#hope you enjoyed that little piece of my lore <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[lonesomedotmp3]

miss having a huge crush on my close friend when I was sixteen that was so good bad good bad evil good for me

[supernovafics]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)

summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret

author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months. 

And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts. 

You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.

“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.” 

Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”

“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”

“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly. 

You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed. 

“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”

“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”

You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”

It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so. 

“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot. 

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time. 

“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy. 

You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something. 

And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.” 

How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable. 

You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”

“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.” 

“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.” 

“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response. 

You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back. 

You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago. 

I love you. I’m in love with you.

For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not. 

There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio. 

However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach. 

Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose. 

“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.” 

“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him. 

You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground. 

You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.” 

Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”

You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm. 

“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”

“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down. 

“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”  

Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line. 

You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.” 

“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.

“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.” 

Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him. 

You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?” 

“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said. 

You nodded at his response. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it. 

“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him. 

He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat. 

The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.

You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?” 

He shook his head. “I’m fine.” 

It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window. 

You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt. 

“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.” 

The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point? 

You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly. 

You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”

“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”

You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that. 

“Oh.”

You looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.” 

Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”

He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…” 

“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”

“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.” 

“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”

“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”

If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else. 

You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually. 

“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”

Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”

Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought. 

Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[leafostuff]

One Heck of a Joyride[Ft. WooAh's Nana]

Word Count: 14-15K~ words

Collab with @octoberautumnbox

My Author's Notes: we are so excited to finally release this fic for yall, me and box have been working on this fic since the end of FEBRUARY (almost 3 months) and we have been working on it so hard to make it the best it can be so I really hope you will enjoy this fic

@octoberautumnbox's author notes: there u have it! took the better part of three months, but it was really fun to work on :DDDD Thanks to leafo for making sure i didn't slack LMAO

No tags since it is too long but this is fluff and smut

Thanks: of course @octoberautumnbox for working with me on this amazing collab. @4m1rz for being my lovely beta reader and @libraryoferos for being my motivation to not be lazy on this fic

And so without any further preface, let's get started, shall we?

================================================

“And I expect you all to get along this year. Leave the past behind you as you all face a new future together.” Sporadic applause rises slowly from the crowd and dies down twice as quickly. The dean sighs away from the mic and drifts offstage, leaving everyone disinterested in the rest of the program. It all goes by in a blur, and finally ends right as the air conditioners start to fail against the heat of a summer not-yet-ended. 

