going to use the Force on her, so she threw up a hand at the same time he did to try and counter it. However, he was immensely stronger with the Force than she was and her resistance only lasted a couple seconds before she was launched backwards, rolling across the hard, marble floor. She supposed she should've seen that coming. She was going up against the great Master Yoda, after all. 

As she sat up, Elaré could hear his weapon deactivating before he told her, "Performed well, you did." When she looked up, he was holding out her lightsaber hilt to her, which had gone flying from her hands a moment before. She took it from him and got up to her feet.

Resting both three-fingered hands atop his cane in front of him, Yoda gave his judgement: "Needs more discipline, your form does...but your bond with the Force, put you ahead of your classmates, it has. Need to attend this class anymore, I feel you do not."

A half-grunt, half-gasp escaped Elaré's throat. Master Yoda really deemed her that skilled that he didn't think she'd need to be a part of the class of peers her own age? 

He continued, "Impressed, I am, with your skills, young Elaré. Two learning alternatives, I have for you. Attend a class with older Padawans, you may, or...have private training sessions with me, you can."

Hearing those options made her legs shaky and nearly give way. "Master Yoda...I don't know what to say!" she cried. 

He grinned, seeing how shocked she was. "Need to make your choice right away, you do not. Take time to ponder your answer. Let the Force guide you. Strong, you are, with the Force. Lead you down the right path, it will...and offended, I will not be, if you choose the other class." Then the small Jedi gave a hearty chuckle.

As he turned to walk away, Elaré asked him a question that was on her mind since this whole situation had started: "Master Yoda...of all the Padawans you could choose to gauge their talents...why me?"

The wise Master stopped and turned once again to face the Padawan. "Prefer to study the Force and its teachings; its secrets not through text or lessons, but through personal meditation, you do, yes?" Yoda inquired of her.

She nodded. "That's true, yes," she said.

"Then know the reason behind your kyber crystal, do you?" he then asked.

"Um...actually no, I don't," she admitted.

He hummed again. "A golden yellow crystal, you have. Very rare, that particular crystal is. Signifies strong warriors and associated with knowledge, it is. By Jedi who deeply study the workings of the Force, they are often used, and represent deep understanding and commitment to using the Force for good. Symbolize loyalty and creativity, they also can. Extraordinary, it is, to see a young Padawan your age worthy of such traits."

Elaré looked down reverently at the sleek, black lightsaber hilt in her hand. She'd never known any of that about her gold crystal. Admittedly, she hadn't seen any other gold sabers around the temple, save for the temple guards, but she hadn't fully realized how special that made hers...and her by extent. 

Master Yoda took a couple steps closer to her, gazing up at her proudly. "Great potential, I could sense in you, the day you were brought to the temple. Then when you found a gold kyber crystal, knew you were a unique child, I did," he told her. "Over the past twelve years, have you lived up to the potential I sensed in you. Learned, you have, to harness the Force in ways many do not until they are older. Continue in this way and even powerful enough to see the future one day, you could be."

"See the future?" she repeated in awe.

He bowed his head in affirmation. 

"You're able to see the future, aren't you, Master?" she then asked.

Once more, he bowed his head, humming low to himself as he sometimes did. "It took me many years to master such an ability. Much training, patience and discipline, it requires," he answered, "but always in motion is the future. Seen so easily, not all things can be."

"I see," she said, her voice lowering.

"Disappointed in that, are you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Maybe a little," she confessed. "I just thought, if I could learn to see the future, then I could see the end of the Clone War and how things are going to go. I could see what could happen and know how we could potentially save more lives, even save more Jedi."

Yoda hummed again in understanding. "While good, your intentions are...dangerous, it can be, to try and change the future, young Padawan. Do such things, even I cannot."

"I understand, Master," said Elaré. 

Then, with a tap of his cane on the floor, Yoda declared, "Now finished, this lesson is. Go now, youngling, and enjoy yourself. Return to your meditations, if you'd like, or perhaps enjoy some quiet in the library. Earned it, you have."

With a grateful smile, Elaré bowed to him and replied, "You honor me, Master Yoda, with your teachings and your words of wisdom. I'll let you know what I decide on your offer hopefully soon."

"Await your answer eagerly, I will," he said.

She flashed him a happy smile and then walked out of the room, her mind reeling from everything that had just happened. She had expected a scolding, not a test and then a recommendation for higher learning. That had all caught her quite by surprise. Master Yoda had even told her she could maybe one day see the future through her use of the Force. Knowing that, she really wanted to make it happen. Even though the Master had said it would be difficult and take a lot of time, she was determined to make it a reality. 

"If I can learn to see the future, I can help a lot of people," she said to herself. "I'm sure I can figure out when this war will be over. I'll help save lives. Master Yoda said it can be dangerous to change the future, but I know I can do it! I'll show him that I can. I'll make a difference in this war, even if I can't fight in it. I'll show him...I'll show everyone."

A couple days later, Elaré was back in her usual place, sitting in front of the Great Tree, resuming her meditations. In the calm recesses of her mind, she continued chanting the mantra she'd used before. 

"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me."

In times of stress or when she wanted to meditate deeper than usual, those words helped her a lot. They seemed to bring her comfort and made her feel calm.

Or, at least, she was calm until she heard an angry voice yell at her from across the grounds. She groaned with irritation. It was a voice she knew all too well and didn't care to hear right now. 

When her eyes opened, there they were, standing before her and scowling down at her. It was the two bullies of her class that had scolded her before; not only that, but had been unkind to her for some time, Mag Amaj and Sani Oten. Mag was a human boy with dark skin, short black hair with a Padawan braid on his left side and red eyes. Sani was a Mirialan girl with light green skin, a shaggy pixie cut of dark brown hair with her Padawan braid hanging down her right side, emerald green eyes and a tattoo in a "V" formation made of several diamond shapes going across her face. 

"Mag. Sani," Elaré flatly greeted them, annoyed at their interruption. 

"What's your deal, Drenda?" Mag angrily demanded, addressing her by her last name. 

Elaré raised her eyebrows. "You wanna be more specific?"

Displeased at her supposed innocence, Mag blurted out, "Master Yoda told the rest of us you weren't gonna be in class anymore because you're moving up to a higher level. What, do you suddenly think you're better than us now? How did you even swing that anyway?"

She rolled her eyes. The nerve of this boy. "I fail to see how you think you're entitled to that information after how you've treated me," she fired back.

As Mag grimaced at her, Sani spoke up in a nasally, bratty voice to him, almost as if Elaré wasn't even there, "I think she must've used a Jedi mind trick on Master Yoda to try and get out of coming to class."

Elaré gawked at her in disbelief before asking her, "How stupid are you, Sani?" 

The Mirialan girl gasped in offense. 

Then Elaré went on to say, emphasizing certain words so maybe what she said would get through their thick heads, "I'm not dumb enough to even think of using a mind trick on any Jedi Master, let alone Master Yoda, the head of the Jedi Council, of all people." 

Both Mag and Sani just glared at her, unamused. 

She propped her elbow up on her knee and leaned into her palm, seemingly bored with the whole conversation. "Besides, mind tricks only work on the weak-minded, so it would never work on a Master...but I'm certain it would work on you two."

That statement didn't sit well with the other two. Mag took a step forward, questioning, "Are you calling us weak?"

Elaré shrugged and stood up, figuring she wasn't going to get back to her meditating anytime soon. "I didn't say that at all...but if the shoe fits...," she replied with a sly grin.

