#expect to accomplish a LOT tomorrow too!

[starbuck]

this morning i was just living life as usual and now i have applied for one of my dream (seasonal) jobs and have mountain goats tickets so like. :))

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Eyes on the Mirror - part 1

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 2631 Summary: You're at a turning point in your relationship with Frankie, he tells you that his mother insists on meeting you. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears dresses, heels and uses make-up, no other description of her is given, no mention of her skin tone and she doesn't blush, no description of her hair, Frankie can lift her but he’s a hunk of a men you know, mention of food, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, kissing, mention of unprotected p in v, nipples play (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), panties in mouth (don't know how it's called in English, I just know that I like it lol), Frankie is our canon PEK and also the perfect boyfriend okay, mention of being caught (well, to be more specific, to be heard lol), pet names. Let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: This has been a long journey and I think it took me longer than expected. Second part is coming tomorrow. It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more Anyway, let me say a few thanks because I can't believe I had two people volunteer to be my beta, I'm very lucky. Kate @aurorawritestoescape and Ally @arcanefox207 The fact alone that you took some time to read and proofread my stuff is so important to me and you have given me so many helpful suggestions and advice, I am very grateful ❤️ Thank you Odi @joelmillerisapunk , to let me blather, to cheer me up, to always have the right words, I don't know how you do it, you're literally a gem ❤️ We’re going back to the emotional unavailable men agenda asap but for the moment I hope you’ll enjoy my lover boy neighbor!Frankie who is crazy about his girl 🥰  English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist ⎮ part 2

You and Frankie have been together for four months now, and you’re incredibly happy. Your neighbor, the man you spent a year hating, revealed himself as the best man you’ve ever been in a relationship with. 

You haven't said “I love you” to each other yet, you're taking it slow and you're perfectly fine with that, you know you have strong feelings for him but you don't know if he's ready to say it and the last thing you want is to ruin the best relationship you've had because of words said too soon. 

So you respect his timing without forcing his hand. And still you often think you don't even really need to say it, all you really want is to keep being with him, the man who can make you laugh in a second, with whom you like to do everything from the most mundane things like grocery shopping and running errands, to talking for hours and sharing everything with him, cooking, going to parties and concerts, even bickering. 

And sex. 

Oh, Frankie is a fucking magician. 

The most shockingly fiery and at the same time sweet lover you've ever had. 

You feel you can be yourself at all times with him, he knows your flaws and frailties and accepts them. And from where you were starting out it already feels like a considerable accomplishment. You never thought that the man who used to spend time judging you, once you penetrated his armor, was actually such a tolerant and nonjudgmental person.

You haven't moved in together, but you spend almost every night together, and yet, you are still trying to navigate your relationship without making the other one run off before taking the next step.

So when Frankie tells you that his mother would love to meet you, you get a little scared but you try to put on a good face.

"You really don't mind?" he prods you. 

You can never hide anything from him; Frankie has an ability to read your mind, the talent that you had never found in a man. 

His eyes scan you and he has a cunning little smile as he’s standing on the other side of the table, eating the eggs you prepared for him. 

“Yeah, don't worry, it's okay,” you nod, your movement a little forced, and Frankie notices it. 

“You're nervous, huh? Look it's normal,” he tries to reassure you, his hand slides across the table until it meets yours. 

He squeezes it gently and then intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I'm sorry, she's been nagging me for at least a month now, I've managed to keep her at bay until now but she grilled me yesterday and told me that she was expecting us for dinner on Friday.”

“Yeah...I just feel a little pressure, you know, but it's okay,” you admit.

“Babe, she will like you very much, I'm sure.”

You look into his eyes, those big eyes the color of coffee and chocolate, and the comfortable glow they give off immediately takes away part of the weight you feel on your chest. 

“Are you sure?” you murmur.

“Of course!” he smiles at you, ”Well, you're a little sassy but...”

You slap his hand “Frankie! You're not helping me!” you complain. 

“Come on, I'm kidding. She’s going to adore you, I have no doubt about it,” he chuckles.

“Mmmm we’ll see” you still mumble with uncertainty.

"Come here," he says softly. 

You get up and walk over to him before he welcomes you on his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck. He rests his forehead on yours looking into your eyes and repeats softly, “she will adore you…not as much as I do but she sure will”

The thing is this with him, he's been circling around that word for weeks, so you're pretty sure he's going to confess sooner or later.

"What if she doesn't like me?" you ask him and bite your lip, looking at him expectantly.

“Uh, I don't want to stop fucking you, you know... so, you'll have to stay in a clandestine relationship while I'm dating a woman, personally chosen by my mom.” 

You kiss him, muttering “god, you're so...” 

He giggles and asks "what am I like?" tightening his grip on your waist a little tighter and pulling you closer to his chest, your tits pressed against him. 

“An incredibly lovely fucking bastard.”

________________________________________

You are in the kitchen preparing dinner, which in your case means putting take-out pizza on plates, as you hear Frankie come in. 

“Hey, are you here?” 

He gave you his keys a few weeks ago to make it easier for you to get around.

“In the kitchen!” you shout to him. 

You hear his footsteps approaching from the hallway until he comes in with a bag. 

“Hey, baby.” 

You walk up to him to give him a kiss, he immediately puts down the bag and hugs you tightly. “mmm I missed you. What's for dinner?” 

“Pizza,” you tell him smiling through your eyelashes and stealing another kiss, his beard tickling your cupid's bow pleasantly “And I was thinking about…uhm…your cock for dessert.”

He squeezes your butt, chuckling, “So eager, huh?”

“For you? Always,” you purr, looking into his eyes, veiled with desire.

His stomach grumbles slightly making you giggle, “Do you want to eat first?” 

“Uh, no,” he whispers, and as he does so he slips two fingers under the straps of your dress and pulls it off, letting it slide to the floor. 

You're in your panties in front of him, no bra, he looks at you spellbound with a smirk that unknowingly puckers his lips, "do you know how beautiful you are?" 

His eyes move from your face down to the crease of your neck, your cleavage, your breasts, your stomach, slowly, as if he is drinking from your body, the source that keeps him alive. 

He takes his time, still hasn't touched you but you'd swear you've never felt more caressed than now, nurtured, sensed, accepted in your body's every disheveled and flawed manifestation.

You could swear you could moan from that alone.

When his hands approach your hips you want them so badly that you instinctively lean into them to meet his palms, the warmth of his skin welcoming you.

You cling to his broad shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours.

He lifts you up as if you weighed nothing and lays you on the kitchen countertop, next to the sink. 

Your legs hang over the edge as he commands, “open wide, baby,” and settles in between, still fully clothed. 

“Frankie, please.” 

“You know what I like?” he asks with a smirk, ”the way you light up as soon as I touch you. God, it drives me crazy the way you instantly become a needy little animal, you know that?" 

You feel your eyes heavy and your voice shaky as you repeat his question, “You know what I like? The way you know exactly what I need.”

He smiles, leaning down to your neck to bite the soft skin over your pulse point and soothing it right after with his warm tongue. 

He lowers himself onto you, leaving a trail of kisses on your beating chest, pausing on your tits and spreading his lips over your nipples, first one and then the other, caressing them with his tongue, swirling it around. You moan with each touch, tilting your head back as he sucks them harder, his beard pinching you gently, his warm lips enveloping them.

You pull his cap off and sink a hand into his dark curls. 

He knows you so well, it is as if he has memorized your every little reaction and in his mind has written himself a manual on how to make you completely lose control. 

He continues to work on your nipples, grazing them with his teeth, licking them up and down with his tongue, sucking them between his lips, hard and covering them with his saliva. His tongue goes around your areola, returning to your little pebble every time you pull his hair a little harder and mewl.

He suddenly leaves your tits and returns to your neck, you groan in disappointment but his tongue immediately soothes you trailing up to your jaw and licking over your lips, inviting them to open for him and dragging you in a sloppy, feral kiss that leaves you breathless.

His hips are rocking into you, brushing over your damp underwear while you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him against your core.

His eyes are dark with lust as he moves one of his hands over your soaked underwear, brushing your folds with his knuckles, “I’m going to make you scream my name so loudly, baby”

“That’s exactly what I want,” you prod him, biting down softly on his lower lip. “Do your magic, Morales.” 

You loosen the grip of your legs, gently pushing his shoulders to invite him to lower himself, and Frankie grumbles jokingly, "bossy". 

He kneels in front of you holding his hands down on your back, just above your butt and pushes you toward him, you falter for a moment balancing on the edge of the counter but his grip is strong and secure.

You run a hand through his curls, tugging slightly.

He licks a strip over your panties, taking the fabric between his teeth, without stopping to look at you. 

A fucking tease. 

He stills for a moment and then kisses your clit. 

Then he moves his flat tongue flat down, almost to your tight hole and then back up, again and again, lingering on your clit with quick flicks of his tongue.

The fabric of your panties is wet with his saliva as a new stream of pleasure floods you, soaking them even more.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you holler.

He looks at you mischievously. “Thinking about it… we should take some measures to make sure you stay quiet, honey, you know?” he nods to the half opened window right behind you. 

You glance back and then blurt out, “oh, whatever, let them hear us.”

Frankie chuckles at your impatience. “Do you really want to put on a show for the whole neighborhood?” 

“There are curtains, they can't see us,” you frown

“But do they need to hear us?” he says as he pulls off your panties, sliding them down your legs.

He sniffs them for a moment- “fucking sweet, darling” - while you wonder what he's going to do, then rolls them and stands back up, sneaking his hand behind your neck and looking at you authoritatively, his lips pursed in a smirk. 

He runs his thumb over your mouth, stops in the center and pushes gently, silently commanding you to open it. The moment your lips part he thrusts your panties into your mouth. “That's it, good girl” he coos.

It’s so wrong, keeping your panties in your mouth like that, your tongue numbed with the taste of it and your body tense under Frankie’s gaze. But also fucking right. 

He graciously holds his power over you, always considerate of your need while he plays with your mind in a delicious nasty way. 

He caresses your cheek, moving down to the column of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, “Don't try to take them out or you won't get what you want,” he gently orders.  “Can you behave for me?” 

You nod.

He gives you a smirk and gets back on his knees and admires your glistening pussy for a moment. “Always so fucking wet for me,” he whispers before sinking into you again, licking and sucking on your clit and down on your folds, his nose hitting your most sensitive part. 

When you’re basically dripping on your inner thighs, he slides two fingers inside you, so easily moving over the spot he knows makes you see double.

His fingers are inside you up to his knuckles when he curls them, pushing and grasping.

You are thrown into a frenzy almost immediately as he gently hits you with his fingertips again and again, sucking avidly on your clit as you’re stifling your moans by clenching your teeth on your panties.

He laps at your folds so thoroughly, then goes back on your bundle of nerves, sloppy wet noises fill the air mixing with your gasps as he scissors and pushes into you.

He hums against you, whines evenly, you watch him through your eyelashes as he palms himself from above his jeans, seeking some relief.

He doesn’t stop until he feels your legs shake and your stifled mewls trying desperately to get out of your throat. 

Your orgasm crushes over you like a wave, leaving you quivering and breathless.

He gets back up and removes the panties from your mouth, kissing you with his mouth still smeared with your essence. 

 “You’ve been so good, baby.”

You pull him by his shirt protesting, "You haven't got anything yet, though.”

“That’s not a problem, hun, we can eat something and then you’ll eat me. Dessert, remember?” 

You giggle “deal.” 

You steal another kiss from him before slipping your dress back on and setting the table. 

As you eat you notice the bag he left in a corner by the kitchen door.

“What is that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I almost forgot, it's a gift for you." 

You squint your eyes “For me? You didn't have to!”

Frankie smiles “I saw it in a store and thought of you. Open it.” 

You get up and go for the bag, not before giving him a kiss.

When you open the bag you find a dress. 

Very simple, black, not too low-cut, with a tulip skirt. 

As you're looking at it, leaning it over your body to see the length, Frankie suggests that you could wear it to his mother's. 

____________________________________________

“Are you ready, honey?” 

Frankie's voice is muffled by the bathroom door as you're finishing putting on your lipstick.

“Almost, you just need to help me with the zipper.”

Frankie opens the door and peeps into the bathroom.

He stops behind you, admiring you in the mirror as you stand there with your lips parted, leaning slightly over the sink, your legs slender from your heels, you wear the dress he bought you, unzipped at the back.

“Jesus, you’re a vision,” he breathes. “Maybe we should skip dinner at my mom’s.” 

He approaches you and settles his big hands firmly on your hips. 

“Come on, Frankie, be serious,” you giggle.

“I'm serious,” he replies in a rough, deep voice.

He leans down to leave a trail of kisses down the exposed skin on your back, his soft lips send shivers down your spine and you are almost on the verge of giving in. 

You set your lipstick down on the sink countertop and turn to look at him pouting

"You can't do this to me now, you know we can't skip it.” 

“Well, it might help you relax though,” he continues to flirt, his lips curved into a little smile.

You’d fall for it any other day but not now that you’re trying to figure out how to impress someone you don’t even know. 

Frankie told you something about his mom, how protective she is and overall pretty conservative, you’re the exact opposite. 

You don’t know why he stays so positive about the dinner, you’re pretty sure she will hate you.

One look from you is enough to let him know how nervous you are.

Frankie leaves a light kiss on your shoulders and says. "Okay, I'll behave, turn around." 

He pulls up his zipper looking at you in the mirror, “Anyway, I wasn’t lying, you look really beautiful.” 

You smile softly, feeling your heart fluttering.

general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @thundermartini , @harriedandharassed , @almostempty let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away.

Archive tag: @pedrostories💗

Thank you so much for reading!

[skymar13]

Opposites attract

Bakusquad x fem!reader who’s the exact opposite as them.

:fluff

Bakugo

Class sweetheart x class hot head

The whole class adored you, that was a fact. Not on some harem shit but they all knew you were the sweetest person on earth, a quiet girl who always kept a level head never tipping over the pot. While on the other hand your boyfriend was a boiling tea kettle that could never keep his mouth shut always yelling profanities to the others. But they both knew you brought out the best in each other, bakugo riled you up in battles pushing you to do your best and making you aware that it’s okay to be upset and selfish every once in a while. While you kept him in check calming him down at times and the only person who was able to get him to quiet down when he was going over board, as well as being a safe haven for him to spill out his feelings without shame. You were the one person he could never treat unfairly, he was nice to you always helping out with your gear or training always talking to you with respect and a sickeningly sweet tone. You had him whipped and he and everybody else knew that.

Kirishima

Kind hearted x tough exterior

You were practically a stranger in the class room. Everyone tried to get close to you but you never mixed well. The only one that forced his way into your life was your boyfriend. At first you pushed him away over and over, denying his requests and questions. But he never gave up on you. You didn’t want to go out? That’s okay he can go to your dorm. You hate him? That’s okay you adores you. You don’t want to let him see what’s bothering? It’s okay he will sit and wait till you eventually spill everything to him. And at some point it wore you down and you let him see what’s bothering was behind those walls you had set up and he loved every bit of it. He was encouraging and loud about your accomplishments always there for you when you fell. And like wise you showed him the darker parts of the world, you showed him who was and wasn’t trust worthy amongst his friends as well you cheered him on silently like his own personal quiet cheerleader. You had a weird dynamic but everyone could tell how happy you made each other….even if you wouldn’t crack even a smirk.

Kaminari

Class clown x shy nerd

Kaminari was definitely not the brightest of the bunch, not the sharpest tool in the shed, not the best grape on the vin- you get it. But when you offered to tutor him he swore his heart beat out of his chest. Unlike iida or momo you you were patient with him went at his speed and he actually began to learn a lot from you. He began seeing you every other day loving the extra attention he got from you and eventually he asked you out and the rest is history. When the class noticed that kaminari grades began to rise they wondered who had been the saint to resurrect his grades from their graves and they got their answer. You walked into class hand in hand while Kami carried you bags on his left shoulder. Their jaws dropped to the floor. You not only helped with his grades you helped him in other ways too. You were able to find a healthy way for him to short circuit and shorten the span of it you also got him into healthy habits (eating sleeping studying) and he couldn’t be happier. He brought you out of your shell introducing you to many of his friends inside/ outside of UA.

Sero

Stoner x red ribbon reader

He was the school dealer so everyone expected him to get with another pot head someone like Jirou or Mina but what they hadn’t expected was the love of his life to be someone who openly participated in red ribbon week. You were an avid hater for drugs and you made this aware to sero and the rest of your classmates. But you never asked him to stop for you just because you hated it doesn’t mean you were going to force that on the one person who truely makes you happy. He had tried to get you to do it on multiple occasions to which you declined and he never pushed it further. The longer your relationship the less he smoked much to your delight and eventually he quit on his own because he never wanted to smoke near you and you had always been near him. You were his high so why did he need drugs? He noticed how healthy you were for him, not even just because of the drugs but because you were an outlet for his to rid of stress and feel at peace while he mellowed you out. You were a stressed individual but perfected healthier alternatives but sero allowed you to be stressed without any reprimand and you were thankful it was an even balance between stress and calm.

Mina

Popular girl x shy girl

You were a quiet kid all your life. You sat in the back of every class had two close friends and always had your head phones in. When you got to UA it was the exact same as it had always been until Mina showed her bright smile and horns into your life. Yadayada you two were dating and everyone and I mean everyone took notice. The influx of attention was something you had to adjust to but after a while you were used to being swarmed by Mina’s friends while you sat next to her quietly scrolling on your phone or doing you homework with you headphones in. She’s always offer to send people away but you hadn’t minded it it felt nice to have people engaging in conversation even if you got overstimulated at times it was okay. Mina had never heard of the word chill before. She was a stressed out and far stretched teen who had major fomo when you two got together she immediately found her chill she now didn’t feel the need to be anywhere that you weren’t so most nights were quiet ones in your dorm watching movies or doing each others nails.

Jirou

Sarcastic queen x kind hearted reader

Sarcasm was a language Jirou spoke fluently. However for you? You could just never get it. Unfortunately for you it was your biggest downfall because you could never sense someone’s sharp tongue. Jirou at first was the one who dropped it in every sentence until she noticed you didn’t get it then suddenly she just didn’t have the heart to do it. She stuck by your side always pointing out who spoke sarcasmish and whose responses weren’t genuine at all. You thanked her every time and got slightly saddened because you could never get it. But she comforted you and even tried to get you in on the loop of the forbidden language. She took your kindness and started to speak to people without as much sarcasm which made her more ‘like able’ in the eyes of others.

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 6 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi part vii

part vi (holiday parties)

Everybody’s been talking about the company holiday party scheduled for Christmas night for a month and a half, and you assumed everybody would settle for that one instead of throwing parties of their own. But based on the number of party invitations that have been dropped on your desk, your coworkers are as over-the-top about holiday parties as they are about everything else. It seems like there’s a party or two every night, work nights included. You’ve gotten at least five invitations, and in your efforts to make friends, you’ve been going to all of them.

So far you’ve done a cookie party, a gingerbread house party, a holiday-themed DIY spa night with your coworkers from the advertising department, karaoke with the PR team, a White Elephant party that scraped up almost everybody and took almost four hours to get through, and one party that was just an eggnog-fueled walk through Yaoyorozu’s ritzy neighborhood, which you have to admit has the prettiest Christmas light displays you’ve ever seen. You can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re getting sort of partied out.

The next invitation arrives while you’re at your desk the day after Yaoyorozu’s party, still trying to shake off the eggnog, and it’s delivered by the last person you’d have expected to care about that kind of thing. “Toga’s having a party,” Shigaraki says without preamble. He drops the invitation down on your desk, next to the pen you got from your Secret Santa. “You’re invited.”

He looks really unhappy about it. It makes you nervous. “Did she tell you to invite me?”

“Where do you think I got this?” Shigaraki gestures at it with one hand, and you notice that his skin looks less irritated than it did the last time you saw him. He must be using the hand cream, and the feeling of accomplishment that settles around you is almost enough to cut the nerves of this conversation. “Can you go to the party or not?”

You study the invitation. “A pajama party?”

“She just means not work clothes,” Shigaraki says. He scratches lightly at his neck. “We just eat and hang out and watch Christmas movies. Nothing weird.”

“Other than you watching Christmas movies,” you say. He glances at you, then looks away. “I thought you hated this stuff.”

“There are drinks, too. That helps.”

You’re kind of maxed out on Christmas drinks. You glance at the invitation. It’s for tomorrow, which isn’t a work night, and you don’t have anything planned. Toga’s been nice to you. If it’s Toga’s party and she’s inviting her friends, Spinner and Twice will be there, and they’ve been nice to you, too. You might not know Dabi or Magne or Compress very well, but you think you can probably avoid bothering them if you’re careful. There’s not a reason to say no – except the reason that’s standing in front of you, waiting with increasing irritation for you to reply. “Well?”

“Do you want me to go?” you ask, and Shigaraki stares at you. “If you’re only inviting me because Toga’s making you –”

“That’s not what I said,” Shigaraki says. He looks even more annoyed than he did a second ago, but there’s color coming up in his face. You wonder if that’s what you looked like when you were singing a Christmas song to ward off the carolers. “Can you go or not?”

��Um –” If you say yes, he’ll stop staring at you like that. And you still need to make friends. “Yes. Tell Toga I’m looking forward to it.”

Shigaraki nods once and stalks off, probably headed straight back to the basement. You study Toga’s invitation a little more carefully. There’s a list of movies on it that looks pretty good, and it says you’re not supposed to bring anything except yourself, your pajamas, and an ugly sweater if you have one. It sounds like a quieter party than the ones you’ve been going to, and it’s not a work night tomorrow, so there’s no reason for you to feel anxious about it. Is there?

“Hey!” Ashido’s peering over the wall of her cubicle into yours. “Did I hear that right? Shigaraki left the dungeon just to ask you out?”

Your face goes up in flames. “He didn’t ask me out. He was just dropping off an invitation to Toga’s party. She must have asked him –”

“That’s not what he said,” Hakagure says, leaning out of her cubicle across the way to stare at you. “You assumed Toga asked him to ask you, but he didn’t agree.”

“And we know Toga usually hand-delivers her invitations,” Ashido continues, “because Uraraka got one. Right, Uraraka?”

“I went last year, too,” Uraraka says. “It’s different, but it’s okay. They’re all a lot different when they’re not at work.”

Uraraka’s going, too. Knowing that eases your mind a little bit. And knowing that they’re different than they are at work is a positive. You think. Given that ‘what Shigaraki’s like at work’ is a category broad enough to include just about every behavior somebody can exhibit without getting fired, you’ve really got no idea what he could possibly be like in his off hours. In twenty-four hours and change, you’re going to find out.

You try not to think about what Ashido and Hagakure said, but it lurks at the edges of your thoughts overnight and into the next day, and by the time you’re knocking on the door to Toga’s apartment, you can’t ignore it any longer. He didn’t say Toga told him to ask you. He also didn’t say he didn’t want you to go. In your observations of Shigaraki, you’ve never seen him be shy about saying what he doesn’t like.  If he didn’t want you to go, you’d have known about it. Which means he does want you to be here. Why does he want to see you outside of work? Is he really –

“You came!” The door opens in your face, startling you out of your thoughts, and Toga pulls you inside before you can get your bearings entirely. “Tomura-kun said he needed an invitation for you, but we didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. I’m so glad you’re here!”

“He went through with it? Damn.” Dabi appears around the corner. If you’d been trying to predict his outfit for a pajama party, you wouldn’t have picked an actual pajama set, which is what he’s wearing. “I hope you like lame-ass Christmas horror movies, because that’s what we’re watching first.”

“There are Christmas horror movies?”

“Oh yeah! Lots of them!” Twice also has a pajama set. His comes with a hat on it. “We have to watch at least one every year so Shigaraki won’t get up and leave when we try to watch Home Alone or Elf.”

“And this year we had to have two horror movies,” Magne adds. She’s in the kitchen, mixing drinks. “It’s the only way we can get him to sit through Love Actually.”

“How do you pick the movies?” you ask. Magne hands you a drink, then shoos you towards the living room, which is a sea of couches and beanbag chairs. “Does everybody pick?”

“We always do Nightmare Before Christmas, since we can all agree on that one,” Spinner says. He’s already sitting down, and his idea of pajamas looks a lot more like yours – sweatpants, sweater, both sort of old. “Then we put all the others on a corkboard and play darts to pick.”

He points over to one wall, and sure enough, you can see a corkboard covered in darts and tiny pieces of paper. “Anybody who’s invited can suggest one.”

“One of mine made it this year,” Uraraka says brightly. “Die Hard.”

“You could have added one, too, if somebody hadn’t waited so long to invite you –”

“Give it a rest,” Shigaraki says, and you jump. You almost didn’t notice him, settled in like he is at one corner of the couch with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up over his hair. “Take one of my picks. So you won’t have to watch a bunch of things you hate.”

“Oh, that’s okay –”

“No,” Shigaraki says. He sits up and his hood falls down. “Pick something.”