Your attention is drawn away from the droning on and on from the stage and towards the many characters that populate the theater with you. You catch glimpses of people talking with their friends, a few crazy hair colours, and the occasional sleeping student who’s no doubt already saving up hours for the all-nighters to come. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice someone in the front row with both people sitting next to her conspicuously leaning away. They seem to want to get up and leave her there by herself, but the way she gives no reaction despite the jeering tone coming from her seatmates leads you to think that she’s asleep herself. 

~~~

“So yeah, That's the tour, bucko. Check the map if you’re ever lost.” Your student tour guide points at the multi-colored document on your phone. Vaguely you recall the various little symbols: which classrooms you can sleep in, which bathrooms are haunted, which shortcuts are best, all of the must-know basics of college life. 

As you continue scanning around the campus, the girl from the assembly catches your attention again. She has her hood up this time, but you can tell it’s her; her quick pacing and how she is not looking around at anyone making you believe that she’s trying her best to hide.

“What about that one? Do we not talk about her?” you ask, pointing at the oblivious figure walking past, drawing eyes and whispers much like your own. 

Your guide scoffs at the absurd idea. “That’s Nayeon. And no, we don’t. She fucked up last year, big time. Got a bunch of us in trouble. So stay away from her, she has those goody-two-shoes germs.” he says, walking away as while signaling you to follow him.

You wonder what she could have done to gain such a reputation. She was adorable earlier with her hood off, but the way people talk about her makes you want to steer clear against your own will. 

~-~-~-~

Curiosity ends up killing the cat, and you manage to gather bits and pieces of the incident from last year from gossip, class lore, and even the way some professors acted:

“She’s the luckiest bitch in the world with not a single shred of common sense. Seriously, who goes and rats on a hundred other students like that?”

“The test incident shows she only looks out for herself, even if it means bringing down the entire class.”

“There’s really no excuse for it. You have the answer key in your hand, of course you take a picture! You don’t just leave it where it’ll incriminate some other innocent loser and say you’re only trying to do the right fucking thing.”

The sheer number of factoids you gather from the wild bunch of sources only slightly make sense. Unfortunately, trying to piece them together only took up more space and brainpower which you should have used to study for your midterms coming up. Keep to yourself and you can just barely pass and move on; there is no time for college drama.

After the exam, you approach the professor to ask about possibly bumping up your grade. You decided to maybe half-ass an extra credit assignment and get the lowest passing score, but you resolve to just see where it goes. While lost in thought, you nearly bump into the small girl in front of you. already talking to the teacher, and by the way they’re whispering, it seems like it’s something serious. 

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here anymore, Miss Kwon,” the professor admits as he takes off his glasses and rubs his nose bridge. “None of this was necessary. I thought we wanted to leave all this behind us.”

Nayeon looks down to her toes in defeat. “I’m sorry, Sir. I was just thinking, maybe I’d get sent out of class this time.” Her voice cracks, giving away her vulnerable state: she’s near tears but trying to fight everything back to look tough. Sadly for her, you think, none of it is working.

“Look, just try to lay low. It’s your last year before all of this starts to not matter anymore.” Your professor finally puts his glasses back on and looks Nayeon straight in the eye. “Trust me, you’re better off keeping your head down. You’ll be fine.”

She walks despondently off to the right and out the door. Your feet choose to follow her, but a sudden jolt restores your common sense. “And you, Mister New Guy, what seems to be the problem? Beside your dismal score, that is.”

You have a slight feeling you are not getting a higher score.

~-~-~

After talking it out fruitlessly with the professor, he releases you from his classroom and you make your way out. The conversation with him didn’t take long, and so you arrive to a few jeers and muffled laughter once you step outside.

“Serves her right. Trying all this bullshit isn’t gonna change anything.” 

“Seriously, cheating on a test she obviously studied for? How dense could she be?”

“I bet she just wants to show us up. She’ll study and then cheat, then she gets perfect marks on the test and she’ll show us she’s untouchable again.” 

You find it hard to believe that Nayeon would resort to something as convoluted and pointless as that, but then again, you really don’t know her to make a judgment. Whatever she was thinking, you agree that it was idiotic to pull that sort of thing, even if you didn’t see any of it.

The weather on campus is the right mix of cloudy and sunny, with rays of light shining respectfully on the grass and pavement of your college courtyard. Something tells you that people-watching by the gym feels like the perfect lunchtime activity for a day like this, so you find your way to the properly noisy setting and look for a spot out of the way. 

You settle on a spot by the side of the gym with the perfect amount of shade and wind, but you’re instead drawn further back to the rear by strange and irregular noises. Turning the last corner, you’re met with a surprising figure.

It was Nayeon, sitting with her back against one of the walls, her entire body curled up like a ball. You slowly inch closer and closer to her, and you realize the strange noises that you heard before were instead sniffles and cries coming from the lonely girl. Finally as you get close enough, Nayeon feels your presence and raises her head.

Her eyes were full of tears, who knows for how long she had been crying, and you could feel the sadness coming from her eyes; they were trying to tell you something, however, it's hard to figure out what. Her expression of sadness didn't stay for long though as soon enough her expression turns angry when you get closer to her, squatting down to look at the girl from a closer angle.

“Please, go away. Leave me alone.” The small girl pushes you away, but with her hand preoccupied wiping away her tears, she can’t do much to get rid of you. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You have the nerve to do what you did last year and still show your face?” The anger in your voice catches you off guard. Since when did you take it personally when it came to her?

“Oh fuck off, new guy,” she taunts. “So I’m fucking hiding here, what more do you want?” She tries to act tough again, but it’s painfully apparent to both of you that it isn’t working. At this point, you really do just want to leave her alone. And just like every other time, nothing’s stopping you. So why are you staying?

You breathe a sigh of defeat at the situation you find yourself in. “Look, I don’t have any sort of beef with you personally, but come on. This is pathetic. You’re only embarrassing yourself by doing all this bullshit that isn’t like you at all.”

“And what if it’s not like me?!” Her shout sends a few birds hiding in nearby bushes to take off. This sort of language takes you aback from her; Little Miss Perfect Kwon Nayeon, top honour student, teacher’s favourite pet, hating herself? 

“I… I don’t like being me, and I don’t like what I am.” She wipes her tears again and tries (and fails) to look you in the eyes once more. “So if you’re another member of the ‘I hate Nayeon’ club, well… Better show the club president some respect.”

She sits back down with her back against the wall. Nayeon's eyes are wet for the last time before she wipes them off and faces her lack of tears.

Normally in situations like those you would just walk away and ignore people like those for the rest of the school year, but for some reason with Nayeon in front of you, showing herself being weak, fragile, and sad, something about her makes it so you can't leave the situation alone. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you have to know why.

“No,” you turn back to her as a determined expression is painted on your face.

“What?”

“I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me.” You stand your ground, arms crossed, and Nayeon can't seem to be any more pissed than before. “What is going on? What do you mean you don't like yourself?” you ask.

For a while, no one dares to speak another word, and you wonder if what you have here is an argument. For a good few seconds, she stares at you intently as silence hangs heavy in the air. 

“You think,” she says defeatedly between sniffles, “that I'm Little Miss Perfect, right? Like everyone calls me ‘the straight-A girl?’ Well I’m not, and I’m tired of everyone saying so.” She fishes out a very used handkerchief from her pocket and wipes her eyes of tears, only for them to be replaced by more. 

“It can’t be that bad, Nayeon. People look up to you, I’m sure.” You finally notice your alarms are blaring and you’re put on high alert. What you just said was the exact wrong thing to say, and you’re at critical risk of involving yourself in her messy situation more than you should.

She side-eyes you, calculating if you’re being sincere or not. She stuffs her handkerchief back into her pocket carelessly as if knowing that she’ll only pull it back out again soon. She looks down at her hands, deep in thought, looking like she’s trying to grapple with something she might regret. 

Once she’s done, she fumbles around in her backpack. She fishes out a tiny black notebook she seems to keep so well hidden, on the cover of the notebook the words ‘Nana’s Bucket List’ are scrawled in big, bold, immature-looking letters.

“Throughout all of my life, I always wanted to be the top student, the best of the best like no one ever was, and I succeeded, you know…” she scoffs. “Top marks in Elementary, Middle school, and Valedictorian in high school.” She sighs and tries to fight back more tears, though you notice she’s a bit more successful this time, with a bit of hope and yearning in her eyes.

"But on the other side… The other side seems so great. I mean, I see all these movies and books about college life," she says in between residual sobs and hiccups. She opens the notebook, showing you a not-so-long list, and even though it's hard to see the text from the small size of the writing, you can make out a little bit of what’s written on the paper.

Cheat on a test 

Get drunk

Party all night

Dye my hair

Sing in an Open stage show

Sneak into a Public pool

Shoplifting

You know...

Most of what you read makes zero sense, and you’re half-convinced this girl is just crazy. You stare at the scribbled letters, hoping to draw more meaning from them, but Nayeon shuts the little notebook in your face and starts putting it back away. 

"I want to do them all. Drinking, breaking glass bottles, partying, all that stuff," she explains dreamily. She zips up her bag and pats it down, making sure it’s secure beside her, and turns her attention back to you, “I want to live like a normal girl, you know what I mean?” she asks, you are not sure if its because of the tears, but her eyes seem to glitter.

"That's very cliche, Nana," you jab at her, making fun of the nickname she gave herself.

"That's all I know, though. Please." She takes your hand in between hers and looks up at you, teary-eyed and seemingly begging for her life.”This wouldn’t kill you, all I’m asking for is some help crossing stuff off of the list.”

You hate how well it works on you: her big, round eyes, her adorable little pout, her cute pleading voice. It goes against everything you know, and even now you’re sure you don’t want to get involved in whatever this would turn out to be. And yet, despite even the most deeply ingrained lessons you’ve learned for yourself, all it takes is a brief moment for it to come crashing down.

With a disbelieving sigh and a sense of regret creeping in, you ask: “What’s in it for me?”

~-~-~-~

You take a bite of your burger and breathe out. Cheap bun, dubious patty, artificial cheese, it all takes you back to a past life. You're left to momentarily wonder how you ended up where you are now, and slowly it comes back to you. You messed up.

"So, about the list." Nayeon sets down her cup, ice cubes clinking against each other as they swirl around her soda. "I already did one. So that’s one less thing for us to do”.

"I can do that much math, Nayeon. What do you take me for?" You chomp down on a few fries grumpily. 

"I didn't mean it like that. All I'm saying is there are just a few more months left until graduation, so we'll need to be quick. We can’t be lazy about this." She pulls out the little black notebook and flips to an unfamiliar page. The words "cheat on a test" has doodles of a devil's horns and wings and tail around it, with lots of eyes and ears decorating the rest of the ruled paper. Above it, the poster you recognize from the movie "Bad Genius" is copied, albeit crudely, in a thought bubble.

"I did this one last year, don't ask. Anyway, this next one should be easy enough." She flips to the next page, showing a couple pictures of beer cups and wine bottles, surrounding the words “Get Drunk.”

“Wait, is this the ‘incident’ people hate you for? What even happened there?” You eat more of your fries, trying to hide your curiosity. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work and she nips the conversation in the bud.

“That’s not anything you need to know. What matters is now and the future. Now are you with me or not?” She snaps the notebook closed and yanks it away from your sight, back into the pocket she keeps it in. 

“I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly your deal is,” you say disappointedly. You pick up your own drink and take a sip, and the cool soda washes over your tongue and throat on the way down. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be with everything that’s going on.”

For a moment, you catch Nayeon’s gaze on you, dumbfounded. You could almost hear the gears in her head turning as she tries to process your logic, but it takes a while. As she thinks, though, you take a particular interest in how she handles it: her mouth is hanging slightly ajar and her eyes are only half-focused on wherever they’re pointed. You notice how delicately her bangs fall on her forehead, how her eyebrows furrow and crease, how she tries finding the right words yet can’t find the message she wants to send. Odd things to notice, surely, and yet here you are. You messed up.

It starts coming back to you. The jeers from your classmates as you walk down the hall grow louder in your ears, and you fight against your hands trying to cover them with the knowledge that none of it is real anymore. The tears you fight back all the time surface for another rematch, but with your current state, you may be at a disadvantage. 

Fortunately, she shocks you back into reality. “Hey, are you listening? I’m feeding you, so the least you could do is pay attention.” She bites a small chunk of her burger and chews, and you notice how her cheeks puff slightly and the corner of her mouth is decorated with a dollop of mustard. 

Cute.

1 + 2. Get drunk + Party All Night

“God, this is stupid,” you think to yourself, exiting the convenience store. With a plastic bag in your right hand and your phone in your left hand, checking the time and the address Nayeon sent you earlier today. Finding it was easier than you expected, and you tried not to let the walk to her dorm set any expectations for you.

You bring your knuckles to the wooden door and make three quick raps. It swings open very quickly and you’re dragged into the cozy space without even the slightest chance to take off your shoes. 

“You took forever! Did you bring the stuff?” She looks all over you and pats you down, looking for what you brought her. 

“Get off, will you? I put them all in my bag like a normal person.” You swing your backpack off your shoulder and carefully place it onto a nearby table. Nayeon takes a seat and waits excitedly for what you brought for the two of you. From your bag, you produce three bottles of soju, three five-packs of Yakult, six cans of beer, and four bags of chips. She eyes each item with absolute interest as they leave your backpack, and she hardly contains herself once you finish and zip up your bag once more. 

“Okay, so how does this work?” Her eyes sparkle with wonder, and while waiting for your instructions, it was clear that as much as she was excited, she was also inexperienced.

“First off, get us some shot glasses and a pitcher. Oh, and a can opener.” Nayeon bolts off to the cooking area, and you can hear drawers opening and shutting loudly. You start getting concerned when you hear plates start to clatter against each other, but thankfully it dies down quickly and she returns with two small glasses, a decently sized pitcher, and a can opener. 

“Shit. I meant bottle. Bottle opener.” Without even a hint of annoyance, she rushes back off into the kitchen and, after a few more rummaging sounds, she returns with the correct item. She really must not know what she’s doing.

“Come on, show me!” She shoves the bottle opener into your hand, and you’re left with no choice. 

“Don’t you have a roommate we have to worry about?” You pop the cap off one of the soju bottles and then tear the aluminum top off two bottles of Yakult. “She’s out with her own friends. Hurry!” Despite her starting to get on your nerves, you pour all three into the pitcher and swirl them around together. Once you’re done, you pour the mixture into each of the glasses until they’re full. 

“Bottoms up, Nayeon.” 

“Bottoms up!”

The both of you down your drinks: yours slowly crawls down your throat, but hers disappears straight into her stomach. She reels at the burning lines left by the alcohol all over her esophagus and takes a bit of time to recover. 

“Whoa, that was,” she says, and a burp erupts from her mouth, “intense.” She sways a little bit to the left before righting herself, and then overcompensates to lean to the left again. 

“Easy there, champ. We’ve got two more bottles to go through.” You pour another shot for each of you, hers first and then yours, and raise your glass once more.

“Open the chips now,” you tell her. “This’ll be less dreadful with food.” 

Both of you down your shots at the same time, and Nayeon reels at the sensation once more. 

“Does that get easier?” Her speech is slowly starting to slur, the poor thing. “I’m kinda feeling a little something right now, too…”

“Yes, but only if you keep going at it, idiot. Don’t down everything so quickly.” Grab one of the bags of chips yourself, open and present it to Nayeon on the center of the table.

“Eat. You’ll hate this less.” You take a handful of chips and bring all of them into your mouth. Once you do, you raise your eyebrow at her to tell her to do the same.

“Isn’t… *hic* being hungry the thing for… faster drunk?” 

“Apparently so, Nayeon. I don’t even know what I expected from you.” You take another shot, alone this time. She tries to pour her own shot, but fails miserably at getting the liquid anywhere near the inside of her shot glass. It’s adorable how she tries, though.

You pour her another shot despite a small voice telling you maybe she isn’t cut out for this much in such a short time. You shove the voice aside in favor of Nayeon’s own words: “We pregame, drink a little, and then we go. Party starts at 7:30, so we leave here by 7 o’clock.” Her shot glass fills with the drink, and you place it in front of her, making sure at least to keep an eye out for what might happen next. 

She successfully picks up the glass and, sans the spills she made on the glass's way from the table to her mouth, drinks everything she could. She slams the glass onto the table in no light movement and you have a slight inkling of regret at letting her do that to herself. 

“You… We have to… Fuck.” Nayeon’s head droops and she catches her face with her hands. She may have underestimated how strong soju is, or maybe what being drunk actually does to a person. A groan emanates from behind her palms, and you notice she’s having trouble holding herself up. 

“Aren’t we going out after this? You might wanna slow down, idiot.” You pour yourself another shot and drink it leisurely. Nayeon tries leaning back onto the chair, and she finally pries her hands away from her eyes. She does a few quick blinks, and she tries to focus her sight on you. Her head sways a little bit, and it dawns on you that you may have overestimated her. 

“I’m okay… just… we have to go.” She tries to stand up, but she wobbles dangerously and you have to catch her. Dive under her and take on her weight, thankfully not too heavy, and keep her from hitting the floor. She mumbles a bit about something you can only kind of understand, but it's enough to guide your next decision.

“Forget it,” you grunt as you plop her back into her chair, “we're not going anywhere.” An exasperated sigh leaves your lungs, and you head off to the kitchen to return with a large bottle of cold water.

“No… we have to go. We'll be late.” Nayeon tries to get up again, but there's no strength left in her body. She sits motionlessly, probably thinking that she's already stood up, and it gives way to a confused look on her face as to why she's still in the same place.

You fill a proper-sized glass with water and hand it to her, which she drinks obediently. You fill her palm with potato chips which she also eats without objection. The way her jaw moves, clumsy and slow, signals a threat that she might just fall over any minute.

You move your chair to her side and sit there, allowing Nayeon to lean her head on you. Her hair covers her reddening face, and her hiccups arrive in growing force.

“If you're still in there, Nayeon,” you say quietly, “we're not going out. I can't look after you this closely at a party.” All she does to respond is nod. Her hiccups are punctuated intermittently with sniffles, which you take as a sign that she knows she has no power left to object. 

Still, you feel bad for her as her plans fall through. Despite the responsible thing to do, put her to bed and leave, you kick yourself mentally before deciding to stay anyway.

“Movies and snacks?”

~-~-~-~

Before you know it, the night goes by just as quick. You go through the list of movies she’d always wanted to watch: The Truman Show, The Great Gatsby, Mean Girls, and even then there’s still a few left on her list. You could tell she was watching properly halfway through the first, and that was the telltale sign that she’d sobered up. 

You drink a bit more with her in between movies, and she would frequently pause to get up and put on a song to dance to. “It keeps me awake,” she said, “I can’t fall asleep before the good part happens.” The songs she put on are generic pop and the kinds you skip whenever they come up, but you let it pass for tonight.

At some point, she pulls out an old Wii and challenges you to Mario Kart. “I am undefeated in this game. I’m not even that good, everyone else that challenged me just sucked.” You take her up on her offer, and the match begins. You try and almost get ahead of her in a few of the turns, but she would always take back her lead at the slightest opportunity of you hitting a wall or missing an item. And the way she glows with pride every single time she crosses the finish line before you do, the sudden brightness that fills her face when she wins race after race, the confidence it gives her that she isn’t actually the worst person in the world, all of it is a sight to behold. People may see Kwon Nayeon as an arrogant goody-two-shoes traitor, but the way you see her now is different: just someone with a past to outgrow. 

Right as the last movie’s credits start rolling, mischievous thin rays of dawn sunlight slip past the tiny gaps in the curtains. Both you and Nayeon have little energy left for anything else, and you maybe think it’s time to call it a night and go home.