Right then, Sani snapped and shoved Elaré hard, pushing against her shoulders and making her stagger back.

"Don't touch me again," Elaré warned her.

"Fine, then," Sani replied snidely. "I don't have to touch you to get back at you." Then she held out her open hand and used the Force to summon Elaré's lightsaber to her hand, snatching it midair.

"Hey! Give that back!" Elaré shouted. "You have no right to touch that!"

Sani just smirked connivingly, waving the lightsaber between her fingertips at Elaré. "What are you gonna do, Drenda?" she taunted. 

Her anger taking over, Elaré moved to tackle Sani to the ground, but Mag was quicker. He grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, eliciting a cry of pain from her.

"Good luck getting away," he said in her ear, tightening his grip on her arm.

Sani snickered in amusement. "Who's the better one now?" 

"Well, it's definitely not either of you bullies."

Elaré's lightsaber was suddenly whisked away from Sani's hand and they all watched as it flew to someone else's hand; the same someone who had just spoken. 

"If I were you, I'd get out of here before things get ugly. Leave Elli alone or else."

Then Elaré's face broke out into a smile as she recognized the newcomer.

Caleb had returned. 

[yanderes-galore]

And one more for the Outer Worlds, as you likely expected someone to ask, could you please write a romantic rivalry with Felix and Vicar Max? I know they don’t even have solo concepts yet, but their relationship in the game is too fascinating to not expand on. Two men who are already down to toss each other out an airlock as soon as the captain looks away? Surely adding romantic tension won’t hurt anyone!

- 📸 anon

Ohhhh, I like how you think! Here you go :) I hope everything is in character! Sorry if it's short, I didn't have a lot of plot ideas ^^;

Yandere! Felix vs Yandere! Vicar Max

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Jealousy, Yandere rivalry, Violence, Threats, Drug use mentioned once, Blood, Sabotage mention, Dubious relationships.

I will admit these two have a very interesting relationship.

Usually it seems to stem from Felix's hate for the Corporation and Max's religion.

As a result they often argue with one another.

Now imagine the chaos caused when the two fall for the same person?

Could be with the captain... could be someone the captain hired...

Either way the two start to develop feelings for you.

I will admit the rivalry would be worse before Max went on his spiritual enlightenment journey.

Before Max's companion quest, he was much quicker to resort to violence and more irritable/arrogant.

This version of Max would pick fights with Felix more.

Except Felix is actually the one picking the fights more.

Max tries to be more mature in front of you, but it irritates him when he hears Felix run his mouth about you.

Felix thinks you'd want more of a rebel as a partner, while Max feels you'd want a more intellectual partner.

Felix definitely tries hard to impress you with his physical fighting capabilities.

Meanwhile Max helps you see the science side of things.

Honestly who's "right" for you comes down to preference.

Not that it stops them from fighting.

Regardless on what you prefer they definitely still pick fights.

It rarely gets overly violent but I feel it can border on it.

Felix likes to taunt Max, telling him how you definitely prefer him over the Vicar (even if you don't)

Max usually retorts with something back, ever so slightly holding back his rage and urge to deck the younger companion.

If you are a companion of the captain, the two try to convince the captain to take you and one of them on a mission.

That way one of them gets alone time with you and a chance to impress you.

If you are the captain and you happen to have them both as your companions, they're bickering.

You'd have to tell them off if you want peace.

The two probably fight if you leave them alone, maybe one time you come back to The Unreliable only to see them have a bit of blood on them.

The two know better than to kill one another, hopefully, but they never seem to get along when it comes to you.

They also don't consider kidnapping you, they care about you so there's no need to stress you out.

They still are... but whatever.

After Max's trip to enlightenment with the aid of drugs/incense, he's calmer but still shows irritable behavior towards Felix.

Especially if Felix keeps taunting him about you.

Even if you do choose one or the other, who's to say they won't keep fighting?

Now the game has changed slightly, who can ruin the other's relationship faster.

It's still a game of sabotage... one that feels never-ending to you.

When it comes to a rivalry between them... there won't be any peace...

Especially if one keeps the fire of the fighting going continuously (Felix).

[jaymber]

Blistering Love

Timeline 20151 - Protagonist : V Temarii

[ First | Previous | Next ]

V allowed Johnny to do whatever he wanted with Rogue. It was their body, after all. But, by the time he was in control again, the merc realized he was still fully clothed, and that the movie wasn't over just yet. "Shit, that was… quick?" he commented

"I am many things, V, but  a one minute man I am not. Nothing happened. Was gonna be a nice night at the drive-in. Now, she’s mad and won’t tell me what about." "What did you do this time?" "Uh, no. It’s definitely not me. ‘member Grayson? How they spoke? How weird it was?”"

"Yeah, it was odd. But, maybe there’s no connection. Maybe she’s just… still in shock. You, back, trying for once. Give her some time. She'll see you're trying to-" V tried to rest a hand on Johnny's knee for sympathy, but the engram seemingly ran from his touch. He felt Johnny closing from him again, hiding his feelings and thoughts under static. V tried not feeling hurt at feeling pushed away. "Eh, gotta mull it over. For now: take me to North Oak.”

"That where Rogue went?" "Nah: Kerry. Tell you once we’re there.”

The road to North Oak was silent. V could feel an uncomfortable tension form, emanating from the rockerboy. Johnny was in a bad mood, and couldn't keep all his turmoil for himself. Emotions filtered through their bond. "Johnny? You alright?" V dared to ask after a while. "Preem." "You sure? Cause I feel this… knot… in-" “I'm the one in your head - not the other way 'round," he sharply replied, "Now, keep your eyes on the road."

Johnny made them stop near a pool of water under the North Oak sign. If the engram still seemed troubled, he seemed to relax ever so slightly as he looked up at the luxurious residences above them." “This oughta work.” “What are we doing here? “Heard Kerry got himself a buck a mansion here. Done well.” “Kerry Eurodyne? Yeah, he’s a pretty big deal, compared to what I saw in your memories. My sister had a huge Eurodyne phase. Went from town to town klepping anything that had his face on. Albums, magazines,...” “And you? Gonna behave yourself if you meet him up close?” Johnny seemingly couldn't help but barked.

“Was her thing, so I had to hate it, y’know how it goes. Music's preem, and Eurodyne always seemed pretty wild. Half his stories were more like controversies, and I did enjoy reading those. You two seemed to fight a lot, but I get why you got along." "Nah," he retorked harshly, "It probably was just an act. Only posed as a rebel to fit in. Was actually desperate not to step on any toes, Arasaka’s especially.” "Maybe he's changed. Like… Rogue has?" V suggested, though Alt's name came first in his mind. He was glad he avoided her name, Rogue's seemed to anger the rockerboy enough as it was. That spark of calmness suddenly died. "People can change V, but they can't suddenly grow balls. No. Read the screamsheets about him recently? Know what they write about him? He’s depressed, attempted suicide.” "Shit!" V let out, though the information didn't surprise him. Many fans knew about Eurodyne's unpredictable mental state, "You really afraid he’s gonna hurt himself?” “Who knows? Either way, could give him some pointers.” Those words made V realize Johnny had closed off his heart and mind to his host once more, protecting himself through tough words and a thougher attitude. Johnny wasn't alright, and V was certain it had to do with his recent rejection. "Johnny…" he called, grabbing his arm.

