#i wrote this because i wanted to try the animal symbolism(?) thing and i kinda like it

[yennas-stuff]

Hi, anon. I chose to blur out the link. I hope that's ok.

I will start with the sleeping beauty theory you sent me. While I think it's actually fun (and it's the first time I felt engaged while reading an e/riel theory), I personally think it has no validity and it's based on basic symbolism.

They mentioned the fairies: flora = flowers (Elain loves flowers, got it), fauna (and only wrote fawn in brackets, so I wasn't sure what's that about) and the third one which the only significance for the theory was that she was dressed in blue (Azriel's color, I'm guessing), and a sword of truth (alluding to the Truth Teller).

Ok, so while I agree that it all seems very fitting... It's also very basic. If Flora and Fauna both symbolize Elain... who is she in the retelling? One of them? Both? And also, while flora means flowers, plants, fauna in no way means fawn. Sure, sure, these words sound similar, but... That's it.

Fauna comes from this:

So it's more a goat than a fawn if we had to connect it to an animal.

They also mentioned a sword of truth. Well, that's another confirmation bias. Swords are just often depicted as a symbol for it.

So while all the theorizing and digging in sounds very fun... It has no legs to stand on after closer inspection. (Although Sarah does take some stuff and mix it all up as she wishes sometimes, lmao).

The only thing that connects it to the story is the name itself: "The Sleeping Beauty" since we know that Elain's mind was compared to a garden with flowers in deep slumber.

It could be an inspiration for Sjm, who knows. But there is only connection to Elain with this story. No e/riel proofs here. If you try to find a connection to romance and to lore, you will always find it (again, conformation bias, babeey).

Also, another point was made about priestesses from the library luring people... So far, it's only fanon theory.

And as for e/riel being inverted sleeping beauty where Azriel gets kidnapped by Koschei and Elain has to wake him up... I kinda got lost there. Koschei only takes women under his lake.

And I agree totally that Azriel, in my opinion, has little connection to Koschei plotline. But we all know why they want him to be connected. Because Elain is, as well as her mate and his friends. He will maybe help out, but as a spy... But how do you spy a deity that's tied to a lake? Kinda nonsensical. But maybe I will take back my words, I'm fine with correcting myself.

I will not get into the whole emotional depth of e/riel being this 🤏 thin. I would be here yapping all day, and it's been discussed over and over again.

(Also, if everything in acotar is a disney retelling, what's Nessian, then? Genuinely asking.)

[redjaybathood]

привіт!!

were you the one that mentioned the solar machine? i know i saw it mentioned on my dash a few days ago and meant to ask this but completely forgot until now. i wanted to ask if you could share what the book is about because it seemed really interesting based on the title! i was trying to find some info on it on my own but had trouble since my ukrainian is still pretty basic and there wasn't much available in english. eventually i would like to try reading it along with more ukrainian literature :)

i hope you have a good day, and слава україні!

Haha I sincerely don't recommend starting with it when you start with Ukrainian literature. Stylistically it's a very heavy-worded book, Vynnychecnko himself wrote that he kinda shoulda worked on editing it for a few years before publishing. But, him being in exile, and I guess there are not a lot of job opportunities for a former head of the Ukrainian government.

I would describe it as a book that would be perfect for an anime adaptation. It also has a Chinese web novel about the revenge of a rich girl turned destitute vibe (not entirely, because there's a whole lot more to it, and Elisa doesn't really take that much screen time! but if I were to adapt it, she would be in the core cast)

Plot in short: Germany lost the WWI, now aristocracy is irrelevant and capitalists - bankers, factory owners etc - are taking over becoming essentially the new aristocracy. Which, people still being people and power being attractive, that doesn't make Germany any better off.

An old aristocrat loses everything on the stock market. Out of honor, he just kills himself and his elder son, masking it as a tragic accident, because god forbid someone finds out he treated the stock market as a casino, and now the only thing that is staying before the public finds out that he's broke, all his property taken away etc etc - is an arranged marriage of the head banker with his daughter. So yeah, at least he didn't sell off his kid and just went away and died.