“Pick something,” Twice agrees, edging past you to plop down on the couch next to Shigaraki. “Save us from the gremlins. I can’t watch the microwave scene again.”

“No, we should keep the gremlins. I don’t want to watch that Krampus thing,” Toga complains. “It looks so gross and weird –”

“We only have one movie that’s off-limits,” Spinner says. “It’s –”

“The Grinch,” you say, and Spinner gives you a surprised look. “Let me think for a second.”

“Sit down while you’re thinking about it,” Magne advises, reaching over the back of the couch to shove Twice towards the middle and free up the space next to Shigaraki. Is that where you’re supposed to sit? “Go on.”

You sit down, careful not to spill your drink, and think through the list of Christmas movies you know. You don’t want to pick something they’ll hate – or something Shigaraki will hate, given that he’s the one who invited you – and the only thing you have to go on is that they all like Nightmare Before Christmas. Hasn’t Tim Burton done another Christmas movie? You take a sip of your drink, which is thankfully not eggnog, to jog your memory. “What about Edward Scissorhands?”

“Never seen that one,” Dabi muses. “Spinner. Get rid of the gremlins and add it to the lineup.”

You haven’t seen it in forever. Hopefully it’s not bad, and hopefully everybody drinks enough by then that they don’t care whether it’s good or not. As Spinner screws around with the TV and everyone else starts looking for spots to sit, you turn your attention to Shigaraki. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me pick one,” you say.

Shigaraki shrugs. The two of you are sitting close enough that his shoulder brushes against yours. “It’s not a big deal. I knew you wouldn’t pick the Grinch.”

“I know a Grinch-free zone when I’m in one,” you say, and Shigaraki’s scarred mouth pulls up slightly at one corner. You can’t imagine him smiling like that at work, and you don’t know how you feel about it. “Thanks for inviting me to this, too.”

“Toga didn’t make me,” Shigaraki says. “It was my idea. Just so you know.”

He was holding your gaze at first. When he says that, he looks away, and you don’t try to make him look back. You face front and wait for Toga to start the movie, and when Magne sits down on the couch, you scoot just a little closer to Shigaraki to make room. It reminds you of high school in some sense you can’t put your finger on, some way you’re not ready to look at too closely. But there are five movies in the queue for Toga’s holiday party. You’ve got a long time tonight to figure it out.

<- part v part vii ->

[13leaguestories]

2025 Forecast

Do you hear that along the wind? It's saying "you copied and pasted this from Patreon"

looks back at 2024 Yea, naw. I don't really have much to say about it besides it gave birth to some really good ideas that got me psyched about some stories. But mostly it just felt like a really long mile with covered holes that I kept falling into. If any of you watch Neebs Gaming on YouTube, I was Simon this year. If you know, you know.

Like one of the good things is I realized Superstition needed a rewrite that has me so excited, it also gave birth to All That Comes Before (which more on that below) and that my gosh. Like I don't think I can actually explain to you how well that has helped me understand Roe's character.

Sea of Stars came up and I love that story to death, sue me.

It was not the year for shorter stories and prompts though. Like my brain just pretty much died with anything on a smaller level and I hate that. I don't know why! That's the worse part. I don't know why. It also failed on the NSFW parts. That part needs to change pronto but writing them just became ... meh.

But I'll try to stay positive. So this forecast will be a mix of what to expect in January as well as what I hope to accomplish for the year.

Superstition

January: I'm nearly done with AtCB. There's one story left for me to write and that is sitting at 60% and I'll be working on today and tomorrow in hopes of finishing it.

So, I'll repeat this again on the itch.io page as well as maybe somewhere on Tumblr. This add-on will cost $3 and each edition will just add more backstory to what already exists. For example, one of the stories is about Roe's mother's funeral. These stories will also include variables that can be be moved over and will further shape Roe & Company personality. Another example of one of the variables introduced is $fear_romance. This variable gives Roe a clingy, jealous, fear of being cheat on, never having a relationship, or nothing. This will obviously work with the characters with Zillah liking clingy but not so much Sydero.

So, with all that said. IT IS NOT NECESSARY TO GET. If you 1. just don't want to buy it or 2. know that the device you use hates exporting/importing then don't get it. It's not needed and is more so something you got cos you just want to read it and "hey, look, you get to bring over some cool variables too!"

Alright, moving on.

Yearly: I really don't know what to expect for yearly besides maybe saying I'll get all of S1 rewritten, out and ready. And will be deep into working on S2 and S2's AtCB. I feel like that can easily be reached. But saying "oh yea, S3 will be finished" when I have the other stories to do as well, yea. Can't just spout that lie.

Throne of Ashes

January: So I said that I had some news on Nour. I won't get too deep into it as I think I've said a lot about why Nour is weird for me. Long story short: I wrote Nour with the same build as I did Ruben whereas every other story ended up changing to be something totally different. Nour didn't go through that and so their story always felt like it was over much faster and wasn't hitting right in the end. Well, guess what! I found out what to do. No, I don't have an ETA.

Yearly: Obviously wanting Nour to come out. I'm aiming for Q1 and if I dedicate the early months to them then that should be easy. After that, the next character will be Ozara. No. She will not be done in 2025. (I say that so maybe my brain proves me wrong, it won't).

Sea of Stars

Obviously won't be out this year but man do I really want to put a big dent in it. Like this story gets me so excited. Look, forgive me but this story gets me so pumped to do.

Riders of Abauruth

I want to do at least something with it here. Probably after I finish Nour's route, I'll slot RoA in for a bit of fun. I miss the dragons. I tried to do a bit of it in November but it was obviously going to take all of my attention and not the "spare a day" attention I was giving it because I have to iron out some plots, brainstorm, reread the old one, etc. But I'm hyped for this.

So, uh. Here's to 2025. A year that I'm not looking forward to at all if I must be honest.

[poppitron360]

“You wanna know the truth, Jason? You wanna know what I’m hiding?” Leo cried.

“Yes! Yes, I really do!” Jason replied, defiantly.

“Fine. Okay then.”

Leo took a deep breath.

“Tomorrow night, I will face Gaea. And I will die.”

The certainty of his voice was absolute. The look on his face clear. It was finalised. There was no way around it.

And that broke Jason’s heart.

He pleaded. It was useless, but he pleaded anyway. Leo knew what had to be done, and Jason did too. Still, he pleaded.

“Jason, it has to be this way. To Storm or Fire.”

“No.” Jason said, simply. His determination was futile, and he knew it. “Leo, I’m not letting you die for me!”

And Leo just shrugged and said, with a tone so causal and unbothered you’d think he was just stating the weather:

“People have died for less.”

Jason just crumpled to the ground. Leo’s calmness, his utter acceptance of what had to happen as fact- that was what cut so deep. It was like Leo didn’t value his life at all, that he’d throw it away so casually, when Jason would do anything to keep it. He needed that life so much. He treasured it, it meant everything to him, but Leo was prepared to give it up so easily. Couldn’t he see how important it was? How precious? Leo was acting like that life was just a piece of scrap metal- an old machine to be tossed. But Leo never tossed his machines, he always had faith in them, never gave up on them. Leo was treating his robots with more care and respect and worth than his own very life. Jason just couldn’t understand why Leo couldn’t see how much value it really had.

Leo crouched down next to Jason’s sobbing body.

“Hey… look on the bright side, okay? It could be a lot worse for me. I mean… growing up… I used to think I’d end up dead in a ditch, with nothing and no-one. Now… I’ll be surrounded by friends, I’ll be content knowing that I did it for them, knowing that I’d done something decent of once, accomplished so much, and saved so many lives. Can you just be happy for me?”

He wiped a tear off of Jason’s cheek with his grimy thumb, and gently lifted Jason’s chin so that he’d face him.

“Can we focus on the positives? Please?”

Jason saw it in Leo’s eyes. He was begging. He needed this.

“But… but Leo…“

“I can’t lose you Jason,” Leo said, “I can’t let it be you, I just can’t. And the quicker you can accept that, the quicker you can learn to be happy for me. Because I would be happy, knowing that you’re in this world, and you’re living on. That’s what matters to me. So I need you to do that. I need you to live, and be happy. Can you do that for me?”

Jason looked down, but Leo tilted his head back up again. His busy brown eyes scanned Jason’s face, searching… hoping…

“Please... Please, Jason… I need you to do this for me. I’m not asking for much. I would die content if I just know… can you be happy for me?”

“Leo… I can’t let you do this…” Jason muttered weakly. He knew he was fighting a useless battle, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. If he didn’t try everything to save his everything.

Leo rose to his feet, looking down at Jason. “Do you want me to die unhappy, Jason? Do you want be to be unfulfilled? I need you to promise me… that you can move on. Because I’m doing this. Either way, I’m doing this. You can’t do anything to stop me, so the best thing you can do is just accept right away. Tomorrow, I will face Gaea. And I will die. And if you can accept that, I will die happy. That’s the best thing you can do to help me.”

Jason couldn’t believe it. Leo was asking Jason to be happy with his plan to end his own life. How could he? How could Jason possibly live without Leo?

“How can you ask such a thing?” Jason roared, rising to face Leo, “How can you seriously ask me to let you do that? How can you expect me to accept that my best friend is giving up his life for- for-“

“You would do the same for me,” Leo stated, plainly, “You would do it in a heartbeat. And you would’t let me stop you.”

“Exactly!” Jason yelled, “Let it be me, Leo. I can’t- I can’t lose you!”

“Please, Jason, don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I c-can’t, Leo. I-I c-can’t let you… I ca-can’t lose you…” He placed a hand over Leo’s heart, and felt the pulse throb beneath his skin. He could not allow that heart to stop beating, “It has to be me. You said it yourself- to storm or f-fire. I’ll do it.”

Leo shook his head, and gave a slight chuckle in disbelief, “You have so much to live for, Jason. You have Piper to take care of- not that she needs it, but still. You gotta build all those temples in New Rome. You gotta show Frank the ropes of Praetorship, make sure your legion is being looked after. You’ve got duties and responsibilities. People need you, Jason. You’re much too valuable to go.”

“You’re saying that like you’re not!” Jason cried.

“Hephaestus cabin will get a new counsellor. My machines will be re-used. And I’ve programmed Festus to go rescue Calypso once… once it happens. My family… my blood relatives… they won’t care. Life moves on, and I won’t be needed anymore.”

“But what about me?” Jason whimpered, his voice the same pitch and register of a crying infant, “I need you, Leo. I need you. You… you can’t go.”

"I have to,” Leo said, his voice gentle, but firm.

Jason knew it was hopeless. He knew that Leo was right, that his mind was set, and there was no changing it. Jason wanted Leo to be alive, but what he wanted more than anything was for Leo to be happy. And if accepting his death was what he had to do… Jason didn’t like it. He wanted to protest, to shout, to scream, to beg on his knees. It wouldn’t have been very Praetor-like of him; Jason no longer cared. The only thing that mattered was Leo. But he knew. With a sinking heart, he knew that he would only be causing Leo more pain if he stopped him from doing what he needed to do.

He searched Leo’s eyes. He loved those eyes, so deep and bright and busy- chocolate-brown, rich and warm. He’d always tried to count the emotions in them as they flashed past like speeding cars. He watched now, and counted desperation, panic, melancholy, concern, peace, worry, fear. He could see that lying underneath it all. Leo was terrified. Terrified that he’d leave this world, knowing that Jason would be unhappy. Terrified that he was doing the wrong thing. Terrified that Jason might refuse his request.

Oh Leo… I could never refuse anything to you.

It killed Jason to do so, but he nodded. “Okay.”

He held Leo tightly in his arms, “I don’t want to… but… okay. If it’s wh-what you have to d-do, then… okay.”

“Oh, Jason…” Leo sighed, placing a hand on Jason’s tear-stained cheek, “Nothing lasts forever. My dad told me that once. Nothing lasts forever-

“Not even the best machines,” Jason recited. He broke down with fresh tears, his head cupped in Leo’s hands. “L-let me stay with you, at least… Please, Leo,” he begged, “Tonight- let me stay with you. I-I don’t want you to be alone.”

They curled up on the cool metal floor of the engine room. Jason held Leo, and stared into his eyes. He scanned his face, as if trying to commit it to memory.

“L-Leo…” Jason tried to search for the words to express how much the precious life he was holding in his arms meant to him. He wanted to celebrate the wonderful thing, in all its brilliance and accomplishment. In sixteen years, Leo had done more, suffered more, overcome more, and lived more than most people do in six lifetimes. What Leo saw as broken, and disposable, Jason saw as beautiful. Leo had taken the crappy cards he’d been dealt in life, and he’d made them into a weird and wonderfully messy sculpture. Jason held it, tight, and treasured it with all his heart.

“I-I…” was all he could manage.

“I know, Jason.” Leo said in response. And Jason could tell that he really did.

“What are you gonna do… when you get to Elysium?” Jason asked, trying to keep what little conversation he could make going. Trying to hear Leo’s voice, so that he could remember it. Keep it. Memorise the weird vocal inflections, the pace of the syllables, the way he’d dip in and out of different accents from places he’d been over the years, the way his hispanic accent would seep through the cracks, enriching his words with warm tones. The way he’d slip into a southern drool when he was relaxed. Jason wanted to take it and frame it, so he’d never forget it.

“I’ll see Mom again,” Leo said, his voice small, “I’ll tell her everything about you guys. About our adventures. I’ll tell her I’m sorry-“

“Leo-“

“I know.” Leo said, “I’ll still tell her. If she’s there, I’ll tell her.”

Jason looked at Leo sadly. Even after all these years, Leo still thought mother’s death was his fault. Jason knew that the remorse and regret drove him to feel this worthlessness. He worried that part of the reason Leo was sacrificing himself was to punish himself for what happened.

“I’ll finally avenge her. Tomorrow, I mean.”

It sounded like he was talking about Gaea. Jason hoped that was all he meant.

“But I might finally see her, talk to her. I could get closure for what happened. I can’t wait, Jason! I could see my mom again!” He looked up at Jason, and Jason saw giddiness poke through in the fast flash of emotions.

He could tell Leo had sensed that Jason needed him to keep talking. “And when I get to Elysium… if I get to Elysium…” Leo sighed, “I’ll wait. For you. And the others. Take your time, though. No rush. I’ll be there… I’ll wait for you.

“Oh, Leo…”

“It’s okay, Jason. Really. I’ll wait. And, in the meantime… I’ll enjoy paradise. You don’t have to worry about me. Boy, I’m exited now.”

They were silent for a while. Jason listening to the rhythmic beat of the engine room, and the drum of Leo’s heartbeat. He tried to keep his breathing steady.

“… Jason?” Leo whispered into the throbbing room.

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

Jason didn’t answer.

“Try to be happy, Jason. Please? Please don’t be sad, at least.”

“Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?”

Leo closed his eyes, and made a face like he was fighting back tears. He lay there, slowing his breathing for a few seconds. Then he spoke. “Goodbyes are hard. They always are. But it’s not forever. It’s never forever. I’ll wait for you,” He looked up into his eyes, “Everything goes eventually, Jason. But… I’d rather go out like this, knowing that I did it for my friends, than go out any other way. And at least I’ll be going out in style. This… this is what I want. And it’ll be hard. I’m not pretending it’s easy. But I couldn’t ask for it to be more perfect. So… yeah. I’m happy. I am.”

Jason took a heavy breath, “Then, yeah… I’m happy, too.”

Leo smiled, “Now, get some sleep, Sparky. Big day tomorrow.”

——————————————————

Selecting what bits of canon I want like it’s a character-creation menu.

Leo tells Jason about his plan. There is no physician’s cure, or at least there’s little chance it might work. Or maybe there is, but it’s irrelevant- Leo is still making that choice to die. Also Valgrace.

@lavenderfairiez @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @imnoturfriend-im-a-swiftie13 @euryvices @ottpopfic

[dr-demi-bee]

Should've Noticed You Sooner

It's here! 🎉After some frantic typing and generous sillies, @lastlight-inn's reward for the 200 followers give-away is finished! She requested a literary reward, and dictated my next 8k - choosing to request a brand new oneshot. And I went substantially overboard!

I'm pleased to present: Should've Noticed You Sooner

A Miri x Gale Modern AU College Roommates Romance Friends -> Lovers ~ Modern AU ~ Primalweave ~ Self-indulgent af

Pairing: Gale x f!Tav - NSFW Word Count: 18k ------------------------------------------------------------------------------Summary:

Gale and Miri, international students in America, moved in together for their last year after forging a strong friendship early in their college careers. They've been close for years now, and despite a lot of banter and some generous flirting, they've never really tried to be anything more. Despite both being wildly interested in one another.

One late evening (well, morning, really) the tension finally simmers to a boiling point. ----------------------------Read on A03-----------------------------------

Miri closes her laptop with a heavy sigh. That was enough staring at her notes for one day. She wasn’t going to accomplish anything more at this point. Leaning back in her desk chair, she rakes clawed fingers through her long red hair.

She glances at the clock on her nightstand - 2:30. It would be 8:30 at home - the farm work would already be in motion, her siblings would be sitting down for breakfast. Even after more than two years in the US, Miri’s body still wanted to follow that same routine. Or maybe it was all the night shifts catching up to her.

Either way she should be asleep and cashing in on the fact that it’s a Friday night and she’s off tomorrow. But instead she’d buried herself in biochemistry notes for entirely too long. Miri scrubs a hand over her face as she stands from her desk. She stretches slightly, popping her back with a groan.

With a sigh, she trudges from her room and towards the kitchen. Nights like these she was exceptionally grateful she didn’t have to live in the on-campus international housing. Having her own space - albeit shared with her roommate, Gale- made being something of an irregular sleeper much more tolerable.

It made a handful of other things more difficult... Like staying focused when they were both in the same room.

Gale Dekarios was unreasonably handsome - and it seemed like every year he only became more so.

Miri and Gale had met during international student orientation a few years ago - her from Germany and him from England- and formed a fast friendship sharing classes. It was an easy decision to share rent on an apartment close to campus (that accepted international visas). They had loaded the apartment with thrifted and gifted furniture, and given their similar preferences around cooking and cleaning, generally got along really well as roommates.

This was their third semester living together. Gale had left briefly over the summer to visit his mother, and it had been a bit unsettling to not have him around, if she were honest. The two of them had developed a lot of pleasant routines. Breakfast and coffee before classes or work most days. They took turns making dinner (with Gale insisting on taking more turns, but Miri wasn’t going to argue when he was so good at it.) And most weekends they would do something together or with their other friends.

What she hadn’t expected when they moved in together was how often Gale was up in the middle of the night — either reading or working on some assignment or other. This semester they were both applying to grad school and Gale was already a bit...frantic. Despite more or less having his choice of programs

When Miri flips the switch for the kitchen (which, theoretically was unnecessary given her darkvision) there’s a surprised squawk from where Gale was apparently sitting in the living room. In the dark. Staring at his laptop. Again.

He rubs his sore eyes and turns to look at her, a bit sheepish. She stares back in surprise.

"I haven't kept you up, have I?" Gale asked.

"No," Miri returns with a soft smile and a huffed laugh, "Sorry, I didn't realize you were still out here."

"Ah, it's alright," Gale shook his head. He let out a weary yawn, the bags under his eyes a sign of lack of sleep. "I shouldn’t be - but I had to get this essay out while I had the inspiration."

Gale closes his laptop, stretching his arms and his back. Then rubbing the back of his neck as he sits up straight - clearly stiff from hunching over his computer too long.

"And why are you awake?" He watches her with a curiously. "Unless you're trying to pull an all-nighter like me, you should really be sleeping."

"Just restless," Miri replies as she makes her way into the small kitchen.

"Restless?" Gale's eyebrows raised, but he didn't press further.

Miri could be exceptionally hard to read. Coming into the kitchen well past midnight could mean she’s in a mood or she’s hungry or genuinely just can’t sleep. He knew better than to prod her to say more - he’s just as likely to get a growl in response as a conversation.

And it’s hard to guess which from her expression. Miri’s piercing green eyes paired with the German stare had a way of arresting him. It felt like she could see through to his very soul. But she was also witty and playful in unexpected ways. Not to mention absurdly beautiful.

So if Miri didn't want to talk about it, Gale wouldn't pry.

"Can't get my brain to turn off," Miri replies after a yawn. She covers her mouth with the back of her hand as she does it and Gale has to look pointedly away. The sight of her sharp teeth shouldn’t intrigue him as much as it does. But it’s rare and novel and something about it is a little too exciting.

"Maybe some tea will help ease you," Gale says, rising to his feet to join her in the kitchen. He’s the resident tea-steeper - a self-professed expert. He stretches his arms overhead, revealing the bare skin of his stomach where his top rides up. "Chamomile, perhaps?"

She gives a non-committal hum. Miri glances a bit surreptitiously at him as he stretches before opening the fridge. She’s not especially subtle with those bright eyes though, and Gale notices. He can’t but feel a little pleased at the way her cheeks flush slightly. He tries to act casual, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway, but her attention definitely has a way of stroking his ego.

"Sounds like you have a lot on your mind," Gale says as he watches her rummage around the fridge.

Miri huffs a laugh, stooping to reach for one of her sparkling juices. Gale leans forward to see what she’s doing. And partly to avoid looking at her rear in those shorts. His eyebrows went up when he saw what was in her hand.

"Sparkling juice? At this time of night? Seems a little..." Gale pauses as he tries to think of the right word. "Unhealthy."

"It's juice, Gale." She gives him a skeptical brow raise. "Made of fruit."

"Sure, but it's still high in sugar, even if it is just fruit." He shrugged, his tone a tad judgmental. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s made a less than wise choice about food or drink. Gale personally found the American sweetness of things a bit grating, but Miri seemed to have quite the sweet tooth.

Miri looks at the can in her hand, turning to read the label. "That's not that much sugar," she grouses.

Gale pushed off the doorframe and walked to her side, curious and pre-emptively a bit disapproving. He peers down at her, crossing his arms and raising a brow as she shuts the fridge with her hip.

There’s a sizable height difference between them, but Gale always does his best not to loom over her. Except when she needs someone to reassess her choices.

Gale rolls his eyes and takes the can from her to read the label for himself.

"It probably tastes like the equivalent of a lollipop—" A pause. A glance at the nutritional information. "Oh."

Gale closes his mouth, a little sheepish as he puts the can back into her hand.

“I stand corrected."

"See?" Miri returns, "Juice."

"Fine, you win," Gale admits, though he does roll his eyes again. "Now why are you really drinking this? Unless you have a craving for some orange-flavored bubbles at..." he trails off to glance at the clock on the microwave. "...Nearly 3 am?”

Miri cracks open the can and glances at the clock before giving a slight shrug. "Sounded good."

"You don't seem like the type to be up in the middle of the night, let alone drinking orange juice at 3am." Gale chuckles as he leans against the counter beside her.

He gives her another look - one she’s all too familiar with at this point. Knowingly skeptical. Miri rolls her eyes at his pointed look to the lean muscles of her frame.

"And yet," Miri returns with a playful grin.

"Quite the conundrum," Gale teases back, returning a grin of his own.

Gale has a hard time not staring as she moves idly from the ball of one foot to the other. Her hair's messy and loose, out of it's usual style and braids, and she's wearing an oversized shirt and small pair of shorts for bed. He can’t stop his eyes from glancing at her legs as she moves, watching the muscles of her thighs flex.

“Did you go to the gym this morning?” The question blurts out of him before he can think it through. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to think anything of it as she replies casually.

“Yeah. It was swarming with first years, though... Fooling themselves into thinking they’ll stick to a routine if they start now.”

Gale chuckles at that. The cycle at the gym on campus was like clockwork. The beginning of every semester always had an increase in activity, and by the time the semester ended, there would hardly be anyone going not on a sports team. Save for Miri and her unwavering routine. How anyone could run and lift weights so often was a mystery. He certainly had his own routine, but it paled in comparison to hers. Maybe it was a lythari thing. Or a German thing. Hard to tell.

"Now that I think about it,” Gale muses, his tone a bit teasing, “You look like you could probably deadlift me.”

Despite the humor in his tone, Miri glances at him contemplatively. Oh gods she’s taking it seriously.

"How much do you weigh?"

Gale tilted his head back slightly, a smirk playing at his lips. He has to guess from what he remembers from last he weighed himself at the gym.

"Oh, almost 13 stone. So about... 82 kilos?" He answers, “Plus or minus one or two.”

"Then yes, I can."

Gale's smirk widens at her confidence. But it falters when she seems entirely serious. He pushes off the counter, straightening as he gives her a skeptical brow raise.

"Forgive me if I find that a bit hard to believe," he replies incredulously. "I don't think you could just pick me up like that."

"Picking you up is much easier than deadlifting."

Miri's lips split with a grin and she sets her juice down on the counter. The smirk fades from Gale's lips to be replaced with a slight look of wary surprise. When she doesn’t back down at all from her rather smug expression, Gale huffs a short laugh.

