#i don't think i've ever been there and it's kinda boring once you're there anyway

[nitw]

come to denmark we have the entire region of kalos from pokemon

[sourbites]

Can I request a Kirk smut!! Friends to lovers kinda thing. For instance yall are smoking weed at your place and feeling a bit insecure about still being single and he makes a move on you???

Can't Tell You Why

thank you for the request! this was a lot of fun to write. i chose to write this imagining early 80s kirk, just to really amp up that clumsy love that friends share. hope you enjoy :)

The tip of the joint crackles, embers glowing as you coax smoke down into your lungs. The atmosphere in your bedroom is thick, smogged with smoke and giggles. There's soft rock playing in the background — some band Kirk chose.

"You're avoiding the question," He laughs, all love-me-tender brown eyes and crooked white teeth. You're both having fun, he's teasing you, you're teasing him. But still, you hesitate, exhaling smoke from your nose thoughtfully.

"I don't know," You wipe one hand on the front of your jeans. "I've only done it, like, once. Wasn't that fun, either— we were in this tiny car, and there was so much bumping around."

You twist on your bed, leaning up against the wall. Kirk moves, too, leaning his weight on a hand. "Once?" He repeats, surprised.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think I've been around?" You laugh, although there's some discomfort at his reaction lurking around in your mind. His mortification catches up with him two beats later. Eyes wide, laughing nervously along with you.

"I didn't mean it like that," Kirk exhales, smoke floating and swirling around the both of you. It hazes everything up: the light from your lamps scatter differently. Shadows look hesitant. He mulls over how to explain himself, self-conscious as he adjusts his position again. "I— I just meant, that you," He swipes a hand over his face, groaning in embarrassment through those hesitant chuckles. "You're smart, and— and real pretty. And charming enough to get anyone you'd want, so— I dunno, I mean, I'd..." He trails off. He speaks unintelligible nonsense for a few moments, before trying again. "You get what I mean." He concludes.

"Do I?" You take the joint from him. Something within you makes you feel sick with a feeling you wouldn't like to meet.

Kirk, ever the conversationalist, gives you an eye-roll. "So who was he, anyway?" He gestures to you, his index and middle finger steadying the shrinking joint.

You shrug. "Just a friend of a friend. I already told you."

He didn't say anything after that. Just hid behind his curly bangs, working his fingers into your bedsheets. Honestly, you're unsure why you even entertained this conversation. It's not like you'd find camaraderie within Kirk, not these days— tons of women want his attention. They want to taste his plump lips, hold his baby face, and kiss the crease between his brows when he frowns. You want to claw this bitter taste from your mouth. Gut the barbed vines in your stomach. As cool as you want to present, it isn't the most brag-worthy thing. Your first and only time being a half-baked hookup in some cramped-ass Ford Pinto? Get out the confetti. Your train of thought became an internal train wreck.

"Well," Kirk begins to roll another. "Where would you rather it happened?" Just briefly, his brown eyes glance up at your face to read your expression.

"Where else could it happen?" You ask no one in particular, voice hushed and ironically smoky in your fogged-up bedroom. You hum thoughtfully, picking at the thin rolling papers sprawled out on your bed. "Is it boring if I say a bed? Nothing else I can think of sounds appealing."

For some reason, you're allowed first drags. Pouring over you, Kirk lights the fresh joint between your lips. "Not boring at all. It's a classic for a reason, real nice when it's done right." He speaks easily, shrugging slightly. He's trying to soothe you. His smile makes your insides twist— and you enjoy it, in some macabre way. Teeth vibrantly white against warm lamplight and fuzzy shadows and black curls. You want to eat his mouth.

"Right." You sigh. Smoke billows from your parted lips. "I suppose you have? Done it right?" You're not sure why you ask that. You just want something to say. Preferably not about your (totally lacking) sex life.

Finally, it's Kirk's turn to bristle hesitantly. Easing his nerves, you pass him the joint.

"I've had some good nights, yeah." His answer is guarded. Your eyes glitter. What's he hiding? You nudge his side with your knuckles.

"But...?" You invite.

Kirk watches you for a moment or two, concluding you won't let this go. "But," He echoes, nudging you back. "I wouldn't say I've done it right."

"Why not?" You lean in. Drinking up the smoke that rolls off of him. You can smell him in the air, too, smoke-smouldering something spicy and musky.

He tilts his head to see you better. "Can't tell you," He whispers, grinning, wholly contradicting the inviting way his body slants to indulge you.

"Kiiiiirk."

Sigh. He's giving you the eyes. The eyes. Round and big, brown eyes so sparkly that they disarm anyone he's gazing at. You lean to him, attentive as a statue. You could soak him up if you wanted to; you're that close. Discarded smoke, already exhaled with all that high-inducing goodness soaked up, swirls around the both of you, murky white tendrils making you want to sway with them, beckoning you to move. Speak. Breathe. Live.

"Ideally," He shifts again, wanting to reshuffle his atoms. "Ideally, it'd be a bed..." A warm palm brushes your wrist and sneaks the joint from your fingers. "With you..." Your heart pauses. You stare at him, bewildered. "And me..."

What. The. Fuck.

Kirk takes your silence as a sign you want him to keep going. One hand cups your cheek, so tenderly you're tricked into thinking you're made from glass. "C'mon. How many more hints do I need to drop?" He coos at you before taking a much-needed drag of the joint to ease his own racing heart.

The funny thing is, you've hoarded his name in your throat for months. You didn't realise he had been holding his own breath for you.

Why? Out of everyone— you?

Kirk runs his tongue over his teeth, getting antsy. Softly urging you, he brushes the pad of his thumb along your lower lip while you just stare at him, amazed. You watch him from beneath your eyelashes as if he hung the stars in the sky. It comes again: the longing. The desire with no name, because no one has yet given you the language to speak it in.

Wordlessly, you draw his hand into yours. "That, um. Sounds nice." You reply, with what limited cohesive brain cells you have left.

Testing the waters, Kirk brushes his lips against yours, his breath mingling with your own. And it's hands down the most intoxicating thing you've ever had— you want to swallow it down in handfuls. Your eyelashes flutter again, and you almost feel drunk. He holds your cheek with clumsy, gentle fingers. He puts a heat in you that you didn't think was possible. And it feels so unfathomably perfect to feel wanted.

It's slow. Gently, you gravitate towards Kirk as if you're floating. Your mouths connect with a little more certainty this time. He laughs softly against your mouth. There is no better taste than that, you decide. Someone's honeyed laugh on your tongue. You're dizzy— should you feel dizzy? You want this feeling to stay.

Restless, he abandons the joint in the ashtray. With both hands in use, they swipe over your back, worship your thighs by the handfuls, winding and sewing roots in your hair.

"Can I take care of you?" Kirk whispers into the edge of your face, right underneath your chin. His mouth- wet and wanting, marks the uncharted territory of the soft underside of your face with a slow, hot kiss that ripples through you, reshaping you into something with an emptiness that's hurting to be filled. His tongue is laving wet and dripping with eagerness, building a taste for your skin as it glosses his spit down your throat. He tilts in to suck below your ear.

"Fuck, Kirk. Yeah— yes." You stumble out, nodding, your hips squirming in their cage of your jeans. You sweep your aching palms along his back, mussing his curls. He tucks your earlobe between his teeth, grazing the bluntness of his front teeth slowly along your skin. His breath sends chills down your spine. He grinds both hands beneath the waistband of your jeans, reading your mind.

He's aching to get a taste of you. The softness of your inner thighs swath around his head, dark curls rasping against your skin. His hot mouth is drinking you up through your panties, nosing into your pelvis. He wants to breathe as many 'I love you's' as he can into your skin, he wants to rake his tongue against your slit, lick your cunt open. Kirk can tell you're soaked— arousal drooling through the fabric that covers you, teasing him with the cock-hardening punch of girl flavour that he loves so much, seeping along the edge of his mouth.

Your underwear is thumbed off, his face shoved right into your cunt, and yet you still want to steer him by the shoulders and pull him closer. He takes slow, indulgent sucks on your quickly throbbing clit, that snowball into big, broad licks, tongue flat and mopping up your slick from bottom to top. He sinks two fingers into you, each pump straight down to the knuckle, creating crude squelching noises with the purest, stickiest arousal simmering within you. It's all burning hot, hot, hot.

Kirk swoops down again, filling his starving mouth with what he thirsts for: your leaking pussy. His cute nose is smooshed against your pelvic bone, and every dirty lap of his searing tongue forces your hips to scatter restlessly and yanks a whine from your throat. He's wild and heartache and sin, and it leaves you reeling from his every touch, every curl of his fingers and every relentless, starved suck of your clit, until his cheeks hollow.

"Can't believe I went so long without this," He groans with lusty delight, releasing your aching clit with a pornographic, wet pop. He kisses your parted entrance, tips his head down and spits on your slit. Whatever honey-soft brown was left lingering in his baby-love eyes has been devoured by total blackness, glimmering in delight as he watches his work of art, your soaked, spit-slick sex. He goes back in, shoving his parched mouth onto you, sucking in a fold, nipping the other, thumbing at your throbbing, swollen clit. He wants to eat you whole. Every salacious lick of his neverending tongue thunders within you— your cunt, tight and hot and so adored by Kirk's divine mouth, squeezes of arousal building within you until they morph into full-body trembles, your abdomen clenching and un-clenching, taut.

He glances up at you, dark eyes glittering behind his curly bangs, eyeing the heave of your tits with each tremoring breath. He touches you where hands simply cannot. His thick tongue eagerly tastes your heat: flesh, sweetness, salt. His cock is bursting against his too-tight boxers. You roll your hips against his mouth, chasing every lap of his tongue, every brush of his calloused hands. Softly, he becomes endless in you, and the searing pleasure he paints for you becomes explosive. Your volatile hands fist into his hair and yank, grinding down against his pretty face as gasps block your airways. He's drinking your soul - stuffing his mouth with every morsel of your worship-worthy pleasure.

You wail through the orgasm, something deep within you awakened and booming; how you survived him, you don't know. Your cum, sticky and warm, ebbs down Kirk's plump lips, smearing on his chin as he laps you up, thumbs spreading your cunt open to ensure he's licked every part of you clean. Even then, the impish flicks of his tongue do not go unappreciated.

To get him to stop his (wonderfully feeling) assault on your cunt, you peel Kirk away from you, a hand in his hair and your other palming at his shoulder. "How'd," You breathe, stupefied, "How'd you learn to do that?"

Kirk hides behind his curly bangs as if he has the right to get coy after gorging on your pussy so filthily. His teeth, white and charmingly crooked, glitter as he grins flusteredly. He wipes his mouth of spit and slick with the back of his hand. You feel a pang of emptiness without both his hands somewhere on your overheating body. "I, uh, I have a thing for it, I guess."

Great. You sigh, lost for words.

"Can we keep going?" You murmur out, gingerly pressing a warm palm to his worn-soft denim jeans, which are all warped and taut from his hard bulge.

Kirk's hands, all slow tenderness to soothe you, cup your cheeks, fingers sweeping into your hair. He lays a kiss on your lips with his own hungry mouth, kissing away at your senses. "Of course, beautiful."

His bulge swells right beneath your pussy, your orgasm simmering away and dirtying his denim jeans. Handsy with it, he palms off his belt and throws his jeans and boxers somewhere in your room. You let one of your legs fall open while he scoops up the other, forcing your thigh high up his waist, his palm sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. He sinks inside the molten ache of your eaten-raw cunt. He kisses you into oblivion at the sight of his thick cock disappearing within you.