So now princess Elisa has to take revenge.

That's the Chinese web novel vibe. It also comes through the romance subplot, the love interest of the "perceived as useless and ugly by the people in power but actually really handsome and capable. And also of how the novel consent between MC and ML. The dubcon vibes (as the inciting incident of them getting together).

And the anime vibe starts with the, you know, actual Solar Machine subplot. The sci-fi part of it - except for the social fantasy - doesn't really start up until, I think it was halfway through the text? I didn't care about it as much as the whole Inarak subplot. I don't think he really thought it through enough. Thus the debate, is it utopia or anti-utopia? I would argue the former, or rather, it progresses from anti-utopia to utopia.

(also, you need to be aware that it is written in the early XX century; for example, he rightfully calls out racism via the duke's description of people and MC's reaction to it, all the while not breaking the character of the MC, bc she's coming from the same background. At the same time, in narration, he's constantly giving men "women traits": ass, lips etc. And I'm a shipper of Simon Petlura/Volodymyr Vynnychenko, so I would love to believe it's something other than a bit of period-typical background misogyny; like, he writes women so differently and with much empathy, but he still cannot escape the notion that a man having a woman's trait in his appearance is a symbol of weakness.

At the very same time, he gets it: God is with those who have money. There is no God, and all the misfortune of a woman is that she has no money... )

(in response to the older duke's daughter telling her younger sibling about what amounts to her husband stopping short of pimping her out and then forcing her to have sex with him, with financial abuse on top)

All in all, Vynnychenko is great with characters. You can like or dislike them - and he doesn't make an effort to make you one way or another, except maybe with the main antagonist and people who serve him. But they are engaging and, yes, would be great to see on screen, imo.

And I would expect tumblr leftists to love Solar Machine, actually, for its critique of capitalism, for Inarak (they so would stan Max! and possibly Trudy but for other reasons) - and for the end message. I've seen exactly the same message spread around on tumblr so I would have said I'm shocked he's not popular among them, but then again, he's a Ukrainian.

[galexis-void]

"Just Toying Around" (Candybats)

A/N: Okay, this one is more story based (unintentionally). Try to enjoy anyway, I spent a while on it.

Also, I used Google Translate for a decent chunk of this, so if I wrote something in your language and it's wrong, I sincerely apologize.

Summary: Streber received a strange gift in the mail, and his curiosity lands Kevin in a quite a predicament.

Trigger warnings: None that I can think of

Reminder: These stories are not built on logic. They're made to entertain, not to make sense. Also, be prepared if the characters here are out of character completely (again, the intention is not to be perfect).

(fic below the cut)

     Streber fiddled absently with the stuffed doll, staring blankly at its button-eyed face. The doll was simple, made of white fabric and with two buttons for eyes and a stitched mouth. There were no other distinguishing features.

     For days he’d been attempting to “animate” the toy. Gone were the days when practical mechanics excited him - his new focus was something much greater than that. If he could bring a toy to life… well, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with that knowledge yet, but he was certain it’d be something world-changing.

     Now, if only he could get the damn thing to work.

     A low whistle from the room caught his attention. “Are you really gonna keep yourself locked up in the batcave forever?”

     “That’s copyright, Kev,” Streber mumbled to himself.

     “You think I care? The only thing I care about is the fact that you’ve been in here for days.”

     Streber sighed, and threw the doll on the floor. “I can’t get this stupid thing to work!”

     “…it’s a toy.”

     “Look, babe, I love you, but please don’t question my work. Now, I need to figure out if I can make a machine for this thing.”

     Kevin entered the room and took a seat on the bed. “Really trying to get out of using that book, huh?”