"Well then. By all means," He gestures towards himself with his hands. "Prove it."

"Alright," she returns playfully. As usual, he’s underestimating her. She’d hate thought after moving all that furniture in here he would’ve known by now she’s far from weak. (Though a part of her is convinced Gale used magic to lift his sides).

Miri moves beside him, slowly, allowing him time to reconsider - and when he doesn’t, she wraps her arms around his waist. Then she squeezes and pushes up with her legs, easily hefting him off his feet.

Gale let out a surprised laugh, his eyes wide with shock and his hands shooting up to grip her shoulders as his feet leave the floor. On instinct, he wraps his legs around her torso in a bid to avoid falling. Miri bursts out laughing as he clings on.

"I didn't think you'd hold on like a koala!"

Miri grins and Gale's face flushes a little red. When he glances down at her the position - and the feel of her arms snugly around him- only makes the redness grow worse.

"Of course I'm going to hold on," He retorts, "I don't want to fall. I like my spine not shattered..."

"What, you think I'll drop you?"

"Well I sure as hells am not going to find out," Gale grumbles, though it lacks any bite.

He tightens his legs slightly when she shifts, his hands clutching onto her. Miri watches his expression with a smug smile that broadens into a full grin. At this point he's clinging tight enough she hardly has to work to support his weight.

"Comfortable?"

Gale shoots her a glare as her smug smile grew. He knows she’ll never let this go. Any witty retort dies in his throat at how easily Miri can hold him up. Briefly, the thought flashes through him that he likes her holding him like this. And the red flush of his cheeks spreads up to his ears.

"Shut up..." He mumbles, avoiding her gaze.

"You realize you can just... put your legs down, right? I'm much shorter than you."

Gale glances down, realizing just how easy it would be for him to put his feet back on the ground, but he makes no attempt to do so.

"I don't...uh..." He tries to think of a good reason, but there really wasn't one. Only the fact that simply didn't want to let go yet. Sheepishly, he mumbles "...I like it up here.”

Miri huffs a cheerful laugh, grinning wide enough to show those lupine teeth. "I didn't peg you for the snuggly type."

Gale looks down at her his eyes narrowing playfully and his cheeks red. It's not as though Miri's made an effort to put him down or force him off either. Maybe she’s enjoying this a bit too?

Gale decides to push his luck a bit.

"Oh come on, it's not every day a pretty girl picks you up like you weigh no more than a box of feathers. Can you blame me for wanting to savor the moment?"

"Well, you're not the first to challenge me to lift them," she muses, with a smirk, "But you are the first to cling on like this."

Gale chuckles, still clinging to her letting a smug smile of his own grace his lips.

"Of course no one else has clung on like this," he answers as he rested his chin on her shoulder. He lets his voice drop a bit lower as he adds, "I'm also guessing none of them were as handsome as me."

"Mm. None come to mind," she returns playfully, turning her face to give him a coy smile, "A pretty lady or two, but no dashing gents like you."

"Good," Gale mumbles against her shoulder.

Something about knowing few have ever held her like this - that she thinks him dashing has his heart thumping. He smirks, and his arms wrapping around her shoulders a bit tighter. Emboldened a little further, his fingers cautiously trace the muscles of her shoulders. Almost reverently feeling the strength of her hidden beneath the baggy fabric of her well-worn shirt.

"If I ever do get down,” he murmurs a bit cheekily, “I expect a round of applause for being the only guy with the courage be carried by the muscle lady."

"'The muscle lady'?" Miri repeats a bit incredulously. She barks a laugh.

Gale chuckles along, a cheeky smile on his lips. He lets his fingers continue to trace the muscles in her shoulders, feeling the hard strength they held. Miri tries not to let out a sigh at the feel of it - surprisingly tender and affectionate. Something she’s not had in a long time.

"Well, forgive me, but you are pretty strong," Gale returns, giving her bicep a little squeeze. "And I'm not exactly light, so the fact you hauled me up like I weighed nothing... Pretty impressive, Miss Muscle Lady."

"Pfft. You're not heavy." Miri laughs heartily again, and the sound makes his stomach tighten.

"Hey, I'm not light either," Gale retorts, resting his chin on her shoulder again. He’s growing rather greedy to feel her warm touch. They’ve hugged plenty of times, sat close together before. Nothing quite like this.

He can’t help but notice that if he shifts his weight at all, Miri doesn’t seem phased by it. Strong as an ox...

"I feel like you're underappreciating my weight a little," he continues to tease, still clinging to the contact but trying to diffuse his nerves with humor, "I think I should be getting a bit more credit than just ‘not heavy’."

"You're lighter than I squat." Miri can’t help but tease him back, amused that his weight of all things could be a point of pride like this.

Gale huffs a short breath - momentarily silenced. His eyes widened and his brows furrow as his brain tries to work that out.

"Excuse me? You squat with my weight?"

"More than." She shifts so they're further away from the counter. "Watch-"

Gale's hands and legs tighten cautiously as she moves, his face going white with a mixture of shock and nerves.

"Y-you're not going to... drop me, right?" His voice fills with worry as she moves them towards the middle of the kitchen and away from the support of the counter.

"Hah! No."

Miri’s hands shift to grip him by his thighs, strengthening her hold. Gale only just manages to clamp down a rather undignified noise. The lythari takes a steadying breath and shifts her legs into proper position, then dips low and lifts them back up again.

Gale is almost completely speechless as she does a squat. With him clinging to her. Well. He’s certainly never had anyone do that to him before. His grip around her tightens from both concern and astonishment.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "How much weight can you squat?"

"210."

Gale's jaw drops. Miri appropriately returns the look with a smug grin.

"You can squat two hundred and ten pounds?"

Where the hells does she hide all that strength? She’s barely over five feet tall. He couldn't even begin to imagine...well, no, now he’s definitely imaging it. A bit too vividly. She could absolutely just heft him up and press him against the wall...

Miri laughs a bit smugly. It’s not often she could stun or surprise the magnificent Wizard of Waterdeep. She can’t help but picture how she could leverage her strength to her advantage. Maybe pin him underneath her and-

No, no, no, don’t go there.

"Yeah!" She glances at him with a surreptitious grin. "I should just haul you around the flat, then I wouldn't have to go to the gym."

A small part of Gale's mind wouldn't hate that. To be carried around and lifted by a gorgeous, strong woman? That's almost a dream come true. Especially if it were Miri. He swallows hard as he quickly pushes that thought out of his head.

"That'd be a bit extreme," he replies, trying his best to sound casual as he looks back at her.

"Mm. I guess." Miri looks thoughtful. IT would be nice to not have to go to the on campus gym... "I should get a pull up bar..."

"You could, or maybe just pick me up for your training instead." The offer slips out before he could stop himself, his mouth moving before his brain could register what was happening. Realizing what he'd said, Gale flushes a little pink again, his head bowing to rest his forehead against her shoulder and hide his face.

"You're a bit smart for a dumbbell," Miri teases back, unable to suppress a soft laugh at his reaction. Gale lets out a longsuffering sigh, burying his head further against her shoulder.

"At least make me your kettlebell," He mumbles, though there's an amused tone in his voice.

"How would that work?" Miri returns with a grin. "You're way too big."

"You could hold me by my ankles and swing me around," Gale suggests sarcastically. He tamps down the rather unhelpful thoughts his brain supplies after that. He smirks and suggests something else. "Or I could sit on your back and hold a weight while you do pushups."

Miri laughs heartily, her head tipped back. Gale smiles at the sound of her laughter, amused at his own stupid suggestions and the fact they made her laugh so much. It was often a goal of his to get her to break that stoic front and bring out the goofy streak beneath.

"Or maybe-" he pauses with another idea, a cheeky smile growing on his lips as he moves to wrap his arms more loosely around her neck once more and leaning back slightly "-you could do pull ups with me hanging on like this."

"Not sure they sell pull up bars for at home that could hold both our weight," Miri returns with a smirk, "At least, not that wouldn't violate the lease."

"Damn lease regulations," He returns with a chuckle and a commiserating grin. "They ruin everything."

"I know," she huffs, "The absolute tyranny."

"Utter tyranny," He agrees, shifting slightly as he tried to get more comfortable in his koala position. "Damn landlords have no compassion for those who wish to train their strength by pulling each other up."

Miri grunts slightly as he shifts his weight. She quirks a brow at him. Gale smirks as he adjusts himself, tightening his legs around her waist. She has to ignore the way that damned smirk never fails to make her chest warm.

"Staying are you?"

"What can I say? It's quite comfortable up here," Gale teases, clasping his hands behind her neck. With her unbothered reaction to all of it thus far, he grows increasingly bold. His fingers play idly with the soft strands of her long hair, twirling them between his fingers.

"Needy," Miri returns with a soft smile and playfully disapproving brows. The smile turns a bit mischievous as she continues, "Then at least pull your own weight."

Using her grip beneath his thighs, she pulls him closer so his weight is balanced more over her hips. Caught off guard, Gale makes a high sound of surprise. His legs reflexively lock behind her back and his arms tighten around her neck and shoulders.

With the adjustment she can have a hand free to grab her juice and take a swig.

"H-hey!" Gale protests. His counter point dies on his tongue when he realizes this new position was more comfortable for both of them. Although with the way his groin now pressed against her lower stomach... "You did that on purpose."

"Yeah?" Miri grins and quirks a brow up at him. Gale huffs, a hint of a pout on his lips. How cute... Miri can’t pass up an opportunity like this. To finally have Gale close. Even if it’s a bit awkward. She’s wanted to touch and feel his body for...well, entirely too long.

"Don't gimme that look," Gale grumbles, resting his head against her shoulder again. He’s silent for a moment, his hands shifting to trace idle patterns against the strong muscles of her back. Finally he murmurs softly in her ear - his tone caught somewhere between embarrassment and desire, "So...how long can you carry me for?"

Hearing that tone from Gale just makes her want to press her luck a little further.

"Oh, I dunno," Miri replies sounding playfully thoughtful, "Just standing here, probably a while."

"Oh really?" Gale says, lifting his head to give her a disbelieving look. A slow smirk returns to his lips, before he asks, “How long exactly is a while?"

He quirks a brow in challenge before shifting his upper body, pushing slightly away from her shoulders so some of his weight hangs away from her. Gale’s still holding tight with his legs, so it’s only a small fraction he’s moved - but it’s enough she has to adjust. Miri leans back slightly to counterbalance, tightening her core to hold steady.

“Hard to say. It's not exactly in my usual routine," she quips back with a gsrin.

Gale lets out a chuckle, tightening his grip around her shoulders with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Not? Maybe I should be added to your routine then," he teases.

"I'll be sure to pencil in 'Gale carries' for leg-day."

"Hey! That sounds like I’m the one doing the carrying," he quips back, shifting his weight again to hand even further away. Miri grunts again as he makes it more difficult. "Seems to me like it's more like 'Miri carries Gale'."

"Oh, forgive me, how unclear of me. I'll amend the record," she retorts, playing up her accent. Miri pretends to erase and write with one hand. Gale laughs as she 'writes down' the correction, his smirk growing even as his legs tighten around her waist at the feel of her hand leaving his thigh.

"And here I thought I was the smartass in this house," he teases, keeping up his playful tone while shifting once more in an attempt to push her limits. How long could she really hold him for? How long would she hold him...?

"I thought you didn't want me to drop you?" Miri grits with a grin.

Gale chuckles as he continues to press his luck and push her tolerance. The lilt of his lips is decidedly mischievous.

"What's the matter, worried I'll wear you out?"

Miri snorts. "Oh, excuse me. I didn't know I'd be getting an extra set in at 2:30 in the morning."

"Oh, I'm pretty light for someone your size," Gale teases back with a grin, "Shouldn't be too much of a strain for how strong you are."

"'My size' he says." Miri huffs a laugh, though it’s starting to sound a bit strained.

"I'm not wrong though," he replies, grinning as he continues to shift against her. Doing his best to feel the strength in her body for as long as she’ll let him. "You're only a few inches shorter than me, but you've absolutely got me beat in the muscle department."

"A few? Like 10."

Gale's grin widens.

"I stand corrected then," he replies cheekily, "You're a very short, very strong muscle lady."

Miri’s retort is cut short when Gale deliberately presses his hips against her - absolutely pressing his luck as far as it could go. This can either go very right, or they could pretend it never happened. They’ve flirted plenty before, right?

Miri arches a brow at him, noting his very intentional movement - and the very obvious way it presses his groin against her lower stomach. There’s no way that was an accident. She can feel her cheeks heating. And other things. Gale smirks back at her catching onto his not-so-subtle gesture.

"What can I say?” Gale murmurs with an air of smugness in the lilt of his lips. Despite his hard to suppress desire surging to the forefront in his probably too-tired mind, he can’t quite avoid the urge to mask it with humor. To hide in this usual dance of theirs. “I have a gorgeous, incredibly strong woman holding me up, it's kind of hard not to want to take advantage of the moment."

"Kind of hard, is it?"

Miri fingers grasp a bit more tightly to the meat of his thighs, sharp nails pressing gently into his skin through his shorts. Maybe he’s just joking. Maybe he’s teasing her. But that is not nothing...and neither is the flush of his cheeks. Bright green eyes roam his face curiously, searching.

Gale chuckles at her equally playful response - that she so quickly latched onto his little innuendo. The feel of her hands against him is nothing short of electric, and he’ll use any excuse to keep this going.

"You have a dirty mind," he teases, shifting once more. This time he presses hips pushed against her a little more firmly.

"Yes, I'm sure the fault lies entirely with me," Miri returns sarcastically. She pulls him closer - just a fraction.

"Of course it does," he agrees with an amused grin. "I don't know what you're talking about, I've done nothing wrong here."

Gale shifts once more - adjusting to how she pulls him against her. Decidedly a bit more than half hard now, his breath catches a little as he presses against her stomach a bit more. She feels so warm through that ratty old shirt. The plane of her stomach so firm.

"Mhmm." Miri arches her brow at him again. Two can play this game you absolute tease.

She grasps him more firmly by the thighs and bends forward intentionally, lowering his upper body towards the ground. Gale's smirked fades and his eyes widen at the sudden shift to almost parallel to the ground. He instinctively tightens his arms around her neck to keep himself from dangling, his thighs wrapping around her more firmly.

"F-fucking hells," he breathes.

"Something wrong?" Miri replies with a grin. She shakes slightly with the effort, but manages to hold him steady. Not like he has very far to fall if she did accidentally lose her grip.

Gale's heart hammers in his chest as he tries to remain as calm and collected as possible at the sudden and unexpected angle. Not to mention the way this puts her face rather close to his chest and her chest... He swallows, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his pants.

"Nothing's wrong," he says as casually as he can, his voice faltering slightly.

"Good," Miri says with a smirk.

Tightening her core to keep them steady, she slowly bends further, until Gale's shoulders finally make gentle contact with the floor. He lets out a small sound of surprise as the back of his shoulders finally touch the tile, his legs and upper body nearly vertical. If she weren’t straining Miri would be tempted to laugh at the small jolt of surprise that runs through him.

Gale slowly lowers his head to the floor, his hair a mess of tresses splaying out beneath him and he looks up at her wide-eyed and blushing. It’s rather adorable.

Being held almost upside-down the blood rushes to his face. Miri’s smirk widens into a full grin. Now he’s not just lightheaded from the angle, but also the way she looks at him. It’s almost predatory.

"F-fuck..." he whispers.

She huffs from the exertion. But with his shoulders finally on the ground, some of his weight is taken off her frame. It’s something of a relief to have some of his weight transferred off her waist. She lowers him a bit more so his back is on the ground. She's surprised when he keeps clinging to her.

"I've put you down," she pants, "You can let go."

A part of him wants to - to release his limbs from where they were tightly wrapped around her but...he was enjoying this too much. With an amused but slightly flustered expression, he tightens his legs around her instead.

"Why would I let go when I'm having so much fun?"

"I think I'm done carrying you, koala," Miri returns with a soft huff. His limbs around her keep her stuck in place.

"Oh, come on," Gale replies, a pout in his voice. "Just a few minutes longer? I'm not that heavy."

Miri barks a laugh. He tightens his grip, refusing to let her get away now that they’re in this new position. She has to plant her hands on the floor beside his shoulders to support herself with the way he still hangs on. And she vehemently ignores the little voice in her head pleading for her to just push him the rest of the way to the floor and climb on top. The singing tension in her back is enough to remind her not to.

"Gods, you're as bad as my nieces and nephews," she huffs, then playfully imitates a child's voice, "Five more minutes, Aunt Miri."

It earns her a hearty chuckle from the man-child over staying his welcome in her arms. She can’t tell if the reddening of his cheeks is from the blood flow or from the way he keeps pressing his hips upward.

"Your nieces and nephews have good taste," he quips, "Being carried like a baby in your very strong, very capable arms isn't a bad experience."

"Not quite how I'd hold a baby," she muses breathlessly, "But sure."

"Oh? How would you hold a baby then?" Gale’s eyes narrow playfully as he arches a brow. He shifts his legs middle again, trying to get a little more comfortable. But his efforts only seem to bring their hips closer together. Not that he minds.

"Usually cradled, or on one hip," Miri snorts, "Y'know, how babies are held."

"Am I not good enough to be held as a baby? Is cradling a 22-year-old man too hard for you?"

Gale smirks as he continues to shift his body against her, his legs squeezing around her waist. Miri laughs. She adjusts her arms slightly, trying not to let him pull her down on top of him. Gale grins at the sound of her laughter, his hands clutching tight to her shoulders.

"I'm starting to see more parallels," she teases back. When he shifts his hips again, Miri intentionally squeezes the meat of his thighs, drawing a gasp from him. The quick aversion of his eyes suggests he hopes she didn’t hear it. But he knows better.

“Is that so?” Gale certainly won’t let that go unchallenged. If they’re to dance, he’ll gladly escalate. He shifts his lower body against her, leveraging his legs around her waist to pull her tighter against his hips. “What parallels might those be?"

"Clingy. Needy." Miri smirks. "A bit fussy?"

"Me? Fussy? I beg your pardon," he replies, feigning offense. With another cheeky smirk and wiggle of his hips his presses his significantly less than half hard need against her. Breathless and teasing, he adds, "I prefer the term attention seeking.”

"Same thing," Miri returns shaking her head. She groans slightly, long canines biting at her lip as she strains. "Alright, I think my back is starting to get pretty mad at me."

"Alright, alright," he sigh reluctantly. He tries to ignore the sharp twist in his stomach at the thought that this might just end without anything more happening between them.

Gale unwinds himself from around her, letting go of her shoulders and transferring his weight to the floor. Miri pries his legs off and when she stands upright it’s with a loud groan. She leans back the opposite way with her hands on her lower back.

"Fucking hells," she grumbles before her back pops. Gale sit up and watches her with a soft smirk, wincing at the sound.

"Remind me to never make you angry," he teases, "I don't want to find out what a punch from those muscles would feel like."

“Hah! A good life lesson," she returns with a smirk. Miri rotates her upper body back and forth a few times to loosen the tension in her back.

"I suppose so," he murmurs, eyes lingering on what muscles he could make out in her arms past the sleeves of her oversized shirt. As she shifts the hem of that oversized shirt lifts to show more of those ridiculous little shorts, and those even more ridiculous thighs-

Having felt them supporting him, carrying him all too effortlessly, Gale found it impossible to tear his eyes away. Miri's small and lithe, but every inch of her frame is densely corded with muscle. The quiet intensity of her strength is somehow simultaneously terrifying and incredibly attractive.

She huffs and shakes her arms out before going to retrieve her juice. Gale's eyes can’t help but follow, his gaze lingering. If it were anyone else she would be intimidating. But it’s Miri. And if he’s honest he’s never had such a good friendship - such a good bond with just about anyone.

And yet here he is again, on his ass in their kitchen, just staring. His mind positively buzzing with questions. With images. Again. Is she leaning over the counter like that intentionally? Did that mean anything to her? Miri noticed, she grinned, she liked it...

Maybe he could do more-

What would she do if they finally kissed-

How would she sound if-

Miri leans over the counter, trying to steady the thundering of her heart. She’s grateful for the moment to turn away - to look away from his face. His perfect, smug, bearded face and those plush lips-

Her face is burning hot - though she can’t decide if it’s hotter than the churning in her stomach. Why had she done that? She shouldn’t have picked him up in the first place, let alone all of...that.

Miri takes a long swallow of her juice before scrubbing a hand over her face. This can is just about the same width as-

STOP.

Gale lets out a sigh, as he shakes his head, trying in vain to clear away the myriad images his mind unhelpfully supplies of Miri. Seen and unseen. But when his eyes finally drift back up to her, trailing up the thick, silky length of her wine dark hair they snag on her ears. One long tip exposed as he head tilts to one side.

And it’s pink.

Flushed enough it makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Miri only blushes like that for two reasons. She’s either drunk or someone she likes is flirting with her. Both rare, only one definitely not applicable here.

“Miri,” Gale blurts out her name - unable to mask the shock or the enthusiasm in his tone. And when she turns to look at him with an arched brow he realizes with a jolt his mouth has moved before his brain can catch up.

What on Toril is that look for? Miri’s grateful for the can still at her lips when she meets his gaze. There’s something there she’s never seen - his pupils are wide and his cheeks are still flushed, but she can’t put her finger on what that expression is. Whatever it is makes her breath catch.

“What?”

It’s there. Clear as day on her face. As they stare at one another a bit wide-eyed Gale sees that flush across the bridge of her nose and over her cheeks.

She liked it.

Likes him?

Gods damn him, he needs to find out. Just that little dusting of pink is enough to make his ego swell. Gale lifts a knee to prop up one of his arms, and doesn’t fail to notice the way her eyes flicker over the movement and across his chest before they’re back on his face. His lips quirk up slowly into a confident grin.

“Think you’d ever do that again?”

"Careful what you wish for," Miri returns with a laugh, brushing it off.

"Oh, don't worry," He chuckles, that damn confident smirk on his lips. "I'm not afraid of a little manhandling."

"Clearly," Miri retorts from over her can. She looks away briefly as she finishes her juice. That look in his eyes...

Gale nods. That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s standing and swaggering his way to her side.

"In fact, I think I'm in the mood right now," he purrs, his eyes filled with mischief. Delighted at the way that’s enough to bring her eyes snapping back to him.

Miri quirks a brow at him as he approaches. His grin widens when she straightens in response to him moving closer. A thrill runs through them both when he places his hands on her hips.

"A mood?" Miri questions softly, looking up at him.

"Mhmm," he hums, running his hands down her hips in a way that could only be described as possessive. "I’d like to see how much you can handle..."

Gale leans closer, slowly guiding her - always gently and soft enough she could easily break away if she wanted. But she never once breaks eye contact as backs her out of the kitchen and towards the nearest wall.

Miri's brows raise with surprise as he steers her backwards. Her pulse skyrockets at the look in his eyes. That lilt of his lips is nearly wicked.

"Do you?"

"Oh, definitely," he replies with a smirk as he crowds her back against the wall.

Large, warm hands knead a path down her sides and over her hips, before grasping her thighs. It’s almost too easy to lift the lythari off the ground. Miri squeaks with surprise at the sudden move.

"Gotcha," he teases lowly, his grin thoroughly self-satisfied. His fingers knead the plush muscle of her thighs as he holds her up, leaning her back firmly against the wall.

"No escaping now," Gale murmurs firmly.

Miri laughs a bit nervously. Her hands grip onto his shoulders - hesitantly at first, always mindful of her sharp nails - before she squeezes a bit more firmly. Gale chuckles back, positively thrilling at having her pinned where he could do as he liked. His grip on her thighs tightens and he pushes himself against her, their bodies flush.

Tentatively, Miri wraps her legs around his waist. Her cheeks flush a darker pink, and Gale's smirk widens. The feel of her legs over his hips, of her wrapping herself around him, drives him to new heights. Gods above.

"Comfortable?" He asks in a tauntingly cheeky tone.

"Getting there," she returns softly.

"Just getting there?" He echoes with an arched brow. He shifts his body against hers again, his hands on her thighs pulling them apart slightly. Miri gasps. She reflexively tightens her grip around his shoulders. A wicked spike of heat pulses through his stomach at the sound, a raw sort of pride welling up inside him from her reaction. His voice low and sultry, he teases in her ear, "I could make her more than comfortable, if you want...”

Hearing that little sound of surprise and feelin her clutching onto him makes him want to tease her even further. Bold, he presses his hips more firmly against hers and leans his head slightly to breathe a dark murmur in her other ear.

"That little gasp you made was cute," he purrs.

"Cute?" Miri breathes back. Her face gets a bit redder as he presses against her and he chuckles huskily at the sight.

"Yeah, really cute," he repeats. He leans in even closer, his lips just inches from the sensitive skin of her long ear. He practically growls his next words, his tone dripping with the lust he can’t hold back anymore. "I could see myself getting really addicted to that sound."