The odd thing is, it all feels so easy. You're choked with the sincerity of the moment. Kirk's hands are devoted worshippers, thumbs stroking along your skin where you tremble, holding you where your thigh and hip meet, cradling you. Weightlessly, and yet with heavy limbs, you lay into the bed. You're full of paradoxes tonight. Light, heavy, friend, lover. They're all the same.

Your hands glide up his taut biceps, sliding down the slope of his back, tracing along muscles and bone. You hook him in, keep him close. Kirk's biting down on his lower lip, his eyes lidded, fluttering at the dreamy feeling of your dripping cunt clenching down on him in searing hot pulses. You shift your hips a little— you can feel his cock smushed into your cervix. Kirk groans low near your ear.

This hot, fulfilling fullness seems to seep deeper and deeper within you, endless. With a hitching breath, Kirk's hips withdraw, taking his body-hot heat with him. Until it pours all over you again in waves, easing your abuse-swollen sex, his thumb dipping down to gather the sopping wetness of your slick, cum, and his drool, and stir it around your puffy clit in full circles. All while he takes you in long, eager strokes, delicious friction causing your hands to skirt around his shoulders, putting a cramping, throbbing, ache in your hips.

You shudder, going tight around him. Kirk presses his face where your shoulder meets your neck. You can feel his baby face, sweet cheeks and plump mouth, those fawn brown eyes of his squeezed shut. Those charming features on a man who is fucking you with so much impeccable spirit that you're surely driven crazy with every rock of his hips, snapping up to wallop into the tenderly sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Every wet sound of his mean cock scraping the velvet insides of your aching cunt draws sobs out from deep within your stuffed-full belly. Your heart feels like a bass pounding in your ears, surrounding you with so much noise, every throbbing thump causing your breaths to shake.

Tangled bodies feel like they're cooking with all the hot friction between them. It smoulders, threatening to ignite— as if the hazy smoke of your social chainsmoking wasn't enough to put you in an awestruck daze. You clench your teeth, scraping your nails up the hollow of Kirk's shoulder blades, your own back arching off the bed, (which he uses as an excuse to get another gropeful of your ass) while he works your throbbing clit even harder. You want to squirm and writhe, but that'd disrupt the gorgeous rhythm of his cock. He drags himself through your wound-tight pussy, sloppy, indescribably thorough whacks of his pelvic bone right on the beginning of your slit.

You forget who's air you're breathing. Or if you're breathing at all.

In carnal screams that scratch up your sore throat, you murmur something akin to more more more don't stop, Kirk. Please. Kirk. His pace stumbles, landing right on his high while you're already curling around him, nails anchored in his skin, cries spilling from your lips. You squeeze around him with so much zeal that Kirk quite literally cannot move for fear of splitting you in two. All epic highs have lows, however: you scrape your hands down, tracing where your cunt oozes out your climaxes, feeling the boiling heat settle down, watching Kirk's glistening cock withdraw from you.

Everything feels suspended. Mid-air, hanging on the edge of something. Maybe it's longing. By some phenomenal stroke of luck (maybe it's your lucky day), the joint you were sharing is still lit. Kirk takes a long drag, exhaling against your clammy, bare skin. His mouth reaches your shoulder, and he kisses it with that pretty, insatiable mouth until you feel faint.

"Fuck," You take the joint he offered to you. Although you're not sure that this moment can get softer and warmer. "That was definitely better than my first time."

Kirk grins at your words, grunting quietly as he lays beside you, guiding your splayed-out hair away from your neck. "Just you wait. That was just a warm-up."

[soundwave-is-far-superior]

For your consideration: Shock with a Human S/O who is on all accounts accept one a perfectly rational and normal person... how ever, the second StarScream enters the picture they are going so far out of the way to annoy the piss out of him. Just the most annoying sibling-esque torture their squishy human body can thrust upon the unfortunate mech and Shock just has to kinda sit there and either endure it or intervene... which inevitably has Star boasting or the human complaining in one manner or another. Or both.

A/N : Hello and thank you for requesting this! I don't know whether I should make this a story, headcanon or something else, but I'll make the hcs first and maybe the story? :D Anyways, enjoy and I hope this is what you want! </3

Can you not be more annoying? [Shockwave x human!S/O ft. Starscream HCs]

Warning!! : nothing. Just pure fluff and crack with Screamer being Screamer, Shockwave being Shockwave, and you being you. Except a little bit too sassy for your own good. Mentions of affair (?).

- It was another normal day with you and Shockwave. As usual, you're standing on the other table, watching your beloved scientist do his work and other stuffs you're too bored to even ask what is it.

- Shockwave is very busy, yes, so most of the time, it'll be either you try to talk to him and he answers as best as he can, or just pure silence and you'll be bored to death. But the former happens almost everyday.

- Almost, not like every single day. Sometimes, you wouldn't talk to Shockwave at all, even if he's free and not doing anything.

- He gets concerned over this so quickly. I mean, why is his Conjunx won't talk to him? Isn't he's free now? Why is she so silent in all of a sudden? Why did she asks Soundwave to groundbridge her to the Nemesis?

- All of logical scenarios and possibilities running through his processor in miles. Every scenarios are worst than the last, and he's starting to worry even more. One dare to say, paranoid. Is she... having an affair? No, no, no. She wouldn't. After all, you love him, right?

- Right?

- Because he doesn't want to have the illoical and negative thoughts consuming him, he comm-links Soundwave to open groundbridge for him to Nemesis.

- "Soundwave, I require a groundbridge to Nemesis."

- Just with that, a groundbridge opened, and Shockwave doesn't hesitate to enter it in an almost too hurried movement. Once on Nemesis, he speaks to the TIC with his usual monotone voice.

- "Have you seen [Y/N]? She was not telling me where is she going."

- The TIC then paused for a moment, and shows a camera recording of [Y/N] getting carried by Steve and there's also Starscream.

- "She- went with- Steve- and-" Soundwave uses cut off recordings to form a sentence and he points towards your direction, "Starscream." he states, using Megatron's voice clip.

- And oh boy how Shockwave is even more worried. Why on Cybertron did you choose to be with Steve and Starscream? Where are you going? What are you doing?

- Wasting no time, he immediately thanks the TIC properly and head towards your direction. On the way there, he's thinking so hardly on what to say if you are indeed on an affair. Is he so bad as a lover that you betray him?

- Getting inside the room, he finds you sit on a table with Steve and Starscream standing near you.

- His assumptions and thoughts quickly replaced with dumbfounded look and mentally facepalm.

- There you are, talking at Starscream about this and that which makes the said mech groans in annoyance and tries to counter your sassy remarks.

- And Steve just watches in both amusement and slight sweatdrop. Steve be like : 😅

- "Why are your eyebrows like that? You speak about yourself so high, but how can you do that with how weird your eyebrows are?"

- "First, they are not 'eyebrows'. They are called optic-ridge or optical ridge. Second, they are not weird! I've been built like this and-"

- "You mean, you're born with permanent high-heels and weird eyebrows? Poor you! I sometimes wonder how you can even walk with such stilletos on your feet."

- "Oh Primus-"

- Honestly, Shockwave is happy and very relieved that you don't have an affair, but he's slightly annoyed that you chose to annoy Starscream rather than to entertain your own Conjunx Endura.

- So, he's just standing there, and after some time, he speaks up.

- "[Y/N]. I have been looking for you. Why did you leave without telling me?"

- He asks in his usual monotone and emotionless voice, but you knew better. You're sure that he's annoyed and jealous because you spend time more with other mechs that aren't him.

- "I'm just having a nice talk with Screamer here. Nothing else." As you nonchalantly say that and lean towards the wall, Starscream can't help but groans in annoyance and speaks,

- "If insulting and annoying me is what you called 'nice talk', then I'm very disagree with it! Seriously, Shockwave, your human is so insufferable! Take her away from me!"

- Well, Screamer doesn't even need to order the scientist, he already scooped your smaller frame on his servo as he nods and leaves with Steve and Starscream leaving as well after he does.

- Once inside your shared habsuite Shockwave rarely uses, he tries to scold you, which you just brush it and walk away so nonchalantly.

- He sighs, knowing full well there's no use in trying to speak to you. You'll just act nonchalant.

- After that incident, you kept on bothering Starscream. The SIC always boasts about it and complain, all the while you're still asking sassy stuffs and still giving him sassy remarks.

- "For the sake of Primus, these are not-"

- "Not what? Not my problem?"

- "Oh Primus- why are you still here?!"

- "Should've ask that to yourself."

- "You weakling-"

- And Shockwave very much just watches the two of you. The other one is complaining and boasting, and the other one is also complaining and boasting about it.

- Starscream has tried multiple times on countering your sassy remarks, but he never succeed. In fact, you somehow managed to reply all of his counter words, and it left even Shockwave himself surprised.

- "How about yourself? Why are you so weak and have a very short lifespan? Don't you organics are parasites?"

- "How about yourself? Why are you too coward and too bold for a Decepticon? Us humans aren't like you, even though our lifespan is short and we're so weak, we're useful."

- "[Y/N], sweetspark-"

- May or may not be interested in your ramblings with Starscream, but Shockwave can add his own thoughts and sassy remarks, although not as mentally painful as yours, but it's clear he learnt a lot from you.

- Starscream is very unfortunate though, having now one more addition of someone who will throw sassy remarks and questions at him. He prays that Steve can help him, but the said Vehicon is also learning from you.

- What a life for you, Screamer.

- And what a cute, sassy nature of you, [Y/N]. Even if Shockwave only listens to your sassy remarks all day long, he doesn't mind. When it comes to you, his organic Conjunx Endura, he'll do anything.

❄️

🍫

Do not copy my story! Tag if inspired! Transformers and all its related characters are trademark of Hasbro. All rights reserved.

@sereneisstillhere

@andauserene

[hard-core-super-star]

searching for redemption [K.Bishop]

pairing: switch!kate bishop x bottom!reader x top!kate bishop

summary: a multiversal anomaly grants you and your girlfriend the opportunity to explore some of your more...intense desires.

warnings: pure smut -> minors, don't you dare interact with this [selfcest + threesome; kinda dubcon at the beginning 'cause R doesn't know it's another version of kate; slight degradation/humiliation [other kate is mean but in a good way]; strap-on sex [kate receiving]; cunnilingus [R receiving]; both kates are technically service tops but shhh; there's an element of tease and denial but it's sort of a background thing]

wordcount: 3.4k

a/n: this is quite literally the filthiest thing i've ever written so proceed with caution. this is a request/lowkey commission from a very lovely anonymous person so shoutout to them for all their ideas. i'm definitely not going to drop a link to my buy me a coffee for anyone else who might be interested. anyways, thank you for your support, i'll go back to writing pure fluff soon...maybe, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You should've known something was different about your girlfriend the second she stepped foot in your shared apartment.

She had left early in the morning, mumbling something about Yelena and how the blonde was insistent on forcing her to have an actual training routine. Your complaints about it had been swallowed up by your exhaustion so the brunette was forced to leave since she couldn't come up with any excuses not to.

Needless to say, your day had been boring so, the second you heard the front door open, your mind was filled with the excitement of your girlfriend being back home. Excitement that didn't let you focus on the way Kate slammed the door shut behind her or the mumbled string of curses that followed.

“Well, what do we have here?”

The sound of her voice makes you smile and you turn to look at her over your shoulder. “Thought I would surprise my girlfriend with her favorite food. I would’ve gotten pizza but you always end up giving all your slices to Lucky.”