“Let me walk you out,” she says while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes for a little bit longer. You both get up and walk to the door, and as it opens your faces are flooded with a world right before it wakes. Dewdrops sit respectfully on leaves and blades of grass, birds are only starting to stretch their wings, and the crisp morning air fills your lungs with a calm grace. 

You turn back to Nayeon, who you find is still admiring the dawn, and grasp her elbow. “Sit with me.” 

You both squat down and take your seats again on her doorstep. Clouds roll in and dot the sky, wandering on the blank canvas of today, eagerly waiting for sunlight to block out. The sun peeks over the horizon and the first proper rays start to arrive, spreading warmth where they land. Nayeon meets your eyes one last time, and the pair of you find a sleepy and still a bit drunk person when you look at each other.

“Well,” you say as if it was a farewell, “good night, Nayeon. And good morning.”

“Good night,” she giggles back, “and good morning to you too.”

3. Sneak into a Public Pool

“Are you sure about this?” Nana’s tone is subdued by fear. Her voice shakes and struggles to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time you get the feeling that if you didn’t need to be quiet, she’d be yelling right now and trying to get the both of you to leave.

“Can you please shut up? I’m trying to focus!” You find the first of the pins and push it out of the way. For a moment, you lament how restricted you are: this could have been such a simple lock to break, replace even, but the girl dragging you around was deathly insistent on leaving as little damage and evidence as possible. 

“You shut up! I'm whispering here!” Anger rises in her voice, and you almost feel anger in yours too. You're able to stop it though, and you remind yourself that if ever a guard was on watch that actually cared about this place, they'd be easily outrun.

The lock presents more of a challenge than you thought; despite the agonizingly simple solution of snapping its shackle, its inner mechanisms are harder to crack for whatever reason. Taking it pin by pin is supposed to be an easy task, but the warm and humid air and the incessant nagging seem to debilitate you. It’s such a nice night out for a swim, why make this any harder than it needs to be?

After what seemed like eternity you finally manage to pick the lock, sighing in relief as the both of you head forward quietly, but cautiously looking side to side just in case. The metal-grate door swings open slowly, avoiding any creaking sounds it may make otherwise, and the both of you enter the pool area.

“I gotta say Nayeon, this went better than I thought it would,” you say, both of you looking at the rectangular box of water which unlike during the day, was completely still, no waves, no splashes, just the water. It glistened and reflected all manner of light: the pool lights above and below the water, the yellow street lamps far off on the sidewalk, and the moon overhead, singing tones of wonder and mystery to those touched by its borrowed glow.

Off to the side, you find Nayeon fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Her head whips round incessantly as she tries to keep a lookout of the surroundings rather poorly. Sigh a deep one, and finally go over and take your seat next to her. 

“Thanks… gimme a sec.” She finally grabs the hem decisively. The fabric crumples a bit under her grip and folds as it's pulled up.

You can’t help but watch as the shirt starts to leave her body, revealing a slim and toned tummy underneath. Your breath hitches as it crawls higher, reaching her face and obscuring her sight, and she inadvertently shows off a dark purple sports bra that’s… a size too small. Your gaze lingers on her cleavage and the flesh of her boobs lightly spilling out of the garment.

Nana turns around and you’re treated with the view of a beautiful back and shoulders to die for. The way her body twists and turns in the slightest ways to negotiate the shirt off of her form is the most sensual dance you’ve ever seen.

And you realize you’re staring. Fortunately for you, she doesn’t seem to notice, and she continues on to fold the shirt properly before setting it next to her sports bag. You opt not to risk staring any longer, and you decide to get rid of your own shirt. You strip quickly, and your shirt flies off approximately near Nayeon’s things in a messy pile by itself.

Sit on the edge of the pool, dip your feet into the water. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be this warm, you think, but whatever the case may be, it feels like a tea that’s just about to go cold. This, coupled with the humid air and quiet atmosphere, makes for a perfect night to spend on whatever this is with her. 

She joins you and takes her seat at the edge of the pool, and in every other situation, you’d ask her to back off a bit. Instead, as she lays her head on your shoulder and takes your hand in between hers, you lose your steel in the most important of times. 

“I’m scared.” Her eyes never leave the water, taking in the light dancing on its surface. Her face is fraught with worry, and while you know it’s for no good reason, you nevertheless try to reassure her.

“Yeah, someone might jump out of the bushes and arrest us for swimming in a swimming pool,” you say mockingly. “They’re gonna take us to court on the charges of ‘using something the way it was meant to be used’ and we’re gonna get life sentences. When we’re all old and wrinkly they’re gonna sit us in the electric chair.”

“Okay, I get your point. But still, though, I’m scared.” She grips your hand tighter, and for some reason you can’t resist her. Place your other hand over hers and try to calm her down. Nana takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, and finally looks at you with a reserved grin.

“Alright, I’m good. Let’s go.” 

You feel her hand on your back, and warmth spreads from her palm. Her smile grows just a bit wider and her eyes follow suit. Her teeth show themselves from between her lips, and you’re almost tempted to dive right in. 

Lucky for you, she helps. The hand on her back suddenly applies more pressure, pushing you to the pool and causing a splash going all directions. Collect your thoughts and raise your head above the water to see Nana, face full of laughter, right before she dives in the water with you.

It takes a second, but her head resurfaces and you find yourself relieved. She catches her breath once more, and before you know it, you're met with a faceful of chlorinated water. “What are you staring at?” She says between hearty laughs. 

Wipe the water from your face, find the humor. Laugh with her, and face her properly.

Another shade of Kwon Nayeon. Granted, it's one with no makeup and way less clothes than usual, but none of that takes away from her natural, elegant beauty. It's captivating, the way her figure glides around the water, the way the cool night air wisps around the pair of you, the way the moon throws its rays around the world, your world, so haphazardly. 

Another faceful of water, and you snap out of your daze. “Creepy ass,” she snorts happily. She splashes you again, and this time you fight back. 

“Race you around the pool.” You start paddling, and the water grows loud against your ears. She says something back to you and starts paddling herself to catch up.

“Yeah,” you think to yourself, “whatever this is with her.”

4. Sing in an Open Mic

“Another night, another goal,” you muse, sitting in your car with Nayeon in the passenger seat. It has become quite a routine that every time she wants to do something on her bucket list she asks you to pick her up. You don’t mind too much — she pays for gas after all. 

“Where do we go this time?” Nayeon just shoves her phone in your face, showing a map with directions to some bar out of town. She looks at you expectantly, but without any more information than what you’re currently getting, you’re at a loss for what she’s trying to make you see.

“A club.”

“Exactly.”

“We already did ‘get drunk.’”

“I know. This is different.”

“How so?”

“Take me here. Make me sing. Take me home.”

The pieces connect in her head and she pulls out the notebook again. She flips to a page you again haven’t seen, and when she shows it to you you’re treated to the sight of “Open Mic Stage” in graffiti-style letters and the poster of “Wedding Singer” scrawled in the bottom right corner of the page. 

“If you have the map, why not just do this yourself? You didn’t need to wait for me. If anything, I’d only laugh at how bad you might be.” You push away her phone and notebook, choosing to return your attention to the sidewalk instead. The boba tea place you keep hearing about is nearby. 

“That’s the thing,” Nayeon interjects again, “I have been there before. I listened to all the people singing, and they’re… some are good. I don’t know if I am, but I got shy at the last minute and I never even got near the stage.” She grabs your sleeve and your attention. “I need you to make me sing. Don’t let me chicken out.”

You shrug, “Sure, let's do it.”

~-~-~-~

Taking up two seats at the bar, you try and seem to fail at helping Nayeon calm down. Her guitar rests against the bartop beside her while she fans herself hurriedly with her hand. “It’s so nerve-racking… I knew this was a mistake,” she adds before turning back and trying to leave the place, however, you stop her in her tracks

“Come on, you worked so hard for this,” you say, recalling the number of recordings she sent you: one for each take she was doing. “You can do this,” you continue reassuring her, knowing she’s more ready than ever. At the same time, you could see your friend get more nervous by the second, now taking more sips of her water bottle.

“But what if I miss a chord, or I sing badly? Everyone will laugh at my mist–'' You know at this point she’ll only spiral to worse and worse thoughts, so you nip it in the bud and stop her right there. You take both her shoulders in your hands, making Nayeon stop her nervous rambling, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink.

“I believe in you, Nana. just take a deep breath.” You stop to let her do as you say, taking a deep breath in and slowly breathing it out. The tension leaves her with each breath she takes, and you find a moment to keep her stable. “Good, I am sitting right here, not leaving for any reason, so if you feel nervous, just find me. Look at me.” Her gaze softens at your promise, and her lips form a tiny smile in response to your words. 

Hearing the current open mic singer finishing up his song, you send her off with some final words. “Your turn now, Nana. Break a fucking leg.” You leave her shoulders as her smile slowly starts to grow.

You watch her heading toward the stage, taking her guitar out of the cover, and taking her seat on the chair in front of the mic. “Hey,” she starts, “I am Nayeon… and I’m gonna sing Spring Day by BTS… I, uhh, hope you enjoy.”

She takes one last deep breath as you find her gaze on you. You return a reassuring smile, and Nayeon’s eyes fly back to her guitar. She strums her first chord, and the crowd’s welcoming applause rises.

“I’m missing you, when I say that I miss you more, I’m missing you…” Nayeon’s fingers strum the strings delicately, and it enchants you how graceful and in control she is of her instrument. The wood and metal of her guitar work together under her guidance to produce a beautiful sound, one you feel deep inside you'd never have heard the beauty of if not here, not now.

The way her lips move to articulate her words is heavenly, like she has you under a benevolent spell to bring you a rare sort of peace. It captivates you how she carries herself; behind her tough outer shell is a scared and confused layer, which hides a soft and optimistic core and wants to chase a brighter, happier future by cherishing the present. You marvel at your luck, that you were permitted to see so much of her, and how openly she welcomed you in when all she knew was aloneness and to shut people out. 

“Snowflakes falling from the sky, are drifting further by and by…” Her heavenly voice draws you in, and it commands your attention like it speaks directly to your soul. The sound of Nayeon tugs on your heartstrings, pulling you closer to its source, and you let yourself get whisked away.

And to its source you look; find a girl with courage like you’d never seen. See Kwon Nayeon in a different light than the harsh monotones of the classroom fluorescents, but in a spotlight that she takes up with everything in her soul. It’s a different shade of her: a shade of Nayeon that only you could comprehend, a part of her that only you had the privilege to understand.

“I breathe you out there somewhere, like smoke in the air…” The space grows warmer, like a hearth welcoming you home. Your surroundings quiet down as Nayeon pulls them deeper and deeper with her subconscious command: rest, lay down your worries and fly for the moment towards your peace. You look around, and every fellow face in the crowd you see has their eyes fixed on Nayeon’s performance; they’d never know it, but it’s the debut of a person coming into a whole new life free of regret and cowardice. It’s Nayeon building herself up from the rubble of a past that she aims to forget. 

“Flowers blooming towards the sky, has winter finally passed by?” The noise of the world seems to die down, as if just you and Nayeon are the only two things in existence. The pace of her strumming slows, as do the lyrics that escape her mouth. Every note she produces is deliberate, gentle, comforting, and for once you feel like you’re able to imagine a brighter tomorrow like her. 

With her. 

The song draws to a close, and she looks all over the crowd as they start to clap. You can't help but join in. Nayeon just bows lightly, and you can feel how happy she is that everything went well in her song. As she steps off the stage, you leave your spot and head toward her.

With both of you only a couple of steps apart, you chuckle lightly, “Well it wasn't so bad was—” You were stopped, caught off guard by your friend, dashing to you with open arms and crashing into your chest, wrapping her arms around you, and pulling you into an embrace. 

No words are spoken; both of you just stand there, hugging each other, her face nuzzling your chest as you could faintly feel her heartbeat. You were quite surprised with Nayeon being so open with you, since it was just a short time ago you made your promise to help. 

“Thank you…” she says, now releasing you from her embrace, noticing how her eyes shed small tears, that you couldn't figure out if they are tears of sadness, or happiness.

“... Always here for you Nayeon.”

“Please… call me Nana,” she says. She takes her notebook and crosses off another line from her bucket list, and as she walks toward the exit, you make way for the people coming by to greet her for the performance.

You can't help but wonder… has something changed after that performance?

5. Shoplifting

“Pick something already, it's not that hard,'' you remark impatiently while tapping your feet. Both of you are staring at the snack section of the local convenience store near your college, and Nana hovers her hand over the selection of snacks to look for the perfect one.

“Stop rushing me, I'm trying to choose which one will not get me caught,” she replies, still focused. The veteran petty thief in you groans, recalling your highschool days where nicking a cigarette or two (or ten) every once in a while gave you back huge chunks of your monthly budget. You miss the simplicity of it, and you once again find the restriction of being so careful more annoying than anything else. How come for Nayeon it is such a big struggle to steal one snack? You shoot the question up to whichever god might be listening, and you even half-expect an answer back. 

“You are thinking about it too much, the cashier is probably not gonna notice even if you stole something that made noise,” you add, tapping your foot rapidly, like you were some parent spending too long in the toy section.

“Well, please forgive me, oh thug master, it’s my fault that I never did that shit before!” Her whispers are loud enough for you to hear clearly, your less-than-welcoming attitude leading her to take a deep sigh.

“Fine, if you want to make it easier, do the buy one steal one method,” you explain. 

“The what?”

“Well to make it simpler than it already is, you dolt, you take two things, one you buy normally, and the other one you don't pay for,” you added as it seems to all make sense in Nayeon’s head. “Defeats the fucking purpose why we’re here, but really, the longer we spend here to leave with just four things, the more anyone will suspect us.”

Despite your best efforts to hurry her, they all seem to only make her take even longer. Her brow furrows deeper, as if trying to form lasers in her eyes to burn holes through the plastic wrappers. 

Your patience wears thinner by the moment, and you resolve to isolate before you lose it completely. “So if you’ll excuse me, I will get my shit and meet you outside,” you say, leaving her alone in the aisle.

As a promise to yourself not to shoplift anymore, you decide to buy just one pack of cigarettes. You light one of them as you lean against one of the store’s walls, watching the sun start to set. Find yourself sitting down, admiring the beauty of a day near its end, taking in the world around you.

Two cigarettes and fifteen minutes later, a small ding sounds from somewhere in the front of the store. It’s Nayeon, half-running out of the building, her face painted with worry as she finds and walks towards you.

“So, you did it?” A smile forms on Nayeon’s face as she takes her right hand to her jean’s pocket, revealing a small candy bar. She brandishes the candy around like a magic wand, as if trying to charm you into being proud of her. 

“Well… it's something,” you nod, while the two of you start towards her dormitory.

“Oh don’t say ‘it’s something’ when you didn't steal anything,” she exclaims. She holds the candy bar up against the setting sun, examining its entire wrapper. Now that you’re a considerable distance from the store, the worry on her face has been replaced completely by pride and excitement.

“Well I don’t shoplift anymore, the only reason I'm letting you do it is because you wanted the experience, which by the way,” you scoff, plucking the snack out of her hands, “all of that was for a chocolate bar.” This earns you a pretty strong punch on the shoulder, and the force loosens your grip on the snack enough for Nayeon to steal it back.

“Shut up,” she says, her cheeks seeming to grow a small shade of pink. She walks faster, leaving you no choice but to speed up as well.

6. Dye my Hair

“Do you think blonde hair will suit me?” Nana asks, holding the color card next to her face. You come in for a closer look, but as you stare you stop and wonder why you even did so in the first place. 

“Yeah… uhh yeah, I think it can suit you well.” You weren't an expert in hair styles and colors, so honestly unless it was a color that was actually hideous, everything was fair game.

Nana smiles at your response and picks out a box of blonde hair dye to add to her basket. You’re a bit nervous that she wants to dye it at home with you, but any attempts you made to convince her to see an actual stylist have been dismissed. “It’s easy,” she said, “there’s instructions on the box.”

“So, how was it?” You’re half-convinced that the bleach is eating through your rubber gloves, but you soldier on.

“Was what?” Nayeon checks herself out in the mini-vanity mirror in front of her. You have to swat her hands away from her head with your elbows, but apart from that she stays on her best behavior.

“You know,” you shrug, “this whole thing. The stealing, the swimming, the dyeing your hair.” You try to keep the bleach from dripping onto your arms, mostly aiming for the scattered sheets of newspaper the two of you prepared on the floor, but there’s only so much you can do. You just resolve to wash off any drops as quickly as possible. 

You get the feeling that she hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. The smile on her face dimmed the slightest it could before she could fix it. “It was… great! Stuff I’ll remember for the rest of my life, for sure.” 

Like some form of cosmic karma, she spots your involuntary grin in the mirror. “Good. That’s good.”

The color drains from her hair bit by bit as you apply the bleach carefully. You’re not sure how quickly you have to finish, but Nana seems not to mind. You gently stroke and rub the product through her hair, taking special care not to come into contact with her scalp too often, all the while she turns her head from side to side to admire the look she’s going to have soon. 

“You know…” she says suddenly, avoiding your eyes in the mirror, “this was really fun. I’m so happy I got to do all that stuff on my list.” Her smile changes: what was once a cheerful and optimistic smile just a few moments ago is now a wizened and melancholic one. “I mean it. Thank you for helping me.” 

She makes eye contact with you again in the mirror, and she flashes that smile to you once more. Her hair grows lighter with each passing second, and as her back relaxes and straightens, it seems that the weight of the world leaves her shoulders as well. She breathes more easily now, and despite the fumes the box says you should do your best not to inhale, you breathe easier too.

~-~-~-~ 

You’re sat back again on her sofa, and Nana tries her best not to mess with her hair that’s still soaking. She looks kind of silly, what with her old towel around her shoulders faded to near oblivion, her hair in sections making her look like a half-done scarecrow, her hands going up halfway to her head only to be forced back down by the other. 

And yet, you admire another shade of Nayeon. This time, it’s a girl who’s scared of the future, of changes she might regret later on. It’s something deep in her character, even central maybe, to be afraid of things she can’t take back. Even then, she takes her leaps and bounds to try and outrun her past, and finally, you see the razor edge that keeps everything in balance: Nayeon’s fear which dictates her present, and Nana’s strength which leads her to her future. 

“Hey,” you say abruptly, surprising even yourself, “you good?” 

“I think so. My head’s itchy. Is that supposed to happen? Should we wash it off?”

“No, jackass, it’ll look even worse if you quit halfway.” 

Your words set in and she realizes you’re right. Worry seeps into her face and you notice tears start to well up in her eyes.

“Look, this might not be comfy right now, but I promise it’ll be worth it later on.”

“Really? You promise it’ll look good?” She looks over to you with pleading, shiny eyes, and it almost hurts to tell her no.

“I said I promise it’ll be worth it. Not that it’ll look good.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

You chuckle at the sudden rise in her voice. After all this time, she’s still Nayeon, still Nana. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It means… if you stick with it, there’s no way you’ll regret what we just did.”

7. You know…

The end of your senior year of college rolls around, and the graduation ceremony is still fresh in everyone’s minds. Photos of friends together and square caps thrown into the air decorate your social media feeds for a good few days, and you can’t deny the whole thing was something you wouldn’t forget for the rest of your life.

And finally, Nana’s bucket list has been finished. To think that all of it was done in the span of a college year is quite impressive to say the least, as before you started she was lost in her own goals and left sitting for a good three years. Now, looking at your diploma, it was not only a sign of your successful studies at college, for you it was also the sign of helping your dear friend get to where she wanted to be. 

Speaking of the devil, now sending you a message

On the way, you see various people from her dorm building heaving away bags and suitcases, undoubtedly taking advantage of the nice weather to move out. You see people hugging each other, taking selfies, exchanging numbers, and all the while you think of each of them with their own stories to tell when they get home, but none so interesting as the one you and Nana built together. 