Gods above, Miri, how did you get here ? And since when is Gale Dekarios this masterful at flustering you to all hells?

"Aren't you greedy?" Miri huffs back. She smirks slightly, but she's red to the tips of her long ears now.

"Definitely," he replies without shame, grinning as her tries to act cheeky despite being flustered. He rolls his hips against hers slowly, making sure to keep his body tight against hers.

Miri bites her lip slightly at the feel of him pressing his excitement against her - hot through the thin fabric of their shorts. Her breath catches.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you trapped like this," he murmurs huskily.

"Oh-" she gasps again.

The sound is extremely satisfying, rushing straight between his legs, and he savors every little reaction from her. His hands knead her thighs, gripping and squeezing reflexively as he pushes himself against her again.

"Do you feel that?" he asks in a low, sultry tone.

"Ah- yes." Her voice sounds reedy even to her own ears. How could she not?

"That's all because of you," he whispers, his voice raw and deep. He groans softly as he continues to press against her, the feeling of her soft, warm body flush against his making him even harder. "You have no idea what kind of effect you have on me, Miri...”

Miri groans softly, the friction teasing her.

"Is this...new?"

His tilts his head and presses his lips tentatively to her neck, kissing at the skin there gently as he continues his agonizingly slow, rhythmic movements against her.

"No," he mutters between kisses, "Definitely not new."

Miri gasps another soft sound, her legs twitching slightly. She tilts her head for him, her long hair shifting out of the way.

"I've thought about this for a long time," he confesses in a low tone, his breaths coming hot and ragged against her neck.

"You have?" Miri questions softly.

“I have. A lot," he replied, his lips leaving a few more kisses along her skin before he continues.

"Every time you show off how strong you are, or when I see your muscles after you finish a workout-" Gale groans quietly against her throat, his hips continuing to press against her with a slow, rhythmic motion. Desperately fighting to maintain control now. "When I hear you growl when you're annoyed-"

His lips continue to tease at her throat, unable to stop himself from nibbling along the skin as he continues to speak. The friction and heat between them just seems to grow more and more.

"Mmhh-" Miri’s breath leaves her in a sharp exhale when she feels his teeth make contact with her skin. Her stomach feels practically molten under his attentions.

"You have no idea how many dreams I've had about you," he confesses, his voice low and sultry, "About your strong hands all over me, pinning me down..."

"Ah- really?" Miri’s voice is rough and low when she replies.

"I dream about you all the time," he continues in a whisper, his lips moving further down into the crook of her neck, "About all the things I want to do to you-"

"I didn't realize -" Miri pauses with a soft, breathless moan. Her hands squeeze a bit more firmly against his shoulders before one shifts to tangle in his hair. Something to ground herself and prove she didn’t actually fall asleep at her desk. He feels warm and real against her skin... "Like what?"

A satisfied smirk pulls his lips from her skin - the delicious sparks along his scalp as she plays with his hair is the cherry on top of the signs of her enjoyment. His hips continues to move against hers, continuing to tease her with that delicious friction. Gale moves back up to her ear, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin there.

"You want me to go into specifics?"

"Yeah," she returns, hooking an arm around his shoulders. Miri tugs softly at his hair with the other hand, eliciting a soft groan that makes her smirk. "Give me a specific example."

"You really want to know that badly?" he teases, nipping at her ear before continuing, absolutely delighting in the soft sound she makes. "Alright, then..."

He leans back just far enough to meet her gaze, feeling the heat sparking between them.

"Remember when we watched that action movie last week?"

"Ugh that movie was terrible."

“Yes, it was. But that's not what I'm talking about," He chuckles lowly, a hint of amusement in his tone. "I'm referring to when you got frustrated by that rather asinine character being dense."

"What about it?" Miri's brows furrow with confusion. Gale chuckles again at her confusion, amused by her obliviousness.

"You got all annoyed and grumbly. I had to stop for a minute and remember to breathe," he confesses, his voice a low murmur against her ear, "I spent the whole damn night thinking about those little growls you made when you were pissed off."

"My growling?" Miri huffs a soft laugh, incredulous. "That's what you're dreaming about?"

"Yes," he answers simply, his breath hot against her skin, "I’m not sure what it is, but hearing you growl like that just makes me want you more."

Miri's lips tip up with a bemused smile - such a commonplace thing to be excited by. But it quickly turns mischievous. She leans in closer to his ear, making sure her chest is pressed flush against his.

"This growl?" She asks softly. The soft purr of her voice makes his breath hitch. Miri rumbles a low growl of irritation in her chest - just like what he would’ve heard that night. Gale stiffens against her as her growl vibrates through him. A shiver of pure desire runs through him.

"F- fuck," he curses softly, his grip on her thighs tightening on reflex.

"Ooh, it is," she murmurs smugly. Miri’s grin widens and she lets out another lower, more predatory growl.

He lets out a shaky breath, the effects of that low, guttural sound sending a shiver of pleasure straight to his core. Gale shifts against her, the friction between their bodies becoming downright intoxicating. Miri's confidence is bolstered by his response - especially the lack of verbal riposte.

"You know," she murmurs, pulling her fingers through his hair and drawing a soft shiver and another delightful groan from him, "Lythari don't only growl when they're mad."

His eyelids flutter slightly. Gale’s hips continues to grind against her - feeling practically on fire with desire. She seems bent on driving him absolutely mad.

"They don't?" he asks with a low, ragged breath. "What are other reasons they growl?"

"Lots of reasons," she returns, "Dominance, possession, passion, pleasure..." She leans in to press a kiss just below his ear. "Play your cards right and you can even make a lythari purr."

His breath hitches again, his heart racing in his chest. He was already hanging onto her every word, but at that last little tidbit he groans involuntarily, a shiver running through his body.

"Oh, please," he breathes, already delirious from her touch and her tone.

"Sorry, that's the only one I can't do on command," Miri says softly, lips a torturously smug expression showing a hint of those sharp teeth.

"Damn it," he curses under his breath, groaning again as his head involuntarily tilts to the side, giving her more access to his neck. "Why'd you have to say it now? I'll never be able to stop thinking about it."

Miri groans softly when he exposes his neck. She leans in but hesitates - even as Gale lets out a soft sound between whine and groan. She can't let that be first contact. So she pulls back, moving her hand to his face, tilting it towards hers.

"Consider it a goal," she breathes, before tugging him in - finally- for a kiss.

The moment her hand touches his face and tugs him closer, he eagerly follows her lead, practically meeting her halfway. This is what he'd dreamed of, what he'd hoped and longed for, for so long. She is soft and warm and perfect. Having her here in his arms, pressed up against him like this - it’s something out of his best fantasies.

Gods he’s wanted to kiss Miri for longer than he can recall. Maybe always. He responds immediately, his lips moving hungrily against hers, seeking more of her touch, of her taste, of her.

This she's dreamed of. He's good- or maybe she's just wildly out of practice- it's delightful. He’s heat and tenderness and need. Miri moans softly against his lips, tugging his hair softly to keep him close.

Gale groans into the kiss, the sound quickly turning into a quiet, throaty moan as she tugs at his hair. He practically melts beneath her touch, his brain going fuzzy with his desire.

Miri nips his bottom lip gently, drawing a gasp, before licking it with the tip of her tongue. The feeling of her tongue has his knees practically buckling. He returns the favor, his lips seeking hers again, his tongue delving into her mouth, tasting every inch of her he could reach. Gale's hands on her thighs grips tighter, the fingers of one hand slowly creeping up and under the hem of her shorts.

Miri whimpers softly, stroking her tongue against his when it comes between her lips. Her legs tighten around his waist and Gale grips at them reflexively. His hands run up the back of her thighs, slipping under her shorts and reaching the soft, sensitive skin of her rear.

His fingers dug into her flesh, firmly gripping her in his hands, pulling her closer against him even as he presses firmly against her. Miri jolts slightly with surprise, breaking their kiss with a gasp. But it melts into delight and she's kissing him again.

It’s all consuming - lips and tongue and teeth moving fiercely - taking, needing, feeling. Exploring one another at long last.

He needs more of her, practically craving her like a drug.

She can’t get enough needs him closer.

Miri tugs at his hair again and he moans. Her other hand trails nails over his back where she can reach - gentle, teasing. His body arches under her touch. He loves it, the little hint of pain and pleasure making him shiver as his hands grips her ass even tighter.

"I want you so badly," he breathes between kisses, his words a ragged gasp against her lips.

"Your room or mine?" Miri breathes back.

"Mine," he answers immediately, his voice a low, urgent murmur against her lips. "I want you in my bed-" He breaks off, one of his hands leaving her shorts to travel her back, his fingers tracing along her spine as he pulls her into him and away from the wall. "I need you in my bed-"

Her back arches at the touch and she shivers. She kisses over his face, and squeezes her legs a little tighter around his waist, locking her ankles together. He groans again, the feeling of being caught so completely by her making his head spin.

"Then let's go," she murmurs.

Her response had him practically growling, his lips moving on instinct against the skin of her face, seeking her mouth again, wanting more of her.

" Gods-, " he gasps. "I'm not sure I can make it down the hall like this-"

"I bet you can," Miri purrs. A huff of a laugh escapes him, a mix of amused and aroused, and he quickly shifts his arms under her body, lifting her up against him.

"You're a hell of a handful, y'know that?" he teased, starting his way toward his bedroom with her wrapped around him.

"What'd you say the other day?" Miri teases, tightening her arms around his neck, "'The best things in life are the most challenging'?"

Gale laughs softly, the sound rough and a little breathless as his body thrums with the desire to have her. At the feel of being so fucking close.

"Are you trying to turn me on even more than you already have?" he asks, turning the corner and striding toward his room.

"Maybe?" She nips at his earlobe.

He groans, the sound low and throaty. Between her teeth against his skin and her legs wraps around him, he is nearly aflame. Gale practically stumbles into his room, throwing the door open. He all but throws her down onto the bed, drawing a surprised shrieking laugh from her. It dies quickly as he climbs on, and she snakes her arms around him when he lays over top of her.

"I would've worn something nicer if I knew I was going to make it to your room," she murmurs with a soft grin.

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, his brow raising slightly. "You already look sexy as hell."

He leans forward and nuzzles at her hair, breathing in the scent of her, letting his body press down against hers. He shifts one of his legs between hers, pressing his knee up against her, wanting to feel more of her. Miri groans softly, her head tipping back.

"I'm not going to need anything else," he whispers against her ear.

"But it's pajamas-" she counters, "And not even cute ones."

He chuckles, his lips finding the exposed skin of her throat, pressing tender kisses all the way up.

"As if that matters," he breathes against her skin. With a smirk, his hands move to the hem of her shirt, sliding it up to bare the skin of her stomach. "I'm undressing you anyway."

Miri huffs, but feels some of the anxiety fizzling away with his reassurances. The muscles of her stomach tense and shift beneath the warmth of his hands . Her breath hitches in her throat as he makes his way higher.

His hands trail higher up along the skin of her stomach, his lips peppering her neck with kisses. When he reaches the bottom of her sports bra, his hands pause, his fingers playing with the elastic. He pulls back from her neck to look down at her, a smirk on his lips.

"May I?" he asked, his voice a low, eager murmur.

"Yeah," she answers breathlessly.

Gale smiles that charming grin of his and quickly peels her shirt and bra off, pausing to admire the sight of her, half naked, laid out beneath him on his bed. Gods it’s a dream come true - he fights the urge to pinch himself. His eyes roam over her form, taking in every detail, every freckle, the sharp planes of her body.

Miri shivers under his gaze, her chest moving with shallow breaths. Her flush spreads from her cheeks to her chest. She knows she's fit, sure, but she's self-conscious about being small and a bit flat (hard not to get in one's own head growing up with several very attractive sisters). She can't help but feel nervous to be appraised. At least, by someone she truly wants.

He notices her nerves, the little shiver that runs through her, the way her gaze flickers away under his gaze, and it almost breaks his heart. He can't fathom why she would feel nervous - she’s strong, and lean, and absolutely gorgeous. As he's concerned, Miri is perfect. Better than he had even imagined.

Holding her gaze, Gale leans down to press a kiss to the skin between her breasts. His hands shift to hold her sides as his lips continue to trail lower. It’s almost easy to get lost in her, the constellations on her skin, the smooth warmth of her. Miri’s fingers card through his hair and he lifts his gaze to hers, his lips still pressed to the skin of her stomach.

"You're adorable," he whispers, his voice filled with affection.

"Adorable?" She repeats. Her brows steeple. Not exactly the praise she had been hoping for. A bit...diminutive.

"Adorable, sexy, I would tell you you're beautiful too-” His lips go back to her skin, continuing the trail downwards, blazing a path down her torso. “-but I'm also in the middle of something very important-"

His hands slide down her sides, exploring every inch. Miri barks a laugh at his reply.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt," Miri returns sarcastically.

He laughs under his breath, shaking his head slightly.

"I'm trying to focus here," he protests in mock irritation, his hands still caressing her sides, his thumbs tracing small circles on her hips. Gale teases her with a playful expression, his fingers playing with the hem of her shorts. "How am I supposed to tell you how gorgeous you are when I'm trying to get you out of these damn shorts?"

"I thought you liked these?" Miri returns playfully.

"Oh, I do," he admits, "But they're in my way right now." He hooks his fingers into the waist of her shorts, slowly beginning to pull them down over her hips. Those large brown eyes are pleading and dark as he meets her gaze. "I'm more interested in what's under them-"

"So impatient," she returns with a smirk. Miri lifts her hips slightly to help.

"You’re damn right I am.” Gale watches enraptured as her shorts come off. Leaving her in just her underwear. Lying on his bed. Beneath him. And more radiantly beautiful than he ever imagined. His eyes drink her in, hungrily roving over her body, taking in every bit of her, and he groans in delight.

His words are a ragged murmur when he can finally speak. "You're gorgeous- More than- Divine...."

"Seems a bit unfair," Miri returns softly, gesturing towards him. She’s only ever afforded glimpses. The chance to see more - feel more- has her heart pounding and her core starting to ache.

He looks down at himself, realizing he's still fully clothed, and he chuckles.

"I suppose it is," Gale agrees. But he's not in a big rush to fix it, not when he has her like this, beneath him on his bed. Until he imagines her seeing him equally undressed, looking up at him like this-

That’s enough to make his body thrum with anticipation.

"Wanna take it off for me?" he teased, his eyes on hers, a smirk on his lips.

"Hells yeah," Miri replies with a grin. Miri holds her arms out and beckons with her fingers. "C'mere."

Gods- he loves how eager she is. The way she looks at him with those dark, hungry eyes - the sound of her voice as her arms are held out for him. He moves closer, leaning down over her and bracing his hands bracing on either side of her.

"Now what?" Gale asks with a smile, his voice low and playful.

"Now it's my turn," Miri replies with a grin. She wraps her arms around his middle, and with a twist rolls them both over so she's straddling his hips.

"Well," he says, his voice breathless with laughter, "You're not wasting any time, are you?"

"Your impatience is contagious," she returns playfully. "And I've been curious for ages about what you keep hidden under those baggy shirts."

Her hands find their way under his shirt, nimble fingers exploring the planes of his stomach as she works the fabric up. His breath hitches in his throat as her hands make their way under his shirt, her fingers tracing over his skin and making him shiver from her touch.

"You do realize I sleep topless right?" Gale teases, shifting under her touch, moving to help her pull his shirt off. Miri huffs a laugh.

"How would I know that?" She pulls his shirt the rest of the way off and tosses it towards his hamper.

"Fair point-" he admits, watching as the shirt goes flying.

He lays there, shirtless, his chest and stomach bare under her gaze, and suddenly, he feels vulnerable. Gale looks up at her, trying to see the look on her face, trying to figure out what she’s thinking.

"So, what do you think?" he asks, a hint of insecurity creeping into his voice.

"Absolutely ridiculous-" Miri returns, her eyes roaming him with a dark gaze, "That you've been keeping this to yourself." She looks up at him with an accusatory expression. "You're even hotter than I thought, and that's hardly fair."

A flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck at her words, but the sight of her gaze roaming his body and the look on her face have his heart racing, his nerves replaced by a rush of heady arousal. He swallows hard, trying to collect his thoughts, his words.

"It- it's not my fault you never asked-" he protests faintly.

"Oh, yeah, I'm just supposed to waltz in, and 'hey Gale, you should take her shirt off'-" Miri blow a soft dismissive sound. She leans in to trail kisses down the side of his neck.

"Ridiculous," she breathes, her kisses moving lower, "Fucking Adonis..."

Gale laughs softly, the sound turning shaky as her lips move across his neck, her kisses sending jolts of electricity down his spine and straight to his groin. He arches slightly beneath her, the feeling of her body against his sending waves of heat through him. His hands move, resting on her hips, his fingers tracing over her bare skin.

"Are you really complaining?" he asks breathlessly as her kisses trail lower.

"Yes," she returns with mock severity. Her tongue flits out to taste his skin as she kisses her way down his chest. Her hands smooth down his sides before she hooks her fingers in the waistband of his shorts.

He can't help but groan in response to her ministrations, the feeling of her hands roaming and her tongue on his skin and her hands roaming over him nearly short-circuiting his brain completely. The sound of her voice calling him 'Adonis' is going to be on repeat in his mind for weeks, he just knows it.

His breath is quick and heavy when he answers her, though the words come out as a ragged gasp.

"Why the hells are you complaining if you think I'm hot?"

He laughs softly underneath her, but his laughter is cut off by a soft gasp as her teeth graze his chest. She alternates between teasing gentle kisses and the occasional sharp nip and it’s driving him mad.

"Because you've been keeping this to yourself," Miri purrs back nipping his chest. "Very selfish."

Gale watches her with half lidded eyes, his mind swimming in sensation, his thoughts filled with nothing but her, her body above his, the feeling of her tongue, her hands.

Miri’s words make his imagination start to run wild(er). He can’t help but picture the many ways she might 'punish' him for being so... selfish. He shifts slightly, his hands moving from her hips to the outsides of her thighs, his fingers playing with the edges of her underwear.

"You want me to make it up to you?" he whispers, his voice low and eager.

Miri looks up at him from where she's licking a path down his sternum with a quizzical expression.

"Make it up to me?" She repeats.

"You said I was being selfish-" he responds, breathing in deeply as she continues her path down his chest, his stomach, the muscles of his abdomen tensing under her lips.

"I should make it up to you-" he repeats, his hands tracing up her legs, his fingers reaching the edges of her underwear.

Miri huffs a soft laugh. "I'm joking, Gale."

Her fingers tug softly at the waistband of his shorts. Gale groans, his hips shifting instinctively underneath her, the feeling of her hands there making him shiver.

He gazes at her, ochre eyes dark and fixed on her face, not even trying to hide how much he wants her right now, not even trying to hide how badly he wants her. Miri can’t suppress the growl that rumbles through her at the sight of him - wanton and flushed beneath her.

"You might be joking-" he says, his voice ragged. "but I'm not-"

"No?" Miri gives him a cheeky, lopsided smile in response, some confusion evident in her tone.

She slides his shorts down and off when he lifts his hips slightly. She takes a moment to admire him - marveling at his tanned skin, his strong physique. He clearly takes care of himself...

And he clearly wants her. Gods, that much is very clear through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. She almost startles herself at the feel of her hungry growl vibrating in her chest.

Gale watches, his breaths quick and heavy, as she looks over his body, admiring him, taking him in. He groans as those bright green eyes rove over him, that familiar flush of embarrassment returning, even as his desire for her just continues to soar higher and higher.

He can feel her eyes on him, there, as he strains against the fabric of his underwear, positively aching in his need for her.

"No," he breathes. "I'm entirely serious-"

That's...oh, that's a lot. Miri can feel her core throbbing at the very idea of it. But she's not even sure the last time she... Gods that's big. How...?

Miri's startled out of her thoughts at his words and looks up. Fuck that expression. Lips a little kiss swollen, cheeks flushed, eyes dark. Absolutely debauched before they’ve even really started.

He groans again at the way she bites her lip as she look at him. He wants to know what those lupine teeth feel like on his lips.

He can practically see the heat building inside her, the way her breath starts to hitch, how her face flushes, the way those sharp pupils round and grow. It only serves to make him want her more.

Months of dreaming and aching for her.

There's a hint of nervousness in his voice when he speaks this time, his words a low, ragged murmur.

"You okay up there, Mir...?"

"Ah- yeah!" She flushes a bit more, embarrassed by her reaction. "Yes, I'm good."

Her fingers trace idle patterns against his hips where she holds him. He laughs softly, the sound breathless.

"You sure...?" Gale asks, watching her, the nervousness still present in his voice. "I didn't break you, did I?"

It's a very real concern, a very real fear. As much as his body aches for her, as much as he wants her, he doesn't want to push her too far, to push her to do something she isn’t comfortable with.

Miri shakes her head with a soft grin. "Not yet, no."

A shudder runs down his spine. Yet. His mind swims once more with the possibilities, the way he wants her and the things he wants to do to her. The thought of how desperately he wants to make her come undone-

His fingers squeeze and flex against her thighs. Gale's not sure how much longer he's going to be able to hold back, how much longer he'll be able to control himself-

Miri leans forward, running her hands up his sides, and presses a few kisses to his chest. She needs to feel him. All of him. More than she can manage.

He shudders at the feeling of her hands on his skin, the kisses sending sparks down his spine that only increase his already unbearable arousal. Gale feels nearly breathless from the desperate need for her to be bare, the need to feel her skin against his everywhere-

"Can I-" he manages to gasp out, one hand moving to the edge of her underwear.

Miri shivers slightly, the request making her stomach clench with a coiling heat.

"O-okay," she breathes.

He almost stops in surprise as she agrees, her tone shaky and breathless. It’s almost too good to be true. He's careful, almost unsure he heard her correctly, his fingers tracing lightly over the edge of her underwear, hesitating.

"You- are you sure...?" Gale’s voice leaves him in a near reverent whisper. He needs to make sure he's not pushing her too far. Wants to be absolutely certain that she really want this. He couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

"Yes," Miri nods, more vehemently when she notices his hesitation. She’s not uncertain about him. Not even a little bit. Only of herself. So, softly, she adds, "I want you."

It's a simple three words. A simple admission of want.

And yet they affect him like nothing else.

With that simple phrase, the damn of his restraint breaks.

All of Gale’s need comes rushing free. His arms come around her, pulling her against him and rolling them back over so she’s once more beneath him, his body pressing against hers.

"Gods, I want you too," he breathes, his voice shaking with pure, unbridled need.

The heat in her stomach flares hotter with him above her. Looking at her with those dark, needful eyes. When he steals a heady kiss she moans. But he’s gone all too soon, sitting up and straddling her thighs.

He looks down at her beneath him, his eyes tracing over her body, taking in the sight of her, his body pressed up against hers. He's nearly trembling with his need for her. As if by finally letting it free Gale’s months long need for Miri is consuming him. And he feels ready to drown beneath it.

‘I want you’ echoes on repeat. He’s never felt so insatiable before.

His hands move to her hips, his fingers playing again with the edge of her underwear, wanting to pull them off, wanting to feel her against him bare-

Miri watches him with a dark, heated gaze. Equal parts curious and hungry. Her heart is hammering against her chest with anticipation.

Gale’s hands are trembling as they move to the sides of her underwear, slowly, carefully pulling them down over her hips, down her legs. He groans softly at the sight of her obvious desire.

His eyes are dark as he looks down at her, his eyes following his hands as they continue pulling the fabric away, his breaths coming in quick, shuddering rasps.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he whispers, as he pulls the garment completely off, tossing it to the floor. Heated gaze takes her in before looking up to lock on hers.

Miri’s breath catches at his reaction. His gaze is so intense it feels almost like a touch, leaving her skin feeling warm and tingling. And when it meets her gaze she feels frozen to the spot. She’s never felt more wanted more seen than under his unbelievably dark and hungry gaze.

He can't look away from her, can't tear his eyes away from the sight of her bare body beneath him, the sensation of her skin against his palms, the feel of her so close. He runs a hand down her side, the touch of his fingers soft and gentle. Reverent.

Miri sighs softly under his touch, her eyelids fluttering softly.

"Can I-" he breathes a ragged whisper, his eyes tracing over her, wanting more, desperate for more, "Can I taste you?"

Her eyes snap back open with surprise at his request. Pupils snapping tight before blowing wide once more. It feels like her whole body throbs with the very idea of it. Picturing it...

"You...want to?" Miri whispers back.

"Oh, gods yes," he replies, his voice shaking. His breath comes in quick puffs, his body practically aching to taste her. He leans in, pressing a trail of kisses down her neck, and shoulders.

She gasps at his answer - that husky, rough tone of his need, how fervently he wants it. Her head tilts back to give him better access and she's squirming slightly beneath him, her hands clutching at his waist.

"I want to taste all of you-" he whispers, his teeth nipping at her skin.

When he bites - oh, she growls.