     He was referring to the alleged spellbook that Streber had received as a gift a few days prior. There had been no name or return address on the package it had arrived in, just a picture of a crystal ball. While he’d tested some of the lesser spells out of morbid curiosity, he’d sworn off of using it. He claimed it was because he wanted his work to be a result of his “genuine intellectual prowess”, but the few friends of his who knew about the book knew the truth - he was afraid of the kind of things he could do with that power.

     “I don’t wanna hear that from the guy who has nightmares about the supernatural almost every day,” Streber answered stiffly, glancing over his shoulder at his boyfriend.

     “That was different. I couldn’t predict or control what happened then. But this is literally untold power you hold in your hands. And I’m surprised you haven’t been totally abusing it.”

     “You know I don’t like not knowing what will happen. Any spell in that thing-” he waved at it, “-could just as easily drop a meteor on the house as it could turn us all into dust. It’s not worth the risk.”

     “Did you even read any of the spells you cast, or did you just pick one and read it off?”

     Streber cursed under his breath. He hadn’t bothered to read them because he’d doubted the book’s authenticity. “I hate you.”

     “I’ll take that as a no. Maybe there’s an anti-lying spell in there that I can use on you. Even if you didn’t mean it, it still kinda hurts to hear that.”

     Streber rose and fetched the book. The cover was thick leather, though somehow it shone a metallic gold color. A large amethyst was set in the center, surrounded by silver symbols written in some lexicon that Streber didn’t recognize - they didn’t look like any lettering he’d seen before, English or otherwise. Silver clasps and a silver spine bound the book together. At first glance it looked like an elaborate prop, like something you’d see in the hands of a wizard in a fantasy movie.

     “Open it,” his boyfriend urged.

     “What’s with your sudden change in attitude? I would think this kind of thing would terrify you.”

     Kevin shrugged. “I gave up on things going back to normal when I was cornered by a serial killer. And before that a possessed doll. And a Lovecraftian horror before that. I don’t like it, but I figured it’d be better to embrace the change.”

     “That… is not something I’d expect to hear from you. But you’re right. When in Rome, I guess. Now let’s crack this puppy open.”

     He opened the book to a random page. It was mostly words, but only one set was in English. There seemed to be one page dedicated to one spell, with the English translation first, followed by numerous other languages.

ANIMATION SPELL - HECHIZO DE ANIMACIÓN - SORT D'ANIMATION - INCANTESIMO DI ANIMAZIONE - ANIMATUM CARMINA - ANIMATIONSMAGIE - Анимационное заклинание - 动画咒语 - アニメーション化された呪文

     There were even a few lines written in the unidentified lexicon again, but Streber didn’t bother trying to decipher those. Instead, he scanned the page for the English translation of the spell. Strangely, he found exactly what he was looking for on the first try.

You will need: the object you wish to animate, salt water, vanilla extract, and a person you intend to separate the soul from to use for the spell. Do not be afraid - you can return the soul to the original body at any time, with no harm done.

✫   ✫   ✫   ✫   ✫

Focus on the object of your fascination. Prepare a soak of salt water and a drop of vanilla. Steep the object of your fascination into the stew and wait for exactly four minutes. Remove the object. 

✫   ✫   ✫   ✫   ✫

Take the person you intend to separate the soul from and have them soak their hands in the stew for four minutes and three seconds. Two minutes into this process, place the object back into the stew and let them soak together. After four minutes and three seconds have passed, remove the object and have the person remove their hands, then say the following incantation:

✦ ✦ “REDDE HANC ANIMAM. SINITE HANC REM FLORERE.” ✦ ✦

To reverse the incantation, locate the corresponding restorative spell on page 242.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

     Streber glanced over the page once more, trying to comprehend. Kevin, who had been reading over his boyfriend’s shoulder, looked a bit pale. “Is this safe?”

     “Probably. I mean, they wouldn’t write it down if it wasn’t safe, right?”

     “Did you miss the part where it says you have to sacrifice a living soul to animate the object?”

     “Did you miss the part where it says you can return things to how they were?”

     “You’d better make sure that spell actually exists before you try this one.”