You catch the small roll of her eyes before you turn your attention back to the stove, turning off the flame before Kate distracts you and you burn the boxed macaroni…again.

She doesn’t reply immediately but you write it off as her being tired and nothing else. Until she speaks up again in a tone you’re not used to hearing from her.

“Fuck. You're perfect.”

“Is that you or your stomach talking?”

“Neither.”

You're about to ask her what she means when she crosses the space between you. Her hands grip your waist, pulling you backward until you collide with her body. The food you had been preparing gets forgotten the second you feel a certain hardness rubbing against your ass.

“You missed me that much?” You tease.

You’re expecting one of her usual responses. Maybe a whine or a witty comment or a barrage of kisses across your shoulders.

You don’t get any of that, though.

Instead, you get her calloused hands groping at your chest through the fabric of the worn-out band tee you stole from her closet. “Don’t be a brat, baby.”

The words are something you've only ever heard as a joke, a playful jab that never lands since you both know Kate’s the real brat. But today, they slip out of her mouth without a second thought as if she’s said them, and meant them, a thousand times before.

“Says the one ignoring my fantastic cooking skills.” You push back against her hips, expertly grinding against the strap-on hidden inside her pants and earning yourself a groan from her parted lips.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be complaining,” she mumbles.

Her hands leave your waist and all at once, she’s turning you around and pushing you up against the kitchen counter. You attempt to tease her again but she’s far quicker than you are.

She instantly leans in to capture your lips in a borderline desperate kiss as her hands explore your waist. You're no stranger to Kate's arousal-filled desperation, and you can't judge her since you're the same way sometimes, but there's something different about it.

Some underlying darkness that you can't quite place.

“Kate-” You attempt to pull away but she doesn't let you get far.

She ignores your half-formed moan, choosing instead to deepen the kiss while she hooks one of your legs over her hip to erase the already non-existent space left between your bodies. Her actions are unexpected but they only serve to fuel the gathering arousal in your underwear.

You’re too caught up in the feelings she creates inside you to hear the sound of the door opening again…until you hear a very familiar voice.

“What the fuck?”

You jump away from the archer only to find yourself staring at Kate.

Well, two Kates.

You briefly wonder if you’re dreaming but the remnants of Kate’s hands on your body feel far too real for any of this to be a dream. Which means you’re staring at not one but two versions of your girlfriend.

Versions that seem to be engaged in a very serious staring contest.

“Is this another one of Wanda’s little tricks?” The difference in her tone of voice is suddenly obvious. “‘Cause it wasn’t funny the first time.”

“What? No. I’m me…and you’re me…and you’re hot?” The way the brunette stumbles over her words confirms your suspicions.

You’ve been making out with another version of your girlfriend.

And you can’t find it in yourself to be too upset about it.

Clearly, this other version Kate doesn’t mind either. She steps away from you, her arms crossed and a single eyebrow raised. “Why do you sound so surprised? Have you never looked at yourself in the mirror?”

Kate’s eyes widen and you can make out the soft pink hue that spreads across her face. Her hands are balled into fists at her side, almost as if she’s ready to defend you from this other version of herself. “y/n?”

You know what she’s actually asking of you but you can’t stop yourself from adding fuel to the fire. “Well, you are hot.”

Your girlfriend stares at you like a fish out of water while her other self bursts out laughing. It should be weird and yet you find yourself smiling as if the fabric of the universe didn’t somehow rip to create this moment.

“See? This is why I love her.”

Kate’s flustered and slightly nonchalant attitude disappears instantly. “Hey, she’s my girlfriend.”

Her possessive nature can’t be stopped, not even when her only competition is literally herself.

“Excuse me, your girlfriend was enjoying everything I was doing.”

Her comment leaves you breathless and, unfortunately for all of you, your girlfriend knows exactly what that reaction means. It means the other Kate isn’t wrong. And the knowledge instantly sparks a reaction in your archer.

“Shut the fuck up.” She shoves the other version of herself and while the act isn’t technically aggressive, it prompts the other archer to respond the same way.

Their shoves turn into a, somewhat pathetic, attempt at fighting with each other. They’re somehow the exact same person which means every punch is anticipated and blocked accordingly, leaving them both to stumble toward the nearest wall while they try to outwit each other with increasingly illogical insults.

The sight is more entertaining than strange and your next words fly out of you far too fast to be stopped. “You guys should just kiss and make up, it’ll be faster.”

The smirk you receive in response gives you a clear idea of which Kate is currently being held against the wall. “I told you she was into it.”

Your archer reluctantly lets go of the other one, turning around to look at you, a weird mix of surprise and longing in her eyes. “You think we should…what?”

“I’m just saying,” you reply with a shrug. “What’s the use of fighting with yourself anyway?”

Kate stares at you, mouth agape, while her variant shoots you a wink over your girlfriend’s shoulder. It shouldn’t be hot but you learned a long time ago not to question the things you find attractive about the archer.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never thought about it.”

“Thought about what?” Those eyes you love so much leave you as she waits for a response from her double.

“Kissing yourself.”

You have to fight against yourself not to laugh at the look that crosses your girlfriend’s face. “Excuse me?”

“Is she always this stubborn?” Kate rolls her eyes before pushing herself off the wall and approaching you again. The way she moves tells you there's a plan hiding inside her mind and you already know you’ll go along with whatever she wants.

“Don’t you already know the answer?” You reply, accepting the hand she holds out for you and jumping down from the counter. “You’re the same person.”

“Right again, darling.”

Your girlfriend’s intake of breath reaches your ears right as her variant pulls you in close. What you’re doing borders on insanity but you don’t care. Some experiences are worth losing your mind over.

She wordlessly checks in with you and the second you nod, her hands tangle in your hair and pull you into until there’s no space left between your lips. You know you should feel weird about what you're doing, maybe even a little guilty, but it’s impossible to deny the connection that runs between you, even if you’re different versions of the person the other one loves.

You almost expect your Kate to voice her displeasure and kick her variant out. But of course, that doesn’t happen. Because no one in this room can’t say they’re not more than a little curious to see where things go. To see how far they can go.

Kate pulls away from you, her lips pulled together somewhere between a giddy grin and a knowing smirk. It’s striking how different she seems to be despite being the archer you know and love. “Glad to see we’re on the same page, baby.”

“y/n?” The archer’s voice is barely audible over the pounding in your chest. “I…do you…is this what you want?”

You meet her eyes, both of you searching the other for any signs of discomfort. The only thing you find though are the very obvious signs of your girlfriend’s growing arousal. So, you nod. “Yeah. If you’re okay with it.”

“I…I mean, yeah. I think I am.”

“That was fast,” Kate’s variant teases. “Did watching me make out with your girlfriend turn you on that much?”

The answer is more than clear but the slight catch of her breath gives her away far too quickly. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

A few seconds of tense silence go by before you all collectively spring into action. It’s, admittedly, a mess of hands and lips but the three of you make it into the bedroom together. You lose track of who’s who until a pair of rough hands push you down onto the mattress.

Kate attempts to follow after you but her double stops her before she can get too far. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I, uh-” You watch as your girlfriend does her best to pull herself together. “Where do you think?”

“Nice try.” She pulls Kate against her body and you’re given a front row seat to the subtle expressions of pleasure your archer tries to hide. “You’re not going anywhere yet though. We have to give your girlfriend a good show.”

You have a pretty good idea of what she means and yet nothing could have prepared you for the real thing.

Your thighs instantly clench together while you watch the other Kate’s hands trail underneath your girlfriend’s shirt. The fabric in the way stops you from seeing much but your girlfriend’s body and the feeling of her skin in your hands is forever ingrained into your brain.

“What-” Her words get caught in her throat and all that comes out instead is a breathy moan.

“Do you ever stop talking?” The variant’s words slip out in between groans, her hips sliding back and forth against Kate’s ass. “Just let yourself feel good, I know what you want.”

You watch, entranced, as Kate’s lips trail a path down your archer’s neck, slowly coaxing her tense shoulders into relaxing as her head tilts back. “You…are way too sure of yourself.”

It’s impossible not to laugh at her words, mainly because you’ve said them at least a hundred times and she never believes you. Your amusement is shared by the other archer and she shoots you a small smile. “Maybe…but I’ll bet anything you’re already dripping for me.”

The words aren’t technically meant for you but your moan tangles with Kate’s. In all honesty, you’ve been dripping since your little makeout session in the kitchen and your clit throbs so hard, you’re sure a mere gust of wind would be enough to make you cum. It really would be so easy to slip your hand-

“No touching, sweetheart. Be a good girl and wait for us.”

The thought of having to wait more than a few seconds is unbearable but there’s no way you’ll disobey this dominant version of your girlfriend. You’ve always had your suspicions that Kate holds back her rougher side around you and this, strange and unexpected, meeting merely confirms your thoughts.

You’re tempted to beg just to see what reaction you’ll get out of both of them.

Instead, you groan and position your hands above your head, gripping the pillow hard enough to leave nail marks in the fabric.

Your own struggle leaves you unaware of the storm brewing inside your girlfriend. A storm full of unspoken desires and a need to get her hands on something.

The position she’s in makes it hard for her to even attempt to fight for control but she tries anyway. Hesitant hands reach out behind her to blindly run her fingers across whatever skin she can find.

“I told you it would feel good.” Her other self murmurs against the flushed skin of her neck. “I know everything you like. I know all the spots that drive you wild.”

“Please.”

Your girlfriend’s slightly whiny voice forces you to focus again. Unfortunately, the sight you focus on merely serves to drive you further toward the edge of desperation. “God, will you just hurry up and fuck each other already?”

Your words make both versions of the archer halt their movements.

Two pairs of wide eyes stare you down but while one looks flustered enough to turn into a puddle on the floor, the other one regards you as if you're her next meal. It's dizzying and pleasurable all at the same time and you know the squirming of your legs gives you away instantly.

“I see you still haven't tamed your brat.” Kate rolls her eyes but there's far too much excitement on her face for the action to be believable. “Too bad I can't deny her anything.”

Time somehow slows down and speeds up at the same time.

You're still left neglected on the bed but the two brunettes finally start removing the many obstacles in the way. Your girlfriend gets turned around easily and you're barely able to keep yourself together when she works up enough courage to kiss the other version of herself.

Surprisingly steady hands reach out to tear away at shirts and clumsily pull at pants.

It feels like both an eternity and a second until they're both standing naked in front of you and you're panting just from the sight of them. Your patience is finally rewarded when your girlfriend climbs on top of you, hushed murmurs of how perfect you are getting lost as her hands explore your desperate skin.

“Kate,” you moan, your hands reaching out for her.

“I know, baby, I'm getting there.” There's the slightest hint of a tease in her tone but it comes more serious than you've ever heard it from her. You don't know what being physical with a variant of herself has done to your girlfriend but you don't really care as long as she’ll finally give you what you want.

What you want comes in the form of four hands pushing and pulling at your clothes until you're left vulnerable under both of them.

The sight of your drenched folds makes them both groan but it's your archer who moves first. “Fuck, y/n, you look so good like this. All mine to play with.”

The more dominant of the two merely smirks, content to watch while Kate trails a path of kisses down your body.

“Please.” This time, you're the one who begs and your hands instinctively wrap around the archer’s as she holds your legs open.

She doesn't say anything in response, she merely leans in and lets her mouth explore your wetness. There's nothing new about her motions but there's a certain confidence behind them that you've never seen before.