The sound of her growl, the feeling of her hands on him, the sight of her beneath him, wanting, has his heart racing. He runs his hands over her hips, over her stomach, his fingers tracing over her skin, finding every spot that makes her gasp and shiver, every spot that makes her moan. And all the while, he kisses and nips at her skin, moving down, down, down-

Miri's a chorus of sounds under his attention. Panting with need, gasping and moaning at touch, growling at bites. Her eyes want to close with pleasure, but she can't tear her gaze away from the sight of him practically worshipping her body.

And Gale is. He is worshiping her, with every bite, every kiss, his very goal the sounds she makes as he moves his way down her body, loving the feel of her body shuddering beneath him, the way she gasps and moan.

And as he moves lower, Gale groans at the sight of her, his heart rate thundering as his mouth finally reaches her core, and he gently runs his tongue across it-

Miri jolts at the feeling - a sudden punched-out moan leaving her lips.

The sound of her moan filling his ears as her taste coats his tongue sends a wave of heat through him.

He takes his time, starting slow, his tongue gently exploring her sensitive flesh, savoring her taste, listening to the sounds she’s making, his hands moving over her hips, pulling her closer to him.

"Ohhh fuck-"

His eyes look up to watch her face as she curses, feeling the word like a bolt of heat straight to his own core. He continues his ministrations, his tongue running over her wet heat again and again.

Gale works slowly, wanting to thoroughly savor her, wanting to keep going until she can't even form words-

Miri whines - her back arching and her body writhing with the pleasure of it. One hand fists in the sheets, the other moves to his hair, pushing it back out of his face.

When their eyes meet she shivers. He's not just doing it performatively - gods the look in his eyes - he's enjoying it. Wants it. Fucking hells.

The feeling of her hand in his hair and the blissful look in her eyes is driving him insane, his own body aching with need as he continues his attention on her core. Gale loves the way she looks, the sounds she makes, the way she whines, how her body is twitching and writhing beneath his touch.

He responds to her look, his eyes darkened, dilated, practically devouring the way she looks right now. He hums a deep moan against her.

"Ahn gods Gale-"

She can't look away, completely captivated by him. By the raw, unfettered need in his eyes. Gale buries his face a little deeper, grasping her by the hips to hold her against his mouth. He grinds his own neglected, aching need into the bed absently as he savors her.

He flicks his tongue against her swollen bud and she bucks with a sharp gasp.

He shivers at the sound of her gasping his name, the feel of her bucking beneath him, every response from her driving him even more wild.

He loves this. Has maybe never loved anything mor than this. Seeing her like this - his strong, ferocious love completely at his mercy, practically writhing with pleasure.

And the taste of her, gods-

He focuses his attention on that sensitive spot, his tongue moving over it again and again in quick little laps.

Miri makes a stuttering series of high moans, each one spurred by the movement of his tongue. Her back bows and her hips jolt.

Gods how loves these sounds. Her every arch and gasp and twitch. He continues without pause, without slowing, savoring every second of driving her wild with his mouth. His tongue continues its relentless rhythm, his arms moving under her thighs to wrap around and grasp her hips, holding her open and in place against him even as she bucks and writhes beneath him-

Miri's legs start to tremble, toes curling. She's nearly dizzy with the effect of his mouth on her.

"Ah- ah! Gale!" She moans again, her hand in his hair tightening. "That's-! I'm-"

The sound of her practically whining his name, the way her legs are shaking, how she arches and gasps, it's all almost overwhelming, how she sounds, the way she looks right now, the way she’s shivering-

He keeps going, his tongue unrelenting, and one hand moves from her hip, sliding down to gently tease at her entrance.

Miri cries out, high and loud - she's so close.

The sound has his heart stuttering, the knowledge that she’s right on the edge-

He keeps his focus on her delicious little clit, his tongue continuing its relentless attention as he slides one finger into her, gods-

The tension in her core snaps. Her back bows up off the bed, every muscle tremoring and bunching. Miri can hardly catch her breath as she sees stars.

Gale moans a ragged sound in the back of his throat. It's everything he could have ever hoped for, the way she thrashes beneath him, the way she clenches around his finger and he can feel the wave of her climax as it overcomes her. Tasting her ecstasy on his tongue.

He continues his attention for a few more seconds, watching her expression as he works her through it, loving the way she looks as she rides out the wave, his heart hammering in his chest as he does.

Miri feels like boneless liquid as she comes back down. Soft shivers of aftershocks roll through her. One lick too many and she has to tug at Gale's hair to make him stop.

It's a struggle for him to tear himself away, the taste and sounds of her almost too enticing to resist.

But he does, reluctantly. Gale watches her with a satisfied grin as he slowly withdraws his finger, watching her as she shudders with aftershocks. Miri practically glows with pleasure. From him.

Miri lets out a soft groan that devolves into a low growl. She's not sure she's ever climaxed so hard. And he looks so pleased with himself. (And he should. Fuck.)

"Hells," she breathes, throwing one arm over her eyes as her chest heaves, "Where did you learn how to do that?"

He lets out a breathless laugh, his own heart still hammering in his chest. Gale can’t help but preen a bit at her praise. He savors licking his lips, almost mourns wiping her from his beard. His body aches for her.

"Lots of practice," he replies, the tone of his voice still ragged, still needy, "Paying attention to the responses you get from a person..."

He pulls himself up, crawling up her body and leaning over her to nuzzle at her hair. Miri huffs a soft laugh, a witty reply ready, but it dries up on her tongue when he whispers in her ear like sultry silk as he breathes her in, “And a lot of imagination involving a certain someone."

"What...?"

She turns to look at him with surprise. Her hands automatically find their way to his skin, holding him close to her. His breath catches as she touches him, his heart skipping a beat at the feel of her hands, how she holds onto him like she don't want to let go.

His own hands move to her waist, his thumbs tracing gentle little circles on her skin as he resumes nuzzling her hair, his lips at her ear.

"You wouldn't believe the things I've imagined doing to you..." he whispers, his voice low and rough.

Miri groans, feeling the embers of her arousal quickly sparking back to a roaring blaze.

"I had no idea," Miri murmurs back.

The sound of her voice, gods, the way she groans. Miri’s responses make his heart pound a fury against his ribs. He needs to hear more, needs to continue.

Gale hums a low sound, moving in closer still, his voice a low whisper, "How about I tell you some of the things I've thought of...?"

"Are you trying to drive me mad?" Miri returns.

"Oh, absolutely." There's a wicked grin on his face as he replies, his hands moving over her again. Over her breasts, her stomach, her hips. "Imagining all the ways I want to make you scream-"

Miri growls softly. Her own hands roam, exploring chest and stomach, the arches of his hips...

"I wish I'd known sooner," Miri returns with a breathless playfulness, "Could've saved me a few online purchases..."

He shivers at the feel of her hands, groans at her words. The very hint of what she might mean having his heart and mind racing, his tongue licking at his lips as he looks down at her-

"A few?" Gale asks, arching a brow at her. "How many online purchases are we talking, here?"

"Uh-" Miri bites her lip for a moment, "Just a few."

The sight of has his thoughts running away from him. He leans in, nuzzling her neck, letting his voice drop back to a murmur against her skin.

"A few purchases?" Gale repeats, needing to know. "Or a few boxes?"

"I mean, no one delivers things efficiently any more," Miri counters, "I don't think number of boxes is a fair question -"

His breath catches at her reply, his heart drumming in his chest as his imagination goes wild with the possibilities. The things she might have bought to satisfy those thoughts she was having...

His mind is filled with images, imagining her lying in bed, trying out each new acquisition on herself - the sounds she would make, how she would look.

Gale groans softly. He presses a few kisses to her neck, nuzzling her skin while he continues to speak, his voice still low, "And you're telling me you've used and enjoyed every single one of these purchases...?"

"It's silly to buy something and not try it. Not everything-" Miri pauses for a moment. Her cheeks flush a bit more, realizing she's probably said too much. "How did we even get here? I was trying to make a different point-"

Gale can't help the deep chuckle that escapes his lips at how flushed she is.

"And what was this ‘different point’, Miri?" He huffs a soft breath out of his nose with amusement as he presses more kisses to her neck, "Because I think this new topic of discussion is much more interesting."

"That I wouldn't've needed those things if I'd known you were not only willing," Miri breathes, "But quite skilled."

He lifts his head to look down at her, a slightly cheeky smile on his face, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Did you just imply that I'm better than your online purchases?"

"Maybe-"

"Careful, Mir," he says, his voice low and rough as he barely suppresses a shiver of excitement and a smug grin, "Or I might get a bit full of myself and start demanding we demonstrate just how much better I am than all your toys."

Miri groans. "You don't need the ego boost."

He grins down at her, unable to stop himself as his pride swells and smugness practically bubbling out of him.

"Perhaps not," he agrees, still in that low, rough voice, "But I do need something right now-"

"Yeah?" Miri smiles sultrily up at him, one hand finding its way into his hair again. The other slides down to his hip and tugs him forward to press against her.

A soft gasp escapes his lips when their hips press together and he can feel the heat of her against him. Gale leans in closer, covering her body with his and nuzzling against her neck. His hands continue to roam, one grasping at her thigh, the other cupping a breast, his thumb rubbing the tight peak of her nipple.

"There are two very specific things I need right now..." he murmurs between kisses.

"Two?" Miri returns, puzzled. It’s hard to think with the way he explores her - touches so warm and inviting, soft and hard, sweet and amorous. Gods those kisses are like the lines of a litany. She always knew Gale was thorough - in just about everything he does- but this is a whole other level.

"The first," he murmurs, moving his lips to her ear, "Is that I need you. Right here, right now-"

He presses her down against the bed, wanting her to feel his need, the ache of his body drawn out inexorably by her every breath, her every movement.

Miri moans softly and parts her legs further to feel him pressing directly against her core. The room fills with the soft sound of their ragged breaths as they cling to one another.

Gale is positively aching at the feeling. He can’t decide whether he is grateful or vexed by the briefs that still cling to him. Entirely too small, but keeping him from rushing too quickly.

"The second...?"

"The second," he whispers at her ear when he manages to catch his breath, "Is that I need to hear you screaming my name."

Miri moans softly at the feel of him - hot and hard- sliding against her still sensitive flesh. Her breath catches at his whisper. The fabric of his briefs does little to dull the feeling - only adding friction despite the growing wetness of the fabric.

"I'm sure you can earn it," Miri purrs back, tugging softly at his hair.

Miri is trying to drive him insane with raw need, she must be. He aches and throbs for her. All he can do to respond is a low groan, heat rushing through his body at the mere suggestion.

"Challenge accepted," Gale breathes with a cheeky grin.

Miri grins back wolfishly. "Good."

She tugs him in for a kiss, moaning softly at the taste of herself on his lips. He returns the kiss with an fervor to match, the feel of her pressed against him, her hands in his hair, the taste of her... all of it makes his head spin with need and desperation.

Gale presses forward, leaning his weight against her. His hips grind against hers more purposefully, the ache in his body almost overwhelming him.

"Need you, Miri-" he whispers hoarsely between kisses, "Need you so badly-"

"I'm ready for you, Gale," Miri answers softly between kisses. Her fingers trail down to tug at the fabric of his briefs and his breath stutters.

The sound her voice, breathless and panting wrapped around his name fuels the fire burning in him. He needs to hear her scream it - but he doesn't want to rush, he wants to savor this moment. Savor every touch and taste of Miri he can have.

"Are you sure?" Gale’s voice is equal parts concern and barely constrained desire as he asks. "I don't want to rush-"

Miri huffs a soft laugh.

"Yes, I'm sure," she answers earnestly. She hooks one leg over his hips and tugs gently. His hips automatically move forward in response, and he moans at the friction. Then teasingly, she adds, "At this point you're being a tease."

"I'm just trying to be patient-" he gasps.

"And you're very good," Miri murmurs, pressing kisses to his jawline. Every tender kiss makes his heart pound. "But I'm not stopping you."

"I-I just don't want to-" his voice is laced with a soft whine as he responds. It breaks with another soft moan as his hips move against her again. His voice grows more pleading "-don’t want to hurt you."

Miri cups his jaw in one hand, tilting his face to hold her gaze. "You won't."

Her confidence sends a shiver down his spine and his heart aching in his chest. He swallows, his voice still pleading.

"But- but you just came-"

"And I would very much like to do it again."

Miri’s smirk is almost wicked, flashing a hint of those sharp teeth. His heart skips a beat and he groans, his body aching and his control hanging by a thread.

"Miri..." His voice is thick with desire. The sound of her name on his lips is almost a plea, "Miri- if you keep saying things like that-"

"What?" Miri murmurs with a grin, "Will you fuck me?"

Her leg tugs at his hip again, her fingers trailing sharp nails gently down his back. It draws another deep, low groan from him, his hips moving forward against her instinctively, needy and seeking friction. Miri groans appreciatively at the friction as he grinds against her again. Gale buries his face against her neck, his breath ragged.

The sound of her pleading for him, the friction as he grinds against her, the aching need to feel her, for her to feel pleasure-

"M-Miri, I swear to the gods-" his voice is low and shaky.

"Come on, Gale," she whispers, a gentle plea in his ear, "I need you. Please."

Gale’s pushed to the edge, teetering at the point of no control, and he lets out another groan, his voice almost shaking as he speaks. "Miri, I'm trying to hold back-"

"Why?" Miri cups his face between both hands now, forcing him to hold her gaze. "I’ve wanted you for months, Gale. Don’t make us wait a moment more when we both want this. Don't make me beg."

Miri tilts back to kiss him gently on the forehead before pressing hers to his. This tender affection has his heart in his throat. Gale wants nothing more than to give her everything. To please her.

And his body sings a near painful accord as he tries futilely to hold onto the last bit of his self-control. He swallows, and answers in a hoarse murmur, "Because I don't want to hurt you-"

"Gale, please," she returns, stroking his cheeks. "If it hurts I'll tell you."

Miri kisses his nose, his cheeks, his chin. He's so unbelievably sweet and good. And she adores that about him - always has. But gods, he's driving her mad.

"I know my body. I couldn't be much more ready. You have absolutely made sure of that."

"Gods-" he moans, "Miri-"

"Mmm," Miri hums low in approval when he moans her name. She can't hold back the passionate growl that rumbles in her chest. "Yes, Gale."

The sound of that growl goes straight through him, stirring up the fire raging inside him, adding to the maelstrom of need that consumes him. He has to give her what she wants, what she needs-

His hips move forward again, rubbing against her, teasing, his voice rough and strained, "You sure? You promise you'll tell me if it hurts?"

"Yes, gods, Gale, please-"

The way she’s pleading finally breaks his resolve, leaving only the raw need, the desperate ache to have her. Gale frees himself of his briefs in a quick movement, settling over her once more.

His knees shift her legs apart, his body thrumming with need as one hand moving to guide himself to her entrance. Miri moves eagerly at his touch, she threads her fingers into his hair, letting her gaze roam his face. Beauty and devotion both.

He lets out a low, shaky gasp, his head tilting back involuntarily as her fingers weave into his hair. The feeling of her hands against his scalp is sending shudders through him, his eyes searching hers with a mixture of desire and awe.

"A-anything-" he hesitates, his voice barely more than a husky whisper. Their gazes lock.

"I promise, Gale," Miri breathes, her hands clutching tightly to him.

He can't help but shiver at the sound of his name, his body thrumming with anticipation and need. Feeling her breath against his lips, her body pressed against his, her words making his heart skip a beat...

He begins to push into her, slowly, gently, his breath catching in his throat at the feel of her. It’s excruciating and euphoric all at once - hot, slick, tight, perfect.

"You... you feel so... so good," he manages to get out between quickened breaths, his voice tight and rough with the effort of holding himself back.

Miri moans a ragged reply, her head falling back onto the bed. The feel of it is overwhelming - a dull ache that quickly ebbs to pleasure. Fullness well before he's made any progress. The stretch is enough to drive the wind from her.

"Ahn fuck, Gale," Miri moans again.

He moans in response, gripping at the sheets beneath them as he continues. Gale moves slowly, gently, inching deeper and trying to give her time to adjust even as his need burning inside him like a wildfire.

Seeing her like this, the sight of her arching her back and tipping her head back, makes his grip on her hips tighten, his fingers digging into her skin.

Gale tries to hold himself back, to keep from drowning in her completely. He presses a messy kiss to her neck, his teeth nipping at the skin as he sucks and bites at it, wanting to leave his mark on her, wanting to claim her as his own. She growls and sighs with ecstasy. And when her hips finally meet his she moans again.

"Oh gods, Miri, oh gods-"

Miri lets out a breathy whine, her fingers flexing against him. He burns hotter, brighter as he pushes deeper. The pressure and the pleasure build in her like a tidal wave. He buries his face against her neck, breathing ragged, low hoarse moans escaping his lips in ragged gasps.

"Oh gods, Miri, you're so tight-"

"Ah- gods-" Miri's panting as she adjusts. "You're - ahn- fuck- so big-"

The sound of her struggling for breath, speaking in between gasps - the feeling of her so tight and warm around him - Gale feels unmoored at sea, lost in sensation and pleasure. The heat and pressure building in his stomach like a raging inferno as he continues to push deeper. Miri’s eyes roll with a cry and his heart stutters.

"Oh gods, I'm not- I'm not hurting you, am I? You feel so perfect-"

"N-nnnnnghh ah no-"Gods she can barely form words. That gasp and moan is like music to his ears, better than anything he’s ever heard. His heart thunders in his chest, every delicious squeeze like lightning up his spine.

"Are you sure-?”

"Ohhhh ffffuck. Yes, I'm sure-"

His hips move against her again, deeper, just a little bit deeper, a low moan coming up from his throat. His voice is little more than a low, ragged growl as he finally pushes all the way in.

Miri gasps at the stretch - so good but so much. It quickly dissolves into a satisfied moan. The sound breaks into a heated growl. Gale can't help the guttural moan that he lets out as she growls, the sound making his blood run hot.

The feel of her hips against his sends sparks through his body, the pleasure and sensation almost overwhelming. His hands let go of her hips, one of them moving up to grip the back of her neck as he pulls her in for a messy, hungry kiss, desperate to taste every moan and growl and gasp she makes.

"Oh dear gods, Mir-" he gasps out, his voice shaking, "You feel so- good-"

He tightens his grip on her hips, trembling as he holds back, desperate to move, but holding himself back to let her adjust.

Miri can barely think from the sensation - sharp pressure ebbing to delightful fullness. She gasps and whines while for a moment they simply cling to one another and all she can feel is him - Gale surrounding her, filling her. His warmth as he presses tender kisses to her crown as he holds her.The intimacy of this moment is like nothing he's ever felt before. He’s had partners sure. But he’s never wanted anyone quite the way he wants Miri. Never wanted to be with someone so wholly. And when he presses their foreheads together and their eyes meet - he can see it reflected in her gaze.

"Can I- move-?" he gasps out desperately.

She moans again at the way he shifts and presses against her so deep.

"Ah-" Miri gasps again, head tilting back, "Please."

He barely manages to hold back a whine as she gasps out that please. Gale lets out another groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips a bit harder, holding her tight against him.

He lets out a soft hiss of breath before he speaks. "Gods, you feel...perfect, love. You take me so... so well."

"Ah- please-" Miri pants, "Gale-"

"Yes, love?" he gasps out shakily, his fingers digging into her waist. "Is this alright? Does this feel good-"

"Yes! Gale-" Miri moans, "Move please, move," she practically whines. Her hips shift against him desperately.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath before he slowly, carefully, withdraws, shifting his grip to keep her still. Gale groans low in his throat, before he slowly pushes back in, taking every ounce of effort to keep control. Miri whimpers and whines at the torturously slow pace. Her fingers clutch at the sheets. His head dips, nuzzling his face against her neck. Gale starts to move, slowly at first, still trying to be gentle, still trying to hold back, all the while whispering hoarse, ragged moans against her neck.

He surges in to capture her lips as he rocks slowly against her. His pace increases slightly as her hands tug against his hips. When Miri growls impatiently against his mouth and nips his bottom lip he finally relents. With a whine of his own he picks up his pace.

"Gods, love...," he gasps out, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "You just... Mir, you feel so... so good."

"Hells Gale," she breathes, burning at the thrill that races down her spine and coils in her stomach with every thrust. "You’re incredible-"

Gale’s so vocal, so torturously attentive - and when he makes eye contact, all flushed, dark need, Miri feels like she might melt entirely. She can feel the smoldering embers of her desire roaring like a furnace now.

His hands tighten, as if trying to press her impossibly closer and his lips leaving small, sucking kisses at every bit of skin he can reach. His motions pick up speed, his breaths and moans coming in short gasps and pants. Miri mewls, every time their hips connect sending a bolt of white hot pleasure up her spine.

Miri's legs tremble softly as she rocks her hips against his. Every few strokes they surge together to kiss again. All teeth and desire and sound. Full of their shared delight and hunger. Wet and needy.

His hands move over her body, caressing and touching her, his touches desperate and hungry, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her skin. Gale traces the curves and lines of her figure, feeling her muscles, desperate and eager to touch her.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers between harsh breaths. “I want you to be mine, Miri...”

Miri's head tips back with a long, reedy moan. Her hands clutch at his arms as she trembles. He watches in fascination, his eyes tracing over the line of her throat, desperate to kiss and taste and bite the skin exposed to him.

“Gods, Miri, the way you sound-” he pants, "You're so responsive," he whispers, his voice low and thick with need, "I can't get enough of you."

She cries out softly, losing herself in his need, his touch, his heat. Miri moans at the snaps of his hips against hers, breathless bolts of lightning arcing up her spine. His touch is hot fire on her skin, his voice like honey in her ears.

"Gale...!"

The sound of his name on her lips makes something shiver and shiver within him. His touch traces paths of fire on her skin, mapping every curves and slopes wanting to know her body as well as his own.

"Say my name again," he whispers against her neck, his voice gruff and raw, "say it again."

"Gale!"

He lets out a low hiss, burying his face into the curve of her neck. Every movement of their hips adds fuel to the fire, every touch and caress and kiss sending sparks and shivers through his body.

"I love how you respond to me," he moans against her skin, "the sounds that you make when I touch you... I need more. I need to hear you moan my name like that again."

Miri hardly feels able to breathe - she can feel the hot tension spooling in her stomach, closer to bursting with every delicious snap of his hips, hitting that perfect spot.

"Ahhhn- Gale please- ah-" The sound of her speech breaking into moans, her voice becoming shaky and fragmented, sends a thrill through him that he can't even put into words. He lets out a low, almost animalistic noise from low in his throat, desperate and pleading.

"Gods, yes, just like that," he whispers, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, "Keep making those sounds for me, Miri. Let me hear how good I make you feel."

Gale loses himself in the feel of her - perfect in every way, soft and pliant and hot beneath him. He can’t hold back anymore, and the sounds she’s making only make it clear she feels good.

She's almost dizzy with the frantic pace he sets - and gods it feels so good. Her back arches up into him and she whines before gasping his name again.

He can feel the pleasure building deep within, the need coiling low and tight and hot within his gut. He runs his hands down her body, his touch growing more and more frantic, desperate to bring her to the edge with him, to make her say his name like a prayer, a plea.

She gasps a high cry when he adds that sharp, bright pleasure, fingers playing her like a virtuoso. Her claws dig at his back with only half a mind to be gentle against his skin. Green eyes roll with sensation and she trembles beneath him.

"Gale!"

The feel of her nails against his skin grounds him, the sharp and stinging pain adding to the pleasure, keeping him at that almost delirious edge, riding on the pleasure. He bites at her neck, his teeth pressing hard enough to leave a mark, desperate and rough and hungry, desperate to make her feel everything, all the pleasure and need and heat thrumming inside him.

"Again, Miri, please! I want to hear you say my name again, I want to hear you say it until your voice is hoarse," he gasps against her skin, his voice thick with need.

"Ahn! Gale!" This time it's a sharp cry, a shout. Plea and prayer both. She feels full of molten heat - a bowstring overdrawn and ready to snap. His bite rips a growl from her - one of untempered pleasure. "Gale!"

His breath hitches at the sound of his name, at the feel of her voice saying his name, the way the words fall from her lips in gasps and moans and pleas. He feels like he's drowning in her, in the heat and in the pleasure, barely holding on to his control.

"Like that, gods, just like that," he growls, his voice thick with heat, raw with the need to make her feel good, to give her more, more and more and more.

Miri's voice is ragged with harsh breaths as she pleads with him. She's unbearably close. So near to that precipice, feeling almost all liquid in his arms as his touch renders her to pure sensation.

His mind is a haze of sensations, of the feel of her, of the sound of her voice and the way she calls out his name, how she makes him feel wanted and needed and like the most important person in the world. His own control is almost slipping, almost reaching his own edge, and he can only hold on tighter, pull her closer, his touch becoming almost frantic as he tries to bring her as much pleasure as he can.