     Streber flipped to page 242, and located the spell in question. Much like the animation spell, it listed clear instructions for how to restore a dislocated soul, whether forcefully removed or having been disembodied for another reason. “Looks legitimate.”

     “You’re lucky I love you, otherwise I would never allow you to do this.”

     “I’ll make sure that I do it correctly. And I’ll switch you back right away.”

     The boys spent the next ten minutes collecting what they needed. Streber was meticulous with the instructions, not wanting to screw anything up. Throughout, it became increasingly obvious that Kevin was nervous - it seemed despite his big talk earlier, he was still plenty averse to anything vaguely unnatural. Even so, he didn’t withdraw from the procedure.

     Streber cleared his throat, and began to read the incantation aloud. Even though he didn’t sound any different, a sort of chill washed over him as he spoke, and it felt like he was breathing a little heavier. A breeze whipped through the room, threatening to tear the picture frames from the wall and sending his research papers scattered everywhere.

     The scariest part was that Kevin was nowhere to be seen.

     Streber immediately dropped the book in a panic, and called out worriedly for his boyfriend. Had he done the spell wrong? The spell was supposed to give life to the doll, not make his boyfriend vanish into thin air!

     Wait. The doll.

     Streber glanced over the table and almost shrieked. The doll was still there, but it didn’t look the same as before. Its lined smile had sunken into an almost surly expression, and now it had clothes…

     …clothes that looked exactly like the ones Kevin had been wearing a few minutes ago!

     Streber hesitantly picked up the doll. Now that he was looking over it more carefully, the doll looked unmistakably like Kevin. Starting to panic again, he turned the doll over in his hands again and again. The doll seemed lifeless, which meant that while Kevin’s soul had merged with the doll, the spell hadn’t completely worked.

     But Streber didn’t care about that anymore - the immediate concern was Kevin.

     Hey! Take it easy! I’m getting dizzy… *bleh*

     Streber dropped the doll in fright. It sounded like Kevin, but…

     Ouch…

     Streber glanced down at the fallen toy, carefully reaching for it. Was this possible?

     “Kev?” he questioned doubtfully.

     Yeah, it’s me! I don’t think your spell worked…

     “You definitely merged with the doll, but all that did was make it look like you.”

     *hrrrgh* I-I can’t move!

     “It’s okay, I got you. Let’s see what we can do to get you back to normal.”

     But as soon as he said that, something else crossed his mind. If this doll was basically a miniature Kevin…

     “Actually…” he started slowly, carefully running a finger over the doll’s side stitches, “…I’m gonna try something first.”

     Huh? C’mon, I don’t wanna stay-EEEEK!

     Streber heard a familiar squeak, and he smiled… yes, his theory was correct.

     Streber poked the doll’s belly, each flustered sound from his boyfriend making him smile wider and wider. Chuckling softly, he kept poking various spots on the toy’s torso, enjoying the delightful laughs and squeals from Keivn.

     AAIIEHEHEHE! H-HEHEHEHEY! THIS ISN’T FA- HAHAHAHAHA!

     “Oh, shush, you know you love it,” Streber teased. He then switched tactics and smothered the doll’s midsection with kisses.

     EEEEEEEHHEHEHEHEHEHE! I’M GONNA DIHIHIHIE!

     “You are so dramatic, you know that? It’s just belly kisses, Kev. You love those!~”

     But eventually, Streber did stop the tickles. He needed to work on getting Kevin back to normal - there would be plenty of time for tickles after that.

     After about an hour of continuous failures, Streber lunged forward and tightly embraced his very disoriented partner. “Finally! I’m so glad to see you!”

     “I’m glad to be me again,” Kevin mumbled in a daze. But he quickly snapped out of it when Streber squeezed his sides. “WHAHAHA-? COME OHOHON!”

     “Hey, something could’ve gone wrong with the spell! I have to make sure everything’s in order! Like maybe you’re missing a bone or two, or you lost some of your squish.”