The walk up the stairs was more of the same, people saying goodbye, and you can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia. It was by no means a short year, but for everything you did, the feeling of wanting just a bit more time never seems to leave you. You recall the first time you saw her, that quiet girl in the front of the auditorium with four seats of clearance around her, and how you slowly watched her grow into the fine and confident woman she is now. Part of you is unbelievably proud of what she’s achieved, but another part of you knows it’s all her doing and you were only along for the ride. 

You reach Nana’s room just as her roommate was leaving, and you exchange pleasantries with her before she goes off. “Hey, just so you know, Nayeon’s a really nice girl,” she says in whispers to you, “I’m glad she found you before she left.” She pats you on the back before going off to the stairs herself. Something deep inside you glows in agreement, and you think to yourself how lucky you were to be able to meet and spend time with a person like her.

“Hey, come in!” Nana pushes you into her now half-empty room. “Yuri just left, so we have the place all to ourselves!” You take a seat on her easy chair while she plops herself down onto her bed. The half that still has stuff in it is simple and unassuming, and the realization dawns on you that this is the first time you’ve been in Nana’s room. Despite this, the space is warm and cozy, like it was filled with a good sort of energy for a long time. 

“Cheers” you both say at the same time, each with a can of beer that you both drink fairly quickly. You recall the first time of her drinking with you, how easily she felt her stomach hurting but this time she quickly shrugs off the bitter taste.

“You know,” Nana says, her eyes shining and her smile flashing itself directly at you, “I am really happy that you helped me with the bucket list, I couldn't do it without you.”

You simply laugh casually and say “Come on Nana, all you needed was confidence.”

“And who do you think gave me that confidence? I really mean it…thank you,” she says, and you can't help but smile at her back.

“Let me get some snacks, okay? Don’t move a muscle.” As she stands and heads toward the kitchen, you go to check up your phone to see what the time is. However, just as you are about to go into your Instagram, you notice something on the table: a little black notebook that’s only all too familiar. 

When you think about it, She has never shown you the actual list besides that one time when you two first talked. “A peek won't hurt right?” you say, the alcohol definitely makes the choice for you. Your sober self would never invade someone's privacy, especially not some as close as Nana’s, but regardless, you open it and…

You flip through the pages, and the notebook reveals so much more. The few pages you’ve been shown were just decorated pages, and each mission was a chapter, filled with dozens of writings, pictures, scribbles, each for its own topic. You find yourself smiling, muttering quietly to yourself: “You really worked hard on it… didn't you?” 

Your attention is snatched to Nana across the room, looking at you with cheeks fully red. You can't help but curse quietly, and you try to come up with something of an apology. However before you can finish your first word she says…

“Hey, come on, put that down!” Nana rushes toward you, nearly tossing the snacks off to some random part of the room, and snatches away the little black notebook from your hands. She hugs it close to her chest as she turns away, and she looks over her shoulder to peek if you might still be thinking about snatching the notebook back.

Instead, you raise your hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Sorry. But what's there to hide? Aren't we done?” You take another sip of your drink before picking up one of the snacks. You open the bag of chips and place it on the table for the both of you. 

“Well… I had one other thing. I gave up on it a long time ago, just never ripped out the page.” Nana turns back toward you and fiddles with a leaf of the notebook. Her steps are careful when she gets nearer to you, as if cautious to scare you away. 

“What?!” You bolt to your feet in surprise, your drunkenness taking a backseat at the sudden exposition. “Shit, we gotta go now! What is it?”

“Calm down,” Nana mutters, her feet rubbing against the carpet, “it isn't something we can do anywhere else anyway. Or, I mean, it’s done? I don’t know…”

Your nerves are still flaring, but you get the feeling that whatever it is, there's nowhere else but where you are now that Nana could do the last bucket list thing. Your gaze steadies on her, and she looks like she wouldn't budge for the world. Her eyes never leave the floor, her hands stay guarded on the notebook, and for some reason, she's also able to keep you just where you are. 

“So… what is it, then?” 

“Promise me you won't get mad?”

“... Promise.”

Once she hears you say it, her eyes shut tight. As if gathering courage, she takes a deep breath before taking deliberate steps to where you're standing. You never see it coming, but the next thing you know, Nana's soft lips are on yours, her delicate fingers keep you steady in place, and her vanilla scent fills your nose and overwhelms your senses that you can't think of anything at all but her.

It takes only half a second, but you melt into the kiss yourself. Your eyes flutter closed and start to forget the world around you in favor of the girl who stayed by your side. The space between the two of you grows smaller, your hands make their way to her waist, and you let your selfishness take over and keep her for yourself as well. 

The kiss breaks just as you hold her, and both your eyes shoot open to find hers just as wide as yours. 

“I-I, umm… I’m sorry, it was too sudden, and uhh…” It wasn't too hard to see how much she was stuttering, and if you weren't so surprised yourself you would've also joined her like the blushing mess she is right now.

The alcohol was starting to hit you again, and your better judgment slowly left you as you took her lips once more. You have no time to be surprised at how willing she is, and you resolve to just enjoy the kiss with her. You lead her to the edge of the bed and sit her down; and the first chance she gets, she lies back onto the mattress and pulls you with her. 

“If you really wanna know…” She flips to the last page of the notebook and shows you. It’s a simple picture, just two stick figures in a heart, holding hands. You don’t recognize the poster, but the quote is unmistakable: “You should be kissed, and often, by someone who knows how.”

“I’m glad we got to spend all this time together, and I know I keep thanking you, but I really am so happy…” Nana pulls you back in, and with your own sweet defiance, you trace kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. The whimpers that escape her are adorable, but at the same time they also confirm thoughts you’ve only ever tried to suppress: she likes you too. 

You go lower and lower, tracing kisses from her neck to nibbling her collarbone, and you settle right before you reach her chest. Her breath hitches when she figures out what you want to do, but ultimately her fingers rake comfortingly through your hair.

“So tonight… let me show you… let me thank you… properly.” Her eyes may look pure when she says those words, but with how you are inches away from her lips, with how you have been kissing her now, it's anything but.

She slowly pulls off her jacket, her eyes never leaving you. The fabric slides off of her arms, revealing the smooth skin of her slender arms. The next to go is her tank top; her fingers grip the hem lightly, tugging slowly upwards, showing you her toned tummy and milky skin. The hem rises higher and higher, until she stops right under her chest. 

“Are you sure?” Your question is breathless, not in the slightest bit annoyed, but your tone full of concern reaches her. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know,” she says, the sound of her voice betraying a dry throat, “I love you.” She pulls the rest of her top off, and her boobs bounce freely in front of you. Nana takes your hands and places them on each, and asks you playfully, “Come on, you think I never caught you staring?”

She pulls you back in for a kiss, a proper one this time, the kind that quenches your thirst for her. She tries her best to wrap her tongue around yours, all the while you take your fill of her soft tits. Pinch and tweak her nipples, feel them stiffen as her tiny whimpers grow into careless moans. You never let up, delivering constant pleasure to her chest, and your surprise when you feel her palming your growing bulge is quickly replaced with anticipation. 

Her hand slips under your waistband and her moan fills your mouth when she feels how hot and hard your cock is for her. She wraps her fingers around your shaft and gives long, slow strokes, nothing that would make you cum on the spot, but just about enough to make you leak precum onto her palm. She relishes the feeling of your arousal on her skin, and as she picks up her pace, seemingly trying to entice you to do more, you’re left with no choice but to give her exactly what she wants. 

You work on unzipping your jeans and taking them off, and with Nana’s help, it feels like the second easiest job in the world. They fall to your ankles and you kick them away, and all of a sudden your cock rests on the skin of her luscious thigh. The heat and the precum that leaks onto her flesh surprises her, but her senses come back to her and she asks for a time out. 

“Gimme a sec, I have to breathe,” she gasps unsteadily. You get off her, wondering what you might have done wrong. Her breathing is ragged and she seems to not be able to focus on much else, but a reassuring look in her eyes lets you know she’s alright. 

“I just– I needed to see it.” Her gaze falls on your cock, and once she reaches and wraps her fingers around your shaft again, it throbs in her hand. A groan of pleasure escapes you, and she figures out that she’s doing something right. Her pumps start slow, gradually building up speed, all the while she brings her face closer and closer, and you don’t even notice it, but finally her lips meet the tip of your dick. Nana rubs your precum all over her lips like lipstick, and she takes your head in her mouth. 

Small groans come from your mouth feeling her soft lips, you enjoy much more than you thought, especially knowing how inexperienced you thought she was. Your hands meanwhile grab a part of hair, pulling it lightly, causing Nana to moan into your cock.

“Don't get mad if I do this wrong–” she says, her eyes fraught with worry. Despite this, she makes careful moves to give you the best possible experience. She seals her lips around your head, and she gives slow but deep sucks as she tries her hardest. 

“You’re– nngh– doing great,” you moan, the pleasure overtaking you. The eye contact you two share is enchanting; she’s undoubtedly a very pretty girl, and despite the amateur blowjob, she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm. Her head bobs slightly, trying to take more of your length in, but her worry of choking keeps her from giving any more. 

On the other hand, she has no idea of the effect she has on you, and the sight of the gorgeous woman’s plump lips on your cock coupled with her eager attempts at making you feel good nearly sends you over the edge early. In an effort to stave off your orgasm for even just a little while longer, you regrettably pull her off of you. 

“What– what’s wrong? Wasn’t it good?” Again her words are coated with worry of disappointing you, but the way you look tenderly to her reassures her. 

“You are perfect, Nana,” you whisper into her ear. You lay her back onto the bed gently, and you let show your eagerness to please her too. You venture down until you’re level with her crotch, and you work slowly to peel off her thin shorts. As they leave her legs, you’re presented with a pastel blue pair of panties, though you can’t help but notice the growing wet spot right in the center and the scent of her arousal seeping through. It must be uncomfy, you think, and you strip it off of her as well. 

The garment leaves her and you look to Nana for approval: her finger between her teeth and her face red as a tomato, she looks at you with a loving gaze. Only then do you realize that Nana is now fully naked, everything bare for you and you alone, and the way her thighs rub together needily sends the message you’ve been dying to get. 

Part her legs, meeting little resistance as you do. Travel up from her knees to her thighs, planting kisses and light nibbles on the soft flesh of her legs. Hearing how she whimpers beneath your lips: “That feels really good… I want more…” 

Your lips finally meet her pussy, and the initial contact draws out a sultry moan from her. Each swipe of your tongue on her cunt causes more and more of her love juices to leak out, sending waves of ecstasy up her spine. She tries locking your head in place as she runs her fingers through your hair, all the while she grinds her crotch on your face as she chases her pleasure. 

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, you feel so good! I love you~!” Nana humps your face more and more roughly, and you take it as a sign that she’s close. Good thing as well, as you’re running out of air, but on the other hand you feel as though this wouldn't be the worst way to go. You run your tongue over her soaked pussy, taking slow, deep licks. 

She’s inching closer to her orgasm, her hips are bucking onto your mouth, your tongue meets her clit, she squeezes your head between her thighs, your lips seal around her swollen nub, she grabs your hair and pulls hard, and with a scream ripping through her throat, Nana squirts her love juices straight into your waiting mouth as you drink her essence up. Her scream turns into a drawn-out moan as she continues to grind on your face, making sure to pleasure herself enough to give you everything you’ve been working so hard for, and you lap every single drop of it up like it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever tasted. 

She releases her grip on your hair and head, and as she relaxes onto the bed her arms fall to the sides and her legs spread open. She lazily brings a hand to her pussy and rubs it, showing you just how good you made her feel, and she smiles up at you. 

“That was fucking amazing.” It couldn’t have sounded any sweeter, and the fact that it came from Nana, lying on her bed wearing nothing but a smile that you gave her, fills you with a sort of pride that you doubt you’d ever get again anywhere else in your life. But as she starts to get up, and she places her lips on yours, you feel another weight lifted off your chest. It’s another shade of her, one that shows you how she is when she’s content. It’s her way of telling you that among the hundreds of firsts she’s had in her life, she’s grateful that you were this one too. And as you kiss back, your hands finding their way to her hips, you connect with her again on a level that you never put into words before. “I love you too, Nana.”

Upon hearing, her kiss deepens and her tongue works harder to play with yours. She leans on you more, until finally you let yourself fall backwards, and Nana is right there, straddling you, with an innocent yet horny look in her eyes again.

“Your turn. Relax, okay?” She caresses your cheek, and suddenly you’re made conscious of how bad you’re probably blushing right now. Despite this, her smile never leaves her face as she continues to reassure you. She giggles at whatever expression it is that you’re showing her, and she gets to work. 

Nana reaches to her bedside table and opens a drawer, and from it she produces a peculiar box. “Remember when I ‘stole’ that candy bar?” She tears off the sticker on the edge of the box to open it, pulls out a little plastic square pouch, and tears it open with her teeth. “I… bought… the candy bar. This was what I stole.” She tugs on the contents of the pouch, and reveals a condom. 

“What the–” you start, but you soon stop in favor of moans caused by Nana’s handjob. “Don’t ever belittle me like that again, okay?” Her smile is again just as sweet and innocent as the first time you saw it, but now is completely different. It never leaves her face as she pulls the rubber over your cock, but not before giving it a few more cursory licks.

“Ready?” she asks, and you nod furiously. Finally, she aims the tip of your cock at her entrance and slowly sinks down onto you. “Oh, fuck, it’s so big,” she gasps. She takes her time taking in your length, feeling every vein against her pussy walls as you enter her tight pussy. She sucks air in through her teeth, her eyes shut tight, her fingernails leaving imprints on your chest as more and more of you slides into her unbelievably tight cunt. As she does, you feel her wet velvet walls rub your cock inside her, her slick spreading all over you and coating you with a warm you can’t describe. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, she finally hilts, having taken everything inside her, and she sits on your crotch without moving, still trying to get used to the feeling of her pussy being so full. 

“You good?” you ask, genuinely concerned if she’s okay or not. Place a hand on her waist, pat to comfort her. Her eyes open slowly, almost releasing a tear, and panic rises in your chest. 

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry, do you need to get off? I–” you start, but she shuts you up with another kiss. It’s slow and gentle as it starts, just simple pecks, as she reassures you once again that she’s alright. Once she pulls away, she flashes you another smile, and you swear she gets more and more beautiful with each and every one. 

“I’m okay. Are you okay?” She traces circles on your cheek and neck, and all you could do is nod. She comes back in for another kiss, and this time it’s much deeper. She opens her mouth to moan, and you jump at the opportunity to swipe at her tongue too. She loves it, and once she’s comfy enough, she starts to hump against you as well.

“It’s really really good. Do you feel good?” Her question snaps you out of your daze, but you only nod as you fight off cumming too early. Not long after that, you note she’s had her fill as she pulls away from you. Her posture straightens and she sits on you properly again, this time determined to return the favor and blow your mind. She takes in a deep breath, braces herself, and lifts herself up carefully. Your breath hitches, watching her naked figure on top of you, and you admire the way her sweat collects in drops before they slide down between her breasts. She notices you staring again, and she brings your hands up to her chest, moaning at the first moment of contact. Your instincts overtake you; you push yourself off the bed to her boobs and start to suck. Your lips seal around her nipples and she runs her fingers through your hair as she tries to push you deeper into her delicious breast. 

“Shit, don’t stop,” Nana pleads, and you continue kneading the flesh of her boobs more, sucking when and where you can. At that moment, she forces herself back down onto your dick, taking in everything again all at once. Her walls part suddenly, and once she settles her warm pussy walls squeeze your cock as tight as she can. She begins bouncing, her moans never stopping, and you find a rhythm: each time Nana brings herself down, you thrust up to meet her halfway. The first time you do, you reach a depth to her that neither of you thought was possible, and the heat from her sex with her slick drive the pair of you insane with pleasure. 

She keeps bouncing on your cock as her lewd moans gradually grow louder and louder with each of your thrusts into her needy core. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, her pussy tightens again, and just as you deliver a perfectly-timed bite to her nipple, another scream rakes out of her throat as her second orgasm overtakes her. Her pussy convulses as her hips buck again and again on your cock, her thighs and tits jiggle seductively, and her tightness reaches new heights as if she wants to keep your cock inside her forever. Despite this, you never stop thrusting her, never stop making love to her, and you cover her chest in kisses while you lick up all her sweat. 

You never give her a chance to catch her breath, and soon enough, an unknowable number of seconds or minutes past, you feel your own orgasm coming. You take one last look at her godly figure and divine visuals, and you finally succumb.

Hold her close, hold her tight. She’s made it clear that she doesn’t want you getting away, so you only return the desire. Keep thrusting into her, forget about how she’s losing her mind. She’s gone, lost in her own pleasure, and there’s no point in bringing her back yourself. Instead, follow her. Send yourself over the edge and join her in her ecstasy.

You momentarily lose your flow of consciousness as flashes of white fill your eyes, but you’re snapped back to reality with Nana pulling at your hair. Only then do you realize; you’re actually cumming inside her. With each spurt, you thrust into her as your cock twitches against her slick walls. The cumulative heat from your cum sends just the right signals to Nana’s body, and it sends back the equivalent of screams of desperation at the illusion of breeding. Your pumps are harsh and careless – thank the stars you’re wearing a condom – but Nana is too far lost to care past the unholy pleasure you deliver to her. 

“Fuck, fuck! Aaaahhh!!!!” You feel her tighter, as if clamping down on your cock, her cunt pulsating and the connection between the two of you growing wetter, slicker. Despite this, you never let up, hell-bent on giving her everything you have. One spurt turns into two, then four, then six. It didn’t matter, none of it did. It could have been the end of the world and you wouldn’t have minded. All that was important was the girl sitting on your lap, losing her mind.

As both of your orgasms die down, the pair of you fall to the mattress. You stare at each other, wide-eyed and out of breath, and all you can do is smile and giggle at each other. As each of you catch your breath, the world quiets down, and all that’s left in existence is just you and Nana. 

“Wow,” she sighs, “nice.” Her smile grows wide again, and her hand once more finds your cheek to caress.

“Yeah, nice.” You laugh back at her, the adrenaline fading quickly. “Does that check the thing off your list?”

“Oh, yeah!” Nana jolts up and off the bed, or at least attempts to. Instead, she falls back next to you, and only then do you realize the fatigue rendering your bodies useless. 

“So… we good?” There’s nowhere else to look but right to her. Nana’s beautiful, round, just a bit teary eyes gaze back at you with adoration and love, something you never thought you’d have for yourself in this magnitude. And yet, here you are, and here she is, as if nothing else mattered. 

“Shit. That was crazy. Anyway, yeah. Thanks.” With her last ounce of strength, she comes in for one more kiss. She collapses in your arms, cuddled right up to your chest, and you can imagine she could hear how loud your heart was thumping, just like hers. 

Catch her snoring an adorable snore, wrap her in an embrace that would protect her from the worst the world could throw at her. A small thought in your head says you want to keep her safe forever like this, but you know better: she’s a strong woman who can take care of herself. Think back to how lucky you are, and how you walked this journey with her. Recall how she was just a fearful nobody when you first met, remember how you watched her grow into the amazing person she is now. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, and you realize your waking seconds left are numbered. Right before you drift off to sleep yourself, you hear her, in the tiniest voice ever, mumbling her confession: “Stay with me.”

“Go to sleep, Nana.” You smile and turn your head toward hers, arms wrapped around her waist. 

“Not without a promise.” Her own eyes are half-lidded, and you can tell she’s fighting back her drowsiness as hard as she can. She tries blinking the sleep away, but it only works marginally.

You could say anything to her at all right now, anything in the world, but there’s really only two things that need to be put into words. Your mind rushes at a snail’s pace, and you reach for faraway ideas when the right one is just in front of you. In your mind only one question appears: “So is this like…a one time thing?” 