"Say my name, love, gods- say my name again," he begs, his voice strained and tight with the effort to hold himself back.

That touch - delicious and demanding - wrings pleasure from her very bones. Miri gasps out a moan like a howl, her spine arching. As her body starts to tremble and writhe she cries out his name.

There's a feeling like sparks blazing over his skin at the sound of her cry, the raw pleasure in her voice, her body arching and writhing beneath him, and then, before he can think, before he can even catch his breath, he lets himself slip over the edge, riding the wave of pleasure that washes over him in overwhelming spikes. He buries his face into the curve of her neck, his name on her lips the sweetest sound he's ever heard.

She clutches him to her as they float in that nebulous space between dream and reality together. Her head tips back with heaving breaths and soft shivers. She mumbles out soft phrases, praise and adoration, bleary and love drunk.

Gale clings to her, his head buried in the crook of her shoulder, breathing in deep as he tries to come down from that overwhelming wave. Her words, spoken in that soft, dreamy, and love-drunk tone, wash over him like a soothing balm.

He presses a soft, almost lazy kiss to the skin of her neck, too sated and relaxed to do anything else. Her hair is tousled and messy where he ran his hands through it, her neck and shoulders bearing the red marks and indents of his mouth and teeth, and her eyes are still hazy and almost delirious with pleasure. He runs a hand over her jaw, tracing it with his thumb.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice low and soft.

Miri grins back at him, blinking slowly. His own hair is disheveled, down from it’s usual half bun and sticking to him with the sweat of his efforts. But he’s never looked more beautiful.

“Takes one to know one,” she murmurs back with a smirk. Gale snorts and shoves lightly at her.

They laugh together, still a tangled heap of limbs. When they settle, their gazes meet again. Soft, soothing touches exchanged slowly. Uncaring for the time or the mess or the world outside.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Miri muses softly. Her smile is nothing short of radiant, full of a soft affection Gale’s only ever dreamed of until now. And he matches it with one of his own.

“We should have yes,” he returns, “But I am more than happy to make up for lost time.”

Gale pulls her closer, rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him to a chorus of giggles.

“So am I,” Miri agrees softly, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “And then some.”

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part sixteen: "The Time You Saved Daredevil"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Matt is shot trying to help stop an armed bank robbery and you can't get ahold of him. You take it upon yourself to find him and get him home safe.

Or

You discover Matt in a dumpster without his senses and find yourself communicating with him in a strange and stressful version of charades.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: I like symmetry so of course there had to be a hurt/comfort installment where Reader helps out Matt! You can find all of the installments for this series that are on tumblr here.

Pressing the heels of your hands onto your closed eyelids, you slouched over your desk at The Bulletin. There had been a large scale robbery at a bank just a few blocks away in Hell's Kitchen and Ellison had called quite a few staff back in to cover the breaking story for tomorrow’s issue. You had been among them, expected to help pull together information from whatever sources you could.

But you were too busy stressing over the fact that Michael's outside source was telling him that Daredevil had shown up and had been attempting to diffuse the situation at the bank. 

And he was being shot at.

Your nerves had been pushed to their limit for the past twenty-seven minutes, your eyes mostly glued to your phone as you waited for any update from Michael's source or the actual Devil of Hell’s Kitchen himself. You had been unable to focus on anything Ellison wanted accomplished for the duration of the robbery. All you could think about was something happening to Matt. 

"More news!" Michael called out, rising in his cubicle so everyone in the office could see him.

Your hands immediately fell from your face as you sat bolt upright in your chair. Holding your breath, you prayed everything was over and Matt was alright. Prayed that you could sneak to the bathroom and call his burner phone in fifteen minutes and hear his voice telling you he was fine and he'd see you later.

"So the robbers have been finally apprehended by police," Michael continued, the room breaking into applause. "No casualties as far as I'm aware, but one person was injured. My source heard reports that Daredevil was shot, though."

The room felt like it was spinning at this bit of news. You couldn't breathe. Matt had been shot? 

"But he's got that suit, right?" Katy called out beside you, her voice breaking through your panic. "So he's okay, isn't he? Being shot at isn't new for him."

Michael shrugged, turning his attention to Katy. "I mean usually, yeah. But my source was saying Daredevil seemed off. Barely made it out of the building before the cops showed up. Said it looked like he was struggling or something."

You felt sick. You were definitely going to be sick. 

Shaking, you pushed back out of your chair and rose to your feet. Katy shot you a look, concern on her face.

"You okay?" she asked you. "You look pale."

"Fine," you breathed out. "I'm going to–to check with one of my sources on–on something. Can you let Ellison know?"

Katy's brows furrowed as she nodded. You swallowed hard, grabbing your purse off your desk and throwing it over you. 

As you made your way out of the office on trembling legs, your stomach churning and twisting uncomfortably, you tried hard to think of a plan. If Matt wasn't okay, you'd need to go and find him. He probably wouldn't be too far from the bank if he couldn't make it home. 

First thing you needed to do was call Matt's burner phone. If he answered, then there was no need to worry. If he didn't, well, then you'd figure out what the second thing you needed to do was.

You pulled your phone out of your purse, typing in the number Matt had you memorize as you hurried down the few flights of stairs. As you neared the first floor, his burner phone only continued to ring in your ear with no answer. You cursed, hanging up and trying to think of step two. 

If Matt wasn't answering, he either needed help or he was on his way back to his apartment. Not wanting to waste time, and being unable to be in two places at once, you quickly dialed Karen's number. The phone rang twice before she answered. 

"Hey," you said quickly, feeling a little out of breath from running down multiple flights of stairs. "Are you busy?"

"Uh, no?" Karen answered.

"Matt was shot," you told her, continuing over her loud intake of breath. "He was stopping that robbery and one of my co-worker's sources said Daredevil was shot and seemed off. Like he wasn't okay. And he's not answering his burner. I'm going to get spare clothes from my apartment for him and go search around the bank. See if he's hurt somewhere and can't get back. Can you check his apartment? See if he shows up? I'd do it but I can't be in two places at once. I don't want to waste time waiting to see if he shows when he might be bleeding out in an alley."

"Yeah, yeah sure," Karen said in a rush. "I'll be there in less than ten minutes."

"Thank you," you breathed out. "I owe you. Text me if he's there or if he shows up. I'll text if I find him."

You hung up, pushing out of the doors to the building and hailing the first taxi you could find.  Giving them your apartment address, you settled anxiously in the back, chewing your nails and willing your phone to ring with good news.

__________

Your phone hadn't rung with good news.

You'd been searching the alleys in a two block radius around where the bank robbery had taken place for thirty minutes now, practically sprinting around all of the blocks. Karen was waiting back at Matt's apartment in case he showed, but she'd said he hadn't been there. 

The longer you spent looking for him with no answer on his burner phone–the one you were occasionally calling every few minutes hoping you'd at least hear it if he didn't answer–the worse you felt. 

Were you going to find him dead somewhere? 

Nope. No. Not a thought for right now.

Your body was shaking and it had been for awhile now. Your hands clutched nervously to the straps of the backpack on your back as you continued your search. You'd stopped at your apartment only long enough to grab the backpack and one of the shirts and sweatpants Matt had left at your apartment. The ones you occasionally stole to cuddle with while you slept when he didn't stay the night because they smelled like him. Now you needed them in the event you found Matt and he couldn't get himself home as Daredevil, you'd have to find a way to get him home in less conspicuous clothes.

It was when you'd reached one of the last few blocks of the perimeter search around the robbed bank that you heard it. You'd called his burner again and in the distance down a darkened back alley you heard the sound of a phone ringing. 

Instantly you paused at the sound, slowly turning and looking down the alley. It was poorly lit but seemed empty except for a couple of dumpsters. Nervously biting your lip, you ended the call and listened with bated breath. The ringing in the alley stopped also.

"Please don't be a really strange coincidence and someone is actually waiting down there to murder me and throw my body parts in a dumpster," you mumbled to yourself.

Ignoring everything in your body telling you not to wander down a darkened alley just two blocks from a robbed bank at almost eleven at night in Hell's Kitchen, you wandered down the darkened alley. Your eyes swept back and forth as you moved, your hand clutching the pepper spray you'd grabbed for protection in the hand that wasn't holding your phone. When you reached the dead end of the alley, you frowned. You hadn't found Matt lying on the ground anywhere, where was he?

Hesitantly you called his burner phone again, waiting anxiously. The sound of the ringtone came loud and clear just a few feet behind you and you turned, brows furrowed as you tried to decipher where the sound was coming from. And then your eyes landed on a dumpster. Slowly you headed over to it and sure enough the ringing was coming from inside.

Ending the call, you slipped the phone and pepper spray into an outside pocket of the backpack before you cautiously called out to him. "Matt? It's me," you said. When he didn't respond you called out your name, but he still didn't answer.

He's not dead. He's not dead. Maybe he just fell asleep. In a dumpster. Or passed out. But he's not dead.

Carefully you kicked some boxes on the ground towards the dumpster, testing your weight on them. They felt like they would hold so you nervously stepped onto them and grabbed onto the edge of the dumpster, pulling yourself up the best you could. Sure enough you were met with the sight of Daredevil laying on a pile of smelly garbage. He was curled in on himself and didn't seem to be responding to your calling out to him or your presence.

With drastically less upper body strength than Matt had, you pulled yourself up and into the dumpster, gagging at the stench. You were both going to need a shower real bad after this. With Matt's senses, you might need to scrub off the top layer of your skin.

At the feel of the garbage bags shifting, Matt immediately turned towards you and swung a fist. Eyes wide, you ducked down to a particularly smelly garbage bag as you shrieked.

"Matt, it's me!" you called out again. "Don't punch me or we're both screwed!"

He swung at you again and you awkwardly dodged it, your hand landing in something damp causing you to cringe as Matt's body fell over into the garbage on his other side. Fighting back a wave of nausea at whatever you'd gotten on your hand, you wiped it off onto your jeans as you studied Matt. 

He was acting strange. He wasn't responding to you talking to him; instead he was trying to hit you. Laying in a dumpster didn't seem like something he'd be particularly fond of, especially with how much it had to smell to him. He wasn't throwing punches quite that well, either. If Daredevil wanted to hit you he'd have hit you. There was no way you'd ever have been able to dodge his blows, but for some reason he couldn't seem to land one on you.

And more obviously–why would Matt try to punch you?

Were his senses not working right now? Could he not smell the disgusting garbage you were both laying in? Could he not hear you calling out to him? Talking to him? Hear your hearbeat that he'd often told you was a familiar sound, one he could easily pick up on in a crowded room? 

Could he…not sense it was you? 

The realization dawning on you had panic rising in your gut. You'd have to find some way to get him to realize it was you who'd found him, especially if you had any hope of getting him out of that suit and back to his apartment. And if he was already throwing punches for just someone being near him, you couldn't imagine what he'd do if he realized someone was taking his suit off of him.

"Shit," you grumbled. "What the hell will make you realize it's me?"

You sat for a moment, smelling the horrible stench of garbage that was sure to have seeped into your clothes. For a moment you almost ran that dirty hand through your hair, pausing and shooting it a resentful look before you lowered it back to your side. 

Then a thought struck you. Carefully you maneuvered yourself closer to Matt, grateful he'd stopped trying to swing at you for the moment. Using the hand that hadn't gotten something disgusting on it, you very cautiously reached out and ran the tips of your fingers along the bit of stubbled jaw exposed under his helmet. Matt instantly tensed, his body shifting as if he was about to throw another punch, but then he hesitated.

"Come on, Matt," you muttered nervously. "Who else would jump in a dumpster with Daredevil and stroke your jaw after you'd just tried to punch them? It's me. You know it’s me."

Cautiously you continued the movement, watching as his arm slowly lowered. His head shifted around a few times, like he was searching for who was touching him. He said your name quietly, like a question. You smiled, grabbing one of his hands as you continued to stroke his jaw before placing it on your cheek. Slowly, you nodded your head in response, hoping he could understand the movement.

His mouth twitched briefly, his gloved fingers lightly grazing your cheek. He whispered your name again and you nodded again.

“I–I can’t hear,” he whispered, his voice sounding full of fear and a little off. “Can’t get–get back. Everything is off. Shot in the head.” You winced at that. “Helmet protected me but–but everything is off.”

You fought back tears at how terrifying it must be for him right now without sight or sound, along with his senses being dampened. But you couldn’t focus on that right now. Matt needed you. You’d have to find a way to communicate with him so you could get him home and then you’d figure out what to do after that.

Quickly you pulled the backpack off of your back, Matt keeping his gloved hand on your cheek. You figured it was probably comforting to him. As you pulled his spare clothes from the backpack, you were at a point to which you ignored the pile of garbage you were both settled in. Placing the clothes in front of you, you paused, trying to figure out how to get him to understand that you were going to have to change him out of his suit. 

Biting your lip, you grabbed the gloved hand that was on your cheek and lowered it, unclasping the glove and sliding it off. Carefully you placed the soft shirt in his hand, watching as his fingers inspected what he was touching. And then you let him feel the pair of sweatpants you’d grabbed, his hands inspecting the fabric of it carefully next.

“You…need me out of the suit?” he asked, his voice still sounding off since he couldn’t hear himself.

You raised his hand to your cheek, nodding your head again.

“I can’t leave the suit,” he mumbled.

You shook your head, exaggerating the gesture. Then you lowered his hand to the backpack, dragging it along the pouches and zippers. 

“Okay,” he agreed.

You reached out, trying to tug him up by his shoulders. You’d need him out of the dumpster and probably standing to be able to peel him out of the suit. Thank God you’d helped him out of it a few times now and you knew how to open it and get it off of him. But that didn't mean this wasn't going to be difficult.

It took a few tries of you tugging him to get him to realize you wanted him out of the dumpster. And as you struggled to help him out of it, you cursed him quietly for choosing to climb into a dumpster in the first place. Even if it was a good way to hide. 

Eventually you’d both gotten out and you’d managed to maneuver him against the alley wall, but it was incredibly dark and took you a long time trying to find all the hidden buckles, snaps, and zippers in the dark while also keeping an ear out for anyone who might stumble upon the pair of you. And once you'd managed that feat, you were struggling with trying to pull the suit down off of his body. It was practically skin tight, though Matt tried his hardest to assist you the best he could. 

When you finally managed to tug the suit down past his hips and his ass–which was very difficult considering Matt had an ass on him and his suit clung to it about as badly as you'd like to–you'd finally had an easier time tugging the suit down the rest of the way. You sighed in relief when you could fold it up and stuff the suit, billy clubs, his helmet, and gloves into your backpack and zip it up. Then you worked on helping him into his sweatpants, showing him what it was before you knelt down, tapping one leg at a time to get him to lift them and get his feet in them. He slid the pants up the rest of the way himself and you took the moment to shoot Karen a quick text saying you'd found him and were going to bring him to his apartment. 

You helped pull his shirt on afterwards, tugging it down over him and making sure he was fully dressed. Relieved that you'd managed to get him safely out of his Daredevil suit, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his hips, carefully drawing him into a hug. Matt's arms were quick to encircle themselves around you, his face burying itself against the top of your head. The hold he had on you was tight, almost crushing you to his body, and as much as you both probably wanted to continue to seek comfort from the other right now, you knew you needed to get Matt home. Reluctantly you began to release your arms from him, but Matt was a bit slower to follow suit. 

Unfortunately you didn't have shoes for Matt as you glanced down at his feet, but you were contemplating hailing a cab and pretending Matt was drunk. It'd be faster getting him home that way then trying to half carry him while toting the backpack across Hell's Kitchen. 

You grabbed his hand, nervously chewing your lip and hoping he could kind of figure out what you were trying to tell him. You knew he mainly read braille, but you also knew he was able to trace the indentation of words that weren't in braille with his heightened senses, so he should still understand what you were going to trace onto his hand. 

You spelled out C-A-B on his upturned palm before anxiously staring up at his face. His eyes narrowed and you chewed your lip harder. You tried a second time, tracing the same three letters onto his palm again, this time even slower.

"Cab?" he asked. "Taking a cab?"

You placed his hand to your cheek, nodding. 

"My place?" he asked hopefully.

You nodded again, eyeing him carefully. After a moment he nodded in response. With another relieved sigh, you threw the backpack onto your back before wrapping an arm around Matt's waist. He threw his left arm over your shoulders, leaning some of his weight on you. 

It was a struggle getting him down the alley and you'd had to walk about half a block in the direction of his apartment before you found an available cab and flagged it down. You were exhausted by the time you reached it, placing Matt's hand on the door first so he knew what was going on. He nodded and you took that as your cue to open the door and help him in.

The cab driver gave the pair of you strange looks, but once you'd given him the brief explanation that Matt was drunk and blind, not wanting to risk him piecing anything together about the man beside you possibly being the infamous vigilante, he didn't pay either of you any mind. Instead, he focused on driving to the address of Matt's building. 

The entirety of the drive you were holding Matt's hand in the backseat. He, on the other hand, was clutching your hand desperately as if it was the only thing grounding him. And it probably was considering he couldn't see or hear a thing. As the full realization of that hit you, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze, sliding your leg towards his. A moment later his left hand snaked its way over and grabbed onto your leg as he leaned against you, his forehead coming to rest along your shoulder. You couldn't even begin to imagine what he felt right now, and that only made your heart ache further for him.

Thankfully getting him up to his apartment once you'd both gotten to his building wasn't too difficult. You'd easily navigated him through the lobby and into the elevator, riding it up to the sixth floor. Once on his floor, you led him to his apartment where Karen quickly let you inside.

"What happened?" she asked, watching in concern as you led Matt to his living room.

"Said he was shot in the head," you answered, still struggling to carry his weight. "His helmet I guess took the brunt of it but he can't hear. His senses aren't working properly. Found him in a dumpster." 

You placed one of his hands on his leather sofa, watching his face as his hand slowly dragged back and forth across the surface. A look of calm washed over him.

"My couch?" he asked hopefully.

You placed the hand he had enjoined with yours to your cheek as you nodded. Instantly you saw his shoulders droop, his body relaxing a little.

"Jesus," Karen breathed out. 

"Yeah," you said, leading him around the couch. "It wasn't easy getting him out of the dumpster and changing his clothes before trying to hail a cab. Now I'm…not sure what to do."

"Maybe his nurse friend Claire needs to look at him?" Karen suggested. "Or he just needs to do that meditation thing he does?"

You slipped the backpack off and placed it near the coffee table before lowering onto the couch beside him. You grabbed his palm, turning it over and tracing C-L-A-I-R-E onto his hand very slowly. His eyes narrowed for a moment before he spoke.

"Claire?" he asked.

You nodded against his hand. A moment later he shook his head 'no' and you frowned.

"I can–can meditate," he answered.

You nodded against his hand before glancing back at Karen. "Thank you for helping tonight. Keeping an eye out here for him," you told her, Matt shifting beside you to lay on the couch. "I don't want to hold you up all night though. If he's just going to lay here meditating I'll probably just lay here with him. I think having something to ground him has been helpful."

"You sure?" she asked. 

"Yeah," you said, shooting her a tired smile as Matt tugged on your hand, a silent question for you to lay with him. "Thank you though. Seriously," you told her.

"Anytime," she replied, smiling back. "You know Foggy and I are always here for you and Matt. Will you let me know what's going on? If he's okay?"

"Absolutely,"  you assured her, feeling Matt tug your hand again.

As Karen made her way out, you returned your focus to Matt. Carefully you laid down, rolling onto your side and facing him. You both reeked of garbage from your time in the dumpster and you desperately wished you could wash your hands at least, but you were pretty sure Matt wouldn't want you to leave him. So instead you settled in next to him, reeking of who knew what.

"Having you here is helping," Matt murmured to you once you'd stopped squirming beside him. "Just wish I could hear your heart."

An idea struck you a moment later and you reached down for the hand he had resting on your hip, tentatively clasping your hand over it. Swallowing hard, hoping he wasn't thinking you were trying to do anything strange, you slipped both of your hands up under the hem of your shirt, your eyes fixed nervously on his face just beside yours as his brows furrowed. You slid your hands up further, Matt's warm hand gliding up your stomach and passed your bra, your hand pausing with his just over your heart. 

You could feel your own heart racing, waiting for him to react so you knew he knew you weren't trying to have him cop a feel in his vulnerable state. A smile slowly spread across his mouth before his palm pressed itself firmly against your chest. You released the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, relaxing beside him. Your hand slid back out of your shirt, but Matt's remained, feeling your heart beating under his hand as his eyes slowly closed.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Closing your own eyes, you fell into a comfortable drowsy state, only falling into a light doze in case Matt needed you. The warm hand he had over your heart was a comfort to you as well as him after the fear you'd had the majority of the night. While you dozed, Matt dropped into a meditative state beside you; he'd once told you how he used it to heal himself, though you had no idea how it worked. But right now, you were grateful if it did.

__________

You weren't sure how long you both had been lying on the couch before you felt Matt no longer motionless beside you. His shifting woke you from your light sleep and your eyes opened, taking in his expression. His brows were knitted together and his nose was scrunched up, his eyes opening slowly. Your heart jumped in your chest, worried something was wrong or that he was in pain. 

"We smell terrible," he announced. 

A laugh burst forth out of you, loud and unforgiving. A massive smile instantly spread over Matt's face, his eyes crinkling at the corners and the lone dimple on his right cheek making an appearance. You knew everything was alright when you saw that damn dimple.

"I don't think I could think of a better sound to have my hearing come back for," he said.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, your laugh trailing off. "I found you in a dumpster," you told him, unable to stop the smile on your face. "I'm pretty sure I got something disgusting on my left hand, I have no idea what. I didn't want to leave you so I haven't had a chance to even just wash my hands. But are you…feeling okay? Do I need to call Claire? Take you to a hospital?"

"Everything isn't fully back yet," he told you. "But I can hear a little more now. This happened once before. In a bit everything should come back fully." His eyes dropped down near where your hand was and he grimaced before grinning. "You definitely don't want to know what's on your hand."

"Oh my God, really?" you asked, eyes widening as you looked down at your hand in horror.

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing the skin of your chest where his hand still rested above your heart. "Yes, really."

"Okay, do you mind if I go scrub my hands a million times now?" you asked.

He shook his head, grinning wide. "No. Honestly we probably both could use a shower. Though I'm not sure I could quite navigate one right now."

"Is this your way of getting me naked in your shower with you?" you teased. 

"Sweetheart, I'm pretty sure I couldn't navigate that right now, either," he answered with a sheepish grin. "Which is a shame, because this isn't exactly how I pictured showering with you for the first time."

"Alright, well," you said, sitting up as Matt reluctantly removed his hand from inside of your shirt, "let's go get the mystery substances washed off of ourselves."

"They're not a mystery to me, unfortunately," Matt murmured with a cringe. 

Your nose scrunched up at his words. "I don't even want to know," you said, helping him up off of his couch. "You're probably going to want to clean your couch. And toss your clothes."

You led him carefully down the hall to his bathroom, pointing out obstacles and where to turn since his senses weren't fully back yet. Flipping on the light in the bathroom, you felt Matt's hand grab your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Thank you," he whispered, face serious when you looked back at him. "For coming to find me. Bringing the clothes and getting the suit back like you did. For–for staying with me. It…means more than you could know."

A soft smile slid across your mouth, your hand reaching down to cover his over your wrist. "It was worth it, knowing you're okay. I can't imagine how that must've felt losing almost all of your senses and being alone," you said.

"It…was not pleasant," he admitted. 

"I'm going to get the shower warming up," you told him. "So we can stop smelling like trash and I can stop wondering what is on my hand."

He released your wrist and you turned, pulling back the glass door and switching the water on. As you turned back around, you saw he was already tugging the shirt over his head, revealing his very defined abdominal muscles. Your heart sped up despite the situation you were currently in, your gaze lingering on his body. 

"Don't get too excited," Matt teased, his voice drawing you back and causing you to blush in embarrassment. "I told you I can't manage that right now. Though the moment I can–" he said, shooting you a cheeky smile, "–I'll give you a proper thanks for saving me."

Breathing harder, your eyes darted away, biting your lip in wonder about what a proper thanks would entail. Matt laughed lightly, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Been a few months and your heart still races when I say things like that," he said. "And I hope it always does."

"Knowing me," you said, nervously slipping out of your own shirt in front of him, "it probably will."

[not-a-space-alien]

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Chapter 2

Story Masterpost

Chapter 2 of this fic! In this chapter: We join our heroes Karlach and Wyll in Avernus, who stumble across something that has troubling implications for their friend...

If you'd like to be tagged when new chapters come out, leave a comment or message me to say so and I'll put you on the taglist, Or subscribe over on AO3 （owo) 👉 AO3

Chapter 2 has no warnings.

***

Things had been okay with Wyll around.