"Johnny, listen. I know something's not right, can feel it. Rogue rejected you, and that fucking sucks. But, lemme-" But once again, Johnny evaded his touch. "I said it before. I’ll say it again: not about Rogue. Now, get us inside that mansion, yeah?"

As Johnny walked back to the car, V couldn't help but listen to that cruel voice in the back of his head telling him that he was being ignored, left out. He hoped letting Johnny in control again would elevate the engram's mood, and maybe he would be thankful enough to remember V's presence.

[kyeop-tato]

A Knock on My Heart — 김선우

summary : one of your bestfriend, yeri, just got dumped by her boyfriend so in order to cheer her up, you and your friends decides to go on girls trip together during your school term break, promising to forget any boys that come between you and your friends. however, certain someone (or might i say a few) came into your life and the promise yall vow to not break, might actually crumble any moment. would you go back home solo or would sunwoo managed to steal your heart?

----------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 11 : Hey it's been awhile

Thank the heavens for your diligence in setting alarms every thirty minutes, otherwise, you might have missed the bus to school altogether. Last night’s choice to binge-watch reruns of Queen of Tears, despite your parents' gentle nudges for you to sleep early, was a glaring miscalculation. But isn’t it the human normal instinct to rebel against the very things that seek to restrain us? So of course, you didn't listen to what your parents had warned. And so, here you are, crammed into the bus, devouring a reheated egg sandwich with a fervor that belies your morning chaos.

As usual, the bus is a sardine can, brimming with adults rushing to their jobs, parents ushering their children off to pre-school, and students from every high school and university, each absorbed in their own worlds. You barely navigate through the dense crowd, finally finding yourself standing before an elderly woman seated beside her grandchild. You bow slightly, a reflex born of politeness, hoping to ease any discomfort your looming presence might caused to her. The elderly woman just returned back the favour.

You were too absorbed engaging a conversation with the elderly, not realising a tall figure stood beside you. Then, without warning, a nudge interrupted you. You turn to find Yunho grinning at you, and a wave of mixed emotions washes over you. "Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you," he says, his voice warm and familiar. Jeong Yunho—school pride, the star soccer player, and the second highest achiever in his class, seems to embody perfection itself. Good looks, intellect, talent; he possesses it all, earning the admiration of students and teachers alike.

Truth be told, back then, you harbored a substantial crush on him, and the two of you shared a history that now feels like a distant dream. That fateful day looms in your memory, a pivotal moment that shattered whatever bond you had. The surprise of his presence now feels disarming.

“Fancy seeing you here” you reply awkwardly, instantly regretting the banal exchange. Yunho raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “We literally go to the same school.” Stunned by his playful retort, you mentally chastise yourself for your apparent awkwardness. “Oh right...my bad. I guess I’m still under the holiday blues” you manage a dry laugh. He chuckles lightly, his gaze piercing through your facade. “I saw your trip to Japan on Instagram. How was it?”

“It was fun! Definitely a much-needed break” you reply, relieved to find some common ground. “I see,” he responds as the bus approaches your stop. Eager to escape, you make a hasty exit, nearly tripping as you disembark. Yunho’s reflexes save you, his hand catching your arm just in time. Apologies spill from your lips as other passengers grumble behind you. Once outside, you quickly mouth a “thank you” to him before dashing toward the school gates, leaving Yunho watching you fade into the crowd, a friend’s arm slinging casually over his shoulder.

----------------------------------------------------------

Inside the classroom, you struggle to focus, the numbers on the board swirling into a dizzying haze. Beside you, Doyeon doodles, blissfully unaware of the chaos in your mind. You envy her artistic talent sometimes, wishing you possessed even a fraction of it. The bell rings, signaling lunchtime, and relief washes over you.

“I can’t believe we’re already seniors. It’s insane,” Yeri exclaims, waiting for the cafeteria staff to serve her lunch. As you three settle at a table, you sense a familiar presence. Natty stands hesitantly, seeking permission to join you. It would be unthinkable to deny her, lest you be cast as the villain in one of those high school dramas.

Silence descends as Yeri and Doyeon exchange knowing glances, their eyes darting between you and Natty as you eat.

After freshening up in the restroom, Natty grabs your hand, leading you to a secluded corner. Suddenly, she kneels before you, an unusual gesture that prompts concern. “What are you doing? Get up,” you insist. “Please, forgive me. I was reckless that day! I don’t know what came over me. I was so stupid!”

Before she can spiral into a torrent of apologies, you hush her with a finger to her lips. “Okay, okay, I forgive you. At this rate, you could be a rapper” you tease. A grin spreads across Natty’s face as she links her arm through yours, playfully rubbing her cheek against your arms. You try to resist her affection, but her strength overcomes your resolve.

“Anyway, how are things with Sunwoo? Have you made a move yet?” you ask, curiosity piqued.

Natty halts, her expression shifting. “What’s wrong?” you probe. “Nah, nothing happened with him. I’ve moved on,” she replies, a grin lingering but devoid of sincerity.

“Just like that? Please tell me it’s not because of me”

“It’s not you, don’t worry. I just… fell out of love, I guess. Maybe it was just a holiday crush kind of thing” she insists, her lie palpable. The truth weighs heavy in the air, but you choose to trust her, burying your questions for the moment.

----------------------------------------------------------

The ticking of the clock becomes background noise, each second drawing you closer to your final class of the day—literature. Now, don’t get it wrong, you enjoy the subject itself; it’s the teacher that makes you want to crawl out of your skin. The way he drones on, his voice like a low hum, could put even a crying baby to sleep. And, apparently, you were no exception. Somewhere between the start of the lecture and your vague attempt at staying awake, you dozed off. Not that it mattered much, he seemed too indifferent to even bother waking you. Maybe he was feeling lenient, or maybe it was just the first day back, and he'd already resigned himself to the apathy of senior students.

Just as the class was preparing to pack up, your main teacher strolled in, clipboard in hand and an announcement ready on her lips. A collective groan rippled through the room. Everyone had thought they were seconds away from escaping the stuffy classroom.

"Alright, class" she began, her voice cutting through the tension, "I know you’re all in your senior year, and to kick it off, the school’s decided to hold an event. It’ll be open to the entire cohort, as well as the public. The goal? To raise funds for those less fortunate. So, let’s brainstorm and vote on what our class will contribute to the event."

The transformation in the room was instant. Where there had been the sluggish energy of a half-dead crowd moments before, now there was a burst of life. Your classmates, once as lethargic as zombies, suddenly brimmed with ideas and enthusiasm. You and your friend threw in your own suggestions, and after what felt like an eternity of back-and-forth, the class finally landed on a plan.

Good thing you’ve got some good-looking classmates, you mused, because without them, this idea probably wouldn’t have taken off at all.

----------------------------------------------------------

♡ prev | masterlist | next ♡

a/n : also hehe im back! tried to write a few chaps so i might upload them sooner. anw, yunho from ateez mentioned! i may add the other atz members too in upcoming chapters but no worries, their role won't be much in this fic :)

[btw ignore the timestamps, its has no meaning]

[thirtecnth]

Let's Get High and Play Truth or Dare

Setting: Yvette's Place Time: Just after the Winter Event Featuring: Beverly, Edgar (@edgarwayne), Yvette (@callofthxvoid), and Nathan (@ghostsbrokenbyfairytales)

Summary: In an attempt to cross something off Beverly's list and have a little fun, the group got together at Yvette's to get a little high and goof off. Waiting for the "cookies" to kick in, Bev had then suggested that they should play a little truth or dare so she could mark off two things at once... Chaos definitely ensued for everyone involved and certain realizations were made. It made for one unforgettable event.