In response Nana just leans in and kisses your cheek, then giggles. “Would me saying ‘I love you’ outside of sex prove it?” she asks playfully, her tone betraying her desire for rest.

“Touché.” One hand goes to her soft blonde hair, brushing it to the side. “But in my defence, suddenly kissing me and then getting me naked was not the first thing I expected when you said there was ‘one last thing’ in your bucket list,” you state matter-of-factly.

You share a bout of tired laughter for a moment, and then you both look at each other with pure eyes, as if you two compete to see who can make the other blush first. Decidedly, Nana loses while she confesses. “I used to think that college was supposed to be all rose-colored, that it was to be the peak of my life. But spending it with you, I learned that it doesn’t have to be all grand milestones to live through.” The air in the room swirls differently, replacing stale breaths with new ones from the open window. 

“That time you cheered me on during the open mic, how you looked at me… It made me realise that after everything’s said and done, I wanted peace. And I can feel peace with you, without all the guilt of past mistakes, nor ghosts of regret that would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life,” she says, now leaning toward your ear muttering, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, smiling from ear to ear. Eventually you both released the hug. Look around her room for your clothes, which was surprisingly hard for how your sex wasn't too feral, and in turns take showers to clean yourselves up.

As you get out of the shower, fully cleaned and with some good-enough-for-sleep clothes, you find Nana on her bed fully knocked out. You simply laugh and join her, and her instinct leads her to wrap her arms around your waist while her head leans into your chest.

“Goodnight, Nana,” you whisper with finality, as if ending the night on a perfect note. Peck her forehead and close your own eyes, and fall into slumber just as deep as hers.

Bucket List Completed

“Argh, I’m so excited!” She grips you by your collar and shakes you as she screams, jolting away any sleep you wished to get. 

Two months have come and gone, and while you know it hasn’t been long, things have changed so much. Despite you trying to get just a bit more sleep in the backseat of the taxi, Nana right next to you can’t stop bouncing in hers as the sights outside the window pass her by.

“Okay, okay. Just get all this energy out before we get on the plane, please?��

She returns her attention to the window just as the taxi slows to a halt. Your new girlfriend practically throws open the door and leaps out, heading straight for the trunk to retrieve your luggage. 

“Hurry up! We might miss our flight!” She struggles lifting her comically large suitcase before you hear it hits the concrete pavement followed by its handle extending with its clack-clack-clack. 

“Hawaii isn’t going anywhere, Nana, please,” you mutter as you lazily exit the cab. You hand the driver your fare, and he reaches out to accept. As he does, he gives you a knowing smirk and tips his hat to you, as if saying “good luck.”

Turning around, you find Nana with all of your luggage too, eagerly awaiting your arm for her to cling to before you make your way inside. The hustle and bustle of Incheon International Airport fills her with a deep sense of excitement, and honestly, who could blame her? Your girlfriend is in the midst of all these other people — travelers, tourists, adventurers — and she fits right in. It’s the most natural thing for her now, to find herself in new situations that broaden her horizons and make her feel alive. 

She yanks you to her side in line for the desk, holding her brand-new polaroid camera at a high angle. “Cheese!” she screams, not far enough from your ear, but with how happy she is, you can’t help but smile her smile too. “Our first overseas trip! This is the first time I’m leaving Seoul, let alone Korea!” 

“Okay, Nana, calm down,” you chuckle, but you know she won’t. Divert her attention instead, put her energy to good use. “Do you have your passport? Carry on? Pink notebook?”

Though you both are sure she hasn’t missed anything, Nana rummages through her bag again anyway. “Check, check, and check! How could I forget?” She takes each item to show to you, and she flips through the pink notebook once it’s in her hand.

One thing about Nana, she never lets the moment escape her anymore. Once she sets out to do something, she’ll do everything in her power to accomplish that goal. This is no different, and you love her so much for it.

After looking through the notebook, she claps it shut. She flashes you the drawing of a gray bucket on its front cover before it disappears back into her carry on, and you both are reminded that a part of who you are as a couple is just that: a notebook that predicts the future by rooting itself in the present. Sadly, a weeklong trip won’t be enough for everything on her list this time, but who’s to say you’re not coming back eventually? 

And at the end of the trip, you have it ready, the best gift you could give her: a little green notebook, every left-side page filled with things you want to do, and the corresponding right side page blank, all for her. And on the very last leaf, where the cardboard of the back cover accompanies it, is a drawing of a ring, with the words: “I’ll be taking my time, spending my life, falling deeper in love with you.”

“Come on, hurry!” She yanks again, snapping you out of your wistful thoughts. “We’re gonna miss the plane!” Nana pulls you to the gate just as the intercom announces your flight has begun boarding. “Alright, alright! Easy,” you chuckle again, and you can’t believe this is the same girl behind the gym crying her eyes out alone just last year. Funny how people change like that, but at the same time, it’s impossible to think that Nana would ever stay the same.

================================================

Thank you all for watching, it has been a long time working on it and we are really happy it is finally out, hope yall had a good read with this one,

i will see you all next time leafies~

[kcrabb88]

QuinObi Fic Rec List

QuinObi week isn't until October, but like I did last year, I wanted to drop some of my favorite QuinObi fics to get y'all excited! This list is not exhaustive, just a starter, but I hope you'll enjoy!

Hush by @violentcheese: a gorgeous Padawan first kiss fic! Made me a bit teary, tbh.

Don't Waste Your Treat by @ninjigma: Obi-Wan and Quinlan are on a diplomatic mission. They bicker over a popsicle and are very into each other. This fic had me sweating. <3

Flu Season by @coruscantrhapsody: Padawan Obi-Wan has a huge crush on Quin (which is definitely returned). A QuinObi Week 2023 fic by my bestie

Reach For My Hand by jelucan: Quinlan was presumed dead but it turns out he wasn't. He and Obi-Wan wander through Coruscant and have feelings. This is one of my personal fave fics for these two.

With a Little Help From My Friends by @palfriendpatine66: Quin, Obi-Wan, and Siri are best-friends-with-benefits. A piece from last year's QuinObi week that I adored!

On Your Best Behavior by wanderingjedihistorian: Obi-Wan and Quinlan accidentally get married on a mission. Why not have a wedding night?

To Our Halcyon Days by @lothcatthree and @krispyscreams: Obi-Wan and Quin reunite during the empire when Quin finds out their son Cal is alive. A great and super romantic multi-chapter!!

Shaking From Holding You Back by @ashinaburrito: Obi-Wan rips Tarkin a new one when he's rude to Cody, and Quinlan thinks that's hot. Smut ensues in a closet.

Counting to Coruscant by @fanfic-phoenix. This whole series is WONDERFUL and has everything from Padawan Obi-Wan and Quinlan to their lives during the war (and the moments of romance they're able to snag) to the aftermath of Rako Hardeen. Super super recommend!

Red and Orange Beacons Go Forth by @ashinaburrito: Quinlan gets caught in a psychometric vision and Aayla calls Obi-Wan for help.

Betrayal by @brachiosaurus-on: Obi-Wan and Quinlan reunite in the OWK show era. Beautiful, Beatiful fic.

Ride Around the Moon for a Velvet Kiss by blackkat: Snarky and wonderfully in character smut set during the Clone Wars.

Stumbling on the Way Home by CapGirlCanuck: a comics based one-shot that pays homage to Obi-Wan and Quinlan's long friendship. Lovely.

The Beach by @lilywhoisapotato: Stranded on an uninhabited planet, Obi-Wan blames himself for their predicament. Luckily, Quinlan knows how to cheer him up.

Liability by KCKenobi: Quinlan takes care of Obi-Wan after Qui-Gon's death.

Everything They Shouldn't Be by @noncanonship: After Obi-Wan's Starfighter suffers an unplanned fall out of hyperspace, he finds himself stranded near Karfeddion, exactly where Quinlan Vos is on a longterm undercover mission. Obi-Wan intends to avoid Quinlan in order to protect his cover, but the Force has other plans.

I'm going to be annoying and include a few of my own QuinObi fics (there are many because I love these two but I won't list them all):

Kill the Lights: Fix-it that centers on changing the Fives incident in TCW. Quinlan searches for a captive Obi-Wan with Anakin, Padme, and the Jedi's help. Featuring huge amounts of QuinObi (with lore I created based lightly off the Orpheus and Eurydice myth, but happier in the end).

Blood Makes Noise: My QuinObi-centric AIDS Crisis AU set in 80s/90s New York.

After the War (Part the First): It's Quinlan who goes on the Rako Hardeen mission.

After the War (Part the Second): Obi-Wan and Quin reunite via the Hidden Path

Always a Little in Love: Post-Geonosis. Quinlan bursts into Obi-Wan's room to yell at him for almost getting killed. Obi-Wan wants to forget about the war in it's infancy. Feelsy smut ensues.

Forty Years of Knowing: Obi-Wan and Quin commit to each other and extremely tender smut happens. Set in my RoTS fix-it verse but can be read on it's own.

Shoulder the Sky Verse: My RoTS Fix-It verse, including the initial RoTS AU of the same name, and it's sequel, Whispers from the Dead, as well as several one-shots. STS features QuinObi friends-with-benefits-to-exclusivity and WFTD has them in a committed relationship (and said relationship is a big part of the fic).

[thewhalesheart]

ch 02 : p 04

the elders' den

i had SO MUCH FUN decorating this den that i spent 10 hours and 40 minutes doing it. oh my god. there are so many tiny details <3

the elders' den is full of little knick-knacks and trinkets that the elders have gathered over the years... animal bones, pretty rocks, shark teeth, shells- nothing is safe from being hoarded in the elders' den! not even plastic cups!!

also, salttuft! he won't have any speaking roles for a while, but he's there! i thought it'd be the perfect time to put some of his equipment on display.

around his body are two straps, each equipped with hooks, which are attachment points for his pack. since his equipment is heavier than say, a healers', AND he has to go from den-to-den often, having a sturdy pack is important! the pack has a draw-string instead of buttons.

inside his pack we can see two pieces of tinder fungus. this is what the soot-pelts use as their fire start!

on the ground beside him are another piece of tinder fungus, as well as a piece of flint.

and of course, the glove! the soot-pelts' glove has two uses: protecting the paw (of course) AND starting the fire. around the palm of it, there is a C-shaped piece of steel, which the soot-pelt can easily use to strike the flint. below the steel is a metal piece that acts as a "thumb". this way, they can grasp wood between their toes and the faux-thumb! this makes it easier for them to move wood around.

two more introduced characters: puffindive and stormtail!

puffindive is the mother of orcastar, the mate of salttuft (they love each other SO MUCH), and the grandmother of otterfern, sealnose, and coastfur!

stormtail is an ex-kittypet, he's based off of @iwannaholdyoulikeyouremine 's deceased cat, Cooper!

apologies for the MASSIVE caption this page- i'm just so excited about it!!!!! if you read this far, hi! i hope you enjoyed my kitty lore <3

previous / next / first

[nian-7]

hihi!! i just read one of your pieces, and i wanted to requests a little something if its not too much trouble!

could you do kanade, ena and mizuki with a s/o who when rambling about their interest, they start speaking so fast until they are breathless? its something that happens to me a lot and i feel dizzy afterwards, so i was wondering how would they handle that!

lots of love for u <3

it's not too much trouble at all! please enjoy anon, hope you're having a good day! :]

Kanade, Ena, Mizuki x gn!reader

✧rambling about your interest

✧fluff

-Kanade is a very good listener, she loves to hear about your interests and will sit contently there for however long you decide to talk for. Whether it be an hour or just 10 minutes.

-It worries her a little when you start to talk so fast you run out of breath, telling you that she's not going anywhere so you don't have to talk so fast.

-She tries to help and tells you to take deep breaths and offers you to sit or lay down if that will help you with the sudden dizziness of needing oxygen.

-" Ah.. (name), take a deep breath, okay? I don't want you to fall because you're so dizzy. "

-Ena is a good listener like Kanade. She enjoys your ramblings and it seems to make her feel more at ease. Like there's some stress lifted off her when you ramble to her about whatever.

-She doesn't really contribute to the ramblings other than listening to them with an occasionally humming as she works on her art. It's like her background noise that keeps her from getting too deep into her mind.

-She will put down her art when you start getting out of breath and dizzy, offering you to sit or lay down and sternly telling you to take a breather because she doesn't want you to pass out or fall.

-" Go lay down before you get so dizzy that you fall, (name)! "

-Mizuki will ramble just as much with you. Perhaps their rambling will give you a break so you can breathe for a moment while they talk about whatever lore or character you were talking about before.

-They're always down to ramble along with you if it's something they're interested in as well or just listen and ask questions about whatever it is you might be rambling about.

-They kind of pat your back whenever you talk so fast you get dizzy, telling you to sit down in case you lose your balance. It's a momentary break until you catch your breath again.

-" Heyy, hey, take a breather, alright, (name)? Don't want you falling over now, do we? "

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Leaders of the GSA~

(Past, present, and future) A.K.A: The Pendragons ~

When I first decided to continue (KBASW), I wasn't sure what direction the story would go or if anyone would still want to hear it. But I'm so glad I came back! I got inspired by so many other creators and people that I finally know where I'm going.

I know this piece is a little spoiler-ish, but I wanted to do something special to end the year. So it's the three GSA leaders (past, present, and future.) in their final armor sets!

And the story has evolved into something beautiful!~ I wanted to get this out there before the New Year. And Merry (belated) Christmas!

Guys, I just wanted to thank you all for such an awesome year. This goes out to all my mutuals & followers! I don't know where the story or drive would be without you guys!

Keep reading if you wanna more info/lore, if not...

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY! <3

Sir Arthur Pendragon and his final armor~

And yes, I know the blatant dragon references. (I look at so many dragons to get the armor right.) I swear it was a miracle that I was able to finish this before New Year's!

I'm pretty sure I'm finalizing the armor and mask, though I'm not sure if I should keep it open-faced (with his eyes being hidden). Or have his face hidden with his eyes peeking out.

For those of you who are aware (read this to learn more), Sir Arthur was supposed to be the "secret/surprise villain" at the end of the original telling of the story. (When surprise villains were trending "Frozen" Disney era.)

But for the rewrite, how on earth did this man transform into a good guy and one of my favorites!? The evolution of this man still blows my mind! But he has one of the most touching stories in the KBASW plot line.

Sir Arthur's story is a full-on love story (Celarthur), but it also serves as a setup for the main story. (Which is why it's taking me so long to finish Celestine's character sheet... sorry for the wait on that, but it's coming... I promise! )

Throughout the story, you're gonna see a lot of parallels between the three of them. But Sir Arthur is ultimately the one who ends the cycle and lays out the foundation for the galaxy.

Sir Arthur is meant to be the match that sparked the era of peace in the galaxy... (Dark era being Sir Uther's) Meta Knight is supposed to be the spark... and then Kirby is the flame. :3

Needless to say, THE PENDRAGON FAMILY IS STACKED!

Future titles:

Kirby: The Starlight Prince

Meta Knight: The Guardian of Heroes

Sir Arthur: The King of kings

I look forward to the next year with you guys! THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT!

[icekingofhope]

(Enjoy this meme here-)

so the Sonic 3 trailer is out and I decided to go on and make a silly post and a small announcement

I have decided after much debate I will start officially making sonic art NOW KNOW I am new at drawing the sonic artstyle so the characters may look like something out of the shining or something cause I’m getting used to drawing them I done the same with the lmk style until I perfected it

Anyways I decided to ramble my thoughts on the trailer and why I love Sonic

now I am a sonic veteran I have drawn sonic before but when I was way younger but Sonic has stuck by me I remember back in the 2000s I used to watch sonic underground a lot on Netflix that’s how long ago it was I always loved sonic I loved the video games even own some sonic games myself!

my first one was sonic unleashed one of my favorite games I always loved and still love to this day the time where he was a werehog and sometimes I even wish he can go back to werehog sonic and plus it introduced me one of my comfort songs endless possibilities

I got way more into Sonic thanks to the anime Sonic X I didn’t watch the whole series cause it started to get weird but it was how I was introduced to shadow one of my favorite characters

I remember I was so intrigued I tried to find other content and then I found YouTuber named animebromii (who unfortunately is a…well piece of shit to sum it up he was one of those found out to get to close to kids type of YouTubers category but that was found out right after I stopped watching him) I remember his Sonic videos always made me filled with joy and made me love the characters more

although I stop getting into Sonic as fans started to get a little to weird for my taste and such and Sega didn’t know what the fuck they were doing

what rekindle my love for Sonic was well the Sonic movies and as I watch I remembered the joy I had for it and started to slowly get into Sonic again and explore more of it due to being more mature and such I turned out to have well a lot of unpopular opinion that I know will have a mob of angry Sonic fans chasing me with pitchforks

Just Some headcanons and ships I don’t agree on and such even some dislike on how Sega is going about like trying to make sonamy now NOTE I don’t mind sonamy hell as a kid I was one of the people who ship it or more specifically the werehog sonic x Amy (i saw so many AMVs and one of those story shits….you have no idea how much of a huge werehog sonic fan I was) but the reason it makes me uncomfortable cause I found out Sega have gave the group canon ages at one point….

which where Amy is 12 and sonic is 15 NOW I don’t know if this is true I haven’t seen proof and out of all honestly I personally think the ages shouldn’t have been confirmed cause well it feels like to me it fucks up the lore and a lot of ships people love and you could have your own headcanons and such for their ages and to me Sonic doesn’t feel like he is 15 to me like hell when I was younger I thought he was ALEAST 18 or 16

There is only few ships I feel comfortable with that is Elise x sonic and sonia x knuckles

now admittedly yes I maybe not the biggest Sonic fan I haven’t read any of the comics i haven’t played all the games hell sometimes I don’t know half of the characters sometimes but still I love Sonic with all my heart and I hope you guys enjoy this little adventure of mine of Sonic the hedgehog

[choicesficwriterscreations]

February Creator of the Month: Noesapphic

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @noesapphic!   The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? 

Noe is fine, really!

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played? 

I started in 2018. I was bored in a friend's house and fighting good old insomnia when I saw the app and tried it for funsies. The first book was 'High School Story'. 

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined around late 2018 early 2019 and I had just left my community in Amino because the admin had gone full puritanical dictator and I was curious about Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name? 

It was simple: my nickname is Noe and I am a sapphic (aka lesbian). It's a no-brainer, really. 

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!  

It was a reblogged quote. I related to what it said and I reblogged it 

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both? 

I write fanfiction. God did not grant me art skills I'm afraid. My fingers are too fat and my pulse is terrible. 

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I've been creating for fandoms as long as I can remember. I've had a really troubled life, so creating stuff helped me. As for Choices, I've been creating stuff since 2019 

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, Desire and Decorum. The first book is simply a masterlist and its characters are so well-written, and everything about it just draws me to it. They definitely botched the other books, but it will always be in my heart. I also enjoy creating for other historical books and books that have similar themes 

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a set of headcanons of Mr. Sinclaire and my MC, Celestine, finding out that they're going to be parents. While my spelling is terrible, I wouldn't change a thing. The engagement I received was such, it drove me to write for more. I haven't stopped creating since. 

9- What your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created? 

It's no secret for anyone who pays attention to my blog: my au, The Cursed Heiress, is probably my best creation. It's complex and a juggernaut of lore and history, and has all I've ever wanted in a fic and book in it. Although a close second is my Tudor AU, For Love and Duty. I simply love the 'arranged marriage' trope 

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The second part of a one shot, A True Man, was probably one of the most difficult to write, and with a very traumatising and important theme. I was 100% hoping anon hate telling me to delete it, but found instead that the people ate it up! It has now 30 notes (which is A LOT for a small fandom like the D&D one) and now that I reread it, I'm proud of what I created and the message I wanted to send, which resonates with happenings of my past and experiences. 

11 - If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why? 

Definitely angst. There's something so cathartic and relieving as letting out those emotions you can't express out loud without being locked up for being unhinged, and it has helped me understand myself many times. Also, smut is def something that I can't physically write 😅 

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are small parts of me in every MC. A fragment of my past. Something of their lore that I went through. Something I aspire to be. Something I wanted to be once. I like to think that every writer leaves a part of their heart and soul with each character they create. 