     Suffice to say, the rest of the night was filled with loud laughs - from both sides.

-END-

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Whenever One Of Those Disney Remakes Comes Out...

This was originally a Twitter thread that I wrote the other day, and wanted to repost it here because I... Accidentally deleted the first tweet, haha...

Anyways... Regarding "shallow" Disney romances, plot elements of the animated films that supposedly don't add up, and how these remakes supposedly "improve" on them or "add depth"...

For all the talk about some Disney romances happening in such ostensibly short amounts of time or feeling kind of halfhearted... It becomes apparent when you step back and think about it, possibly... but there's a reason the stories hold up and work despite this perceived issue... That's animation and lyrical storytelling bypassing what's supposed to be realistic. That's one of the medium's very special abilities...

Like, most people watching those Disney animated classics back when they came out were so engrossed in the stories and even the romances, because animation like that is really on its own plane of existence, operating on a unique wavelength that really makes it all register so seamlessly. But there's also plenty of substance & depth in what's being told, as it's woven in there by the visual (and sometimes visceral) storytelling itself. That's a big thing for me with Disney's animated movies, that they can establish so much in such short bursts in an 80-90min runtime.

A lot of what's often said about certain animated films reminds me of "style over substance", which is a phrase I absolutely can't stand. The style *can* be the substance, actually... it's there if the one watching is on the film's wave. Otherwise, it's just pretty pictures and noise to them.

A lot of my favorite Disney animated movies play this game very well, going all the way back to Walt's output. That there can be so much feeling, emotion and ideas in mere drawings mixed w/ music, dialogue, editing choices, etc. It's often hard for me to explain, but I naturally feel it whenever I watch it.

And that's not even getting into the language of fairy tales and fantasy stories, often laden with symbolism and metaphors and such, which are also on their own wavelength entirely. I feel, when you try to take all of that so literally, to make it "realistic" and feasible in another medium, let alone apply these ideas completely to *real life* itself... you're breaking it apart and overdressing it. Hiding its unique essence, ripping it away even. The fantasy element is dialed down, which kind of takes away from the whole appeal?

As I get older and I really try to nail how I write fantasy stories myself, I find the connection between this kind of fantasy and reality fascinating, how they in different ways inform each other. Not in the sorta "cute" ways that you can put into a neat little box ("Disney movies once taught me-"), but much more complex than that.

I'd say in terms of a recent live-action fantasy movie, one of the most interesting was David Lowery's THE GREEN KNIGHT, an adaptation of Arthurian legend, which really embraced a kind of lyricism and dream-like logic that you don't often see these days. Even in mainstream animated movies that favor talking heads scripting over this kind of thing. Naturally, it was "confusing" for some. I know I was kinda lost when I first saw it, but I couldn't stop thinking of the intricate texture of the piece after I left the theater. It's a feat when a movie of any kind can preserve that onscreen, not what was only in the text.

Of course, a classic animated movie isn't immune to criticism, but sometimes I think a lot of what I see written online is done out of misunderstanding of the animation medium (does that peer pressure from when they were 10 years old still linger in their heads?), and there's a lack of media literacy there as well. As if the CinemaSins crew are in charge here, nitpicking small things that don't matter while missing the much bigger picture. Animation and fantasy like this require a nuanced perspective to dig in, I feel.

Animation itself, when executed like this, is just really on a whole other field... And those who dig the films so much, I feel they naturally get it and don't knock the movies for these perceived "issues". Nor make rash generalizations about a whole body of work, which is also common with some folks who talk a good show about Disney animated movies. Even Disney themselves, which is always concerning, but this is nothing new. As far back as the late '80s/early '90s, various people who worked for them or on their movies echoed these kinds of weird reductionist sentiments, too... And I feel it really all boils down to... These movies are animated. Thus shallow, for children, lacking, without much substance...

If not that, then I feel it's a misunderstanding of how these outlandish stories work and what level they are on... Almost like it's being reduced to a "that was weird!" MCU-level joke, or- Again, fodder for CinemaSins or some garden variety Nostalgia Critic-style video.