Edgar: It was impossible to sit still in Yvette's living room. While the smell of cookies was enticing, and his friend promised wine to help ease the nerves, Edgar paced around the room. It was probably going to be fine. Totally fine. But he'd never done anything like this before and it was nervewracking. Hell, even bringing the bag of weed to work so he could give it to Yvette after hours left Edgar fingering his inhaler throughout the day. This was for Bev, he reminded himself. Technically for himself too, to help with the winter aches, but putting his friend first made it a little easier.

Beverly: Beverly watched Edgar pace and clasped her hands in her lap as they waited. This was all so strange. Cursing and skinny dipping was one thing, but she had always been told such nightmares about any kind of drug. She knew parts of what she was told were lies and she really seemed so confident before this but now she was here. It was really happening. As glad as she was to be doing this with friends, she was nervous too. “Edgar, you’re going to make me dizzy,” she said with a laugh, giving a glance to Nathan then back to Edgar. “Does anyone know how many we’re supposed to eat? Can you be allergic? I— I have questions here.” She really was breaking bad and it was all so strange.

Yvette: Yvette was used to being the wild child in any group that she was in. She was the rebel in her family, the free spirit in her college friend group, and the slightly eccentric mom at the PTA meetings, when those had still been a part of her life. "I made the cookies less potent than I would have if I was baking for an experienced group," she said in response to Bev's question, setting down the large plate of baked goods on the coffee table. "I still wouldn't advice having too many at once though. Eat one, wait for it to kick in, and go from there." She directed her gaze between her three companions for the evening. "Can I get you guys anything else?"

Nathan: nathan was half tempted to pull edgar down next to him while he watched him pace the room, he'd seen him this nervous for only a few different reasons but trying an edible wasn't one. "yeah basically what she already said, just take the one for now and if you think you can take a second one cause you're not feeling the first one... don't listen to that little voice. trust me." he chuckled and remembered back when he still lived in vegas, how weed was the drug he started with and spiraled from there so to say he was also a little nervous was an understatement.

Edgar: Edgar gave everyone an apologetic look as he forced himself to sit down. He took a cookie and stared at it, as if hoping it would contain the answers to all his questions. "How....how do you know when it's 'kicked in'? How long does that take?" Hesitantly he took a bite out of it, mulling the flavor. It tasted normal, perhaps a little bitter but overall just like a regular cookie. "So um...what do we do while we wait for it?" He looked back up to Yvette. "And maybe that glass of wine. Just to....take the edge off a little. Thank you though, Evie, for making these." His tone and expression was sincere.

Beverly: Beverly locked arms with Edgar as he sat down with them. She couldn’t help it, she was nervous, and he was in the same boat as her it seemed. She picked up a cookie after him and waited just a moment for the answer to his question from Nathan or Yvette. She honestly was confused about that too. Letting out a breath, she glanced up at the ceiling. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was looking for, but she knew how good it felt to distance herself from her parents, her upbringing, and her ex-fiancé. So, she took a bite, humming at the interesting flavor. “Well,” she said, covering her mouth as she chewed and swallowed. “In the spirit of doing teenage things, we could play truth or dare? That might be fun? It would take an extra one off my list too.” “Mmm! Yes. Wine. That’ll help with the game too maybe. Thank you.” She needed to feel something a little familiar. “That wouldn’t affect the high in any way, would it?”

Yvette: Yvette let out a soft 'ah!' before disappearing into the kitchen to fetch the wine. "Keep talking, I'm still listening!" she called out from the other room, picking up the bottle of wine, a bottle of water, and four glasses before heading back into the living room. "I'm up for playing Truth or Dare if you are. God, that brings me back to high school. My friends and I used to give some mean dares to each other." Setting the bottles and glasses down, she picked up a cookie and dropped down horizontally into her armchair, throwing her legs over the armrest as she bit into the cookie. "Hmm, you could get crossfaded," she explained in response to Beverly's question. "But if you only have a glass for nerves then you should be fine."

Nathan: the mention of wine made nathan tense up slightly, sure he wanted to drink and with anyone else a glass would be fine but he knew himself and decided it was best not to. “i’ll stick to water and the cookies for myself,” he said chuckling as he picked one up. taking a bite the taste was all too familiar, throwing an arm around the back of the couch to stop himself from doing any pda with edgar. “oh trust me you’ll know when it’s kicked in, the affects aren’t major but you’ll still be able to tell.” his eyebrow raised at the mention of truth or dare, giving a small shrug. “i’m down to play too, don’t think i’ve played since high school like yvette,” he said chuckling again. “i’m not good with coming up with shit on the spot so if i give anything stupid you’ve been warned already.”

Nathan: Feeling Nathan tense up beside him Edgar reached to squeeze his knee. "Well, we know who were the cool kids in this room," he teased lightly. "I've never played. Are we...supposed to spin a bottle or do we just pick someone?" He took another bite of the cookie, this time a larger portion, before taking a sip of the wine, forcing his shoulders to relax. It certainly helped to wash out the weird aftertaste of the cookie.

Beverly: Beverly giggled. “I was actually pretty popular in high school at least… Not that it means much because here I am, but I was prom queen my senior year.” Popular was definitely different than cool, however, that was overtly obvious at the moment. “It wouldn’t be a real game of truth or dare with mean and stupid dares so I expect the best out of both of you.” She took another bite of her cookie and nodded at Yvette’s advice, taking a nice sip of wine. One glass would probably be just fine. “As far as I know, we can go around clockwise or spin a bottle! However you both played in high school.”

Yvette: Yvette had another bite of her cookie. "Oh, I have every intention of giving you the authentic experience," she grinned, glancing at Bev before directing her attention to Nathan. "Don't worry, you're in good company. I'll be sticking to the water and cookies myself. At least for now." Partially it was because she didn't want Nathan to feel weird about not drinking, and partially it was because she felt responsible for making sure that Edgar and Bev were alright, given that it was their first time. "So, the way I usually played was that whoever did the Truth or Dare got to pick the next person. But I'm the host, so I'm going to get us started." She polished off her cookie. "Bev, Truth or Dare?"

Beverly: Beverly wasn't nervous at all... Well, maybe a little but she was sure that was a part of the fun. And at least she had both Nathan and Yvette to look after her. Somehow, that made it all easier. "Mmm! Okay! I like that." She finished off her first cookie, believing it wouldn't be her first, but here she was. "Oh! Me? I guess that does make sense... I'll say truth. Ease myself in."

Yvette: Yvette shifted in the armchair, leaning forward and tucking her legs underneath herself, head resting in the palm of her hand as she considered what to ask Bev. "Okay, I've got one," she said eventually, grinning at her friend. "What's going on with you and Mr. Blonde Ranger?"

Beverly: Beverly sipped from her wine, feeling a little more comfortable as time went on.... Though that all changed back very quickly as the truth question came out. "Oh-- Um, Elijah?" She asked, as if she didn't already know. She swallowed hard. "We made a snowman at the ice skating party? He's a great partner there." She didn't quite understand saying the full truth here.

Edgar: Edgar rolled his eyes at Bev. "Are we doing a penalty for a bullshit answer?" He looked pointedly at his friend before finishing the last of his cookie.