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Ooof, where to begin. I think the hardest part is to just write. I can go on for weeks looking at my turned-off laptop and goof off on Tumblr. But when I do write, the 'boring' parts or writing a character that I am not familiar with or that there isn't much info about can be challenging. 

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oof, where to begin, lol. My modern AUs, The Viscountess and Plan B. There's also Your Most Ardent Admirer and For Love and Duty. There's the fix-it fic series of the Blades LIs. Profiles of my MCs from several series. And also fic ideas that I want to create, but don't know where or how to start it. Woe is me indeed 😭 

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first? 

Depends on the person. I would be very, very picky. I did show some parts of The Cursed Heiress to two trusted friends. But I wouldn't be against showing my mom a few chapters of The Viscountess… Unfortunately, she does not speak a word of English and I am terrible at translations, so it's wishful thinking, lol. 

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

For the published ones, Holly Black and Cassandra Clare have probably been my biggest help. Leigh Bardugo is also a newer inspo, and Spanish author Laura Gallego got me into fantasy, and anonymous author Bebi Fernández's raw and brutal prose have helped me find my voice. I have now bought George R.R Martin's Game of Thrones, looking for new sources to grasp. 

As for fandom-wise, the very first writer to inspire me unfortunately hasn't been active since the pandemic, and despite our differences, @hellospunkiebrewster 's writing and essays got me into Regency and its history. My thriving years were by her side, and I'm grateful of having had a great fandom friend and hyper. The most recent ones are @missameliep my amazing fandom mom (te quiero mami 🥰) and some pieces by @princess-geek 's writing have inspired me to expand my horizon. 

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series? 

The Cursed Heiress, definitely. I think that my messages would resonate with many people. There's also The Viscountess: many people should see the messages Nicole, Anne and others have, and for what I have planned (and have been stalling out of laziness 🫣) would put things into perspective for many minorities and certain groups that are neglected by society and governments alike.  19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art? 

I am now at the outlining stages of making The Cursed Heiress an original novel. I tried many times to make my own novel, but always dropped it. But now that I've been for years with it, I feel like this might be the one project I dreamed of publishing one day. It's tough and scary, but I'm loving the ride so far. 

Also, I have tried my hand with poetry, but it didn't have engagement and felt like talking to a wall, so I now feel discouraged. But if someone out there is interested, lmk 👀 

20-  What other hobbies do you have?

Apart from literature, I love make-up, skincare, cooking and making gifs and videoedits. I also love travelling and discovering new adventures and learning as many languages as I am capable. I also love listening to music. Basically anything that has to do with the humanities and art, I'll take it. Also, I am very invested in modern royal gossip. I know, not very republican of me… 🫣😅 

21 - What’s your favorite emoji? 

Apparently, the one I use the most is 🫡🫶🏻👀. Heh, sounds like me, lol 

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____

Two reminders to both creators and onlookers alike: 

Creators: making content is NOT a race or a chore. It's something you make just because, and share it with the world. If you don't enjoy it, it's not worth the effort. 

Onlookers: I know how much you may love X thing, but remember that behind that art, fic, etc, there's a person with real feelings, real life and that is taking off free time to make something. Enjoy it, reblog it (please, reblog the stuff you love) and if you don't like it, filter the tag, block and move on. It's really that simple. 

Also, happy Valentine's Day AND Black History Month to the black creators of Choices! You're awesome and we love you ❤ sending you love 🥰 

[oskidontle]

Heya just discovered your AU recently and I'm really enjoying it I have some questions though 1. how did this start off? Like how did the hunger start manifesting and what were the very first signs? 2. is Mr boss evil? 3. what do the others think of the fact that pim starves himself of flesh? Do they encourage him to eat Orr? 4. Can they still eat normal food? And if so do they have like a strong adversion to it orr? 5. Who did the hunger take the biggest toll on mentally 6. Are you planning on making some sorta comic or some other to tell your story I'm pretty sure there's a story here but mabye I'm wrong idk 7. How'd you come up with the designs for their hunger forms and the AU in general?

OG AU Post for the confused

1. The very first signs are subtle enough no one notices, not even themselves. The only evidence something is off is animals start to steer clear. Maybe they sense something more instinctual, feral, about their aura? Scent maybe? However it is, animals with their superior senses know something is wrong.

They didn't start noticing anything themselves until they started to see things in the mirror for just slight glimpses. Glimpses of something but they could never make out what.

It's only days from there when the cravings start. But many times someone can crave something and not know what it is they crave until they find it. As you can imagine, because of this, each of their first hunts were unexpected. As such, people can get caught in the crossfire. Important people.

It was unlucky that Pim had to learn what he was craving when he did.

2. Mr. Boss is not evil. But he has a job to do, one that he has been tending to for many years. 18 years to be precise. He hopes to complete his job soon enough.

3. Allan and Glep care but they don't try to stop him. Instead they just check up on him often, bring some drinks, normal food. They don't really know how to approach him in a way they perceive as meaningful.

Charlie despite his desperation for a way to fix all of it still encourages Pim to eat. He reasons with him that there is no point in Pim or any of them starving themselves. After all it always ends the same way, a loss of control and an inevitable rampage. Why loose control and possibly hurt someone you don't want to hurt, when at the very least the hunt let's you know the victim ahead of time.

It's not much of a compensation. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. Unfortunately it's his own choice at the end of the day.

4. They can eat normal food, in fact they still have to. The Hunger has just added another part to their diet that their body perceives as crucial for survival.

5. That's hard to answer, depends on what you put value on in this toll. In my opinion I'd say it's either Glep or Pim.

6. Maybe, maybe not. If I'm honest I don't know yet. I might make occasional snippets of moments I imagine happening. They wouldn't be in chronological order, just whenever I feel like making them. If I don't make a master post later on then I would leave the chronological order left for any interested to piece together using context clues I leave throughout different posts.

Like I said, this is a big maybe. Ideally I would make a fic but I have never been able to finish a single chapter of a fic in my life. I loose focus too easy.

I have a story to tell but I suppose I haven't decided how I want to tell it

7. If you want me to be truly honest, I didn't think that much. I built lore after designs. I wanted them each to have a sort of gimmick going on while being kinda cohesive simultaneously. I also knew I didn't want to go with a hyper detailed or overly realistic look.

In-universe they probably look terrifying but to you or I, they look just kinda uncanny. A little gross.

After making the initial designs I started to come up with lore and adjusted details accordingly.

As for why I came up with it?

Two words: For fun! :)

[makoredeyes]

Hello, I hope you're doing well! This is probably an odd question, feel free to ignore it. I wanted to ask you as a fellow writer I admire, who is mostly focused on unpopular/dead/deep lore characters. Do you also sometimes feel like what you're writing is irrelevant and unexciting for everyone, except yourself? If so, how do you deal with this? For me sometimes this sudden realization is so crushing, that I cannot bring myself to finish a single work.

Hello! That’s not an odd question at all in fact it feels pretty relevant tbh. (Omg sorry long reply you got me going 💙)

I think I have several kind of interrelated answers for you so let me lay them out.

1- I am powered by autism and a MIGHTY hyperfixation. I have no choice I am compelled. I am blinded to all other things and so while the little bit of feedback that I do get is AMAZING and so extra sparkly motivating it is not entirely what compels me (but BOY does it help)

2- I joked with a friend just last night that, “this season is, as usual, does not have NEARLY enough Felwinter content and so I must therefore create my own.” - as she pointed out, there have been exactly TWO seasons with ANY Felwinter content at all and I wasn’t playing destiny yet for one of them. My point being, sometimes you gotta create what you want to see yourself. I’ve always found myself in some really niche corner of whatever fandom I’m in and have to do this a lot. Probably how I got to writing and drawing etc. fun thing is tho you find a really special group of people who think and love like you that way, and if it’s a smaller crowd, it’s all the more intimate for it Imo. I’ve made some super special friends in the last 9 months or so in my weird little corner here and it’s magical and I think that quality over quantity filter is awesome. (But yeah i know the validation machine is SO good too)

3- the BEST magic of borrowing from obscure content, generally unknown or undeveloped characters or lore is the creative freedom. The headcannon swapping the worldbuilding the background gathering… the RESEARCH! Gleaning what little bit I can from what we DO have. Who the fuck is timur?! We don’t know. I borrowed the beautiful designs for his face and general personality that Sylenth has developed because she’s done such an amazing job and was kind enough to allow me to play with him as she made him, and took that as jump off point for my writing etc but I have all the wiggle room in the world with but a few widely dispersed canon signposts to lead my direction and that is just so fucking fun for me.

(And that doesn’t mean more mainstream characters like Osiris don’t have their creative appeal to me either. I will deep dive on lore and character analysis for YEARS but living in the peripherals is comfy for me)

Those are all the positives to my work, but yeah, sometimes I do feel a little dejected. I have definitely felt a drop off in reader response weirdly in converse to the effort I put into my writing. Housefire has evolved into much more of a cohesive Plot(tm) that is going somewhere very specific from its origin of a few interlinked fluffy anecdotes and funnily enough about the time I started really digging my heels in and plotting and planning and putting in twists I was REALLY excited about, people started responding less. Some of my favorite fics are the least popular. Some of my art I am most proud of gets the least attention but that damn doodle of poor Felwinter getting splattered by a warsat has 200+ more notes than my next most popular art. (The shitposts always win Damnit! 😩🤣😅)

I get frustrated and yeah sometimes a bit discouraged sometimes and I spend Way Too Much time sitting here refreshing my notes because I am a sad lonely person chronically online just way too thirsty for a little validation or a conversation with someone but like. Every piece gets better. Every piece SOMEONE appreciates. Every piece **I** enjoy and is also a chance for all of that when I share it with the world and that’s exciting and good, and like I said the people in this community as niche and little as it is, are really something special, and some of the people that have come into my circle because of it make it SO worth it.

**I was done but then I read your ask one more time and I’ll add this since it popped into my head last-second:

If we are creating works for dead characters we love, we are keeping them alive.

How magical is that??

[genericpuff]

Hello, I want to say that I enjoy reading Lore Rekindled. I used to try and get into Lore Olympus back when it was starting, because I'm a huge Mythology Nerd, especially when it comes to Greek. But, even though the comic had so much potential, I really hated it. The art style was very inconsistent and messy. Like I see why it was appealing because it was striking and unique for the time on Webtoon, but it strained my eyes because it was hard to tell who was who half the time. The writing was all over the place with so many plot's that were supposedly to exist but were either settled in an anti-climatic way or just never were addressed at all. And the characters... by gosh, they act more like fake celebrities' and cardboard cutouts than their actual counterparts. It's so laughable when people say "I can relate to Persephone" like... the girl doesn't have any set traits, she's just a self-insert with no actual flaws! And the fact LO labels itself as a feminist retelling, while it pits women against each other, labels them as objects for men and vilify them for having justifiable concerns... yeah that is a laugh. And I'm not even gonna touch on the Apollo plot... you know the one. But when I heard about Lore Rekindled from Dazzling Kate on Youtube, I decided to check it out because I figured a fan version could not be any worse than what Rachel herself created. And holy Hades, I can see the un-to god effort and care this comic has! This is the complete opposite of LO: it has consistent character models with stunning backgrounds and art, the plotline makes way more sense and is easy to follow with no unnessearcy subplots, and the characters actually have separate personalities! I know Lore Rekindled is still in it's early stages, but already it has shown more promise and potential than what Rachel has created in the last six years! This is why ghost writers and fanfiction have a special place in my heart, because they care more about the stories than the authors themselves! Seriously, what you are doing is incredible! I really hope you continue with Lore Rekindled and I will be following the story because you have sparked my interest! It takes a special kind of talent to turn something that an individual like myself loathes, into a piece of work that I can find joy and entertainment in.

On that note, because I really love your story so far, I wanted to ask your permission on something. I have a YouTube channel, it's a small one but I do a bunch of things there like voice dubs, reviews, theorizes, and writing advice. So if it is alright with you, would it be okay if I could do a review of your Lore Rekindled Series and maybe potentially do a comic dub of the story as well? I'll be sure to credit you, I just want people to see this story that you worked hard on.

Ahhh I'm so glad you like it! Everything you mentioned about LO's missed or lost potential was exactly why I set out to make Rekindled, so it always brings me so much joy when people tell me it connected with them, means I gotta be doing at least something right LOL Though I've had to adjust Rekindled's update schedule to make room for other projects and priorities in my life, there's still loads left with it that I wanna tackle.

If you wanna do a review or any sort of video content with it, by all means! DazzlingKate's review took me by surprise (in a good way) because I had no idea it was happening until someone linked me to it after it was posted haha It's a little nerve-wracking sometimes to see it breach outside of Tumblr, but so far all the occasions of such have been generally fair game without any issues so I don't see why not! ~ <3

Thank you again, I hope Rekindled continues to entertain you and bring you joy ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[kalindraancunin]

A Love Dream 

OK GUYS. I HAD TO DO IT. i am not a writer per se (although I am loving it I admit), not a native speaker, nothing, but I HAD to get this idea out, and I sincerely hope you enjoy! ALSO: if anyone wants to continue this story with the much needed smut after, FEEL FREE! Let this be a group Project!

fluffy fluff, feelings, music, classical lore, anticipation for smut (but not there yet), love, desire and philosophical astarion :D

Lúthien is my female moon druid tav with a very rough childhood, one which she tries to heal herself from, with the help of her creative passions, specially music. Honestly if one didn’t knew and disregarded her occasional transformation into animal form, she would easily be mistaken for a full on bard. 

She and Astarion engage in ongoing, very heavy flirting and already slept together two times (before and after the tiefling party), but never talked about feelings involved and struggle deeply to not be the first one revealing themselves to the other 

(Basically two traumatized dumbasses in love).

She lets him feed nearly every night, trying to not show too much of her deep affection and lust for him. He obviously notices, but other than some heavy teasing he didn’t go further in his advances, simply because he, so he tells himself, already got what he wanted: her on his side, fighting for his cause for freedom.

The Piano piece they are playing is Franz Liszt Liebestraum No.3 (or A Love Dream) in Ab flat major ;-)  I found it quite fitting both in melody and storywise!

....

As the sun begins to settle between the trees at the rosymorn monastery, camp shenanigans slowly settled down as well. This was the time where everyone retreated to their own tents, except for one or two left at the camp fire, sipping on wine and telling stories (more so often Gale). Like the night before, Lúthien sat behind the very old grand piano which revealed itself after an unpleasant encounter with some giant eagles two days ago. While their usual loot strolls after the fight, Lúthien almost couldn’t  contain herself when she spotted the harsh contrast of the piano keyboard between piles of dried grass which the eagles used to built their nests.

She insisted they make camp here, as they were too exhausted after the two fights (they encountered some death sheppards before) and asked Karlach to help her set up the grand piano near her tent. „ Ok Soldier, am quite excited which tunes you come up with, I love when you play for us!“ The fiery Barbarian shouted while she grabbed the monstrosity by the keyboard like it was made out of cardboard and swunged it over her shoulders to carry it to Lúthien. She herself laughed, never getting over the impossible strength the tiefling woman provided while also embodying such an easy and happy personality.

„Careful, a grand piano as old as this specimen is most likely very delicate, specially the keyboard!“ Astarion suddenly made an appearance behind the two women, arms crossed, head shaking in disapproval.

„You may be right“ Lúthien admitted, placing her fingers on some of the keys, testing the sound. „ You sound like you sat on one of those before?“ She looks at his face, recognizing his eyes shying away from her gaze, eyebrows frowned as he was caught by surprise.

„ I.. Well, .. I don’t know, really. After all, it must have been 200 years ago.“ His usually silky voice took on an absent, sad tone.

„ Sorry, I didn’t mean to..“ Lúthien felt like her question stirred some uncomfortable thoughts the beautiful man across from her most certainly wanted to avoid. „No, no, darling, it’s alright,“ he quickly responded, his ruby eyes fixated again on her. „If you don’t mind not practicing too loud? I have some interesting literature which I intended  to indulge in peace and quiet this evening.“ He scoffed at her with a little smirk and walked away back to his tent, just before Lúthien could return his teasing with a witty remark she already prepared inside her head.

Something along the lines of …. I could only imagine which „literature“ you are referring too.. never mind. 

As her mind travels back to the present moment, Lúthien shooked her head, trying to get rid of that white haired-seductive grinning-crimson eyed- vampire- elf- man- image in her mind and focussed on the keys before her. This evening, she wanted to focus herself on a particular captivating piano piece she always wanted to perfect, but never managed to. Originally in ab major, Lúthien struggled to remember the correct tonality as she let her fingers sway over the keyboard, only pressing faintly where she thought the tone was right.

„Unsure, darling?“

Lúthien gasped in shock as she suddenly felt the presence of Astarion behind her. „Could you stop sneaking up on me?!“ She turns around, obviously taken aback and met him with a piercing glance, „sorry if I was too loud and interrupted your studies, your heiness.“

„No need bringing royalty into this, although I admit, this title would suit me quite a bit, don’t you think?“ Lúthien rolled her eyes and noticed her ears and cheeks heating up as he sat down next to her on the laying barrel she upcycled as a piano stool, their thighs touching each other slightly. She stared at his trousers and her mind drifted to the strong grip his legs had on her that night…. 

„My eyes are up here, pet.“ She gasped again and wanted to fight his bold assumption (which frankly was true), but couldn’t contain a loud laugh. She looked him in his eyes,  despite her urge to avoid his gaze and was rewarded to see his face lighten up with her laugh. God’s, he was just ethereal. „Ok, ok, i don’t know what to say to that“ Lúthien looked away and at her hands still on the keyboard. 

To her surprise, Astarion placed his hands on the keyboard as well. 

„You know, I thought about what we talked about yesterday,“ she looked at him while he talked and absentmindedly gazed at the piano,“ I think i might have some history playing the piano when I was younger. He started lazily playing an arpeggiated phrase containing c, e ab…“Wait, you know that song?“ Lúthien stared at him with wide eyes, „ I wanted to practice it, as it is one of my favorite piano pieces!“

„ i know, I recognized the melody as soon as you started with the first notes“, his gaze rested on the keyboard, „ I must say, I applaud your taste in music darling , as it is one of my favorites as well.“

And then he started playing. As his beautiful, long fingers danced over the keys, his shoulders and his whole face began to relax. This calm and peaceful expression filled Lúthiens heart up with an immense, deep feeling for the pale man sitting next to her, so much she felt herself almost exploding on the inside. He played the piece so beautifully, carefully distinguishing between the strong, forte parts and the more soft, piano ones. The melody was like a wave he managed to draw flawlessly, so empathetic towards the intentions of each note, she was left speechless. She even thought she was sure she saw a small smile across his lips, while he was caught in the wave of the arpeggio phrases with his eyes closed.

This sight sent shivers down her spine and in that moment she wished nothing more than to be the piano, to be each key he touched.

She knew she loved him, a realization that hit her more calmly than she expected. It was just that she knew and now, she had just said it out in the open, at least to herself in her mind (which was quite the big step for her). 

„ Do you know what this piece is about?“ Astarion looked her in the eyes while playing the last notes, still lost in the melancholy of the tune. 

„I know it is called „ ,A Love Dream’“ Lúthien returned his gaze, eyes big and her whole body flushed, still flustered by her own realization.

„That is correct, dear“, his crimson eyes darted to her face and she couldn’t sit still, so she changed the position of her hands from the barrel to her thighs to the keys again just for the sake of moving some of her body, otherwise she was sure she would just jump at him and kiss him like an absolute mad woman, „ but do you know the whole story?“ 