Your girlfriend, usually slow and gentle, instantly attaches herself to your swollen clit, her tongue flicking relentlessly against your sensitive bud.

You're too lost in your own pleasure to notice the movements of her variant…until you literally feel Kate moan into your cunt.

It's hard for your eyes to focus but once they do, you're left bucking your hips up and clenching around nothing. You watch through wide eyes as Kate’s variant thrusts into her soaked pussy, strong hands gripping her hips while she fucks her at an equally relentless pace.

Holding your head up is a challenge but you manage, unwilling to look away from such a tantalizing sight.

You whine when Kate’s lips detach from your clit and it takes no time for her other self to grip onto her hair and push her face down into your cunt. “Fuck her like you mean it, Katie.”

Whatever response your girlfriend had fades away as you messily grind against her face. She wastes no time in giving you what you need, her grip tightening in an attempt to keep you still.

There's no way for any of you to stop yourself from squirming and grinding into each other in some way and the room quickly falls into a continued chorus of grunts and moans.

You can hear the sound of the other archer’s voice but you're too far gone to make out the words she says.

Kate isn't though and the mix between being praised and degraded makes her clench around the strap buried deep inside of herself. Which only prompts more humiliatingly pleasurable words from lips that are basically identical to her own.

“Fuck, this is what you needed, isn't it? To be fucked so good you're forced to give in to all those nasty thoughts in your head? It feels so good, doesn't it, Kate?”

Hearing her own name in her own voice while she's being pounded into by herself feels far too good not to admit it. And the sounds of pleasure that escape her lips push you right over the edge almost instantly.

“Kate!” The archer’s name is the only warning you can give before you slam head-first into an earth-shattering orgasm.

“Fuck-” Both Kates respond at the same time as they're both pushed over the edge by different things.

Your girlfriend falls apart the second she feels your release soak her chin and the sight of both of you completely fucked out beneath her causes her variant to crash into her own orgasm.

You're sure you blackout for a few bliss-filled moments and when you open your eyes again, you're greeted with the sight of your girlfriend sprawled out on top of you, her heavy pants lightly tickling your skin.

You turn your head to the side and find her variant, panting just as heavily beside you, her hand clutching yours, the toy covered in your girlfriend’s release still attached to her hips.

You're in the middle of forming a plan to get your hands on her when she speaks up. “That was…wow.”

The sound of her voice makes your archer lift her face from your chest, a wide grin on her face. “You can say that again.”

You hate how well you know her because her features give away the words she’s not willing to say. “You want to leave, don't you?”

Your voice is a hoarse whisper after all the loud moaning you've done but they both hear you. There's a beat of silence, two sets of eyebrows furrowing, and then your answer.

“Yeah…I just…I don't know how I got here but I need to get back home. To you…my version of you.”

She looks genuinely apologetic and you would laugh if you weren't so tired. “I get it. As amazing as this was, this isn't your home.”

“But feel free to come back anytime,” Kate says, completing the other half of your thoughts. “You, uh, taught us a lot.”

“Mmm, did she? I think we already knew you were full of yourself.”

“Yeah, but she made it literal.”

Your girlfriend gets a chuckle out of both you and her variant but it's not enough of a reward for her.

It happens in the blink of an eye but suddenly Kate is sitting up and pulling her other self into a rough kiss, her hands tangled in her hair and her teeth nipping at her bottom lip.

The sight is somehow more attractive than the first time and all three of you are left breathless once they pull away. Giving Kate the satisfaction she was looking for.

Her variant leaves, once she manages to pull herself together again, and you and Kate, your Kate, stay in bed for a while. There's an unspoken understanding about what she's discovered about herself but she finally speaks up after a while.

“So…do you think we can try bondage next?”

“Yeah. I honestly always thought you were a little vanilla in bed.”

Your response earns you a glare…and an overachieving archer who goes above and beyond to show you how wrong you truly are.

[silverzoomies]

Ok so I've been a fan of Evan since days of future past came out. Like, the day it came out. I saw the premier or whatever it's called in theaters so DUH I LOVE QUICKSILVER SO MUCH 😞😞 anyways I know you're not taking requests but like I'm a little bit chubby (this is relevant I swear) and I CANNOT stop thinking about Peter and reader! being in a serious long term relationship, but they haven't gone all the way yet. Like, heavy make out session? Yes! Peter getting painfully hard during said make out session? Check. Make out session turns into peters desperately grinding, letting out the neediest little whines. Absolutely. Him definitely busting in his pants at readers! breathless little moans? Every. Single. Time. Never all the way though. He desperately wants to bone but he's willing to wait as long as he wants to because he thinks reader! doesn't want to, but they're just as desperate as he is but scared of what he would think because they're chubby. During one of their heated.. laundry day inducing make out sessions one thing leads to another and reader! ends up telling Peter why they haven't wanted to go all the way, and Peter proves to them he doesn't think that [;)] and talks reader! through it the whole time.

YOU DONT HAVE TO ADD THIS TO YOUR REQUESTS OR TURN IT INTO A FIC IF YOU DONT WANT TO. I just had to share this with somebody and OBVIOUSLY because you're one of my favorite writers I had to come to you with this (hi I've sent u a lot of messages 🎀) and since you're another huge quickie fan I thought you'd enjoy this :3 SORRY IF THIS WAS SUPER LONG OR IF IT DIDNT MAKE SENSE I'm mad at typing sometimes smh

helllooooooo anon, my lovely !!! i love you so much !! forgive me, i haven't written in a while !! i tried my best to make somethin' out of this because it was such a cute idea !! i hope a headcanon list will suffice !! also, please don't ever apologize for sending me long asks. i'm not kidding when i say they make my day, i love them so much !!

headcanons || peter maximoff x chubby!reader

to preface, i think we should consider some key things about our speedy goofball

peter’s a mutant. he knows exactly what it feels like to be alienated for something he has no control over

second of all, the guy’s a little bit of a weirdo

i legitimately doubt he would judge, or think less of anyone for something as superficial as looks

seriously. If he vibes with you, and you’re patient enough with him - you’re sexy as hell

it’s as simple as that, sorry. just bein' honest

so what if you’re a little thicker? he can’t get enough of you

he’s so addicted to you, in fact, you’ve got him trippin’ a little bit

like, he’s kinda goin’ cuckoo

the two of you make out a lot. so much. it’s like you’re glued to one another. any free time you have together usually consists of hanging out, and making out. not that he’s complaining

it’s definitely awesome. and it feels totally great. he does this freaky thing with his tongue that makes you squirm under him every time 

and the way you whine into each smooch - oh, man - you have him longing to get even closer

make outs eventually turn to dry humping. it’s kind of humiliating the first few times...

...since the grinding always seems to end with him busting a load in his jeans. and he whimpers too much...jeez...

but you always praise him for it, which never fails to turn him on even more

things get so heated between the two of you, escalating so often - peter finds himself confused

like…why haven’t you let him…y’know…

once or twice, he hints he wants to go down on you. and there’s no way you misread his signals. he’s pretty blunt about his needs

but you’re always so reluctant. you feign ignorance, or try to distract him with more intense kisses and pretty moans

peter’s never been a patient guy. the fact that he’s willing to wait this long for you says a lot. like, shit…he must really really really like you

but even now…fuck…he’s so worked up. he’s getting a little too bored of being limited to smooching

like, c’mon…do you think he’s ugly or something?? does he smell?? what’s the deal??

he never considered you might be self conscious. his brain doesn’t really operate like that. he’s all impulsivity and living in the moment

in the midst of making out, his hands travel where they don’t usually dare to go. he takes confident chances, fondling your tits over your clothes. but just as things heat up, you redirect his attention again

his blood almost boils. he’s way too hard for this, aching to get closer, and you’re just…gah! why’re you holdin’ yourself back? 

at last, you confess…you’ve been self conscious the whole time

ah

why didn’t you just say somethin’ before? peter tries not to laugh at how silly you sound. obviously, he’s super attracted to you. why else would he spend all his free time with you, tryna get up close and personal?

as things finally move forward, he dials up the sweetness a few notches

and damn, the wait for this was more than worth the uptick in laundry days (thanks to one too many nuts busted in his boxers)

he covers every last inch of your gorgeous body in kisses, as you let him shed you of your clothes

his masculine hands are more gentle than you expect

unclothed together, he doesn’t hesitate to get as close as he possibly can

you’re soft and cozy, and his body is like a furnace

months of pent-up desire leave him so horny, he can’t hold back anymore

through it all, he’s quick to remind you how much of a fox you are. peter teases you with his tongue in ways you never imagined possible. before rocking your world, flowing with the motion of the ocean

and by that, i mean…you bone. balls deep. hellz to the yeah

embarrassingly enough, it ends just as soon as it starts. but as usual, he recovers fast. and his endless stamina means he’s willing to go at it for hours

which he does. until you’re so exhausted, your limbs are like limp noodles. whoops...sorry about that !!

say...uh...no chance you'd wanna go another round, is there?

peter hopes you’ll be more up front with him from now on. so he spends less time dreamin', and more time goin' at it 🤍

[shimmeringpinksunflowers]

Prismo the WishMaster as your boyfriend

First off, just a fact, chillest dude in all of Ooo

Like, if you guys broke up (not that you would, but-) he would be the kinda guy you would actually be friends with

Because he is confined to the time room, dates are limited

A lot of indoor dates; home-cooked food, board game nights and, of course, watching movies (or alternate realities on his TV)

The man always has your favourite snacks at hand (and most other things for that matter)

Honestly, your presence brightens up his day

Like, he could be having the most boring/hardest day at work, but you sending a quick check-in text really makes his day

Once you two start getting more serious, I can see him using his powers to spoil you (which probably is a violation of the rules, but oh well-)

Oh, you saw a dress you wanted that was out of your budget? Magically in your closet

You wish you could style your hair a certain way? Bam, new doo by the morning

There's a book you're dying to read that hasn't been released yet? it's now on your bedside table

on that note, with your consent, I think he would like to use his powers to play dress up with you, as long as you're both having fun, and it's not just you treating him like your personal tailor

And as nice as it is to have a cosmic sugar daddy, please reassure him that you like him for him, and not his powers.

Like, this man deals with crippling loneliness, you gotta let him know that you're there for him too

Maybe you can't give things to him like he gives you, but you can be there to listen to him vent or just say sweet things to him (COMPLIMENT THIS PINK STRING BEAN)

This man loves your praise

he barely gets enough recognition for his job, so please tell him you love him and that he's a sweet boyfriend

you automatically get an invite to all of his parties (but understands if you don't want to go)

if you make him anything home-made, dude is going to treasure it

like, he would make a whole ass room just to put the things you give him in it

Has defiantly used the pick-up like: "if everything around me is a dream, then you're the most beautiful thing I've ever dreamed of"

Guy can be suave in his own dorky kind of way

He also likes cooking for you

he does it with zero powers, he just wants to make something for you

his cooking isn't always the greatest, but he does get better over time, you just gotta stomach it for a while til his trial-and-error phase ends (spoiler alert: it never does)

And, this goes without saying, but he makes you pickles

one time he made a special batch for you, with a note that said 'for my sweet pickle'

He's also tried to write you a song on his banjo

he's got spirit and it's the thought that counts anyway

I also see him having the love language of quality time (He's in a time box, I don't think he has much of a choice)

If you stick around long enough, he will give you a guest room

He will occasionally ask you for feedback about his stories

oh, and it's totally obvious when he's written characters that remind you of you two a little *too* much

If you are a writer or an artist, he would love to know all about your stories/OCs

or if you're a creative at all, would love to know more about your work

Super supportive (again, will use his powers to get you the most expensive materials)

If you guys are serious, he will introduce you to jake, assuming you didn't meet jake earlier at his parties or just because Jake just dropped in to say hi

Has defiantly told Jake about you at some point

So when you introduce yourself to him, Jake defiantly embarrasses Prismo about it

"Oh, so this is the girl you've been telling me all about?"

you guys have a dinner planner. It avoids having the same talk about what to have for dinner every night

After some time, he does decorate his time room a bit more

It's still minimal, but now there's a plant and a bookshelf or something

Is the kinda guy that's shy about dancing and singing, until a few drinks, and then he's doing karaoke like it's no one's business

Not the kind of guy to raise his voice

like, even if he was mad at you, would never do that. i see him responding in short sentences if that's the case

He's a god, you're a mortal, y'all definitely have existential conversations

But he's also so chill that they never feel depressing

Even though the relationship may be a bit strange to navigate because of the whole God/Mortal thing, you wouldn't have it any other way

He may be a God, but you are his Heaven

This is my first time posting headcanons like this, hope you all enjoyed it. If you want more or have a specific scenario you want me to write about, don't hesitate to ask (I'm always looking to sharpen my writing skills)

[misc-obeyme]

I have so many thoughts. SO MANY THOUGHTS.