Yvette: Yvette had similarly rolled her eyes at the exact same time as Edgar. "I wasn't going to, but I feel like we have to if it's that much of a bullshit answer, right?" she agreed, looking back at Edgar. "As the one who suggested it, I nominate you as the distributor of the penalty."

Edgar: Oh god, he wasn't expecting to be in charge of penalties. Like Edgar said, he wasn't exactly the cool kid growing up, he'd never played games like this. Frantically he thought through Bev's bucket list. Oh. That could work. With slightly tinged cheeks he said with as much confidence as he could muster "strip penalty."

Beverly: Beverly wasn't at all expecting there to be a punishment. She thought it worked because she was saying something mostly true. Her eyes went back and forth between all three of them, furrowing her brows. "Oh, come on, it was mostly true." But now her attention was all on Edgar's punishment. "Edgar!" She said, stunned. "I-- how much do I have to strip here? Do I have to do a little dance? Then say the whole truth or whatever? Or can I just say the whole truth now." She had questions and red cheeks.

Edgar: Edgar's eyes widenned as so many questions went his way. Shit, it's not like he really thought it through. "Um....you just take off one piece of clothing unless you give the real answer. Right?" He looked desperately to Nathan and Yvette, feeling completely out of his league.

Nathan: nathan looked between the two and back at edgar, holding a hand up in defense. “the only stripping that happened when i played truth or dare was when it was on the dare, yvette’s gonna have to confirm that one not me.”

Yvette: Yvette considered the situation before delivering her judgement with the same gravitas as if she were handing down a sentence at trial. "Yes, you can choose between losing one item of clothing or telling the whole truth," she concluded. "Think of the stripping as a... Chicken tax. It's the tax you pay if you want to be a chicken and not answer properly."

Beverly: Raising a brow, Beverly let out a breath and nodded. "Fineeee," she said, pulling her shirt over her head. It wasn't much of a problem to be in a bra when she just went skinny dipping with the guy she was answering about. "He's incredibly hot and funny and he could pound me into my headboard until I see God..." She took a sip of her wine after that joke. "On a serious note, I have a giant crush on him."

Edgar: Edgar's own brows shot up, face warming up not only at what Bev said but also at her still stripping. God, why did he suggest this? He cleared out his throat. "We're all rooting for you Bevvie. Now pick someone."

Beverly: Edgar's reaction was the highlight of the punishment. She just wished she wasn't so cold all the time. Smiling, she tilted her head at Edgar. "Thank you. Trying my best but my brain is a mess... Edgar. Truth or dare."

Edgar: He blinked, surprised Bev picked him next. "Um...truth?"

Beverly: Bev smiled to herself, doing her best to think of something challenging. "What's a secret you've never told anyone?"

Edgar: His brows furrowed in thought. What was a secret he's never told anyone? Well...wasn't really a secret per se but it's not like he really shared it either. "Well, uh, out there," he gestures to the 'rest of the world,' "I'm....really stupidly rich. Like the sole heir to an estate rich. I had most of the money put into real estate and stocks to keep it going, plus I donate quite a bit into charities. But. Uh, yeah. I guess you could say I come from a line of aristocrats." He shrugged. "Anyway, Nathan, truth or dare."

Nathan: "uhh," well that was sure as hell a lot to process, keeping his gaze on the water bottle in his hand. "i guess continue the pattern and give me a truth?"

Edgar: When Nathan didn't meet his gaze Edgar tried to not let it bother him. Did...did that secret unnerve the other man. He tried to swallow, his mouth starting to feel a bit dry. He downed the rest of his wine. "What made you realize you were bi?"

Nathan: nathans gaze shifted from the water bottle to edgars legs, moving his arm from the couch to around his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "i.. don't actually know." he chuckled and finally looked up at him and only him. "kind of a cop out response i know but i genuinely don't remember what made me realize, i just know i've always liked men and women so."

Edgar: Edgar pouted at that reply. "Is that strip worthy? That feels strip worthy." Still, he smiled at the shoulder squeeze, anxiety clearing up.

Nathan: he rolled his eyes playfully and shrugged, "i figured it would be." he chuckled and moved his arm for a moment, taking his shirt off quickly and putting it in his lap as he put the arm wrapped back around his shoulder. "so yvette, truth or dare?

Yvette: Yvette shifted in the armchair, looking completely at ease in spite of the now two shirtless people in the room, before glancing over at Nathan when he addressed her. "Well, someone has to be the one to break the streak here," she started, reaching for a glass to pour herself some water. "Dare."

Nathan: well shit, now he’s gotta think of a dare. “uh,” nathan didn’t think that far ahead as he scoured the files in his brain for a dare that wouldn’t be inappropriate, “i dare you too…” he glanced at edgar now, “help me out?”

Edgar: Edgar raised his brows, not knowing why Nathan was looking to him for suggesetions. Let alone being put on the spot, his mind was drawing complete blanks. He absently wondered if he was starting to 'feel' the cookie. Shit, what were normal teenager dares? "Uh...make out with Bev?"

Beverly: Beverly was just happy the attention was off her for a moment. It was so cute to see Edgar and Nathan together. She sat in anticipation for the dare and finished her wine, only for her eyes to get big. She swallowed her wine down hard. “I’m sorry?” She said, her cheeks burning bright red. Well that escalated quickly again for her.

Edgar: Edgar's eyes only managed to get wider as his panicked suggestion caught up with him. "I-if that's okay? Fuck I don't know. You're asking the guy that's never played this!" He held up his hands in self-defense, face red.

Yvette: Yvette glanced between the people in front of her before shrugging. "Well, I do have a boyfriend, but seeing as he recently got into a fight with a movie star for sleeping with his fiancé, I think I'm allowed a pass," she reasoned, seeming quite calm about the whole thing. "I'm okay with it if you're okay with it." She looked at Bev with a questioning expression.

Beverly: Beverly was confused how she was so calm about this compared to her. Then again, maybe Yvette hadn’t had intrusive thoughts about this like she had. Shaking her head from the thought, Bev shrugged, pretending to suddenly be calm. “I’m fine, it’s only a dare,” she said, holding her hands in her lap politely. “All you. Whatever you wanna do.”

Yvette: Yvette smiled, glancing over at Edgar and Nathan before getting up from the armchair and stepping closer, using one arm to support herself against the back of the couch. With her other hand, she gently tucked a strand of hair behind Bev's ear before cupping her cheek. "Remember, you can pull away at any time and I won't be offended," she said, before leaning in to kiss her.

Edgar: Edgar felt the strong need to look away, turning instead to glance at Nathan. He felt like his face was on fire, though the cookie may have had a part in it.

Beverly: Beverly's eyes were only on Yvette as she got up moved closer, only glancing to see where her arm was at the moment. She blinked, her cheeks bright and warm as her hair was tucked behind ear then leaned into her palm. "Yeah. Yeah of course," she stated softly, closing her eyes as the gap closed and she was left to gently touch Yvette arm to stay steady.

Edgar: Just to remind the women they were still there, Edgar politely cleared his throat as he filled his glass with water. "So uh...your turn to pick someone Evie. By the way, I'm starting to feel....tingly? Is that a thing?"

Yvette: Yvette kissed Beverly softly, slowly deepening the kiss as her hand moved from her friend's cheek to the back of her neck, until she heard Edgar clear his throat. Pulling back, she smiled at Bev before turning to look at her other best friend. "It was your idea," she quipped back, picking up her glass of water and sitting back down in the armchair. "But tingly is good. Tingly means you're getting there. Which I guess is as a good a time as any to say: Eddie, truth or dare?"