Karlach never wanted to be in Avernus again, but it was somehow bearable this time.  It was the sense of progress, probably.  She wasn’t stuck here with no hope, no end in sight, no purpose she actually cared about.  She had Wyll, and she had some freedom, and it didn’t feel like it was going to be forever and ever with no hope at all. She could even leave, sometimes, for a little bit, because Wyll knew how to get in and out.  An old trick Mizora had shown him, for his job for her.  He would open a portal, and Karlach could have a good few minutes before her engine started to overheat and she had to go back down.

Things were bearable.  She could make her own decisions.  She wasn’t alone.  She could kill whatever bastards she wanted, and doing so had eventually given them those blueprints that had her all excited.

She kept them clutched to her chest and rolled around on her bedroll, trying not to disturb Wyll’s rest with her excitement.  The forge was well-guarded, but they were going to get to it or die trying.  And then her engine would be fixed, and she could stay upstairs with the grass and sunshine and friends for the rest of her life. 

“Hey, Wyll,” she said, like a girl up late at a sleepover.

Wyll stirred tiredly, eyes half-lidded.  “What is it?”

Karlach stared up at the burnt rock above them, the ceiling of their temporary resting place.  Wyll was good at finding those kinds of spots to hide out in down here.  “I can’t wait to see the others again.  It’s been too long.  It’s been what, five months?  Do you think they’re okay?  I think about Astarion a lot.  I told him I’d help him, and I never got the chance to.  It feels awful.”

Wyll half sat-up, rubbing his eyes.  “I feel in a bad way about it too.  But as much as I understand the instinct, you can’t help everyone right away, as noble as it is to want to.”

“Yeah, but- but, Astarion isn’t everyone.  He’s my friend.  Well, he was… I don’t know if he still would be.  He’s probably proper pissed at us, I bet.”

“It’s not like we had much choice.  You were disintegrating on that dock.  And when the others and I looked for him, he didn’t want to be found.  We did what we could.  You won’t accomplish anything by feeling guilty about it.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Stow your troubled thoughts, my friend.  I’m haunted by the thoughts of the people I couldn’t help, too.  I understand better than most.  But iIt won’t bring you any more rest, and we need to be in top shape if we’re to reach the forge tomorrow.”

Karlach rolled over, still hugging the blueprints, dreaming about being back in the sunshine and green grass with the group of people she loved the most in the world.

The morning brought another day, more killing demons and more thrilling fights and she liked the thrill of the fight, she really did, but all she could think about was how impatient she was to get to the forge.  Every imp felt like an extra-annoying roadblock between her and happiness. 

“I’m suspicious,” Wyll said, wiping his rapier and sheathing it.  “I expected a lot more of Zariel’s forces to be guarding this place.”

It had been plenty, to Karlach.  “I won’t complain about having to fight through fewer goons.  Let’s go already!  I can almost smell the flowers again.”

“I’m just cautious because it could be a trap.”

“Trap, schrap.  Come on!  The forge is just behind this door!”  Karlach turned the knob.  Found it locked.  Missed Astarion again, this time for more practical reasons.  A few swings of her greataxe was a fine substitute for a lockpick.  The wood splintered and fell into the small room behind, where-

“Oh,” Karlach said, with the air of a kid discovering no presents under the tree at Christmas.  “I guess that explains it.  Weren’t many guards because this isn’t where the forge is after all.”

“We’ll find it, Karlach, don’t worry.  We just got some bad intel.  Only a setback.”  Wyll cautiously stepped into the room.  “What is in here, though?”

“Could be something useful,” Karlach said.  “If Zariel doesn’t want us to have it, then I want it.”  She strode in, poking at various things around the room–mostly jewelry, clothes, probably enchanted stuff.  It would take a while to figure out what they did.  Probably nothing groundbreaking, but useful nonetheless, if Zariel was hoarding it.  

Karlach rifled through the valuables.  “Looks like it might be some random magic stuff.  Could be some useful gear.  Hmm.”  She pulled a treasure chest out and once again wished Astarion was here to pick the lock.

After a minute of banging on it with her ax, Wyll convinced her to let him lockpick it.  He wasn’t as good at it as Astarion was, but he managed to get it open, to reveal even more enchanted items.  “These gauntlets could be useful.”

“Yeah!  And these boots seem super magical.  I bet they’d look good on you.  Wait!  Is that-”  She reached in and shoved some things to the side.  “Ooh!  A soul coin!  Yes!”  She flipped the heavy metal coin.  “I can’t wait to kick Zariel’s ass using her own soul coin.  Hey, this one looks different than the ones we’ve seen before.”

She held it up to the light to examine the symbols and writing on it.  “This looks vaguely familiar… The writing says No. 3,289 of 7,000.  Never seen that before.  Is this a limited edition or something?”

Wyll came over, cocking his head at it.  “Odd.  It does look familiar.  Where have I seen it before?”  The coin was inlaid with a wrought iron design, in the flowy shape of several rats swirling around each other with tails entangled to make a rat king.

“Yeah…” Karlach said, furrowing her brow.  “Don’t know what it could be.”

Wyll snapped his fingers.  “This symbol decorates parts of Cazador Szarr’s palace.  I’ve seen it on occasion at Baldurian high society events, growing up.”

“Oh, yeah!  Oh, did we find some of Cazador’s hidden treasure?  I bet Fangs will be happy about stealing from him!”

Wyll did not seem as excited.  “Why would there be a soul coin with Cazador’s symbol on it here in the Hells?”

“Dunno,” Karlach said.  “Fuck ‘em though, I say.  I’ll use his soul coin.”  She pocketed the coin.

Wyll furrowed his brow, thinking.  “The Rite of Profane Ascension that Cazador was going to carry out.  That was a deal with Mephistopheles, wasn’t it?”

“Huh?  Yeah, I think so.  You think Cazador paid for it in soul coins?  It’d make sense.  It’s what devils use to barter.”

Wyll stood rooted to the spot in horror, making the connection faster than Karlach.  “He was to pay in souls.  The souls of his spawn.”

Karlach furrowed her brow.  “No, but–No, Astarion said there were only seven spawn.  Not seven thousand.”

“It must be, though, mustn’t it?  Why else would there be soul coins circulating in the Hells with Cazador’s symbol on them?”

Karlach inhaled sharply.  Stood.  Ran her fingers through her hair.  Took the coin back out and fumbled with it.

“The souls sacrificed must have been minted into soul coins as payment,” Wyll said softly.  

“They were going to be sacrificed after he performed the ritual, though,” Karlach said, slipping into desperation.  “Right?  The souls wouldn’t have been minted into soul coins until after the ritual.”

Wykk stood, laced his fingers behind his head, and faced the wall, sucking in heavy breaths.  “It would seem so,” he said, full of dread.

“What does that….Oh.”

“He must've already completed the ritual,” Wyll said.  Suddenly the thoughts of people I couldn’t help were less haunting and more sitting directly on his chest with all their weight.  “We’re too late.  He sacrificed all his spawn and sent them directly to the hells.”

Karlach fidgeted with increasing distress.  “But– but that would mean we were too late to help Astarion.  He would have– we can’t be too late to help him!”

Wyll was looking at the coin thinking very hard, eyes misty.  

“No!” Karlach growled.  “No, that can’t be right.  We must be misunderstanding, or–or something.  Because if we were too late, and Astarion was sacrificed, and his- his soul was put into a soul coin or something…”  Barely holding back tears, Karlach clutched the coin to her chest.  “Are you saying Astarion is in here?”

“Or one of the other seven thousand,” Wyll said grimly.

“No,” Karlach said hyperventilating.  “No, no, it can’t be true!”  Her engine whirred faster, her chest heaving with glowing heat.  “I would never let anyone do that to my friend!”

“Karlach!”

Karlach kicked the chest across the room, rattling all the treasure inside.  “We need to hurry up and reach the forge so we can get back up to the surface and help Astarion.  We can’t waste any more time.”

She stormed out.  Wyll hesitantly stared after her for a moment, before he picked up the chest of magical items and dragged it out to follow her.

***

Wyll found her weeping uncontrollably back at their hideaway, tucked away in a hidden corner in some crevice.  He decided to give her some space.  His arms ached from carrying the heavy chest anyway, and he needed a rest.

Karlach’s eyes were red and puffy when she found him later.  She sat down, hugging her knees to her chest.  “So if Astarion’s soul is in one of those coins, how would we help him?”

Wyll barely held himself back from the obvious answer of You don’t help soul coins. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything so damning directly.  “What do we do with any of the coins we find, Karlach?”

“I’m not going to burn up Astarion’s soul to fuel my engine, Wyll!  That is not happening!  Why would you even suggest that?”

“I’m not suggesting it.  Merely pointing out the reality.  Very few people get soul coins for the purpose of undoing the process of trapping the soul in there.  There might not be a way to help them.”

“But-  but-”  The tears did come now, pattering down onto the coin cradled gently in her hand.  “But if he’s in there we can’t just leave him.”

“Indeed.”  Wyll curled up next to her, head on her shoulder, their horns intertwining.  “We would need someone very skilled in magic to figure out what was possible.”

“Yeah…” Karlach said.

“An archmage, even.” 

“...I think I know who can help us.”

***

Taglist @whumpsday

[bt-tarot]

Hi. It’s TXT’s 6th year now can you read about their contract negotiations and possible outcomes?

If you don’t mind I have more specific questions too but a general reading would be ok too as I asked first.

1. What do bighit and hybe offers to txt and or expects them?

2. What do members expect from bighit or hybe?

3. Do members seem like they will renew their contracts? Or will all or some of them leave and only renew the group contracts? Or something else (completely leaving or doing what The Boyz did and get the group rights from the company and continue as tomorrow x together somewhere else)?

I kinda count this as legal procedure since it talks about contracts, negotiations and things that are still on the go, and I don't answer that kind of questions ;; but I will read about their current energy about a renewal and how things are going right now.

My spirit guides gave permission to post this with their names, but I feel a little uneasy so take it with a grain of salt please.

Soobin - VIII of Swords: He feels trapped, it’s like even if all of them were ready to leave and start in another company, they won’t be the same anymore (maybe he fears they can't keep the names, the songs and other things they already work a lot for) and the process would be super long and it’s not worthy. He also feels that he has a huge responsibility and he's really struggling to see what would be the best course of action. He wants to keep going, but the way he sees it, he doesn't know if that would be beneficial for the group.

Yeojun - Ace of Cups: He likes the idea, this might be like a new start for him. He feels called to it. He might think that this will give him more creative freedom, that things will change and they could be more involved in the decisions and give more ideas. In a general sense, he has a good feeling about a contract renewal.

Beomgyu - VII of Wands: He wants to keep going but he’s putting boundaries and he’s ready to fight for them. I think he would put conditions and would speak up about the things he doesn't like to get to a favorable conclusion (for him, he knows the company will gain anyways). If those things aren't clear, he would rethink his decision.

Taehyun - Two of Cups Rev.: He feels tension and is indecisive. He will take the decision that is best for the group, but he's taking he time to see them, to talk, to mediate and look at the bigger picture. I think if they're going through a tough period, he's feeling/noticing it the most and it takes a toll on him emotionally.

Huening Kai - IX of Pentacles Rev.: He would like to keep going because he doesn't feel like things are done. He feels like the group (and him individually) should’ve accomplished more because of the years he’s been working but he doesn’t see that materialized. His idea of success doesn’t match his reality and he wants to believe that, if he stays, that would change with time.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Thank you for asking!🦇♡

[greyplainsttrpg]

More Greypains Campaigning Insight

Hello. My last post actually talking about Greyplains got more notes than I expected, so I will make another post about a current situation developing in the Greyplains TTRPG Discord Play-By-Post adventure which is relevant to talk about.

The situation is that they are in a tide-pool cave hunting eldritch dream-monsters. It seems that the monsters have domesticated Oozes (the larger family of Slimes, Blobs, and Cubes), and that their residue is mildly luminescent (and oily). Investigating the cave, they found a narrow passage that one character can crawl through. At the end of this passage, there is a large blob-slime that is encased around a treasure chest. Based on an earlier Arcana (Monstrology) check, the party knows that there are a few ways to handle Oozes. Each method has pros and cons in the situation.

Incinerate: Causes magically toxic gas to aerosolize and likely kill everyone who breathes it.

Freeze: Takes a lot of "cold energy" to accomplish. If successful, there is now a giant block of thick ice between the character and the treasure chest, and there is not a great way to generate the amount of force to break it apart from the chest.

Electrify: Destabilizes the electroconductivity of the Ooze from a semi-solid blob to a liquid. Now there is magically corrosive liquid spreading around where the Ooze used to be.

The player decides to go ahead and shock it. They get pulled back with a rope they were holding and narrowly avoid cracking their skull on the way out of the tunnel.

Now, there is about 500L of corrosive Ooze fluid sitting on the top of a pool that the party needs to enter later on. In the "unofficial channel," one of the players asks, "Would it eat through my bucket too quickly for it to be of any use?"

In Greyplains, Luck (specifically Luck->Chance->Subskill) is an important mechanic which exists to answer these sorts of questions. Players can choose to invest into Luck to make these kinds of questions result in a more favorable universe for their Character. In this case, the Player is asking whether or not the material of the inventory item, "Bucket" happens to be made of a material that is resistant to the corrosive. However, neither the player nor the Character knows what that would be. As a result, if they were to roll their Chance (Object) Check now, the challenge would be much higher than if they found out about a specific material that resists the corrosive that their bucket could be made out of. So the ideal question is not "what are the odds I happen to have the perfect bucket," but rather "is my bucket made out of X." Of course, they will need to play the game to find out what X is, and there are clues to determine what kinds of materials would resist the Ooze puddle.

Now, you might say that, technically speaking, I'm getting this backwards. Strictly, there are more things than X that resist Oozes, so mathematically it would be more likely for the bucket to be made of anything that resists it INCLUDING X as X is part of the category of things that resists the Ooze. While mathematically true, that is not how "wishes" work in fiction. All "wish"-like mechanics should be treated as a monkey's paw. The more specific the ask, the less likely for things to go terribly wrong. It's the difference between "I wish for a good night's sleep" and "I wish to personally have a good night's sleep that I wake up from tomorrow perfectly safe, healthy, and where I expect to be." The more bounded a wish is, the more likely that it will go off without major failure. While the less specific request could imagenably go wrong in all sorts of ways. Greyplains allows for this to be determined probabilistically based on the Player's choices in Character Creation vs. a Challenge number (which is itself variable, don't worry about it) set by the GM. The "going wrong" in the case of the bucket is "no, it's made of wood" to be a far more likely outcome if they ask the less bounded question. As the GM, encouraging my players to learn about what materials resist the Ooze is fun, compelling gameplay as the players pilot their characters to adventure and test various materials.

As a side note, the relationship between the quantuum and the narrative is why I argue that Greyplains in not really a "simulationist game" despite being interested in reality, physics, etc. The point is still the narrative, the universe is flexible to the Player's discretion.

I feel like a lot of GMs in most other systems would find this sort of gameplay frustrating and/or not supported with the system. However, in Greyplains, this kind of goofy magical physics v. contrived reality shenanigans IS the intended gameplay.

More importantly, by the player specifically withholding asking the question formally in the "official" channel, where actions and requests are burned into the reality of the fiction, they give themselves the opportunity to solve problems as the natural consequence of gameplay.

This really gets at the heart of why I like my own systems (and why I built them in the first place). It has a set of checks and balances built into the mechanics to engage with the fundamentally quantuum nature of a TTRPG session/world. Imagine this situation as a courtroom. The player is the prosecution arguing their case. They can get a better charge if they wait to bring the case to trial once they have more evidence. The GM is the judge and determines whether the arguments themselves make sense and that the evidence they bring to court are valid and in order. The Challenge works as the Defense, the barrier to clear in the case for the charges to stick. The dice (or the Character's Proficiency) is the jury. Ultimately, they decide whether the case of "is my bucket immune to Ooze corrosion" goes through with the conviction of "You wouldn't believe it, but yes." This isn't a perfect analogy because the GM does also determine the Challenge number and can give the Player Advantage/Disadvantage based on the context, but the book provides guidelines for how to set the Challenge and dole Advantage/Disadvantage based in the context of fair and reasonable probability.

Compare that to a story I got the other day from a player in a Numenera adventure. The situation was "door is locked." The solution was "my character is a werewolf, so I turned into a werewolf and broke down the door." I'm not saying that this is bad. I am saying that engaging with material science over the exact constitution of a bucket is more interesting to me, and I think to my players, than "push werewolf button and break down door."

[metallicaislife]

Long Day

A/N: Other than the 80's I am not as familiar with the eras, so I hope this the correct era in the gif 🥲 hope this turned out good!

Requested by: Anon

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 834

Warnings: none, the hurt comes from your own feelings and Kirk comforts you :')

It was one of those days. I counted down the time until I could clock out and go home. But of course the time dragged on as if I was running through molasses. If anything could go wrong, it went wrong. Between phone calls, emails and coworkers interrupting me anytime I got into a grove of my usual work load, I definitely wasn't going to finish everything meaning this shitty day would bleed into tomorrow making it not only a current problem, but it would be future Y/N’s problem too. 

All that to say I was overwhelmed and in tears by the time I clocked out. As always I called my boyfriend from the car on my drive home. 

“Hey baby.” He answered. 

“Hi, Kirk.” I said, attempting to keep my voice even, but I could hear the shakiness as I spoke the two words.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, worry was evident in his voice. 

“Um… yeah everything is fine.” I replied. 

“I don’t believe you… Just get home safe and you can tell me all about it.” His voice was so comforting. I knew a warm hug awaited me and it made more tears fall. 

“Okay.” I croaked, then hung up. 

I safely pulled into the driveway of the house Kirk and I had been living in for about a year now. I grabbed my bag and made my way inside. I slipped off my shoes, and hung my bag. Kirk came around the corner and fresh tears fell as he pulled me into a warm embrace. He cradled my head and rubbed my back. After I composed myself I pulled away. He used his thumbs to wipe at the tear stains on my cheeks. 

“So everything is fine, huh?” He teased with a small smile. 

“No… I mean, I’m just overwhelmed. It was one of those days ya know.” I said. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked. Kirk was always so kind, and respected my boundaries,  he would give me space when I needed to mull over things before confiding in him. 

“Yeah, can we just snuggle and order some take out?” I asked. 

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” He smiled at me, I smiled softly for the first time that day since leaving for work in the morning. 

I changed into something more comfortable and crawled into bed with Kirk. We faced each other, legs intertwined as he drew soft shapes on my face. 

“What happened today?” He asked softly. 

“We were super busy, so I got behind on my normal workload, which will affect tomorrow since I’ll need to catch up and hope we don’t get lots of calls or emails to the front desk. I just hate getting behind on things. I know my bosses are aware of how hard I work but with days like these I feel inadequate, like I could’ve done more to accomplish everything.” I relayed my day as a fresh set of tears formed, “I feel like I have imposter syndrome, that they’ll realize I’m not an asset to the company and they’ll just get rid of me.” 

“Hey, hey. No, none of that. I mean your feelings are valid, and you’re allowed to feel those things, but please don’t dwell on them.” He started as he traced up and down my spine, “you work so hard, and you couldn’t have known that you would get an influx of the other things outside your usual workload. If your bosses don’t see all the hard work you do, that’s on them. You can’t control that, even though we all wish we could control how others view us. You gave it your all today and accomplished what you could given the circumstances. You’re not a robot and nobody should expect you to be able to control all these outside forces just so you can finish your whole work load in the allotted 9 to 5 hours. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, you did a great job.” He finished his little speech with sweet praise. I moved closer burying my face in his chest. 

“Thank you.” I said, though it was muffled. He nuzzled his head into mine. 

“Any time, baby. Whenever you feel that way, I’ll be here to remind you that you’re doing your best and absolutely killing it.” He replied. We stayed in the embrace until my tummy gurgled indicating I was hungry. 

“Let’s get you fed, then we can snuggle some more, maybe put a movie on. How does that sound?” He asked, pulling back enough so he could look down at me. 

“That sounds perfect.” I replied with a genuine smile. 

He kissed my forehead and left me in bed as he went to call in our regular take out order. 

I’ll always be grateful for my sweet Kirk who is always willing to help bring me back down to reality when my head gets away from me with the negative thoughts.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

[quibbs126]

I don’t want to die

I’m not at risk of it at the moment or anything, I’m as fine as ever and not in any danger. Only thing that might be a potential factor is my extremely unhealthy diet of junk food, fast food and ice cream, but I mean, I can change that; at this rate, I probably will sometime soon because I’m really noticing it

It’s just that the thought of death came back in my mind and it won’t let me sleep. It comes to mind on occasion and I hate when it does

Nothing terrifies me more than death. Like I may have a very low opinion of myself and think people are better off not interacting with me, and I really wouldn’t be surprised if I have depression, but I will never reach the point of wanting death because that is the thing that scares me most of all

Because I don’t know what happens when I die. And what scares me most is that there’s nothing after it, I will simply cease to be, for the rest of existence

I really want to believe that this isn’t the case. The form I personally really want to believe is real is reincarnation, with the idea I can live life over and over again, even if I won’t remember this one. At least I’ll exist and be able to experience life. But I have no concrete proof that this is the truth, or that there is any afterlife. I don’t have anything to tell me that nothingness isn’t what comes after, and that scares me

And what’s worse, I don’t know when I’ll die. Ideally, I live a long life. But anything can happen, death is random. I could die at any time, not expecting it at all. I could drop dead tomorrow for all I know, from some freak accident. But I don’t want to die

I think this fear of death is why I’m generally such a coward, and it probably extends to me being generally a pushover and people pleaser. I fear death, and thus I fear danger. It’s why I don’t like heights or deep water or rickety things I have to stand on, because something could go wrong and I die. But then that definition of “danger” broadens to outside the realm of things that could kill me, and it makes me not want to step outside of my bubble ever, leaving me very socially isolated and stuck in my room as much as possible. I don’t know, I’m not sure how to articulate my logic here all that well

But outside of the fear of what comes after, another reason I don’t want to die, at least not now, is because I know that at this point if I do, there will be nothing to remember me by. I haven’t achieved anything important in my life. Sure, my family and close friends would mourn me, but I will never eternally be remembered. The sound of my voice will be lost to time, my face will be forgotten. I know it’s probably selfish and egotistical to want this, to want to have something the world will remember me by, to make myself leave a permanent impact on the world, but it’s what I want. I don’t want to be forgotten in a few decades because I never did anything important

But I don’t know when the day I’ll have that everlasting contribution to the world will come. I still haven’t accomplished anything, and I’m still stuck in the mindset I’ll make my mark on the world one day and I just have to wait for then, and thus not actually working towards it. But I’m 21, I’ll have time to figure this out and do it one day

That’s one of the things that keeps me going, that one day I’ll do something important, that I’ll leave my mark on the world that can never be taken away, even long after I die

But if I die in a random accident within the next few years or so, long before my life should realistically be over, then it will all be for nothing. There was no point to my life, to all the time I put into meaningless things that in the moment brought me joy, but overall didn’t contribute to anything. It would be all for nothing

So I want to stay safe. And I don’t want to die

Sorry, I know this is all probably a lot more intense than my normal stuff and probably way too personal, especially for a random tumblr blog. It’s just that the thought of it was keeping me up and absolutely terrifying me, and I thought writing it all down, and actually sharing it with some facet of the world would help me get it out of my system

I’m perfectly fine, these are thoughts that pop into my head on occasion. It’s just that normally it’s earlier in the day so I have an easier way to distract myself from these sorts of thoughts, and it’s not while I’m in bed trying to sleep. Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing to be concerned over. These are normal thoughts for me, and this brand of thought doesn’t happen that often anyways. And if it does, I just try to find ways to get it out of my head

I want to say it’s out of my system now, but I’m not sure. I may post random other Transformers thoughts to clear it even more. That’s how you fall asleep, to the thought of interpersonal fictional character drama (said lightheartedly, but legit that’s what I do in bed at night. It’s just that right now, the drama is between gay robot aliens. The plots tend to repeat but oh well)

[crisalidaseason]

Fourteenth entry: Be a supportive accomplice.

If you shadow someone like Violet, understand that whatever slightly criminal idea they come up with may be beneficial to a whole lot of people. Sometimes, being a bodyguard is also about encouraging your friend to be their true menacing self.

****

Liam had always been a little too competitive. Playing card games, sparring, even during arguing or simple opinionated conversations. He liked winning a little too much but always strived not to be an asshole about it…but in that moment he could not hold the euphoria or the gloating back.

“We won!” Liam screamed without even thinking as he left the mat.

Liam let go of his opponent and immediately sprinted to his squad, who were cheering louder than it would be considered polite. He opened his arms, engulfing Violet and Rhiannon in a hug, feeling as Ridoc and Sawyer embraced him tightly and jumped uncontrollably. Even Imogen had perched herself on his back, screaming right by his ears. Liam giggled at the chaos, cheering just as loudly in return.

“Your winner!” Emetterio’s voice was enough to calm his squad’s noise “Liam Mairi from Second Squad, Flame Section, Fourth Wing!”