„N-No“ Lúthien managed to get out. „ You know“, Astarion chuckles, „ its funny how just you practicing three simple notes got me thinking so deep about things I was almost a hundred percent sure I forgot that they existed. And that music, and playing the piano is still somewhat a part of me.. even after all this years of numbness.“  Lúthien couldn’t take her eyes of him and rested her hand onto his instinctively. At first she wanted to take it back to rest at her leg, but in that moment she knew she could stay there. 

„ The story of a Love Dream is obviously about love, darling“ Astarion continued with a slight tease in his warm voice and smirked at her, but without that usual mask, so she notices. „ but about all the ups and downs, and specially, what remains of all the feelings after the beloved has passed.“

Suddenly, he moves closer to Lúthien and grabbed her resting hand more firmly, which she appreciated greatly, as she was sure she couldn’t contain herself much longer. „ But what if-„ he almost whispered in her ear, his face terribly close to her neck and her lips- , „ what if someone finds love after they already died? How would that feel like? If someone were to compose this piece according to this paradox, what would the musical waves look like? The other way around?“ 

He was so close to her face, he looked so deeply into her with his ruby eyes, asking this question with a sincereness she couldn’t take it anymore. She knew he was asking about him, about her. About all of this. What this means he is feeling, as he couldn’t remember he felt that way in two hundred years. She grabbed his neck and drew him onto her lips and they kissed. He wrapped his arms around her back and pressed her onto him so hungrily, but also so gentle.

As they deepened their kiss further and further, already traveling their hands to the other persons clothes, desperately wanting to gain access to skin, Lúthien managed to answer him, looking into his eyes, short of breath, hot and with a big smile : „ I think such a composition would thrive off this paradox, because when the story starts with the deepest of all pain, the most happiness must be what fills the time after.“ He smiled at her back, a clear, honest and genuine happy smile that melted her away for good, „ I would like for us to write it.“ 

[thedragonagebigbang]

Bang Creator Interview: Tumblr: @mortalitasdeeznuts 

The Collaboration period has begun! In these quiet months before works are due, we want to foster a sense of excitement, camaraderie, and celebration among our participants. To that end, all participants were given the option of a formal interview by our mod, Dema, or an informal “ask-game” survey. We hope you enjoy getting to know our phenomenal creators as much as we have!

Interview with Ascindio

Ascindio and Dema talk symbolism in art, the collaboration process, and strategies for constant improvement 

Dema: So first: welcome to the bang! We're about a week into the collaboration period – how is that going?

Ascindio: It's going great! I have a very clear image of what I want to do, just waiting to see if my writer is cool with the idea. The story they've written is wonderful.

Dema: Without spoiling too much, can you describe your idea using 3 words or less?

Ascindio: Disappointment, hurt, chasm. [EDIT: there has since been a pivot! The new words are: almost, chance, tentative. But since we were angsty before we're rolling with it. -Dema out.-]

Dema: MMMMM delicious.

Ascindio: I do so love angst.

Dema: I am reminded of that very gorgeous Lavellan piece you did. What is the strategy you use for conveying that angst?

Ascindio: Ooowh thank you! I loved doing that one. For angst, I wait until I have an idea/feeling that just grips me and I kind of churn it over and over in my brain until I can start to form a visual. I am very much in love with symbolism, so pretty much every emotional piece I do is bursting with it, hahaha. I have to have a very clear idea of what I want to get across.

Dema: Where do you draw your symbolism from? Is it all from the DA lore itself, or are you incorporating symbols from other sources?

Ascindio: Mostly the symbolism is from artistic choices. For example, in the one that you mentioned, she is the focal point, but the frame is much larger than her. I'm trying to show her loneliness and how sometimes she feels small, regardless of how Grand she is. She's an unwilling religious figure, hence the halo.

Dema: The orb halo is SO cool. 

Ascindio: There's more, obviously, but just to give an idea of what I mean. Pretty much every choice I make in the composition is deliberate.

Dema: I love that! And so exciting that you already have an idea for your Bang piece. Do you do many collaborations?

Ascindio: I don't, but I'd LOVE to do more, I looove collaborating and making art with/for others!

Dema: Is this your first Bang?

Ascindio: Yes!

Dema: What about the collaboration process is appealing, as an artist?

Ascindio: One of my favorite things is the challenge of trying to bring to life something from someone else's brain, and then put my own spin on it. I just find a lot of satisfaction in it. It's like one of the best ways I know how to connect with people.

Dema: That's one of my favorite parts of this kind of event, too. It's so fun to relate to the specific visuals of the fic!

Ascindio: Yes!

Dema: Does the timeline feel intimidating at all, or are you pretty comfortable?

Ascindio: The only thing that's intimidating me is that I need to keep it secret for so long 😂 I usually work on a piece for like 10 ish hours over one or two days and then immediately post it because I have No patience lol!

Dema: Oh yes, the secret-keeping is so hard. I understand! But the reveals are SO exciting when they do happen.

Ascindio: I cannot WAIT to see what everyone does.

Dema: When you work on pieces for yourself, especially in long stretches like that, do you have a particular environment you prefer? Any creative rituals?

Ascindio: I just recently set up a new little work station, with a couple monitors and I love it. So I have a rainy fireplace ambience on YouTube going, then I have a spread of inspiration/reference collage app I use called PureRef and I either listen to music or have some tutorials going from an art patreon I subscribe to, and I try to put a new skill into every piece I do. And I paint on a huion using ibis paint.

Dema: That is such a great idea to incorporate a specific new skill or technique into each new piece. Does that keep it fresh for you? Or is the goal just to keep improving?

Ascindio: It is my idea of fun haha, also I am always completely unsatisfied with just about everything I paint. So yes, it's definitely also to try to improve little by little without overwhelming myself.

Dema: I am very sympathetic to that feeling, haha. What was the latest new skill you tried out?

Ascindio: Owh okay so the latest has been working on creating a more harmonious color palette! I've always had a hard time with color theory as I'm self taught and the colors I choose often seem to stick out and draw attention to themselves when the focus is supposed to be something else. So for example choosing a murky white for a white shirt, when in reality a lavender may be better for a specific piece and it will still translate to white without being so Look At Me.

Dema: Ah, yes! I find that color is so much harder in digital art, as well. Maybe because you have access to All Of Them. At least, that has been my experience 😂

Ascindio: Yes, so tempting to say oh a blue shirt, I shall choose a Pure Blue. It is very rewarding to see little bits of progress here and there.

Dema: Yes! Do you have any go-to color schemes, or palettes you gravitate to?

Ascindio: Oowhoho yesss. It's funny you can see my main color palette shift over time when you look at all my pieces in chronological order. Right now I'm very into nature sunset color schemes. For example:

I actually have a Coolors chrome extension, so when I open a new tab it goes to a randomly selected color palette.

Dema: Oooh so very saturated, very warm?

Ascindio: Lots of purple, blue, pink, and green, with a bit of gold.

Dema: Lovely! Thank you for sharing so many great tips and rec's, as well as for taking the time to talk to me today!

Ascindio: Thank You! It was very fun!

[hiccupmistress]

Beware MAJOR spoilers for season 3 of Star Trek: Picard

Something about my Star Trek fandom that I’ve talked about elsewhere but only ever really hinted at on Tumblr is how and when I first got into Star Trek. Strictly speaking, my first encounter with the franchise was when I would have been about 11 or 12, I think. A TV channel was showing a one-per-week marathon of all the Star Trek movies (Nemesis was out by this point, but 2009 was still a ways off). I was too young to really appreciate it at the time, I guess; I have small memories of seeing bits of Search For Spock, Voyage Home, First Contact and Nemesis during that TV marathon, and I liked it, but I didn’t get that into it at the time. I saw the 2009 movie when it came out, but as someone with only a little bit of Star Trek experience, I simply enjoyed it as a summer blockbuster and moved on with my life.

But then around 2011, a friend on Steam messaged me asking if I liked Star Trek - apparently some online game had just gone free-to-play, and the friend wondered if I was interested in trying it out. Since I had a passing familiarity with the movies and remembered enjoying them as a kid, I figured why not and then my whole life changed forever.

Star Trek Online was (and still is) full of so many pieces of lore and information and references to past shows that it utterly piqued my interest and prompted me to start watching all the shows.

As a result of STO being my main introduction to Star Trek though, be it in its original 'Odyssey Class' configuration or its (non-canon) 'Yorktown-Type' refit configuration, the Enterprise-F is "my" Enterprise, in much the same way as those who grew up watching the early movies call the Constitution-Refit “their” enterprise, or those who grew up watching TNG call the Galaxy Class "their" Enterprise and so on. That was the big hero-flagship when I was getting into Star Trek for the first time. There was a point (like a decade ago) in the game where you could go see the Enterprise any time you wanted by looking out the window in the ship requisitions room on Spacedock. I remember standing there and being in awe of it as it loomed over the requisitions room.

I am THRILLED that Star Trek Picard made the ‘Oddy’ canon. Yes, it was disappointing that "my" Enterprise was sidelined after about 30 seconds on screen; we'd known for some time that the Enterprise-F was to be slated for "early decommission" in Picard season 3, and I'd gotten used to that fact, but I wasn't ready to see an Enterprise-G quite so soon. I actually briefly went through the stages of grief over it, not going to lie, but I've made peace with it now.

I look forward to seeing what adventures Captain Seven and First Officer Raffi have on the Enterprise-G (Star Trek: Legacy?), and I'm hoping that at some point, we might get a show, or at least flashbacks, set on or around the Enterprise-F during its prime (maybe Prodigy, since its about the right point in the timeline, as per Terry Matalas and Dave Blass’ lore about when the canon version of the ‘F’ launched).

As much as I would have liked to see more of it in those episodes, the Odyssey Class Enterprise-F, "my" Enterprise, will forever be part of Star Trek canon now and I am so grateful!

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 21: The Answer

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Pieces of a puzzle you hadn't realised you'd been trying to solve come together. And you and Din find peace.

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, canon characters present, Mandalorian lore nonsense, smut's back: vaginal sex, unprotected piv (be safe), touch of edging.

A/N: My hand slipped and the back half of this is just tender filth. Also a lil more lore nonsense, but you've let me get away with that this whole time, so I hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

--

They all seem to have made the collective decision to gather in the training grounds, to debrief and reflect on the battle. Informal clusters of Mandalorian warriors – some with helmets still on, some not – hold amiable conversations.

A small triage and med station takes up one side, though you don’t see many injured. You know some brave fighters fell, and there would be mourning to come. But casualties have been minimal.

With a gloved hand to the small of your back, Din guides you through the crowd, holding a still dozing Grogu in his other arm. You fuss with the hem of your top, cross your arms over yourself to fidget with the shoulder armour. 

You hope what you’re wearing is okay. After pushing your whole hand through the gaping rip in the torso of your leathers, you’d put the garment aside. Dressed instead in a regular tunic and pants combo – having been amazed to find your wardrobe on the Crest still in its storage compartment, untouched. But you had elected to re-clip the leather-clad beskar pieces. To acknowledge them. To show your respect, you think.

A reassuring circle of Din’s thumb on your back has you dropping your arms and trying to settle. ‘You’re alright,’ his modulated voice soothes you.

Individuals pass by you both, acknowledging you with a nod or an arm crossed over a chest. Passing praise and honour for your contribution to this victory. It feels surreal. The two of you come to stop by a few of the pilots who’d flown with you in the final moments of battle. They speak of the glorious fight, more praise going your way. You start to get antsy, uncomfortable with taking credit for feats that had been somewhere far beyond your conscious actions.

Spotting Fennec Shand, lounging against a stack of supply crates, you slip from Din’s side with a murmured ‘excuse me’ and head to her. She sees you approach and turns to face you. 

‘Hey Fennec,’ you say. She nods, piercing you with a keen regard. You cross your arms together and hold tight to each elbow, unsure why you’re feeling so self-conscious. ‘Thanks for uh—Th- thanks for having my back out there. You kept me alive.’

She tips her chin up, then smiles. ‘Just orders I was happy to follow,’ she says. Your eyes widen. 

Orders?

‘Or- orders?’ You don’t think you’ve witnessed her taking orders around here even once. ‘What like,’ you say, reaching for an explanation, ‘Did-- did the Armourer tell you to cover me or something?’

Eyes alight with mirth, they flick over your shoulder as she shakes her head. She replies, ‘I haven’t been here answering to the Armourer, friend.’

You follow her gaze and see Din again, standing where you’d left him and talking with the small group. He’s nodding and gesturing along, but you can tell his attention is trained in on your little conversation. You press your lips together to suppress a smirk. He’s looking so adorably awkward.

You turn back to Fennec, sigh out a long contented breath. Smile to yourself. Pieces of a puzzle you hadn’t realised you were trying to solve slot together, settling a calm over you.

‘Well, uh,’ you shrug, eyes back on her. ‘Thanks all the same. You’re a hell of shot.’ 

Terse as ever, she just tilts her head in acknowledgement. She finds someone else over your shoulder and, just as you turn to see who it is, slips away.

Leg strapped and limping only a little, Ari Wren makes her way to stand flush with you. You look up into her visor. She is among the ones electing to keep the helmet on at present. Like Din. You suppose that’s fair, it must feel alien to be without it all at once. 

She crosses a forearm over her chest and gives you a tiny, reverent bow. Trying not to let your jaw drop too much, you clumsily reciprocate the motion. Before you can say anything, she speaks.

‘You were very brave,’ she says. ‘We were honoured to have you fight with us.’

‘Uh, um,’ you stammer. ‘Th- thanks? Thank you. Thank you for allowing me to help.’

She nods. After a pause, and with a hint of what you swear is a smile behind the beskar, she says, ‘I am very glad I was not dissuaded from doing so.’

Huh? 

‘Dissuaded? Who tried t--?’

But even as she’s turning her helmet side-on, you already know who she’s going to look at. Din now has his back to you, and you can’t see who he’s talking to. But that doesn’t matter right now. You turn back to Wren with a questioning gaze, a slight sheen of tears blurring your sight.

She gives a somewhat uncharacteristic shrug.

‘When he could not talk me out of letting you fight,’ she says. ‘The deal was I would not leave your side.’ 

You’re in awe. He’d argued with Wren about you. You can’t help but grin, contemplating that scene of unstoppable force meeting immovable object.

‘I am only sorry I could not carry on with you to the end,’ she hangs her head a little. You’re opening your mouth to say ‘no, it was my own fault’ but you’re interrupted by someone stepping up beside Wren, looping an arm across her waist and pulling her close. Instead of continuing to try to ease her guilt, you just gawk.

Wren turns to the fully armoured newcomer and, when she speaks, her voice is lighter and happier than you’ve ever heard it.

‘Ah, you have finally arrived,’ she says. ‘The journey was not difficult?’

‘It was significantly delayed, in fact,’ the woman holding onto Wren’s side replies. ‘The ion storm was more active than usual and—’

They continue to talk as you gape at them. 

Seeming to remember you’re standing there, Wren turns back to you.

‘Apologies,’ she says. ‘This is my riduur. She is part of Bo-Katan Kryze’s personal guard, so we have been apart for a while.’

‘Wh—’ you start. ‘Oh.’ You fumble around for something to say. ‘Congratulations…’

What?

Then, in a slow realisation that sends shivers through you-- 

‘Bo-Katan is here?’

‘Yes,’ Wren’s… riduur replies. ‘Lady Kryze made the decision to provide aid but,’ she sweeps a prideful gesture around the room, ‘it was not needed it seems.’

‘Where--?’

You’re interrupted by Din, who mirrors their posture, stepping up beside you and pulling you into his side. He nods to the two of them but leans into your ear.

‘Can you come with me please, cyar’ika?’ he asks. ‘There’s someone we should meet with.’

Fuck, and you know exactly who.

You stammer out a quick ‘I’m glad you’re okay,’ and a ‘nice to meet you,’ as Din guides you away from the grounds.

As you move through the cave tunnels, you try to not worry. Your fretful thoughts are only just kept at bay as you focus on his hand on your waist and remind yourself over and over of the easy way Din’s endearment for you had slipped from his lips. Even with various catastrophic scenes trying to encroach on your mind, it’s helping.

Though you’re still taken by surprise as the forge comes into view.

It’s like a memory, a terrible one. A different time and a different place, but devastating in its familiarity. The Armourer stands by the azure flames talking to another. When she turns to reveal her companion, you recognise the ornate features of Bo-Katan Kryze’s helm.

You freeze on the spot, but Din hasn’t let go of you. He presses his helmet to your temple, whispers, ‘It’s okay, I swear.’

Trust him, you order yourself. He’s not going to put you through that again. Remember his words. Show him you trust him.

So you shuffle your feet further into the chamber, let him guide you to one of the four stools arranged around the Armourer’s small table. The table where you’d sat some weeks ago and watched her work, waited for her to notice you, with the meagre hope that she wouldn’t cut you down on the spot the only thing that kept you in place. 

You hold onto some small hope this time too. 

As you and Din move, the other two occupants in the room move as well. You each take a seat. Like some unspoken signal passes through the three Mandalorians in your company, they make a small ceremony of pulling their helmets off, placing them with reverent steadiness on the slabbed surface.

You don’t look at Din, sitting beside you. Some instinct telling you to keep your eyes on the two women. You glance between them.

The Armourer’s features are neutral, still and focused. Bo-Katan’s, by contrast, brim with emotion. Her mouth is pressed into a thin line, eyes pained but also kind. Even though you’ve met only a few times before this moment, you’ve seen plenty of expressions cross her face. From warm and inviting to caustic and furious. This look is like… it’s like there are a thousand things to say, but nowhere to start.

You know the feeling.

‘Well,’ she starts. ‘Here we are.’

A thought occurs to you for the first time and it’s so alarming to you that you just blurt it out.

‘I hope you don’t take what I did as a sign of disrespect for your people,’ you say, relieved your voice at least stays steady. ‘That’s not why. I just—’

‘We know,’ Bo-Katan says. ‘We know why. Din has explained it.’ She shoots a mordant look to him. ‘Thoroughly.’

She looks back to you.

‘And for my part, I give my apologies.’

‘Oh, o-okay.’ With no clue what to say to that, you settle on, ‘Thank you.’

‘No thanks necessary,’ she holds up a regal hand. ‘In fact, I should be thanking you.’

‘Wh—’

‘I do not think today’s victory would have been nearly as decisive if not for your assistance,’ she rolls over your confusion. Her features turn smug. ‘And you’ve helped me prove a point here as well.’

‘A point,’ you state. Din is staying quiet beside you, but you can sense an intense energy trapped in his stillness.

‘Indeed,’ Bo-Katan continues. ‘Since reclaiming Mandalore, I have focused on forging alliances with others. I believe that while Mandalorians are stronger together, we are stronger still when we do not stand alone. A reasoning that some have, until recently, resisted.’

She side-eyes the Armourer beside her in a way that makes your toes curl. It’s so brazen and so familiar. 

‘But, among other, significant, developments, your actions in this place have contributed to not just beating back the Imperial powers that seek to destroy us, but to bringing us together to grow, and thrive, and live in the light.’

This epic, destiny-laden speech is scratching at your flight reflexes again. But the quietude beside you, the calm stoicism of Din, stays you.  

‘So, the Armourer—’ the leader of Mandalore turns to the leader of this Covert; they hold a long beat of eye contact, energy dancing between their gazes that you feel almost intrusive for witnessing, ‘—Has made a decision.’

Din moves. It startles you for a moment but he only reaches across to lay a hand on your own, clenched in your lap. You release the fist and notice you’re trembling bad. He touches your fingers and gives them one quick squeeze that shoots sparks up your arm before withdrawing. You slide both hands, one now tingling with pins and needles, into your pants pockets.

You’re aware of the heat of the forge washing over the side you have facing it. Its drone the only thing you can hear, somehow louder than before. You smell the tang of hot metal, dust and mildew from the cave’s walls. All your senses are hot and bright as you shift your gaze from one woman over to the other, who sets her shoulders and speaks into the space between you all.

‘The Creed is a mark of loyalty,’ the Armourer begins and you beat back a wild panic. Hold it at bay as she continues. ‘Of commitment to clan and kin, pledging that you will always act in solidarity and to defend when needed. We hold it in our hearts. Always.’

Nodding to you, she says, ‘These are qualities you have shown above anything I’ve seen beyond a vow. By choosing to come here, by standing strong alongside our people, you have forged a trust through iron will and grit.’

You think you might pass out, struggling to draw breath, struggling to think clearly.

‘Therefore,’ she continues. ‘You have earned a place here.’ She gestures at your shoulder, at the beskar plate seated there. ‘When you want it. If you ever do. And the decision to take a vow will be yours alone.’

The two shoulder pieces are heavy and present against your body. But rather than feeling afraid, you feel comforted. Secure.

She gestures at Grogu, who has slowly woken up and is taking this all in with a sleepy curiosity. 

‘And for now, this young apprentice still has much to learn and much to see – to go on travelling with his mentor and father. I would only take it as given that you would travel with them?’