Edgar: "I don't even know why it was my idea," he whined. "Daaa-truth." A dare from Yvette was terrifying and she nearly got it out of him.

Beverly: Beverly sighed softly into her friend's lips, her mind becoming mush for the moment until Yvette pulled back. She was smiling and it was definitely not a conscious effort. For a moment, she was processing then nodded to her friends. "I think-- I think I like both? Both. Both is good," she giggled, definitely feeling tingly and high herself. "Now that was a kiss, everyone. That's how it's done."

Yvette: Yvette glanced at Bev and offered her a playful wink. "Hey, anytime, that's what friends are for," she commented with a grin, before looking back at Edgar. "Chicken, but okay. Hmm..." Leaning forward, she broke a cookie in half and sat back down, nibbling at it as she pondered. She had a thought, but that one seemed a little too mean even for her. "What's the worst date you've ever been on?"

Edgar: He suddenly burst into laughter at the wink, surprise coloring his features as he covered his mouth. "Sorry. Sorry. I just - all this time I pushed for you two to get boyfriends. Never considered the other option." His laughter spilled past his hand. Okay, so maybe he was feeling the weed now. It took him a while to calm down before he blinked back at Yvette, trying to remember the question. "Oh, right. Uh, oh! God, I know. It was back in college. One of the first real dates I'd ever been on, which okay, it was the early 2000s so I'll give the guy some slack. But anyway, I was so excited, trying to think up all the different things we could do, places we could go. Instead we just walked to the chippy down the road from campus. When he told me that was the plan I burst out laughing thinking he was teasing me. I mean, that's where everyone goes for lunch, why would he choose that for a date. But nope, he was totally serious. Even got mad at me for laughing." It took him a moment to realize his friends were staring at him. "Oh oh right, a chippy's a...kind of like a taco truck, but for fish and chips." Edgar tilted his head at the other half of the cookie on the plate. "Can....I take it? Is that okay?"

Nathan: nathan stared at edgar for a moment, blinking a few times as it all processed. "that... really? there's literally so much he could've done and he chose that?" he shook his head, he didn't think he was the romantic type most the time but he would've done more than that. he chuckled as he shook his head then looked at the cookie, "oh that's fine with me if no one else wants it." he said taking a sip of his water.

Edgar: Edgar took the cookie half, shrugging. "Shocker we didn't date long. Alright Bevvie, your turn. Truth or Dare?"

Beverly: "Mmm, why are some men so--" Beverly glanced at the ceiling then shrugged. "--Bland?" Either way, it brought a smile to her face that Nathan wouldn't give Edgar the bare minimum. She sat up in her seat, preparing herself this time. "I have to try it at least once. Dare."

Edgar: Edgar pouted slightly at that. "Hey, we're not bland. Well....okay, he's not bland" he points to Nathan. Actually, he was glad Bev picked dare. For anyone else it would have been silly, but he had the perfect one for her. "Say every single swear word you can think of loud and proud." He bit into the cookie with a smile.

Beverly: "That's why I say some. You both are exceptions." Beverly brought her knees up to her chest, being that she was a little cold at this point. "Oh, you know I have never said every single one," she said, sighing. "Fuck, shit, piss, ass, asshole, whore, dick..." She furrowed her brows, "Did... Did I get them all? I don't even know at this point." She was also just blushing. It was very much not her.

Edgar: Edgar shook his head with a smile. "Aw c'mon Bevvie, you can think of more than that. And louder. Like you mean it."

Beverly: Beverly frowned, letting out a very deep breath. "Damn. Bastard. Bitch. That's a good one. Goddamn! Son of a bitch... oh! This is bullshit. Motherfucker. Bloody Hell." she said that one with a smirk at Edgar. "Twat? Yeah? Yeah... I guess that leaves the big C?" That one bugged her the most. "Mmm, cunt. There. I think that's it now." It was like they had all just been stored like files in her brain.

Edgar: His smile grew into a grin. "Think that covers all of them. Your turn to pick someone."

Beverly: She was just about a tomato, but hey, that was a fourth one done here... She was making major progress. With a smug smile, she turned. "Nathan. Truth or dare?"

Nathan: nathan was a bit zoned out when he heard his name, looking behind edgar’s head at beverly. “truth, only cause i don’t want to move.”

Beverly: Beverly took a moment to think and then it came to her. Might as well cause a little havoc. “What are your true honest feelings for our dear husband, Edgar?”

Edgar: Edgar quickly looked over at Nathan. "Y-you can strip if you're more comfortable. I won't be upset."

Nathan: he paused for a moment, slowly looking at edgar with a smile and gave the smallest of shrugs. “that one day i wanna make him my actual husband. that he makes me the happiest i’ve ever been with anyone i’ve ever been with before and i don’t want to lose that feeling. ever. that he’s the smartest most kindest and understanding man who makes me want to be a better person. i don’t think i’ve ever loved and trusted someone the way i do edgar, he makes it so easy.” nathan chuckled and to break up the sappy with a joke that wasn’t really a joke but still more truth, “and he’s great in bed so that’s a plus.” he smirked at him but that quickly changed into a grin.

Edgar: He tried his best to blink back tears as he stared at Nathan in shock. His throat felt tight as he tried to say something, anything until a strangled laugh escaped him at Nathan's last comment. "Really? That's how you end it?" Wiping at his face with one hand, he put down the glass of water before fully turning back to Nathan, grabbing his face, and pulling him into a kiss. Nothing extreme, but enough to tell Nathan what he thought of all that.

Nathan: he laughed when edgar did, ending it like that on purpose because if the tears he already knew were gonna form. “couldn’t help myself, it’s not like i was lying.” clearly he wasn’t gonna go into details that’s for him and edgar to know about. the kiss was unexpected but he gladly kissed back, still not used to any form of pda with edgar because of figuring out where the others comfort level was at. pulling away with a smile he let his fingers run through the back of his hair then looked at yvette, “alright miss principal, truth or dare?”

Yvette: Yvette watched the whole scene unfolding between Nathan and Edgar with a big, dorky smile on her face, occasionally glancing at Bev to see if she was having a similar reaction to it. After the kiss, she held her cookie half between her lips before clapping. "Damn, that's some real sappy shit, but it works for both of you," she commented, holding the cookie again and taking a bite out of it. "Hmmm... Well, you all have been honest, or at least most of you, so I'll go with truth this time."

Nathan: nathan rolled his eyes playfully at her, his cheeks turning a very light shade of pink. he was used to being sappy to edgar privately but not in front of people. “alright truth then,” he paused for a second to think this time trying not to use edgar as a cop out (sorry bev), “what’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?”

Yvette: Yvette tilted her head to the side as she considered Nathan's question. A few options sprang to mind, but every time she thought that she knew what to say, she remembered that she had already told that particular secret to someone—usually someone in this room, or... Reggie... "I'm still in love with my husband," she blurted out, before slamming her hand in front of her mouth. "I mean... My ex-husband. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy he's happy, and I'm happy in my relationship, and I want to move on, but..." She shrugged. "You don't just say those vows to someone and then forget about them. I meant them, and there's a part of me that probably always will."

Nathan: “shit.” nathan mumbled when yvette spilled that secret and felt a little bad about asking that specific question now. he looked at the other two unsure of what to say, those two knew her better than he did anyway and felt it was best to let one of them take the reigns on saying something.