[anshiel]

OKAY FOLLOW UP QUESTION how exactly does the whole split destiny thing affect the characters? how do they handle it?

(follow up to this)

I'm glad u asked :)

how it happened was definitely under strange circumstances and strange Divine intervention/planetary alignment(look i like moon and sun symbolism,whaddaya want)

So let's get to surface level stuff first or just the powers, i already wrote about the weapon summoning(like I'm not really sure if it's an arsenal or a specific weapons kinda thing but I've mostly settled on offensive weaponry/ a sword for Tiivi and defensive, etc. for Madis, like they can summon any weapon honestly but i think it comes down to preference) and possible blurring of lines between powers(Madis starts maybe understanding animals around him and hearing words from his cat. In turn Tiivi's luck seems to some days be either drastically good or bad) and overall state of being(hearing the other's thoughts occasionally, getting nicks and aches where there shouldn't be but the other got hurt, etc. Real soulmate shenanigans, these changes become more apparent post timeskip since they've been separated then) but i should get back to the beginnings and the handling of the situation here also .

(break w first-ish drawings of these guys here that weren't in the last post, was getting down vibes mostly)

Madis does not like this shit at all since this just pushes him further into the"wuh oh, look at this guy he's strange and unusual<--" territory and this is a nightmare come to life, so he'd rather get rid of this destiny and new power with a connection to this weird girl and intimidating adult.

Tiivi on the other hand is thrilled! (finally proof that she's special and better than people said!) she also doesn't mind sharing the destiny considering she just moved to a new town and doesn't have a lot of friends,(new bestie unlocked!) Also thinks Süsi is a cool person(immediate idolization target acquired) and usually doesn't get to interact with those kinds of people often

Aaah, Süsi, my guy does not understand how this happened and is now trying to figure out a way to undo this thing in the background. In all honesty she's the type who acts aloof but put's the world on their shoulders and feels like this is her responsibility, which is probably why he decides to introduce and teach them about magic and this stuff in the first place, since they seem confused and need some guidance(even if she might not be the best person for this).

(Just wanna share art of these guys and since this is a convenient spot, here's me trying to design that selkie girl who crushes on tiivi)

There's some stuff at the climax of the first half of the story when an antagonist basically tries to steal those chosen one powers from Madis, but it doesn't work because he didn't consider the connection between he and Tiivi and that is something fundamentally holding most things back from cutting them off, it's also a final nail in the coffin so to speak about how connected they r, also people thought the power was halved between them but turns out it actually doubled so oopsies.

anyway unrelated images of post timeskip antagonists(mostly) because i forgot i had these and they look pretty cool

[demonsfate]

ashdkfk so true!!!! You are absolutely right on everything!! Boy it is SO refreshing to read opinions like yours because I feel like many people love to bring the same thing about "but Jin created a war--" WELL. Actually! that wasn't Jin. idc what Harada says, but at least he saw the huge mistake he made and is now kinda fixing it on T8. I really like DJ but.. he's *not* Jin. But yeah, I'm not surprised someone said that about Josie :/ ... I've read other things re the female characters, especially about Xiaoyu and Asuka. Whenever someone says they're generic or smth I go "Can't read suddenly idk". As you said Tek has lots of unserious stuff. And it was one of the things that bothered me on 7 bc the Mishimas had their serious storyline while the rest were like,, for the lulz.. I don't think they even bothered to do more than that.

Also the thing you said about Heihachi took me out lmao. I wouldn't be surprised if they bring him back, SOMEHOW. But thank you! Tbh I get hyped whenever I see your posts getting hyped over T8 (if that makes sense?? my English sucks) love how you write Jin! I can’t wait for the game. Hopefully, it will be as great as it looks. I need it like yesterday lol. Btw, I'm starting to think I should go by "hype anon" or something(??)' (I'm going to stop talking now this is way too long I'm sorry! :| )

Thank you!! And YEAH - it's easy to look at a character, and poor writing, and see that it's something the character wouldn't do, and say "this isn't the character lol." But the Tek fandom just CAN'T seem to wrap that around their head!