Spoilers for Lesson 20 under the cut.

From a storytelling standpoint, Lesson 20 was kind of underwhelming for me. It was kinda boring.

Everything is totally resolved and then we have a party? And MC is given the completely pointless title of Devilsitter? And the Celestial Realm is just like yeah okay see ya.

Seriously, Diavolo? Everybody knows you just made that up. Also why did they have to give him that goofy hat? I think this would've been a little more impactful if he'd been in demon form, you know? Anyway...

It felt like we went through all of that for a whole lot of nothing.

It also feels like they want to tell a more complicated story and that's why this whole separate app situation began. But then they were like well we wanna keep some of the overall vibe, so it still has to have seasons and the first one still has to be twenty lessons. Like they should've just scrapped that and let the story play out how needs to. Because I felt like they were just putting filler in there so that they could extend the Nightbringer part of the story into the next season.

All that aside, though, there were things I did enjoy about the lesson, mostly involving the usual character shenanigans.

Sometimes it really feels like Simeon is just always on the outside, longing to be part of this family. He loves them so much he's willing to sacrifice his own standing to help them, but he also knows he's not part of them. We already knew this of course, considering he does exactly that in the OG to make sure MC gets to stay with them. I just feel like Simeon is so selfless. And it's kind of heartbreaking? I just want to hug him.

And oh, my sweet precious Barbatos... if you choose him to escort you, he says some amazing things.

YES. TAKE ME. I'M READY.

Is this the fancy butler way of saying I love you? Don't misunderstand, I am so soft for sweet kisses to the back of someone's hand, but if you think that's gonna cut it, sir, I really need you to try harder.

What can I say, I just want Barbatos to profess his undying love. I want him to break his butler persona and spill his heart out. I want him to actually tell us exactly how he feels and what he's been through and how hard it must have been to live the way he has for so long with the power of time and space at his fingertips. Ugh. Okay, sorry I'm getting off track here. We already know I could probably write another couple of essays about Barbatos aside from the one I've already written lol.

I would be remiss if I didn't talk about Solomon in this lesson, too...

I thought this was an interesting reaction from him when MC asks him to be the brothers' ally. Like yeah, obviously not against the human world, but this was about keeping the brothers in the Devildom? I'm trying not to read too much into it since it could just be that they wanted to make it seem like MC was the one who convinced everybody and stuff. Like okay whatever!

But truly the best Solomon moment was if MC chooses him to give them the "special emblem."

SOLOMON. My stupid wizard loving heart can't take it when you say stuff like this!

And then the forehead kiss, I was just like this is so soft and sweet I'm losing my miiiiind.

What can I say about it other than it was great? Of course I went back and chose all the options. Having Diavolo or Lucifer give you the emblem is pretty sweet, too. But there is just something next level about it being Solomon because of the whole master/apprentice thing, but also because he's the only one who knows what you're really going through. I just really love him, okay?

Lastly, I have to say I was a bit surprised with Mephisto in this lesson... he's starting to grow on me.

Mephisto! I'm pretty sure that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!

For once, I agreed with him. Also, if it was actually me, I'd be like your arguments are pointless because my last dance is going to be with Thirteen.

I was expecting a little more after the end credits, but it was just a repeat of those weird Nightbringer lines from one of the earlier lessons... I can't remember which one it was. I was really expecting Nightbringer to make a final appearance, but nope.

The hard lesson completely blew my mind, though. I have to make a separate post just for that.

In the end, this lesson had some good parts, but it definitely just felt like filler because they needed to end the season. We're not getting any real answers until next season, apparently. I swear if I have to wait for a season three for some decent answers, I will be flipping tables.

Of course, I'm really just here for the hot anime characters so... I'll just go back to simping as soon as I'm done table flipping lol.

[astarionancuninswife]

symphony (bard!tav x astarion)

My first official fic for BG3 and this was a fun one to start with!! The song that came on shuffle was Cody Fry's I Hear A Symphony - Live From Ocean Way Nashville. The first thing I thought of was a bard playing it, so that's what I went for. Kinda short, but a little drabble never hurt anyone.

Like I said, this is my first BG3 fic and therefore my first Astarion fic. I've privately written him recently, but this is my first public release of my interpretation of him, so I'm sure there's some discrepancies in his characterization. That being said, I'm always open to hearing constructive criticism, just be gentle with me.

Please enjoy!

word count: 840

warnings: N/A unless sweet sweet fluff is something you're wishing to avoid... or if you don't like real life songs being used in fantasy settings lol

ao3 | guidelines for requests | masterlist

It was just like any other night at the camp, a strange mix of people forced into companionship by unlikely circumstances minding their own business. Shadowheart sitting in thought at her tent, Wyll making conversation with Karlach about their adventures of the day, and so on. Tav is sure the others are doing interesting things as well to wind down for the night, but she isn't too concerned about them. Instead, she sits by the fire, pretending to simply be staring off into space as she strums her lyre idly, but in truth, she's watching a certain vampire across the way. He's reading a book like he often does. She's not sure of what the contents are, she's not interested in it anyway. 

She stops her hand for a moment and starts thinking of the song she had composed a few nights before and just hadn't been brave enough to share until now. It was rare for the bard to be nervous; her pieces usually were just silly little ditties made up on the spot about something funny that happened while out with a small party of her companions. Those didn't warrant a fear of criticism. 

This, however, was different, it's fully written and memorized. It's special, it's a song with a specific muse. And she's not quite sure how this muse will react when he hears this pseudo-confession.

After some thought, she softly begins to sing with her eyes closed, "I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along," she takes a breath to steady her shaky voice, "Now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you," she finally opens her eyes with the last word, immediately meeting Astarion's through the flames of the fire. She can't quite read his face, but when can she ever? He's pretty good at keeping his thoughts tucked away from any detection when he wants unless she uses the tadpole connection to enter his mind. She would never though; she understands the need for privacy and consent with everyone, but especially with him.

So, instead, she begins strumming her lyre and continues her song:

With simple songs, I wanted more, Perfection is so quick to bore, You are more beautiful by far, Our flaws are who we really are,

It was then she saw recognition on his face, a smile threatening to grace his lips. He was holding back, but she was fine with that. The corner of her lips become upturned as well, she's more than happy to smile for the both of them at the moment. She stands up, finding her usual confidence again at his acknowledgment. And all at once, in her mind and in this moment, it is just her and him alone in the camp. No one else exists to her.

I used to hear a simple song, That was until you came along. You took my broken melody, And now I hear a symphony.

She does a few vocalizations to fill the gap between the last stanza and the outro, all the while never taking her eyes off the pale elf who has given up on keeping his lips from forming a smile on his face. 

And now I hear a symphony.

She strums a few more notes before ending the song, standing there by the fire with a stupid lovesick grin. She watches as he walks over to her while clapping a few times, "What a beautiful melody," he compliments, "I wonder who could have inspired such a poem."

Tav laughs at his theatrics, rolling her eyes as her cheeks heat up, "A mystery," if he was going to tease her, she'd play the game as well.

"Well, whoever they are, they must certainly be quite special to you."

"He is," she says, her voice filled with nothing but honesty, "I hope I'm even a fraction as special to him…" she trails off, looking at him softly before becoming self-conscious of her implications and looking away.

Astarion is quiet; it takes him a moment to realize how vulnerable she's being in the moment, how honest and open. A soft smile takes form on his lips again before leaning to kiss her forehead, "More than just a fraction, darling, much more," he says gently, just loud enough for her to hear.

After a few seconds of blissfully staring at each other in silence, clapping can be heard from another spot in the camp, followed by Shadowheart quietly scolding Karlach for ruining the bard and rogue's sweet moment. Which is then followed by the others all figuring out who won the bet of how long it would take for one of the two to confess having actual feelings for one another and who would be the one to make the first real move. (Lae'zel won both, plus a bonus prediction of how Tav would confess, though it wasn't much of a surprise considering she carried an instrument around like it's a necessity in life she can't live without.)

[monalovesstarsz]

Maybe we could

Genre: Non idol au and idk what else to say 😭

Pairings: Shy sick sunghoonxchronic illness shy y/n (I clearly don't know how to do this)

Summary: Y/n starts to spend a lot of time in a hospital due to her health and its super lonely until she meets sunghoon and they agree to try their best to live as regular teens.

Warnings: uhh I'm not totally sure but illnesses, thoughts of death, hospitals, depression, mentions of death (probably)

Not proof read 🙈

Chapter 2

"Uhm uh-Hi Sunghoon!"

'shit' you mentally cursed. You have never met him ever but you just said you just said his name. Why would you say his name oh my gosh!!! No way no way you had just messed up so hard. Had he known you had been following him all this time? No right? You're thoughts were interrupted by his voice

"Uhm hi it seems like you were struggling with that ?" His index finger pointed to your wheelchair. You knew he was tall but this was the first time you saw him standing up. He had always he sitting in his chair. As bad as it sounds you didn't think he could walk.

"Ohh yeah I um haven't really mastered how to use a wheelchair, My nurse wants me to learn how to use one on my own but I'm kinda tired so" you ended your sentence with a shrug.

"Ohh I can take you back to your room if you want." He smiled awkwardly again.

"Oh no you don't have to it's okay!!"

"No it's fine I insist"

"Okay thanks."

"So uh how did you know my name?"

So close. You were so close to your room. You almost made it before he had asked that question. Quick come up with something and excuse anything!

"Oh I-uh I well.. Oh! Giselle is my nurse and she something about mentioned you!!" Not smooth at all but it was okay he seemed like he believed you.

"Ohh she was one of my nurses but what did she say?"

'shit'

"Oh uhm she said that you and I were alike because we're both shy!" Not smooth once again but he believed you once again.

"Oh she told you that? I guess I can be sorta shy sometimes."

After he said that you guys had made it to your room.

"Uhm thanks for taking me back to my room oh and sorry for bumping into you earlier."

"Yeah it was no problem I don't have much to do anyway, and don't worry about earlier I couldn't get it at first either. Oh and I never asked your name?"

"Oh I'm y/n! And uh if you're as bored as me would you like to hangout with me in my room?" You don't know how you got the balls to ask him that but you did and you didn't question it. If he rejected your hangout you would switch hospitals for sure though.