Beverly: Beverly swallowed hard, overwhelmed a little with her answer and what precisely to say. At least she had corrected herself quickly, right? She gave the other girl a smile. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that," Bev stated softly, holding her hands in her lap. "When you make those vows, it's a promise. A deep dedication to someone..." She started and then shrugged. "You lose a piece of yourself when you leave something serious like that. It becomes part of your history and always will be. It's okay to love someone and want the best for them but know they served their purpose in your life and now you're in a new chapter."

Edgar: Quietly Edgar got off the couch and walked behind the armchair Yvette was sitting on so he could place his chin on her head and give her the best of a hug as he could in such an awkward position. "Your feelings are normal Evie. I'm glad you both have your own happiness now and I hope it stays that way. You know, a part of me still cares about Christian, and I can admit he doesn't even deserve it. We can't help it when someone's been in our life for a long time; it's hard to erase the past." Hoping to elevate the mood a bit he added, "I'll take that dare now."

Yvette: Yvette wondered idly if she would have confessed that if she hadn't been high. A part of her felt like stripping would have been preferable, but another part of her was almost relieved to have said it out loud, her whole being feeling lighter for the secret being out there. Reaching up, she gave Edgar's arm a brief squeeze before smiling at everyone in the room. "Thank you all," she said softly, before letting out a short laugh. "Okay, I think it goes without saying that everything said here never leaves this room." Glancing up at Edgar, she had a mischievous look in her eyes as she tilted her head to the side. "Hmm, a good dare for Eddie... Well, I would dare you to make out with Nathan to get you back, but where's the fun in that?"

Edgar: Edgar rolled his eyes, letting go of Yvette to stand up straight and cross his arms. "Oh c'mon, that's barely a dare...minus the publicness of it. But I'm probably high enough it wouldn't even bother me. I agree to one dare and that's the best you guys give me?" Was he going to regret that? Probably.

Yvette: Yvette laughed and shrugged. "Okay, but remember, you asked for it," she replied. "There is a Truth or Dare classic that we haven't done yet. Prank calls." She look at Edgar. "Edgar, I dare you to prank call... Hmm... Marco. Or you can forfeit, but you know the rules if you do."

Edgar: He blinked in surprise. "Oh um, okay. But....can I get help? I think the cookies are really hitting. My mind is completely blank." Thinking about it, he raised his hands and looked at them in surprise. "Huh. The pain is pretty much gone too. Still stiff...but I don't really feel the usual aches."

Nathan: “you can prank call him and just tell some random ass story and then hang up before he can say anything? it’d be funny if he asks you about it next time and you can just pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about.” nathan suggested.

Beverly: "I actually think that's a great idea," Beverly said, holding in some laughter. For some reason, she found it all very funny. "We could all play along with it at that point."

Edgar: Edgar looked down at Yvette, brows raised. She was the final voice on this.

Yvette: Yvette nodded. "The council has decreed it shall be so!" And then, with a grin, she gently nudged Edgar in the direction of her landline.

Edgar: Edgar picked up the phone, about to punch in the number, when he blinked and looked over his shoulder. "Do you know Marco's number?"

Yvette: Yvette did know Marco's number. However, Yvette had currently forgotten what Marco's number was, although she did remember that she had it written down somewhere. "Uhm... OH!" Getting to her feet, she held her hands out to steady herself, a brief 'woah' escaping her lips before she managed to scramble to her desk. Flipping through a notebook, she found the page with all of the staff members' landlines and brought it over to Edgar. "Ironically, I think it was Marco's idea that I keep this. Bet he's gonna regret that."

Edgar: He snickered as Yvette needed to steady herself. Guess even the experienced were feeling it. Edgar took the notebook and squinted in concentration as he input the numbers. He was still struggling to come up with a 'random ass story,' and didn't have any more time to dwell on it as the line picked up. "Marco, hi, did you know that tongues have unique prints?" He swallowed, trying to ignore the dryness in his mouth. "I wonder if that ever comes up at crime scenes. Like the investigators try to find tongue prints or they see some wet spots and figure they should collect the print just in case. Since they're so unique I wonder why there isn't a tongue print database. Dentists could probably keep track of it. They could solve crimes so easily like that...assuming it's something that even comes up that often. Although I wonder if multiple licks ruins the pattern and doesn't overlap like fingerprints since it's not a dry surface." At this point he was purely rambling, between being nervous, the weed, and genuinely not knowing what the hell he was supposed to be doing. As his ramble came to a lull Edgar's entire face lit up at what Marco said on the other line. "R-right. Of course. Have a good night Marco. See you on Monday." He hung up the receiver and let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. "That....was humiliating." Well, he wasn't even the one keeping a bucket list but now Edgar could say he prank called someone.

Nathan: nathan walked up to edgar and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and put his chin on his shoulder. "that was i think the most randomest thing you've ever said where did that even come from?" he chuckled and shook his head a bit. "does this mean it's my turn?"

Edgar: He shook his ow head, though smiled at the hug. "I panicked. It was the first thing I could think of. I think technically it's Bev's turn." Edgar turned around to press a kiss to Nathan's cheek before nudging him back to the couch. "Truth or dare Bev?"

Beverly: Beverly had giggled plenty as Edgar went on and on. It was just great to see him doing something so silly. She hadn’t at all realized she hadn’t gone in a while. “Hmm? Me?” She asked, dazed but bubbly. “Mmm, I don’t think I want to move. So truth.”

Edgar: Edgar hummed in thought as he got comfortable on the couch, moving to sit against Nathan. "What is the most embarrassing thing you've ever experienced?"

Beverly: “The most embarrassing thing you’ve— i’ve ever experienced,” she mused, squinting her eyes as she searched through all her memories. “Oh! Okay. I hate this one. So, it’s kind of a thing in Utah to make out near the church? Or the temple on special occasions, see… And it was my first anniversary with Spencer— my ex-fiancé— and we decided to go because we were all hyped up on soda and emotions.” She paused, drawing in a deep breath so she wouldn’t start laughing early. “It started off all clumsy and terrible but then we were all serious and heavy and gross.” She shivered. “Anyway, one of my brothers was doing temple ordinances and he see’s the back of Spence’s car as he leaves. So he tries to get in the backseat… He opened the door to us and just cue the screaming from all parties.” She giggled to herself. “We couldn’t look at each other directly for almost a month.”

Edgar: Edgar shook his head in disbelief. "The same Bevvie who got caught skinny dipping says her most embarrassing moment is her brother finding her making out with her boyfriend. You're something else."

Beverly: “I was with a hot guy! I honestly thought that was gonna stay between him and I,” Beverly said, giggling still. “My brother seeing his sister like that was the WORST.”

Elijah: He let out his own laugh. "You keep saying how hot he is, I feel like I need to see him now."

Beverly: “Have I said that a lot? That doesn’t sound like me, sir.” She shrugged. “He’s a ranger, shouldn’t be hard to find.”

Nathan: “pffft, that’s it?” nathan chuckled while he was sat on the couch next to edgar again and let him get comfortable against him before wrapping his arm around his shoulder.

Edgar: Edgar turned to look at Nathan brows raised. "I'd say truth or dare but you Mr. Dawson haven't done a single dare." Was he being a little defensive for Bev's sake? Maybe. But it was a bonus to also rile up Nathan.

Beverly: “Yeah! What do you mean that’s it, mister sir I hadn’t even said all the curse words until tonight.” Beverly shook her head, much like a disappointed teacher. “Should I just give him a truth then? Since he’s not very much too daring?”