I like DJ a lot, too! But totes, he's not Jin!

Now it seems like we now have 'em both referring to each other as different people! And well, I guess ppl forgot this - but even in TK2, we saw Kaz fighting against Devil Kaz. Which may just be seen as symbolism - but in TK4, Devil Kaz even refers to Kaz by name, asking what he's doing. (And plus Heihachi didn't recognize Devil Kaz as Kaz.) So because of this, I always saw DJ and Jin as different people - just habiting the same body. I also find this concept to be much more interesting than trying to claim DJ is just "Jin but evil!11!!1 his dark desires!!1!!!" Just because that concept if sooo generic and overused for fighting games. Mortal Kombat has their revenants which is just that, and Street Fighter as Ryu and Evil Ryu. And since I wrote in the MK fandom once - I already wrote that concept and I'm bored with it. Jin and DJ being enemies who are forced to share a body is very fascinating to me.

So, that's also why I roll my eyes when I see ppl say that TK6's writing is "justified" because DJ represents what Jin really wants. (Fuck off with thaaat.) And even if somehow, someway, Jin did go "dark." I don't see him behaving like DJ. I see Jin behaving more angrier and aggressive - but not sadistic and maniacally laughing and stuff.

Funny thing is - I actually wasn't too happy with Xiao's depiction in the Bloodline anime because I felt they made her more generic than she is in the games. XD Imo, not many of the Tek characters are "generic." Yes, they all have tropes. (Xiao's the bubbly schoolgirl, Jin's the stoic main character.) But like, many characters are built upon established tropes. It's how they're written and how they actually act with those tropes that make them unique. I really don't see how Asuka's generic. Even if she can be a bit pointless to her family's story, she can be entertaining as a character personality wise imo.

AND YEAHHH - I may also be in the minority who didn't completely hate the TK7 story like many people do. But I def agree they fucked the other characters up completely. Like yeah, I still have gripes about the TK7 story - but at least it was taken seriously. And Heihachi did stuff and was taken seriously again. (Unlike you know, in TK5 and TK6 where he has endings of him sending his family to... Space to kill them.) But my God, I finally got around to unlocking all the character endings a few months ago and TK7 probably has the worst character endings - maybe even worse than TK6 (if not just as bad. As TK6 wasn't all juvenile humor, but a lot of them was just short 30 seconds of Nothing Happening) I'd say Miguel probably had the best ending - if it didn't remind of TK6 and made me angry because of that.

I feel like they will bring back Heihachi - even just to be in the roster, and not alive. Just because even if the character is dead - players still liked his style, and therefore, enjoyed playing as him. I feel like they could pull a Kazumi, and have Heihachi in a flashback, and thus he can be in the roster because of that. Lots of people are saying "they could make clone or robo Heihachi - or even a new apprentice!" But really, I think Flashback Heihachi is most likely. Honestly, I wouldn't really mind if TK8 brought in a lot of "dead" characters as DLC. Like they're just DLC, and most Tek characters have no impact on the story anyway (LOL) So... what would be the big deal? It'd be nice to see Jinpachi or Ogre again.

Don't worry about your English! You haven't said anything that was unclear to me yet, so it's been all good! And thank you soooo very much about that!!! I love writing this character, and I love my concepts - so it's always joyful to know others do, too. <3 And I really like talking to you about the games! As said, it gives me an excuse as well to ramble all my ideas! Which is funny bc you were worried about going on to long, but now I'm going on way too long. xD

[taffywabbit]

really warms my heart to see how many ppl have reblogged this with tags or comments about how having a fursona has improved their life in some way, or (even cooler!) how this post gave them enough of a push to start thinking about creating one! i kinda just wrote this post on a random whim and didn't expect such a widely positive response.