"Yes I would like that haha" he showed off his smile and this time it wasn't an awkward one.

"So how old are you? You don't look older any older than me?" Asked sunghoon after sitting on the couch that was attached to the wall under your window.

"mhm? Oh I turned 16 this this year what about you?"

"Ohh we're both 16! But I'm about to turn 17 so I'm your elder." He giggled and teased you.

"Yeah yeah but we're the same age so it doesn't really count" you shrugged

"I'm still your elder though so yes it does."

"Okay fine" you said while you teasingly rolled your eyes

"If you want I can try to teach you how to maneuver a wheelchair. I didn't get it at first either and it gets pretty tiring."

"Oh yeah you should please I really need it."

"I could tell."

You shove him jokingly and rolled around in your wheelchair.

"I can drive it but I just can't turn that well."

"Oh that's tricky but I can show you how to later."

"deal!"

"How long have you been here Y/n?"

"Ohh it's been about three or four weeks, but I'm supposed to stay for awhile. What about you?" You saw sunghoons eyes gleamed as you said that.

"Oh I've been here for about almost 7 years. I moved here from south Korea when I was about 10 years old"

"mmm so you've been here for awhile then"

"yeah but back then I wasn't always spending most of my time here.I was a figure skater and im pretty good at it too!"

"Wowww an actual figure skater? Ive never met one before!! That's literally so cool dude you have to teach me some time!"

"Okay okay sure bro" he said the last word teasingly and you couldn't help but let a little laugh out.

"But only if you teach me how to draw as well as you." You figured he had seen your drawing book that was on your bed and the page was flipped onto your last drawing which was of two butterflies flying around together.

"Okay sure dude!" You had emphasized the last word.

You guys talked for two whole hours after that and about the most random things. You guys shared a lot in common but we're two completely different people. After that you heard a knock on your door

"Come in." You yelled quietly.

Gisellse walked in with a tray of really really bad hospital food.

"Hey Y/n it's time for dinner- Oh Heyy sunghoon!" She winked at you. 'Finally' she thought

"Oh yeah it's already 6" You said kinda sad knowing sunghoon would have to leave soon

"Oh I should probably get going now but remember our deal okay?"

"Yeah I will! I'll walk you to the elevator then."

"Hey y/n you know what Mr.lee said. You have to use your wheelchair,try to get used to it." Gisellse mostly said that so she could see you two interact. She was so curious about it. She honestly thought you two would be great friends but you both would be super duper awkward at least at first. Oh boy was she wrong. You both kinda clicked I mean it was kinda awkward at times but both of you didn't mind.

"We should hangout tomorrow again then" Sunghoon said excitedly walking into the elevator while Giselle wheeled you right in front of the elevator.

"Oh then where should we meet and what time?"

"Mhmm what about 2:30?" He said while opening your rooms door. He had a mischievous look on his face. Odd

"Sure but where?"

"I think you already know where I'll be around 2:30 you follow me like everyday y/n." He said it with a mischievous smirk as the elevator doors were about to close.

"WHAT??" You and Giselle in perfect unison.

w⁠(⁠°⁠ｏ⁠°⁠)⁠w

[calamari-minecraft-corner]

While you're talking about penpal can I just say that it is legitimately one of the best fics I've ever read? Like obviously it has a very special place in my heart for just what it's done for me (which is a lot)

But also it's just such a good fic in my opinion. I can't really word exactly how good I think it is, but I think it's all in the characters. They are masterful, in my opinion.

And I vividly remember how I first read it, I believe I found it bc I had already found your blog (I don't remember exactly how I found your blog) and you had just posted an update. It was like 75k long at the time but I was on a boat and was bored, I started reading it at like... Idk anywhere between 7 and 9 o'clock I'm not quite sure,but probably on the earlier side, but I know I binged the whole thing because I was so invested, I believe it was after 2am by the time I was done. My phone almost ran out of battery at least once during my reading and the outlet was not in a comfortable place to be hooked into whil reading at all but I did it anyway. I had to stop myself from kicking my feet and giggling at certain parts because I was in a cabin with my dad and sister.

It has been the one fic that I've had to skip over a torture section (the centipede bit) and to me that is amazing and I love it.

I know I almost cried probably multiple times when first reading it.

It's a really good fic, and you should be very proud of yourself :)

Waaaa Cryptid that’s so sweet ;-; I’m so glad you love it

I used to (and still do) get really worried writing dark fics like that since people have told me before that it’s too far or they really don’t care/be really dismissive and kinda ignore it while pretending to like it and it really crushed my ability to write it. Or when I did they kinda went ‘no not like that’ which is why I stopped writing that stuff for years so publicly writing that stuff again was a big step for me- especially when it involved the manipulation scenes and THE torture scene bc I knew some people would think it was too much

Meanwhile I just wanted to be creative and thinking how desperate would Sam and Q be to devolve into that

I really do love writing fucked up scenes like that, Spooky says it’s my biggest strength is writing those scenes and it always has been- mainly because I really like getting descriptive

Same with writing the more manipulation and verbal conflict with the psychological side

And the characterization with everyone- I still get so scared of misinterpreting but I always have to think “how mentally there are they and how does that effect their actions”

But aaaa yeah- thank u so much cryptid that’s so nice ;;

[aeivyen]