Nathan: “i mean it’s tame compared to some of the shit i’ve done embarrassing myself. it was supposed to be a compliment, came out funny my bad.” nathan chuckled and shook his head. “i was gonna pick dare anyway.” he teased knowing he can’t use the excuse of not moving though the only reason he had was because he was being clingy.

Edgar: Edgar grinned over to Bev, knowing they won. "It's all yours Bev. Gotta get back at him for the 'that's it.'"

Nathan: nathan raised an eyebrow. “yeah bev, do your worst.”

Beverly: “I don’t know if you’re ready for my worst,” Beverly teased, glancing up at the ceiling. Now she had something to prove. She tried to think of her list for something spicy and finally, there it was. “I dare you to give our dear friend Edgar a lap dance,” she stated proudly, smirking at the both of them.

Edgar: Edgar looked between Bev and Nathan, face growing darker by the second. "Y-you can always strip if that's....easier."

Beverly: “That will also count,” Beverly added, still smiling.

Nathan: nathan stared at bev and blinked a few times then back at edgar, his own cheeks flushing pink. "i uh," he chuckled a bit rubbed the back of his neck, "strip like.. just how we've been doing or strip like... ya know."

Edgar: Edgar's face grew even brighter. "I-I mean, either...or."

Beverly: Beverly smiled more politely now. She'd have mercy. "You don't have to do it here, there's a perfectly good bedroom over there. I'll give you five whole minutes."

Nathan: he debated for a while, the idea was enticing he had to admit but he wasn't sure he could do it without liquid courage and he was swearing that off in a matter of days. "i'm just gonna." nathan unbuckled his pants and sat up some, pulling them down and off before sitting back down in his boxers. "sorry." he mumbled to edgar and wrapped an arm back around his shoulder.

Edgar: Even so he couldn't help the way he stared as Nathan took off his pants. Damn. Maybe he'd have to ask for a private show later then. "R-right. So...I think it's Evie's turn."

Yvette: Yvette's only response to watching Nathan take off his pants was to raise her eyebrows and then look over at Edgar. "Eddie, if I haven't told you congratulations yet, then congratulations," she teased, before dropping back down into her armchair. She considered the two options before shrugging. "Fuck it, why not end with a bang? Dare."

Edgar: At the tease Edgar's face lit up. He was well aware of how lucky he was. Perhaps too lucky. Still he cheered as Yvette opted for a dare. He kept his fingers crossed Nathan picked a good one to end the game on.

Nathan: nathan thought long and hard about a dare (it was me googling) for yvette and finally decided on one that felt okay enough. “i dare you to eat a raw onion like an apple.” he said with an innocent smile.

Yvette: Yvette stared at him in disbelief. "Evil. Diabolical. And after I invited you into my home and everything." Still, she stood up and carefully made her way into the kitchen, coming back out with an entire onion. "Am I at least allowed to peel it first?"

Nathan: nathan tapped his chin in thought. "you know what? since you're not the reason i'm in my boxers right now i'll let you peel it."

Edgar: Edgar rolled his eyes. "You say that like you have a problem being half naked."

Nathan: "i do when there's two other people here that don't normally see me in my underwear so ha.

Yvette: "Whelp, guess there goes the idea of doing a sexy fireman calendar," Yvette teased as she focused on peeling the onion—which was taking a lot more effort than usual due to her state. "Nathan doesn't want to be half naked in front of anyone who isn't Eddie." When she had peeled about half the onion, she shrugged and figured that was good enough for now, before biting into it and immediately grimacing. "Oh, yuuuuuck," she mumbled, her eyes watering from the onion. Covering her mouth, she glanced up at Nathan. "Permission to spit this out?"

Edgar: Though Yvette wasn't drinking Edgar still poured a small amount of wine and got up to hand her the glass. Water was not going to wash out that taste. He sent Nathan a look as if warning him to not be mean.

Beverly: “We tried our best,” Beverly replied softly, watching as Yvette peeled the onion. It was interesting and she was very transfixed on it. She visibly winced as the other took a bite and stuck out her tongue. As soon as the initial grossness went away, she only laughed at the situation, calling out without even thinking, “spitters are quitters, Yvette!“

Nathan: nathan felt his cheeks warm slightly at the tease but glanced over at edgar when she asked for permission, catching the look (he's in my head doing that shrek face. you know the one? please tell me you know the one.) and despite laughing at what beverly had said, he nodded. "i don't want to sleep on the couch tonight so permission granted, unless the spitters are quitters thing gets ya going."

Yvette: As soon as she was granted permission, Yvette rushed to the trashcan and spit out the chunk of onion she had bitten off, before walking back and taking the glass of wine from Edgar. "Bev, you know damn well that sentence doesn't apply to this situation," she quipped back, before gulping down most of the wine in the glass. "There are plenty of situations I'm not a quitter in if you catch my drift." She winked, but it turned into more of a wince at the aftertaste of onion. "Well. That sure was a way to wrap things up."

Edgar: Edgar turned red at the suggestion, shaking his head. "Not something I ever needed to know, thanks Evie." He bent down to grab Nathan's clothes, holding them up for the other. "Thanks for hosting all this. It was actually pretty fun."

Beverly: Beverly was already in the middle of putting her shirt back on as she hugged each of her friends close. "Thank you all... This would've been impossible without you and I just-- love you all so much." She had plenty marked off the list now and she really had never felt better.

[chaoticrebels]

✪ 。゜ ⠀ ☆ 。゜ ⠀ ★ Continued » { Loki }

✦ —   * ⠀ / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀﹕⠀ ❪ @legends-and-savages ❫

Don't mind me, I just thought I'd move the thread to an easier to trim post lol.

“That is good.”  Loki said.  He appreciated Carol, but she tended to overreact just slightly.  It didn’t help that he probably was a little more mischievous then he could be, but it was fine.  He was going to be safe at least he could do that.  “The Time Variance Authority so yes it’s got to do with time and variants, but that’s a whole thing.”  Loki said.  “I was starting to wonder, but that is right.  I got out and ended up with the TVA, so I’m not the main reality version of your father.” Loki said.  But he knew what happened to that counterpart all the same.  A nod from him.  “You should not go first.  That defeats the purpose of keeping you safe.”  He said.  “Even without my magic I’m not defenseless.”  He said.

❝Mhm..❞ Honestly as much as Storm loved to cause a little mischief and chaos at times, lately he's been trying to keep himself out of trouble. After all he's caused enough and he didn't want to disappoint his mother and uncle any farther, well his father now as well. ❝Hm, so basically time police. And yet the Avengers were allowed to mess with the timeline, fascinating. And I am assuming variants mean other versions of ourselves from different timelines.❞ Then came the rest, which caused him to squeeze his eyes shut momentarily as he sighed. So he was definitely right, this wasn't HIS father but another version of him. ❝My father is dead, like not coming back this time, dead. So no, you couldn't be him but that doesn't matter because you are still my father. But if you escaped and ended up in the TVA then that means, if I'm correct, they aren't letting other versions thrive. And that makes them villians in a way, I hope they know that.❞ The rebel stated candidly. Yeah, they may not be the main version of themselves to the other but it definitely didn't matter, this proved it. ❝Well it's a bit more safe to have someone in the middle but you know, lead the way.❞ He said before nodding. ❝Well yeah, I know you aren't completely defenseless but you don't know what kind of dangers this place may hold so it's better safe than sorry.❞