There’s no air in the room, you’re sure of it.

‘But, but the war,’ you say, somehow needing something else to focus on other than the insane thing she just said. ‘Don’t we have to be here for that?’

All she does is give you a tiny tick at the side of her mouth, a smile there. A knowing, ‘I knew you’d say that,’ kind of smile.

Bo-Katan speaks up. ‘The victory here was decisive. But you are right, it is not the end. We don’t know if we have taken a limb or just a hair, but we have made first blood. There’s time to ready for future attempts. In the meantime, I don’t see any pressing reason you and Din should need to stay and not continue this young one’s training.’

By this time, Grogu is wide awake, fidgeting in Din’s arms and reaching for Bo. 

She smiles at him and holds out her hands. Din stands, moves around the table to settle the squirming child in her lap. The kid coos and accepts a scratch behind an ear.

He straightens, ‘Is there anything more?’ he asks. ‘I think- I think we,’ he motions to you, ‘have a lot to discuss now.’

Bo-Katan shakes her head once. Looks between the two of you.

‘Go,’ she says. ‘He can stay with me for a while. You two talk.’

He nods and retrieves his helmet from the table, cradles it in the arm that had held his son. Taking your cue, you stand and back away from the table, knees shaking and heart hammering. With an awkward little bow you instantly wish you’d withheld, and a yearning look to a chattering Grogu, you depart side by side with Din.

It’s only when you’re out in the hallway that you remove shaking hands from your pockets, rub them together to try to settle them.

Halfway down the corridor, you realise you’re aimless.

‘Where, um,’ you say to Din. You’re nervous and hesitant. You feel fresh and raw, aware and self-conscious of every millisecond passing between you. ‘Where--?’

‘How about we return to the Crest?’ he suggests, giving you a warm look that melts the icy shards pressing on your lungs. ‘We can talk there.’

You nod. What a great idea. The two of you step back out onto the former battlefield and make your way across it. He holds you close as you move back toward the ship – toward home – as twilight slips over the landscape.

You sit on the bed and fidget, listening to the hiss of the fresher. Trying to keep your mind occupied. Trying with all your will not to think about him in there. In the steam and the vapour. Water cascading over shoulders, over chest, over his—

Stop it, you think. You’re just gonna talk at first. At all. Just talk.

It had come as a mixture of apprehension and relief when, as the two of you returned alone to the Crest, Din had excused himself to his own ablutions. After the revelations by the flames of the forge, you almost panicked at the thought of being separated, even by a few metres and for a few minutes. Afraid that all of this would wink out of existence the moment you lost line of sight on him.

But it was only fair, he’d just fought a battle and saved your life, you had to let him go. And it gave you a little more time to collect yourself. You’d moved to take a seat in the hold, but he’d shaken his head. Took your hand and guided you to the cabin, made a small plea of ‘Wait here, please,’ before stepping hesitantly away. It seemed like he didn’t want to be far from you either.

Legs pulled up, and back pressed against the cabin wall, you thumb a nervous rhythm on your knee caps. Trying to order your thoughts. The sound of the jet stream cuts off. Heart rate picking up, beating a pattern on your eardrums, you make a list of the things you want to say, the words you’ll use to say them, consider your tone and voice and posture to get it all just right.

To make it all right.

But by the third time you’ve run through your list, Din is still in the little side room of the fresher. It’s deathly silent.

Doubt invites itself into your thoughts. The longer it stays quiet in there, the more time that passes and he doesn’t emerge… an unsettling feeling seeps into your bones. Like this isn’t really real.

Like the past few hours have all just been a fever dream. You aren’t awake. That trooper had managed to empty his blaster rifle into you and you’re bleeding out on the battlefield. You’d fallen from the walker and this is a comatose haze. The Crest had been blown out of the sky and you’re blacking out as it plummets. 

That phase blade is still stuck in your side, draining your life as you imagine what could have been.

All of this, mere wish-fulfillment as you fade away. 

Stop it, you chide yourself again. Stop doing that. You tip your head back and thump it against the comforting solidness of the Crest. Its ever-present hum assures you that this is where you really are. You're okay.

To stave off any more spirals of delusion though, you slide to the edge of the bed and pad to the door of the fresher, which he left a little ajar. Through the gap, you can see the space under the jet is empty. He must be on the opposite side of the wall you lean on.

‘Din?’ you murmur around the edge of the threshold. ‘Okay?’

A long sigh meets your ears.

‘Come in,’ he says. ‘Please.’

You stay pressed against the chilly surface for a moment more, uncertain, before slowly edging around the doorway. Pushing the slider across to make room, you turn to see him. You almost choke to keep back a startled gasp.

Din has pulled his pants up to rest loose on his hips, but that’s where he stopped getting redressed. His broad, hard-muscled upper body is bare, still glistening with droplets of water. They collect in little pools to drip over the lovely swell of his stomach and travel along the V of his hips to land and soak into the waistband that is just hanging in there. 

Dark curls are plastered to the side of his face, the profile of which you take in with awe as he stares down at what he’s holding. In the shock of seeing him leaning shirtless against the wall, you’d missed it.

He cradles his helmet, staring at the dark T and drawing his thumbs across the arches either side.

‘Is- is this…’ you fumble. ‘I can keep waiting outside, s- sorry. I was just worried, is all… Sorry, I’ll go.’

‘No,’ he rasps, almost inaudible. You stay still. So does he, still looking at the helmet. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve kept you waiting.’

As he keeps staring down, the air takes on a charged feel. Waves of an emotion you can’t quite place radiate from the man holding the identity of almost all his life in his hands. 

‘How um, how does it feel?’ you ask, desperate for some reprieve from the tension.

‘It feels…’ he pauses for a long beat. Rolls the precious, meticulously forged beskar item in his palms. ‘Strange.’

Mm, you think. Fair enough.

‘And…’ he goes on, but stops again. He tips his head back to rest against the wall. You watch a thick tendon flex and relax, once, twice… He sighs, closes his eyes. ‘And peaceful.’

Peaceful. That’s a slightly more interesting thing to interpret. You shift your feet.

‘We uh- we can talk more about it? If you want? Along with everything else,’ you ramble. ‘I’m here to listen, you know… And to talk.’

Din straightens.

‘I don’t want to talk,’ he says. You startle, straighten as well and step back a little.

‘Wh- You don’t?’

‘No.’

A hot bolt of dread lances up your spine. You’ve overstepped. Pushed too hard. He’s going to push you away. Oh gods but you have so much you need to say!

As you are losing a battle of wits with yourself – letting panic set in, about to turn and bolt – Din lays his helm with care on the bench and turns to you. Captures you mid-meltdown with his eyes, hooded and dark. Here in the low light, they have just a glint of amber flickering as if all aflame.

‘I don’t want to talk,’ he repeats. ‘I want to kiss you.’

Sensations of wildfire burst in your chest, race down your body, converting from fear to arousal in an instant.

‘Din,’ you murmur as he moves in, takes your face in his hands and tugs you into the room, holds you so close.

‘Can I kiss you?’ he asks, eyes pleading. ‘Please.’

You’re nodding in fury, mumbling ‘yeah, yes, please yes, please,’ words tumbling from your lips when his slide against them, tying and anchoring you to the spot. 

He holds there for a moment, with your mouths sealed together. Shifts one hand to tangle fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, sweeps the other down to your waist to pull you in. He tilts his head and nudges your lips with his tongue, they part and grant entry and he sweeps inside your mouth with the reverence and greed of a mortal tasting the nectar of the gods. 

He groans loud against you, presses deep, teeth an unholy barrier to where he needs to be. You’re lost in the bliss of it, letting him move and explore and take. His naked torso, still damp, heated and hard, ripples under your hands, where you’re just holding on as he devours you. He tilts your head back and drags his open mouth across your cheek, over your jaw. A laving tongue and wiry beard at the column of your throat sends you up in red-hot flames.

You try to moan, to whine or cry out or say ‘more’. But for the moment, it’s a heady paralysis. When he returns to your mouth, tasting you deep, he’s somehow hungrier than before. 

A suck and a bite to your lower lip wakes you. You surge, grip whatever you can reach and taste him right back. You suck in an upper lip and run your tongue along his moustache, the friction of it pulling a deep throb from between your hips. It makes you buck into him, hissing into his mouth as you feel the ridged outline of his erection, straining against the half-fastened fly. 

He pushes you into the wall and grinds back against you so that you squirm and shiver. Your clit is sparking like a charged conduit, ready to erupt any moment. You lift your toes to find better purchase, better connection and Din shifts to lift your knees, lock them at his side and holds you. He pulls back to look at you, panting hard into your lustful features – ruined mouth, eyes blown out. You stare back, at swollen lips and straining neck and shoulder muscles. At a tender, desperate gaze that coils deep into your core. 

You can feel your arousal rushing from every corner of your body to gather eagerly in your lower belly, already soaking through the layers between you. Already so much. 

‘Fuck, love, fuck,’ he rasps. You’re wriggling your hips against him, you can’t help it. Eyes start to flutter closed at the sensation, but, ‘No, don’t you dare. Look at me.’

You drag them open and stare as you both work yourselves into each other, his hips pinning you down. His eyes feeding you with a molten thirst set to rend you apart. At the feeling of your pussy clenching on itself, you cry out. You need the connection. Need it right now.

‘Bed,’ you gasp. ‘Bed, Din. Bed now.’

He hauls you off the wall and strides into the cabin. 

You tighten arms and legs around him, not letting any inch of you lose contact as he crawls on the bed to settle you on your back, looming on top of you. It’s a struggle to work your clothes off, because neither of you want to move or shift away from the other. So you wriggle under him to work your top and bra away, pause for a moment to let your naked chest move against his. Jolts of pleasure shoot through your nipples, growing stiff and needy just from brushing against the coarse hair on his chest.

He’s devouring your mouth again, lips locked and sending simmering ecstasy down your throat and into your lungs while you push and drag and kick at your pants. As you shimmy your hips to get them off, you feel the glide of your thighs being coated in your slick.

His hands roam your exposed skin, sweeping with hunger over your ribs, your belly, shoulders and arms, between your breasts and then across them.

Nipples demanding attention, you push your chest up and Din’s there to suck and nip and graze his teeth back and forth while working his own bottom half free. Then he’s pushing your knees apart with his, opening you for him. As he leans up to brace his arms by your head, dragging his lips and tongue along your skin, the head of his cock just barely meets with your sex. Your cry of pleasure would have drowned out his guttural, animal groan were he not right by your ear, pouring it into you.

He holds himself at your entrance and lifts his head, murmurs, ‘Okay, eyes on me. Eyes on me.’

You’re gasping, fighting the urge to sob. Gods, you can feel he’s rock hard against your trembling flesh. Why isn’t he just fucking you already?

‘Eyes here, love,’ he prompts. You cease your twitching and writhing and focus in on the pitch black gaze devouring you whole.

He seems set on taking his time, and moves his hips to drag himself through your gleaming folds, coating himself, watching your fluttering eyelashes, your mouth twisting in desire and ecstasy. Hardly paying attention to your hands that are pawing everywhere you can reach, trying to pull him in, clawing at him for more. He pushes forward, parting you just a little, and you think, Now, yes! Break me the fuck apart! 

But he draws back, nudges in slow again. Out, back in. Over and over. The smallest bit deeper each time. He works you open for him. He takes his damn time.

This is accompanied by gentle fingers in your hair and kisses everywhere – your jaw, your nose, each eyelid whenever they fall closed, tasting the salt and urging them back open. He’s taking whole seconds to draw his length out, carving back in with an agonising serenity. 

But then he’s finally there. Hips firm against yours, fully seated inside you, pulsing against your stretched walls.

He wraps both huge arms around you – loops one across your shoulders as the other cradles your head. He kisses you tender, moving to nose at your jaw and lick a strip up behind your ear, gnaws at the sensitive spot there, so precise and so perfect it’s like he did this only yesterday.

You’d be squirming more if you hadn’t melted entirely. Dripping with desire just like your leaking cunt.

When he starts to move, he stays slow.

He saws into you, leisurely and thoroughly, finding your inner sensitive nerves each time. Brushing your clit with just a touch of friction to stoke the flames. Your silky pleasure between you becomes messier and noisier with every passing moment. You feel every single millimetre of him, every veiny ridge sliding through your clenching pussy, every single time. 

It feels so good. But it’s just shy of what you need.

‘Din,’ you pant. ‘F- faster, please, please. More.’

‘Uh uh, love,’ he grunts into your ear. His pace remains just as languid even as he finds new depth within you. ‘Not yet.’

You moan. ‘Please, gods, please Din.’

‘Sshh, hush, cyar’ika,’ he slows down even more. You might die. ‘I have a lot to make up for. And ‘m not gonna stop this til I hear it.’ 

Hear what. The sounds are already obscene, debauched. He’s going so deep and each time he draws back it drags more juices out of you. So damn wet now, the mess is all the way down your thighs. Your knees slip against his legs as you try to get more purchase, but his whole body holds you down. You can barely move, only writhe and shudder. Your cunt throbs each time his hips collide back into you.

With a pace and a patience that is inhuman, he takes you, gliding along your body as he holds you close, closer than he ever has. Grips you so tight you might disappear right into him.

‘Pl- please, I can’t take this, want you- to-’ you squirm, move your hands to grasp at his delicious ass, try to tug him down, to make him move more, ‘please, can’t’.

‘You can,’ he moans into your skin. He draws his arms from around you, reaches down to pull your hands from him and snake them up above your head, holds your wrists and somehow, somehow, slows even more, leaving little pauses each time he withdraws. Rolls back in like a low tide. 

That settles it. Your eyes roll back and you are just a well of tortured nerve endings. Pure sensation courses over what was once a person, nothing now but pleasure on the cusp of a surging climax. Suspended over the abyss of love waiting to swallow you down.

‘You can take it,’ he mumbles, near incoherent himself. Thighs trembling as the roll of his hips work out and in, over and over. ‘Take everything I have... giving to you—have all… of it, mesh’la.’ 

A long, strangled whine crawls out of you – so loud it echoes against the Crest’s walls. From where he’s buried his face into your neck, you feel Din smile wide. He presses his exposed teeth to a tender vein and chuckles.

‘That’s what I want to hear,’ he groans and picks up the pace so swiftly you see stars, giving a desperate breathy moan as your release starts a rapid ascent. It’s rushing toward you so fast you might black out.

‘Gods, the feel of you,’ Din growls. ‘So good. Mm, that’s it, hold tight, hold on, take my cock so t- tight.’

He lets your hands go and grabs your hips to drive harder into you. Fingers dig into your ass where he finds purchase. Every muscle in your body goes rigid as a seismic wave of static electricity courses from your cunt to all your very edges. It’s all too overwhelming, too overstimulated, but you swear a second shockwave follows before the first even ebbs.

You try to catch a breath but he has no interest in that. He pushes up, leans away and, without withdrawing a single inch, reaches back for your ankles and has them up by his ears. With this angle, he snaps his hips forward and you scream – pierced with this whole new depth within you. He’s going to new places, taking you there, finding it with you. Letting you have it all.

‘Huh- uh—’ you say. ‘D—!’ His thumb finds your clit and you’re gone again, just like that – lost in a white hot bliss. 

He steadies his thrusts, fucks you through cascades of sensation. When you can drag your eyes open, the walls of the cabin are gone, edges fuzzy. It’s just you and him. 

You stare up at him, fucked out. With a feral scrunch of his nose, his tempo quickens a little, watching you cry an ‘ahh’ and bite your lip at the feeling. He leans toward it, drawn down to your mouth even as your calves press into his chest and your thighs push back into you. He grinds into you the whole time, and, once your mouths meet again, fucks you even deeper into the bed.

There’s nothing for you to do but hold on, bury your hands in his hair and pull him into you – his tongue in your mouth, hands bruising your thighs, cock ripping you wide open.

As another devastating orgasm swells and crashes over you out of nowhere, he shrugs off your legs in a hurry. Boneless, they hit the mattress with a soft thump, drowned out by his aggro grunting. He withdraws almost entirely from you, but stays notched at your soaked entrance. Din reaches a hand between you and groans low, hisses a harsh breath. You open your eyes to see him looking down, a furious look of concentration on his face. You follow his line of sight.

‘Oh god,’ you gasp, staring at the space between your joined bodies. ‘What are you doing?’

He pinches hard on himself, throwing his head back in relish. Neck cords strain and stand stiff, the hollow of his throat dipping as he pants.

‘St- stopping… myself…’ he spits out. ‘Don’t want to… don’t want to end this, yet.’

‘Oh shit, oh shit, Din.’ 

‘Ssshh, uh- pl-’ he withdraws and kneels between your legs, shoulders heaving as he huffs harsh breaths. You watch, alight with renewed lust. Watch this god of a man stop himself from cumming all over you. You feel spent, but he doesn’t want it to end, so you just breathe deep as well and wait.

When he’s ready, he looks up at you with a primal starvation that’s almost frightening. He reaches an arm behind to take up one of your legs again, but this time crosses it over the space between your bodies, carrying it through. He moves the hand to your hip to guide you over onto your stomach, then crawls over you again.

You arch your back to meet him and, once the connection is found again, he slams into you. The self-restraint of before is gone. The patient torment now done with. He pistons into you with desperation in every grunt, every moan, every strangled utterance of your name.

He shoves a hand under your hip to find your tenderised bundle of nerves, presses into you. Fingers slip in the mess of you but he makes it work, circling and holding – he doesn’t even have to try as you surge and fall over the cliff again and again. Each time you think you’re done, sure he’s wrung you out and drained everything you have, he finds it again.

‘Good, you’re doing good. Almost there,’ he mutters and your body sings. ‘I know you have more.’ He cranes his neck until he can reach your mouth with his again, drags tongue and teeth together. And he’s right, you do have more. Somehow there’s always more.

Time has lost all meaning when his hand finally goes limp where it’s pinned under you. He loses rhythm and slams into you with complete abandon. You find enough wits to speak.

‘Thas it, beautiful,’ you mutter into his mouth. ‘It’s yours, Din. It’s yours. That’s it. This pussy is yours. It’s for you. Wanna feel you. Din. Fill- me- please!’

And though your body has been ablaze for what seems like hours now, you feel it, a fresh heat erupting inside you. Hot and heavy pulses of cum fill you with hard thrusts as Din’s strangled cry shifts to a low rumbling growl, to whimpers and stuttering breaths – cycles back through again to settle on a long hum of bliss. 

He keens and mumbles tiny ‘oh, oh gods, oh’ into your ear as he comes to stillness.

You bury fingers into his hair, pull his face into yours so you share your panting breaths. Senses beyond what’s been raging and screaming between you creep back in – the chill of your sweaty skin, the hum of the ship, the coarse blanket. A stiff neck and a twinge in your hips. Maybe the slightest taste of blood – did you bite your lip too hard or did he?

But it’s still mostly him, mostly his eyes boring into yours and his warmth the thing you feel most. You blink lazily at him and together, you smile. 

--

Din watches the walls come back into focus as he eases himself from you, flops onto his back and nudges and tugs at you – totally boneless – until you’re tucked into his chest. He’s wondering if you’ve passed out already when a gentle moan and a breathy laugh make him shiver.

‘Good talk,’ you whisper. He huffs a laugh himself, pulls you closer. You hum. ‘Still got more I want to say though.’

‘There’s time, my love,’ he murmurs back. ‘We have time.’

He does feel you nod off then, with a soft affirmative ‘mmmm.’ He lets you rest – in awe of you and how you’d taken everything he had to give. Didn’t hold back, just let it all be yours. 

When you stir again a little later, you share a silent look of agreement to head back. It’s probably well past the evening meal by now, even though it had only just been slipping into twilight when you first entered the Crest. But he can tell that you want to see Grogu, spend some quality time with the child. Time that hadn’t presented itself just yet. 

A quick return to the fresher is necessary though, and Din guides you under the lukewarm spray. He cleans you from head to toe, gentle with your bruised thighs and spent sex. Though he can’t hold back, while on his knees and running a cloth through your folds, from leaning in and stealing a taste. He revels in your gasp, your tiny whines, the little motions of your hips as he sweeps his tongue over you. Feels the rush of bringing on your release yet again. All for him.

He also can’t hold back, rising to his feet again and cupping your blissed out face in his hands, from searching your features and seeking to clarify just one crucial thing.

‘Are we good?’ he murmurs.

You smile, hold his face right back and assure him, ‘We are so good.’ You kiss him and he drinks it in, happier and more at peace with every passing moment.

The water runs cold and you wince, hiss and hop about as he shuts it off. It’s one way to come back to reality at least. 

Dried and dressed and draped into each other’s side, you make your way out of the cabin and through the Razor Crest.

The warm light of a venerating Covert hovers on the near horizon. Up above, shooting stars blaze across a crystalline black. One flares so bright it reflects in the restless currents of a dark sea. Across a scorched but tranquil expanse, two figures walk a leisured pace as an old, weary gunship looks on.

--

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Next chapter is the Epilogue * cries in Mando'a*