Steph Made a Maze, chapter 1

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

~~~

"Do you wanna go bowling with me?"

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

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

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

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

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Definitely interesting." 

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

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

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

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

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

"Meet you there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sounds like a plan~" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You got this!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"In a lot down the street."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fits you, Mr. Cinephile." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Older? Are you older than me?"

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

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

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

Tom snickered. "Right?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, vegan?"

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

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

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

A wince. "It just seems rude?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have a nice voice." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Of course~" 

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

"You bake bread a lot?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Highschool?" He guessed, and she snickered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd like to keep going."

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

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

"Fair is fair."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'd like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hm?" She blinked.

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

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

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

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

"In ages?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<Steph> Hey, made it back alright. 

Then, before she could turn back into the hall,

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

<Steph> I'll check my schedule

[noobette-little-box]

talkin about minecraft

hey hi it's me noobette hello!!

im gonna try writing something that longer than what i normally post because im kinda bored right now and kinda wanna talk alot about minecraft

so yea

minecraft!

you know it

if you don't what minecraft is somehow

what rock do you live under, and can i join you so you're not lonely

big 3d sandbox game about blocks that released in 2009, created by Notch, a guy i don't feel like talking about much.

i've never actually beat minecraft at all

i've been playing for like

6-8 years at this point

i've only ever played minecraft pocket edition and minecraft ps4 edition

it was the only game i played like a month after i got my tonsils taken out

back when i was like 5 or 6 i played ps3 edition but didnt understand the controls lol

anyways, minecraft has been in my life for over a third of it, and yet i have not beaten it

and i don't really know why

sure it could be that i prefer the calm of a creative world to the chaotic nature of survival

but if that's the case, then why would i create all these survival worlds

i don't think the issue is how i like to play the game, but how the game is played, if that makes sense.

this is more of an issue with newer versions of minecraft, which is a sentence that has been said hundreds of times, but it's true! new minecraft just removes the fun!!

back in the older days of minecraft you just needed diamonds, blaze rods, ender pearls, and about a stack of dirt, and you could go beat the ender dragon

it's mostly the same in the new version too but now everything is made more complicated

like early stages are mostly the same, punch tree, get wood, get stone, go mine, simple

but now instead of building a little mineshaft to dig down, you wanna fine a cave, and hope it goes all the way down to deepslate, if you ever want hope of finding diamonds

then if you want enchantments, you don't want to get an enchantment table, no, you want about 15 librarian villagers to get the stuff you want, which turns villagers into pretty much a necessity instead of a "ooh hehe im gonna build a little village for the little villagers teehee"

then for the nether

here, you now can get material better than diamonds! this is not a bad thing by itself, but it's so hard to get that there's no real reason to get it! you need to go collect a smithing template from one of the bastions in order to upgrade 1 piece of armor!

considering it's an achievement to upgrade a diamond hoe to netherite, and you will mostly want to upgrade the rest of your tools, thats 9 smithing templates and 9 netherite ingots!!

and to get one netherite ingot you need 4 ancient scraps!! which means you need to find 36 ancient debris blocks, which are really hard to find!!! so it's really not worth it to get netherite at all!! and with all the new biomes and structures, the fortresses are harder to find, making it harder to get the blaze rods!!

once you have the blaze rods theres 3 different ways to get ender pearls now. you can either hunt down endermen, barter with piglins, or trade with villagers!! the ones that are easiest are villagers or piglins!! this means villagers are even more of a "god i really fuckin need it" thing!

once you get the eyes of ender the end game is mostly just the same

im probably just being stupid, but i preferred it when you had to get stuff by yourself instead of just buying it from a villager

i know it's not necessary at all but if you're playing with other people they're going to be way ahead compared to you

in my opinion the most recent update that i've liked had been the aquatic update because it didn't make progression any easier or harder

all of this is probably why i've never really beaten minecraft. maybe i should go and make a world just to try playing it the way i want to and see if i can beat the game

if i do i will update you guys on this

okay yeah it was not that long but eh

[theflyingfeeling]

I am not saying I have s good gaydar but it is beeping loudly at especially Olli 🙈

But a genuine question I know it’s all a joke and nothing serious but do you seriously think Olli and/or Aleksi might be lgbt and do you think they actually might have a crush on each other? I know it’s none of our business really but people (me) tend to be curious 🤷🏻‍♀️

Love your blog btw ❤️

Yeah I can't proud on having anything even remotely resembling a gaydar but sometimes I wonder... 👀🤨🤭

(putting the rest behing a read-more 🫣)

In all seriousness, as I've said many times before, I've always thought there's no way BC is 100% heterosexual. I just don't believe it 😌 as for who in the band is not straight, I'm hesitant to speculate or comment on anyone's sexual orientation (outside fanfics / delusional headcanons, that is), but I mean... obviously it's a possibility? 🤷‍♀️ however, as much as I'd love to see Olli and Aleksi together or even just crushing on each other for real, I must admit them being queer is more likely than them being queer AND having a crush on each other. Then again, they wouldn’t be the first people in the history of the universe to fall for a friend, neither would they be the first people ever to have a crush on Person A while being in a relationship with Person B...

So my (boring) answer to your question is it's possible 🤷‍♀️ one might argue that e.g. Olli wearing that t-shirt with the rainbow on the backside that was made/sold in collaboration with his local LGBTQ+ organisation is relevant here, and maybe it is, but at the same time a completely heterosexual person might as well wear a shirt like that to show their support (to a friend or a family member or just in general, because why wouldn't he? he's a good bean and that's exactly the kinda thing I'd imagine him doing). Same goes for Aleksi's "everone is gay" Nirvana shirt. Sure, there are other "hints" the may have "dropped" (accidentally or not, like that moment in Aleksi’s twitch stream when he refused to read the comment out loud once he noticed it was basically calling him a straight person ����), but not quite enough for me to actually lean towards any explanation more than the other. I know both of them are currently in long-term heterosexual relationships, so it's rather safe to say neither of them are gay, unless they're been fooling their poor spouses this whole time, which I honestly don't believe is the case. But them being bi or pan for example is totally a possibility as far as I'm concerned, since I don't understand why 'heterosexual' should be the "default" and that everyone is assumably straight until something explicitly proves otherwise. I'm sorry but to me the fact they're in hetero relationship is NOT enough proof 😌

And if someone's tempted to make a comment along the lines of jfc what are you on, of course they're not crushing on each other, they're FRIENDS and you're delusional omg, I want you to ask yourself: is it REALLY that far-fetched that two friends who reportedly 1) really enjoy each other's company, 2) have common interests, 3) share the same kind of humour, 4) spend a lot of time together when given the chance, and 4) possibly find each other attractive (just speculation) would have a crush on one another? Just a teeny tiny (🤏) crush? I think not 😤 Especially in Olli/Allu's case, since they've only known each other since idk 2019 or something like that? Suddenly I can't remember when Timebomb came out or when they worked on it lol but anyway, it's a little different in comparison to Olli's other bandmates whom he has known since he was a teenager / literal child, so I'd imagine he views e.g. Joonas and Tommi as his brothers almost. With Aleksi he doesn't have that kind of history, although I'm sure they too have engaged in all sorts of brotherly activities... 🥰

Even considering the case they're both in relationships, it wouldn't be a complete impossibility. Especially in long-term relationships I'd say it's rather common to have an odd crush on someone else from time to time. Whether or not they do anything about the crushes is another story entirely

Yeah, anyway, hope this helps! 😇 have a great weekend, curious anon ❤️

[chromatic-lamina]

fic writer asks!! i’m really curious about these three:

🤲 what do YOU get out of writing?

🌈 is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

☯️ how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

thank you!! ♥️

Hello there!

🤲 what do YOU get out of writing?

Keeps me sane. I think it's something I'm good at and something I enjoy doing, so I think I should do it if I feel driven to do it. Balance is important of course. Also, I can write, with some stuff, scenarios or character studies and relationships that I'd like to see.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with? Let me have a look. Not really, no. For me, anyway, fanfiction is easier than original fiction. I try to write well, but I'm more likely to possibly be happy with a scene with fewer drafts than I might in original fic. I want it to be, basically, not stressful, even when I'm writing dark stuff. As a matter of fact, fanfic can be an avoidance strategy for me, so I'm more likely to write it when I'm a little stressed, than it actually stressing me. I have deleted and re-uploaded some of my dark fics (and even non-dark), a few times because I felt I didn't have enough confidence to deal with any potential backlash, and I get insecure sometimes (that was probably in response to crickets. Haha).

There are probably a number of scenes in my fics that I worked hard

at and it's good if the seams aren't showing. I don't know that anything was a struggle. I find if you're really struggling with something it's good to go on to a later scene and come back to the scene giving you trouble later (if it's a multi-chap), or write an 'and-then' draft, where you just get a big pile of prosaic sketching, really, on your page. And that's hard, cos' it can be kinda tedious, but once you've got that, you can really dive in and have fun with character, scene, dialogue, etc. I'm not discounting anyone's writing struggles. I've been there. But probably fanfiction has struck me this way.

Like, there is no such thing as a filler chapter, dudes. If you're bored with the final result, probably your readers will be too, so sometimes you've got to knuckle down, isolate, pick apart, put back together, and proceed. And nine times out of ten, I end up loving those paragraphs/ sentences / chapters. I don't think I answered the question, but there you go!

☯️ how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

Interesting question. I can only speak for myself. I joined tumblr after maybe 3 years of writing fanfic, and I wasn't on twitter or discord. I belonged to a fanfiction subreddit, but I think the sub-reddit served to make writers more nervous of social media than not.

I was pleasantly surprised. tumblr and twitter helped me to see how much of fandom occurs away from AO3 or FFN, for one (most of it). And some story links I've posted haven't done badly in notes (which, let's face it, for fanfiction is when it goes into the teens), but people have also left comments on my work saying they saw my post on twt or tumblr, and even it my post didn't get me any notes, etc., it did get me some readers who left really nice comments, which was excellent, so it served its purpose.

People must curate their own experiences. I've banked a lot of self-worth on whether I get kudos or comments, and I'll still have dips, but the thing is, that for most people (not all), getting some traction is a bit of a long slog. Like, it was probably 6 months to a year before I really connected with anyone over my fics, and lots of good stuff came well after that.

But, although I do think it's important that community members support one another if the community is to be sustainable, individuals in that community need to know what they can or can't do. And there are different personalities, so different horses for different courses. Even stuff like these ask games can sometimes do a lot. Plus, I think lots of folks in fandom have a very intense attention span of a fly. So I'd also advise not to get too attached. People come and go.

Also, I don't think it hurts to research (like, I didn't!) on the fan fiction platform before uploading. If a writer's fic is OCxOC take a look and see how the OC fics go in the fandom, and tether expectations to that. Even if someone as a reader reads outside of the box, once they become a writer, they might want to realise that if they're writing what they like to read, it's no less valuable, but it might not be as popular as the more common tropes etc.

And really, if , say, you're flooded with antis or negativity, etc., on tumblr, twitter, etc., use the block/mute button. Delete where you can, and interact with folks that you vibe with and cruise along. If the social anxiety is too high, just stick to posting fic and disengage.

Thanks for the ask!

I've answered ✨ 💫 📡 , 🤲 , 🌈 , ☯️ and I'm about to answer: 🎈💥🎀 (way-hey! They look so bright in my inbox!!). The ask is here if anyone else wants to ask!

[makangerous]

The Emotional Unlocking of Sara Chidouin

Spoiler free! This fic is also on AO3 and is easier to read there, plus you get a summary!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41981259

Sara Chidouin stared blankly at the ceiling in her bedroom. Her stalker had ensured she didn't get much sleep last night. Now, the morning sun was too bright for her to fall asleep, even after closing the blinds. It was the start of a long weekend, and she was already incredibly bored. She grabbed her phone from her bedside table and was about to call her best friend Joe before she remembered:

That's right, Joe has a big date with Ryoko today. He isn't really a morning person, anyway.

Sara cast the phone aside and sighed. She was happy her two friends enjoyed each other's company so much, but she couldn't help but feel jealous. Hanging out with them both was so awkward now that they were dating. Each of them would gush nonstop about the other. Last week, she had listened to Joe go on and on about their first date. She honestly was beginning to regret introducing the two of them.

I knew Joe first, he's mine, stay away from him--

No. Joe would never want her if she kept having nasty thoughts like that. If she felt entitled to people, she would be no different than the stalker he always protected her from. And Ryoko was her dear friend. Sara wouldn't hesitate to give Joe an earful if she ever heard he'd mistreated Ryoko. Ryoko was just so different from her, though. Outgoing, bubbly, heart worn on the sleeve... Joe had told Sara before that she could easily become as popular as Ryoko, but she kept her emotions locked up too deep, and it scared people away. Sure, she was nice superficially, and others wanted to trust her since she seemed dependable, but no one could tell what she was truly thinking.

Is that why Joe only sees me as a friend? Is he scared of the emotions he can't read, too?

There was a selfish, ruthless part of her hiding at the edge of her consciousness, but she held it off well, and Joe was never in any danger from it. Though, perhaps she didn't have as much control of it as she thought if she was sitting here, plotting how to get Joe to look at her instead of Ryoko...

Instead of letting her mind go around in circles, Sara took her phone again and began writing Joe a text message. Any contact with him would soothe the jealous beast inside her, she reasoned. Ideally, he would reaffirm his love for Ryoko and shut it up for good. Her text was simple:

"Good morning, you sleep ok?"

Joe answered in bursts, as usual.