Unfortunately, for all the losing squads around and Emetterio’s sanity, Sawyer and Ridoc screamed like lunatics. Liam could not care less about the chaos, there was nothing better than bringing a victory to his squad.

“I know you were all expecting the last portion of the Squad Battle to happen tomorrow, but the cadre and I have a surprise” Commander Panchek said, gathering everyone’s attention.

Liam untangled himself from the mess of limbs embracing him and all of them walked away from the edge of the mat, joining the rest of their squad. Emery and Quinn gave him a smile and even Nadine expressed her congratulations.

“Instead of telling you what the final, unknown task will be and giving you tonight to plan for it, your final task will begin this hour!”

Liam groaned. He hated how fast that quadrant ruined things, he really wanted to celebrate that night.

“Tonight?” Ridoc inquired beside Liam.

“Dain isn’t here. Neither is Cianna” Violet complemented.

Liam scanned the room, noticing all the leadership cadets were gone. What the fuck were they planning this time.

“Oh shit” Imogen shared the same annoyance.

“As you may have noticed, your squad leaders and their executive officers have been…shall we say, sequestered with your section leaders and wingleaders, and no, before someone asks, your task is not to find them. You are to break into your squads and accomplish a unique mission this evening without the leadership and instruction of your squad leaders” Panchek was beaming at the idea.

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of having squad leaders?” a rider on the side commented.

“The purpose of a squad leader is to form a tightly knit unit that can carry on with a mission after their demise. Consider your leaders…demised. You’re on your own, riders. Your mission is simple: find and acquire, by any means necessary, the one thing that would be most advantageous to our enemies regarding the war effort. Leadership will serve as unbiased judges, and the winning squad will be awarded sixty points”

Sixty points. His entire squad gasped and tensed at the information.

“That’s enough to put us into first!” Rhiannon murmured beside Liam “We could win the glory of going to the front!”

Liam was just as euphoric at the possibility, they were fucking close.

“What are the boundaries?” another rider asked.

“Anything within the walls of Basgiath” Panchek informed “And don’t you dare let me see you trying to haul a dragon back here. They’ll incinerate you out of sheer annoyance”

Liam observed as a few people clearly deflated and his eyes immediately set on Ridoc, who had a glazed look. He nudged his squadmate in reprimand for what could be the stupidest idea Ridoc had ever conjured.

“You have three hours, at which time we’ll expect you to present your stolen treasures in the Battle Brief room”

Silence reigned the gym, all squads looking at their commandant expectantly.

“What are you waiting for?” Panchek said “Go!”

The gym resembled a market in the middle of a sunday morning, people scurrying around and everyone talking at the same time.

“Second Squad!” Imogen called loudly, her confident voice carrying beyond the cacophony “follow me”

They soon left the gym, taking the familiar path to the weight room. The cooler air was a relief on Liam’s heated skin. Fuck. He really wanted a shower - fucking Panchek.

“You did great” Violet complimented, walking beside him.

“It was epic” Ridoc commented, giving Liam a full waterskin.

Liam welcomed the refreshing water eagerly, barely containing his smile at the recent victory. Once they were all sitting on the benches of the weight room and the door was warded shut, they began discussing.

“First thing. Who wants to be in command?” Imogen inquired.

Liam snorted as Ridoc’s hand shot up and Rhiannon immediately stopped him “No. You’ll turn this into some kind of prank”

He liked Ridoc, but leadership was not his strongest suit. Liam voted for Rhiannon or Imogen. Those two knew how to handle people well - even if Imogen had a tendency for occasional death threats.

“Liam?” Quinn asked.

“No” he replied without hesitation.

He looked at Violet slightly and cursed internally when she narrowed her eyes at him in wonder.

“No one is going to try and off me while we’re out tonight” she countered.

Liam was not about to risk it, that entire shit with Barlowe spiked his - and Xaden’s - blood pressure for life. He would love to perform a leading role one day, but he was not in a hurry. With a shared look with Imogen, they settled that matter.

“You keep command” Rhiannon suggested to Imogen “You’ve gotten us this far”

Their entire squad expressed their agreement, which made Liam think about how odd things could be. Who could have guessed that people would trust a marked one with leading an important mission. Even Nadine - someone who was very vocal against his people - seemed to recognize there was more to Imogen than a rebellion relic.

“Good. We have a little less than three hours. What are your ideas?” Imogen began.

Oh, Liam knew exactly what to do and he also knew who would make them win this shit.

“What about a piece of weaponry? A cross-bolt would be deadly to any of our dragons in the hands of our enemies” Ridoc offered.

“Too big,” Quinn replied “There’s only one in the museum, and honestly, it’s not even the bolt that’s deadly, it’s the launching system”

“Next?” Imogen sent Liam an expectant look.

“We could steal Panchek’s underw—” Rhiannon shut Ridoc’s suggestion “And that’s why we don’t let you lead”

Liam tried not to laugh at Imogen’s left eye twitching in frustration. Honestly, any other day he would probably help Ridoc to steal said underwear.

“Come on, guys! Think! What’s the most useful thing to our enemy?” Imogen huffed.

Time to keep his friend’s hands from strangling everyone in that room

“Information” Liam sent Violet a pointed look “Violet, what about stealing the news missives from the Archives? The ones that come in from the front?”

And also cause fucking chaos. Liam was thirsty for chaos.

“It’s after seven” her voice is disappointed “the Archives are locked, and it’s the kind of vault that even wielding isn’t going to touch. The whole room is sealed up airtight in case of fire”

Fuck.

“Damn.” Imogen deflated “That was a good one”

Liam sighed, listening half-heartedly to other suggestions. He looked at Violet, noticing her eyebrows frowning in a way that reminded him of their first ever interaction. The creepy calculating eyes. She shook her head as if disregarding an idea and he was sure that whatever popped into her head was going to be epic. Liam caught Imogen’s attention, pointing discreetly at Violet.

“What are you thinking, Sorrengail?” she interrupted the discussions “I can see the little gears turning in your mind”

Everyone looked at her expectantly. Rhiannon, Ridoc and Sawyer - and Liam himself - practically falling from the bench due to anticipation.

“It’s probably nothing” Violet shrugged.

“Get up here and work it out in your head” Imogen insisted, her eyes narrowing.

“Seriously, it’s mad. Like, undoable. We’d get thrown in the brig if we’re caught” Violet mumbled.

Even. Fucking. Better. Liam was giddy thinking about it! It would probably beat the chaos that stealing Panchek’s underwear could cause.

“Get. Up. Here. And. Work. It. Out” Imogen ordered.

Liam brushed his arms against Violet’s, encouraging her to stand up and speak her mind.

“We can wield, right?”

“By all means necessary,” Heaton nodded.

Liam smiled as Violet spiraled into her thoughts, the tell tale of her repetitive movements giving away her plotting.

“All right. I know Ridoc can wield ice, Rhiannon can retrieve, Sawyer can manipulate metal, Imogen can mind-wipe recent memories—”

“And I’m fast”

“Heaton, what about you?” Violet asked the third year.

“I can breathe underwater”

Their entire squad - apart from Emery - blink in surprise. What an odd signet, though Liam would have sold his favorite knife to have that kind of signet when he was younger.

“Awesome, but I don’t think that’s going to come in handy if we do this. Emery?” Violet continued.

“I can control wind. A lot of wind”

“Quinn?”

“I can astral project. Keep my body in one place and then walk around somewhere else”

Holy fucking shit, Liam was beginning to think his signet was boring.

You insult me, Deigh’s voice thundered inside his head.

How can I insult you if signets are all on the rider’s personality?

No rider of mine is…boring, they are fierce, cunning warriors-

Alright, I get it! My signet is very useful and I am very proud of it. Liam tried not to laugh out loud.

“What are you thinking, Sorrengail?” Imogen was as tense as a crossbolt.

“You’re going to tell me I’ve lost my mind, but if we pull it off, we’ll win for sure” Violet’s smile went from casual to fucking wicked “We’re going to break into my mother’s office”

***

Violet was scary when she plotted and Liam took a mental note to never cross her.

“Everyone, remember the plan. No one deviates. No one”

All of them were about to enter the administrative tower, sealing their fates. It was now or never. Liam was walking just behind Violet, trying not to step on her ankles while ascending the stairs.

“It’s six flights straight up” she whispered to them.

Once they reach the top, Liam discreetly looks over the long hallway, using his signet “There are mage lights in sconces. And you were right, there’s only one guard stationed at the door”

“Was there any light under the door?”

“No” Liam shook his head and looked at Quin “The guard looks about six feet tall, but he seems pretty athletic. The other stairwell is down the hallway to the left, which means you’ll have to get his attention and then book it”

“No problem” the ghostly girl replied.

“Everyone else know what they’re doing?” Violet confirmed for the millionth time, but everyone nodded anyway.

He wondered why she was so nervous. Her plan was solid and she was great at putting their signets to use. Was it her mother? Liam was sure the woman would not mind her daughter’s strategic planning…right?

“Then let’s do this. Quinn, you’re up. Everyone else, circle back down so he can’t see us if he looks this way” Violet commanded.

They do as she says and Quin promptly sprinted towards the hallway. The guard’s voice boomed and heavy footsteps echoed as he passed by. They quickly run for the door at the end of the hall, Sawyer and Nadine already working on unlocking the door. Liam’s eyes darted to Violet again - who was out of breath and looking paler than usual.

“Are you all right?” he whispered

Liam always thought that Violet’s eyes were an open book, unable to lie. He could see there was something too personal about that situation.

“Yep” she whispered back “And I’ll be fine in there. Which is funny, since I didn’t think the same way the last time I was standing here”

The smile she gave him was completely ingenuine. Her mother was the issue then. Odd. He was not able to ask anything else once the door finally opened.

“If you hear me whistle-”

“Relax” she told him, bumping his arm softly “We’ll go out the window or something”

They entered the office and Liam took his post, not allowing the distraction to hinder the mission - he could ask Violet about her nervousness later. The hall seemed empty, illuminated by the mage lights in a blue hue, but Liam’s farsight focused on Rhiannon peeking out of the staircase. Her and Emery had stayed there to lock the door of the hallway as soon as the guard left. Liam hoped Quin was successful in luring the man out, but sounds echoing behind the large door indicated otherwise. Steps turned into loud stomping and soon the pounding on the door began.

Fuck. He whistled.

“What’s going on out there?” Ridoc whispered while opening the door slightly.

“He’s pounding at the hall door! It’s going to give any second. We have to go now” Liam warned as quietly as he could.

Liam held the door open as they all run back into the hall, right on time for the guard to actually break the door open and catch them, yelling profusely.

“We’re dead if he catches us with the map” Ridoc is beside Liam, fight stance ready.

“We can’t hurt him” Violet warned.

As if she had super hearing, Rhiannon quickly stepped into the hallway and wielded the map out of Imogen’s hands and into hers, Liam almost cheered out loud.

“This was not part of the plan” Liam commented, standing beside Violet just in case something freaky happened.

Emery was quick to wield air, strong enough to push the guard away at least ten meters and knock him against the wall. They did not lose any time and ran to the unconscious guard, Ridoc and Liam dragging the heavy man into a random office. Violet kneeled, feeling the man’s pulse and nodding to herself.

“Good strong pulse. He just knocked him out. Open his mouth” she said while pulling something from her rib pockets - a vial.

Liam watched horrified as she poured whatever liquid that was into the guard’s mouth.

“He’ll sleep the rest of the night” Violet’s voice was almost too creepily innocent for someone who walked around with drugs in her pockets. But again…she did poison Barlowe with oranges and smuggled a strong sleeping draught for Liam once. Did poison master abilities run in the Sorrengail family?

“You’re kind of terrifying” was all Liam could blurt.

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[jumpywhumpywriter]

Chapter 19: Landed and Stranded

Warnings: aftermath of rough crash landing, blood and injuries, broken bones, hypothermia

Thomas squirmed around as he tried to find the opening in the tarp to escape its confines. He had never thought of himself as claustrophobic until now.

   Stupid tarp, he thought angrily.

   After a bit more struggling and finding dead-ends, he accomplished his goal and managed to untangle himself from the unforgiving tarp. He quickly stood up and dusted himself off, and then did a quick self check for any injuries, and to his surprise there was hardly a scratch on him.

   Huh. Guess I got lucky. The tarp protected me from the worst of it…

   He then scanned the area for Shadow. His eyes finally found the signature snow-white feathers of his ally poking up at a strange angle from behind a large tree root. He ran over to see if she was alright, hopping over the root and landing next to her.

   "Shadow?" He said, his voice filling with concern.

   She was sprawled at the base of the tree, and a small stream of blood trailed from the corner of her mouth. There were several twigs and branches stuck in her frayed feathers, and one sharper limb had badly sliced her right wing and part of her shoulder, staining the feathers and skin around the area a crimson red, which stood out against the exposed pink flesh and white background.

   Thomas had taken some basic field medicine classes in the past, and he relied on those skills now to aid him. He checked Shadow's pulse, and let out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding when he felt a distinct heartbeat beneath his fingers. Ever so slightly faded, but there nonetheless. She was alive, for now. Her body was at an odd angle from the way she had landed, and it restricted her breathing.

   I need to get her out of here, he thought. He gently slipped his hands under her arms and ever so delicately dragged her into the open, as if she were made of glass, taking great care not to touch her damaged wing or injured shoulder.

   He was surprised at how light she was as he dragged her towards the tarp, which was still laying on the ground with the backpack full of supplies in it. He gently set her down nearby, propping her up against another tree, in a way that she could breathe more freely.

   It was then that he noticed for the first time the immense size of these trees. They seemed impossibly big, much bigger than even the biggest redwoods, and their leaves were unlike anything he had ever seen before. The bark was made of overlapping layers of strange half-diamond shapes, and it reminded him of the scales on a lizard. 

   He jumped in surprise when Shadow suddenly began to stir, which was a lot sooner than he would have expected after the beating she had taken. He heard a weak groan as she regained consciousness.

   "Urgh... Thomas…?" She doubled over and coughed, and blood spattered the ground next to her.

   "I'm right here." He kneeled on the grass beside her. "You're hurt pretty bad. I think you should try to stay still for the moment."

   “We’ll see… about that…” she slurred, appearing disoriented and dazed, but quickly regaining her alertness.

   So… maybe a concussion, too? He wondered.

   "I'm fine," she huffed a second later, now fully awake. As if to prove her point, she struggled to her feet with a pained grunt, leaning on the tree for support.

   What was I thinking? Of course she doesn't listen to me. She never listens to anyone, Thomas thought with a flash of annoyance.

   "Looks like my magic was enough to heal the broken bones, but it seems I ran out of it before it got to my wing and shoulder," she observed plainly, examining the damage. "I'll have to heal the old-fashioned way for now until my energy is restored."

   “The 'Old-fashioned way'?" Thomas asked quizzically.

   "It means that I'll have to heal like you humans do. No more regeneration for today. And possibly tomorrow, too, if I’m extra unlucky." Shadow swayed a little unsteadily as she walked over to the tarp and retrieved the backpack. She rifled through its contents, scattering them on the ground. Finally, her hands found the first aid kit she had packed. The lid popped open easily, and she withdrew a roll of self-adherent tape along with some alcohol disinfectant and gauze. 

   "This should work for now." She struggled to reach the injury, as it was on the backside of her wing and shoulder.

   "Here, let me help," Thomas offered, stepping closer.

   "No! I don't need your help," she snapped angrily, recoiling slightly. "Don't... don't touch me." But he could see that behind the anger there was deep-seated wariness and unease, insecurity and uncertainty mixed in there, perhaps because he was a human. Some part of her must still not trust him, even though he felt he'd more than proven he was worthy of it by now. Regardless, he hastily backed off, sensing he had accidentally edged on a raw nerve, and raised his hands innocently.

   “Okay, okay, point taken,” he muttered.

   But after a few more minutes of difficulty, the situation finally got the best of her.

   "Fine," she growled, clearly unhappy with her ordeal. "The wound just needs to be sterilized and then dressed with the gauze and tape. Think you can handle that?"

   "Sterilize, then dress. Check." He smiled triumphantly at her, a smug smile inching across his face. Shadow roughly shoved the medical supplies into his arms with a venomous, angry scowl before turning her back to him to allow better access to her wing. Then she unzipped the shoulder zipper of her black leather jacket and winced as she pried it away from her skin to expose the second injury. 

   Thomas uncapped the alcohol disinfectant and poured a small amount of the liquid onto each of the wounds. Shadow couldn't help flinching and let out a small hiss through gritted teeth as the solution stung her like a bee, and he winced in sympathy. Next, he set to work applying the gauze. He finished with her wing and moved on to her shoulder when something else caught his attention, making him pause. There were a variety of large white lines, dots, and other shapes that spiderwebbed across the surface of her skin.

   “Something wrong?” Shadow asked, sensing his hesitation.

   “What? er–no–I mean–” Thomas scrambled for a reason.

   “I think you need to work on your lying skills, kid. Because you are really terrible at it,” she snorted. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a scar before.”

   “It’s just… There’s so many of them…” he glanced away guiltily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare...”

   “No, it's fine. I’d probably stare too…”

   “Then... is it alright if I asked a question?”

He noticed Shadow tense, and for a heart-stopping moment, he wondered if he’d crossed the line. To his relief, she relaxed after a second and gave a small nod.

   “Very well. Ask away.”

   “If you can use your magic to heal injuries… Why would they still leave behind a scar?”

   “Because the magic works by accelerating the natural healing process, not healing it entirely on its own. If it would leave a scar on a human, it would still leave a scar on a Falkry. We just happen to recover quicker. Is that good enough of an answer for you?”

   “Yeah… I think so.” Thomas shuddered.

   When Tanner said she had she had a dark and painful past… I didn’t realize just how right he really was, he thought sadly.

   “Well, now you know what war looks like,” she continued. “Every scar has its own story. Mine are just there to remind me of all the lessons I’ve learned over the years. That’s where I get my knowledge and wisdom from. Distrust is just an unfortunate side effect...” Shadow trailed off, lost in thought.

   Thomas quietly resumed his work, carefully placing gauze on her shoulder and fixing it in place with a few pieces of medical tape.

   "Done. See, that wasn't so bad." He smiled sunnily at her.

   The only reply from Shadow was something that sounded halfway between an agitated grunt and a huff.

   "We will have to set up camp here for tonight." She walked over and grabbed a basketball-sized object from the backpack.

   "What's that for?"

   "You'll see." With the pull of a string the object seemed to explode before his eyes with a loud FWOOMPH as it expanded to become a large sleeping bag.

   "Huh. Neat trick," he commented in awe. It only took thirty minutes or so for them to set up a makeshift campsite, complete with a small fire pit.

   Just in time, too, Thomas thought as he looked up at the quickly darkening skies.

   He noticed Shadow claw her way up a nearby tree with some effort to rest in its center, which was shaped like a large bowl, with the branches stretching out on all sides.

   "What are you doing up there, exactly?" He raised an eyebrow.

   "Going to take a nap for the night. That's what. There was only enough room for one sleeping bag in the travel pack. My feathers are enough to keep me warm for tonight, not that I would need them. Falkry are naturally hot-blooded because of our fast metabolism. You're not afraid of the dark, are you?" She taunted, peering down at him from over the edge of the tree.

   "What? Er... no. Of course not," Thomas sputtered defensively.

   But I AM worried about what kind of animals come out at night, his consciousness added quietly. He squirmed into the sleeping bag, which was positioned next to the fire. There hadn't been enough room to pack a tent, either, so it was only on hard ground.

   As the night progressed, the temperature steadily continued to drop, the frigid cold setting in unnaturally fast. Thomas’s breath started coming out in foggy puffs in front of him, and he could see the little white clouds of moisture in the air as a result. He huddled deeper into his sleeping bag, trying to seal in every bit of warmth he could as he started shivering uncontrollably. The fire offered very little warmth against the chill, and it had died back to just a few glowing embers, and his fingers and toes were already starting to go numb.

   The sleeping bag was pulled over his head to conserve heat, but it still wasn't enough. Every minute that passed was agonizingly long. Until suddenly, he heard the sound of flapping wings followed by a thump behind him.

   His heart leapt to his throat and his mind raced with a million thoughts about how some wild animal was about to tear him to pieces. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt something grab his shoulder from outside the sleeping bag.

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[wildsaltair]

this might be too personal of a question so please disregard if it is!! but i’ve been recently thinking of making a career change and going back to teaching (it was something i always wanted to do, but i got sidetracked towards another job in the meantime) and i saw in one of your tags that you’re an english teacher! and seeing as how i would look to go into that field / subject (and the fact that i also enjoy analyzing russell crowe’s films and microexpressions☺️) i wanted to see if you would share your opinions about it? do you enjoy it / would you recommend to others? and do you still feel fulfilled and able to enjoy your interests in tandem with it (given this blog i sure hope so!). anyways, just really happy i came acroos your blog and when i saw that tag too, i figured why not ask!

Oh my goodness hi, friend!! Thank you so much for sending this — I’m so glad you reached out 😊 I’ll be glad to answer anything you want to know! I actually talk about my job very rarely on here (I also obsess over analyzing all Russell’s microexpressions; it’s like a madness with me), so thank you for asking :)

(gonna add a page break here because I wrote WAY more than I thought I was going to)

Yes, I love a lot of aspects of teaching!! I’ve only been doing it for a few years, but I absolutely love working with students and meeting them where they are. Getting to know their interests, inspiring them to try new things, and helping them feel confident about hard skills (like writing paragraphs) is so fulfilling. I also love the organizational / planning aspect of teaching, as well as the content I get to teach. Reading and writing are my big hobbies :)

I also love getting to be in a leadership position because that’s very natural for me, and I enjoy getting to be the one who makes decisions about curriculum, pacing, and activities. I’ve gotten my curriculum down pretty well these days, so I’m able to enjoy teaching familiar activities instead of being worried about what I’m going to teach tomorrow haha :D

Finally, I love that every day in the classroom is a new challenge. No two days are alike. Yes, you have all kinds of problems to solve (and there are some absolutely insane things that happen in high school, I’m telling you), but you will certainly never be bored :D Every student is unique, and every day is a chance to start over fresh with new ideas. It’s probably the most dynamic, challenging, fast-paced jobs in the world.

I have to admit though, there are a lot of things that make teaching really difficult and discouraging. Classroom management (especially in a public high school) can be so challenging, especially when you have a lot of students with behavior issues or attitude problems. There are a lot of days where I just don’t want to go back to work because I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything and that I’m wasting my time trying to teach things that don’t matter. But what I’ve learned in that is that teaching English is fairly marginal: it’s the relationships that make teaching worth it.

Also, balancing the difficulties of the state / county’s expectations is A LOT. Professional development, teaching standards, licensure requirements, etc. the list just goes on and on. I always have clear plans for what I want to do with my classes, but I have to plan around what my administrators and county curricula require of me :/

Also, seeing students’ awful home lives is heartbreaking for me and adds a lot of stress. Seeing students struggle with addiction, abuse, suicide, violence, anxiety, bullying, depression, etc. etc. is the hardest thing to cope with. You get so attached to your students because you’re with them every day trying to help them think through their work, and when you get glimpses into the terrible things they have to deal with outside of school, it’s really hard. It’s doubly hard because there’s only so much you can do — you can encourage them and be their mentor and friend, but you can’t fix their problems for them.

So to actually answer your questions 😄 teaching is very fulfilling in a lot of areas, but you have to be ready for all the difficulties. I’d recommend teaching to anyone who is willing to be patient, kind, and engaging with their students, because teachers are in a unique position to impact so many lives, and a lot of them make students’ lives miserable because they’re uncaring, harsh, or needlessly cruel. (But I know you wouldn’t be thinking about going into teaching unless you were already willing to do that!!)

I think teaching is a true calling, and if you feel called to it, you should look into it! Depending on what state you live in, you could always try a TA or substitute position to get a feel for the classroom experience, then make your decision from there. There’s genuinely no formal education that can prepare you for teaching — it’s a trial by fire every single day, and you just have to experience it to know if it’s for you.

Finally, yes, I find time to balance my personal life with my teaching job! I read several books a month, take care of my dog, keep my cactus alive, visit friends on the weekends, and obsess over Russell Crowe / his characters every day (as everyone knows hehehe). Granted, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship during my teaching career (which I think could be a challenge), but I have lots of teacher friends who manage that. I think you’ll find time for whatever you’re willing to make time for.

I hope this answers your questions!! Sorry for the long post, but I love talking about my job haha. I don’t know if it’s going to be a lifelong career for me (I like to try new things constantly, so I may switch to a new career eventually), but right now I do love teaching, even with all its challenges and frustrations. If you ever have any more questions or want to chat about teaching, I’d love to!! I would also love to chat about Russell Crowe’s microexpressions anytime you’re in the mood for that haha. Thank you for dropping in, and I wish you the best with whatever you choose!!!