"Good morning!!!" "I couldn’t sleep, nervous about today lol" "U sleep good?" "No :( " "Was that stalker bothering u? That sucks." "I'll give him a kick to the nuts next time I see him" "I can't get his face out of my mind. He covers it but I catch glimpses here and there." "That's gotta be scary! I only think of faces over and over if I'm in love." "I can't imagine how bad it feels when it's someone you hate." "Do you think about Ryoko's face?"

Joe didn't answer for a minute, even though her message had been read. He probably just had to use the restroom, that was all--

"That's kinda a personal question lol." "Sorry." "Nah you're fine. It's just hard for me to explain in a text." "What are u doing today?" "Not much. Probably homework." "Boring. Hey, wanna hang out tomorrow? Since you're gonna work yourself to death otherwise" "Sure." "Mind if I come over to ur place? I've been hitting up all the fun places in town for dates." "I wanna relax for once" "I don't mind. We can have some tea and chat for a while." "Mm, tea! You always have the best snacks to go with. See U tomorrow! XD"

Damn it, texting Joe had only made things more complicated. She would get to see him soon, but it would mean another long-winded description of Ryoko. She had no idea how much longer she could hold her feelings in. Surely Joe would prefer if her emotions stayed locked up in this case... Ugh. Well, she supposed she'd bury herself in her assignments and try to ignore her heart's nervous beating. Then she'd make a strawberry cake for tomorrow's tea time. Maybe if she put all her feelings into baking it, Joe would instantly fall for her when he took a bite--

No, that's ridiculous. If only this could be solved that easily...

Sara pulled the cake out of the oven and smiled. It had come out perfectly light and spongy. She'd let it cool, then spread some homemade vanilla frosting on it. After that, she'd top it with the rest of the strawberries. She wondered if he'd like it if she arranged them in the shape of a heart--

There you go, thinking stupid thoughts again. You're not his girlfriend.

Speaking of his girlfriend, Ryoko was probably enjoying her date with Joe right now. They likely had just finished their dinner and were about to go catch that new comedy film at the cinema. Her cell phone vibrated. To her surprise, it was a text from Joe.

"Hey." "What's up? Aren't you on a date right now?" "We ate but my stomach feels funny. Canceled on the movie :(" "Oh no! Are you sick?" "Kinda. I just need to lay down I think. I'll get better for tomorrow, I promise!" "Don't worry about coming if you're sick. We can meet up another day." "But what if the only cure for my illness is Sara's lovely desserts? Lol"

Her heart skipped a beat. She was so glad she'd decided to bake something. Lately, she'd been getting lazy and buying sweets from the department store. Joe still praised her skill in finding the most high-quality, unique, and flavorful ones, but she knew he preferred her creations. She couldn't resist hinting at the surprise:

"I just took something out of the oven for you! <3"

She typed the heart at the end and sent it before registering what she had put. The realization hit, and she stared down at her phone, horrified.

Oh crap, hopefully he doesn't read into it--

"Aw yes!!! I'm so excited!! <3"

She gasped. For a second, it felt like her heart had jumped out of her chest and materialized inside Joe's text message.

Calm down. You're the one reading into things. He's just matching your energy.

Joe never used that emoticon with her, though. Maybe he was delirious from his sickness? Sara wanted more than anything to talk with him and figure out his true feelings. But she really ought to let him rest.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be relaxing? Take some medicine and get to bed." "Finnneee. You're so strict, Dr. Sara! I'm gonna dream about yummy cake. Or is it cookies? Or what? Anyway, good night. See ya tomorrow!" "Good night Joe!”

Joe had managed to guess what she'd made on the first try. Was she really that predictable? Then again, Joe always had a sharp intuition when it came to reading other people. She could sort through given information and connect facts together in her mind lightning fast, and so she excelled at school. He told her over and over again that he could never hope to be a genius like she was. Yet Sara desperately wanted to trade her type of intelligence for his right now. She glanced again at the leftover strawberries.

Maybe I should use these to whip up something he'll never expect. What haven't I tried making before that could have strawberries in it? ...Ah! I'll make some jam! We can put it on bread, or he can take it home for later. Let me look up a recipe...

Sara swiped out of her messaging app and jumped into a search engine. If she couldn't tell Joe outright how she felt, she'd show him by going the extra mile. She wasn't content being the girl of his dreams.

Well, he's dreaming about my food, not me, exactly. But that's beside the point.

She would exceed his dreams, and take him outside the boundaries of his imagination. If that didn't sway him, nothing would.

Her doorbell rang just after the sun rose. She squinted out her window at the sky's fading pinks and oranges and reluctantly pulled herself out of bed.

Who the heck is ringing the doorbell at this hour? It's not the stalker, is it?

Her parents had gone out of town for the weekend to celebrate their anniversary. She had to either answer the front door, or ignore them and hope whoever it was went away. That second option sounded best, both for her safety and her sleep--

BING-BONG-BINGBINGBING-BONG-BING-BONG

But that wasn't feasible anymore. This visitor was mashing the doorbell button as their life depended on it. Sara threw a sweater over her camisole, grabbed the golf club she kept by her bedroom door for self-defense, and headed downstairs. Even if the visitor wasn't here to harm her, she might just give them a whack for waking her up. She reached the front door and peered out the peephole. Upon seeing who it was, she immediately cast aside her club and turned the knob.

“Joe? You sure showed up early. What is it, 5:00?”

“Nah, it's around 6. Almost 7, actually. ...I woke up from my nap around midnight and couldn't go back to sleep. Can you tell?” He was grinning ear to ear, but there were bags under his eyes, and he was trembling, like it was taking him a great amount of effort to maintain his expression.

“I can. But couldn't you at least let me get a full night of sleep?”

“Sorry. I just feel funny still, and I don't wanna be alone. My brain wanders off to weird places if I have nothing to do.” A shadow seemed to fall over his face for a split second. His body jolted, then he straightened his back and chuckled slightly. “Besides, I really wanted to see you! We haven't had a tea break in forever!”

Sara couldn't fault him for any of those reasons. “Fair enough. Let me change out of my pajama pants, then I'll start on the tea. Is jasmine tea alright?”

“It sounds delicious! And don't worry about changing. I like those pants. Are those cats on them? Whatever they are, they're cute.”

She pretended to fix her hair so she could hide her blushing cheeks and her smile. “Cut it out, or you're not getting anything.”

“Aw, c'mon. I'd wear stuff like that if I could get away with it.” He followed her into the kitchen and pulled a chair up to the counter.

She filled a kettle with warm water and set it on the stove. As she began preparing the cups, she asked Joe, “So do you have any idea why you haven't been feeling well? Was the restaurant food bad?”

“No, it was amazing. You'll have to try it sometime. There's just been a lot on my mind. And it hasn't been anything I've wanted to bother you with, since you're dealing with much bigger problems. But I don't know if I made a stupid choice or not.”

“About what?”

“Ryoko... I broke up with her last night, Sara.”

Sara whirled to face him. “Why?! You were so happy to be with her.”

“I don't know. She's really into me, and our dates were a lot of fun, but it didn't feel right somehow. I guess you could call it a gut feeling? I feel like crap for breaking her heart.”

“Well... If you know something's not working, there's no point in dragging it out. And I think Ryoko will still want to be your friend, if you give her some time. She loves talking to you. Are you sure there wasn't anything in particular that made you not want to be with her, though?”

“You're not mad at me, are you? You practically set us up.”

“I'm not mad. Only concerned.” It hadn't escaped her notice that he'd answered her question with another question.

“Don't worry, I'll be fine. I told ya, the cure for my sadness is your lovely desserts. Where are you hiding them?”

“I'll bring them out once the tea is done. I made an extra surprise this time.”

“Ooh, a surprise! How do you expect me to wait patiently now? Anyway, do you mind if we eat in your bedroom? These chairs aren't comfortable, and I wanna say hi to your plushies.”

“No problem. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable there. I'm almost done.” Sara and Joe had slept over at each other's houses as kids, and had seen inside each other's bedrooms countless times. Sara had a small table she kept in her room for when they would hang out and do homework. What troubled her is that Joe had brought up the topic of the breakup, yet didn't want to elaborate on it at all.

Why are you hiding things from me, Joe? You came over here this early because you needed to talk to someone, didn't you? Did Ryoko do something? Did I do something?

“No way! Strawberry cake? That's exactly what I was dreaming about!”

Sara gently set down a tray on her bedroom table. The strawberry cake occupied one side, perfectly fluffy, moist, and pink. The other side contained several slices of light and creamy shokupan bread, next to the jar of homemade strawberry mint jam she'd prepared. It smelled heavenly. “That's not all. Look closer. This isn't a store-bought jar. I had some extra strawberries, so I thought I might as well use them.”

“You made your own jam?! That's so clever! It's not even noon and you've already made my day. Mm, I don't even know what to dig into first! I owe you a nice meal now.” He grabbed a slice of bread and placed it on the edge of his plate, then cut out a large piece of cake and crammed it onto the remaining space.

“How about this? I'll call it even if you tell me what's actually on your mind.”

Joe didn't look up from spreading a hearty layer of jam all over his bread. “Can't you figure it out? I guess I can tell you, but there's no fun in that.”

“No, I can't. I'm not good with other people's emotions.”

“Bullshit. Yes, you are. You're great at figuring out what other people are thinking. You just second guess yourself because it's not always in line with what you're thinking and feeling. And you won't trust your own emotions.”

“I don't get why you're making a game out of this. But I suppose I'll play along.”

“Good. Here's a freebie.” Joe took a bite out of the cake. “I'm thinkin' this food is tasty as hell! You try some.” He speared another piece of cake on his fork and held it up to Sara's mouth. Feeding it to her seemed excessive, but something inside her told her to go with it. She'd sampled a bit of the batter before putting it in the oven, so she somewhat knew what to expect. Baking had mellowed out some of the sweetness and really brought out the flavor of the fruit, even more so than she had anticipated. To have Joe feed her something so divine made her feel giddy... She noticed Joe staring at her face intently and felt her cheeks flush. “And there's your clue. How are you feeling right now?”

How I'm feeling... is the clue? Does he expect me to say it out loud? I can't tell him something like that!

“You're thinking about it too much. Just tell me.”

“...Well, it does taste really good. And, um, I'm not used to being fed by anyone, and I didn't think I'd like that sort of thing. It reminds me of those cute dramas on TV.” She couldn't stop now, could she? “I guess I'm embarrassed because... I'm happy I'm doing something like that with you.”

She couldn't say that last part while looking him in the eye. When she looked back at him, he had his arms folded on the table and was leaning over it. His face was intense and gentle at the same time, and entirely too close. “Go on,” was all he said.

Her heart was bursting. She had to let him know, even if it brought the world crashing down around them. “I really like you, Joe. As more than a friend... Did you know that?”

Joe lightly placed his hands on the sides of her head. “I did. So why do you think I broke up with Ryoko?”

God, why was she about to cry? “B-because you knew I liked you.”

“And?”

She held the edge of the table and tried not to shake. Her deduction had better not be wrong. “You like me too...?”

“Good job.” Joe kissed her. Time stopped and for the first time in a long while, Sara allowed herself to feel her bare emotions.

My best friend...I've loved him forever, haven't I?...

Joe pulled back after what felt like the whole morning, entirely too soon. He kept holding her head with one hand while running his fingers through her ponytail with the other. “Doesn't that feel good, having that weight lifted off your chest? I bet it was there for a long time. Sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“That you liked me, or that I liked you? I guess I noticed how Ryoko acted when she had a crush on me and realized you act the same way around me, except you're way better at hiding it. You only slipped up a couple times. Stuff like being cute on purpose. You're really damn cute on accident a lot, but when you try, it's something else.”

“Wait, how am I cute on accident?” Sara interrupted.

“Like that. You try so hard not to be cute that it draws attention to how cute you are.” He laughed at her flustered expression and kissed her on the forehead. “Anyway! I realized on every date I went on with Ryoko, while I had lots of fun, I always ended up wishing I'd went with you instead. There were all sorts of things I would've pointed out to you. Then your text yesterday gave me a kick in the ass. You asked me if I thought about Ryoko's face over and over. It's not hers. It's yours.”

“Aww...You're right. I fell for you years ago. I never acted on it because I never believed you would want to be anything more than friends with me. After all, I'm scared of my own emotions. And I have this darkness inside me. It's so bad, I feel like a monster sometimes.”

“Sara, it's okay. I think horrible things sometimes, too. As long as you don't act on them, you're fine. If you feel like a monster again, call me, alright? We'll talk about it. It'll all work out.” Joe stretched his arms above his head and stood up. “You mind if I crash on your bed for a couple hours? The exhaustion's finally hitting me, now we've sorted all this out.”

“Only if I get to cuddle you.”

“Duh, that was the point.”

She pulled a spare pillow out of her closet for him. He lay down on his side and held his arms out. She slid into them, rested her head against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Suddenly, any plans Sara might have had for the day disappeared.

“Your arms feel safe, Sara. Like nothing can go wrong if I stay here. Don't let go, okay?”

“I won't.”

[beforeiforgetyou]

For your eyes only. (kinda)

What are you doing right now? Where have you been? Even when we don't speak, I'm thinking of you. Always. Last night, you visited my dreams. The way you smell. The way you laugh. The way you cry. The way you taste. How will we ever be just friends when you're forever in my mind? Even when I sleep.

Do you ever think about it? What if things were different? What if we were different?

What if we had met earlier? That middle school love. The weird boy who writes poems, and eats peanut butter crackers behind the gymnasium. The tall girl, who always has her headphones in and could be a track star, but spends her time at the Science Club instead. I'd slip love letters in your locker between classes.

Or later? Maybe we're in our 40s now. Successful and independent on our own. We'd meet at some lame business conference, bored of everyone else, but find one another intriguing. Talk all night and drink too much at the hotel bar. I'd take you back to my room with me. Or maybe we couldn't even make it that far, and I'd fuck you in the bathroom during a presentation we weren't interested in anyways.

Is it the timing? No. That's not it. We were never meant for that. In any life, at any time, in any scenario. You and I. We're something different. My favorite girl. My secret slut. My hardest lesson. My best friend.

Oh, you are mine! A part of you always will be. An invisible mark. A stain. A lingering memory that we'll always have. The day will come, yes. Tied down by spouses and partners who we love differently. But they would never understand, and so our memories remain secrets. Ours to keep. That day will come. Bound by obligation and families, separated by time and distance. It will come but I will keep a part of you forever.

Hardly a year. I've known you for hardly a year. And yet the way my heart swoons and swells when you walk by, you'd think it's been a lifetime. Too fast, too strong, too strange. We're bad for one another, you know. Toxic. The ups and downs. The highs and lows. I'm addicted to them. Addicted to you.

It's the eyes. Deep, dark pits; windows into your soul. Can he see it too? You live there. Sometimes I can't look at you directly. I feel myself drowning, getting lost again in that somber, brilliant gaze. Those eyes. They bare into my own soul and probe for the secrets that no one else has ever known.

Life is funny sometimes. The Universe. Or God. Whatever you choose to call it. Fate that saw it fit to offer me a soulmate, a lesson, a gift. But not one that I could keep. One to love, one to lose. A tragedy and a romance all at once. Vixen, temptress, gentle girl. Reaching inside and pulling out all the feelings and words a man can muster.

I miss the days of you and me. The rest of the world fell away in those moments. I wish I'd known back then that I was on borrowed time. I would have held on tighter. Made you stay. Frozen time, just for a while, where nothing else mattered but the uncomplicated moments of pure understanding and happiness. I miss you so deeply, pretty girl.

Two different gardens,

Two different vines;

But for a while a least,

Our roots intertwined.