for me personally, my sona often fluctuates between being a very personal and euphoric self-insert that i can project ideas and emotions onto, and just sort of a funny little art mascot i can use to represent myself online, so sometimes i kinda forget just how dearly beloved these little personalized critters are by a lot of people. like "making a fursona and having that as an emotional outlet saved my life" type stories. it's cool as hell and i'm really happy for them!

however, a lot of folks who are in the "i don't have a fursona but now i might wanna make one" camp seem to frequently be unsure where to start with this stuff, though, so i thought i'd offer a little advice for that!

first thing is that this process is gonna come down to a little trial and error most of the time. none of your decisions are set in stone, you can always change things up later as you see fit (and hell, you can even have multiple fursonas for varying moods/purposes/etc if you want! people do it all the time. also, lots of folks give their fursonas hybrid traits, like a cat-dragon or a shark-wolf or a griffin or whatever, so that's an option too! mix-n-match)! people are complicated and a fursona always serves as a great canvas for personal experimentation and expression, whether you've had them for a decade or a day already.

focusing specifically on the choice of animal tho, it's handy if you already have a favourite animal for one reason or another (maybe aesthetically, behaviorally, symbolically, or some mix of these) but your favourite animal isn't always gonna be one that you think really represents you personally. that's fine! i adore cats IRL but i could never really see myself having a cat fursona. the important thing is that now you're THINKING about making a fursona, so now you can keep your eyes and ears open to inspiration when it comes along. i originally just picked a bunny because they're cute and cartoon bunnies are pretty easy/fun to draw, but as time went on i picked up loose knowledge about their traits and behaviors and realized "hey, i'm quiet and polite and loud noises make me anxious, i'm happiest sleeping and waking up at unusual hours, i like to feel small and cozy and safe, i'm a little bit mischievous but bad at serious confrontation... maybe this was a better fit than i thought!" and now i can't really imagine myself picking anything else. got it in one. but if i HADN'T lucked into that on the first try, those kinds of observations would've helped me get there eventually. look at animals, learn things about animals, and keep the thought in the back of your mind of "do i feel a connection to any of this?" as you do so. something might just click into place one day!

failing all that, idk, just pick a critter you think looks neat, give it a couple colours and some cool hair or whatever, and see what happens from there! not everyone's fursona has personal meaning to them and that's fine too! also, if you have a friend who knows you decently well (especially if they're an artist) you can usually ask them for creative input and bounce ideas off them. friends are often really good at putting a finger on unique defining qualities that you may not have noticed about yourself, and that can help a LOT with this stuff.

anyways that's all the advice i got, hope it helps! even if you don't end up actually settling on a fursona, or feeling like this is right for you in general, you might still benefit in some way from the process of reaching that conclusion and i sincerely encourage you to give it some thought if it sounds interesting to you. have fun out there!

I think more people should make fursonas and I'm dead serious. the process of self-exploration that naturally comes along with creating a funny little critter to represent yourself is SO valuable, as you consider the types of animals you vibe with and what kind of aesthetic/colours/personality/etc suit you and stuff like that (fun fact this process is how I figured out I was transgender lol. not saying that will happen to you but just proving that you can learn a LOT about yourself through this design process and any subsequent design changes)

and then when you're all done, you have a little freak you can do whatever you want with! edit them poorly into memes, commission lavish oil paintings of them to hang in your mansion, use them as a personal online mascot, design a fucked up evil twin for them to fight, soak them in milk and throw them at the wall, anything really. same stuff some people do with fandom characters they really like, except it's 100% yours and nobody can tell you you're doing it wrong! also now you have an animal your friends can associate with you and they'll send you funny pics/videos of that animal that make them think of you. literally it's just wins all the way down for you and everybody you associate with. everyone should have one of these things!!

[shiroi---kumo]

🎶

Music of the Clouds || Accepting

Sleeping Wolf - Blindfold

Kumo's playlist keeps stopping on doozeys of the ones that are on here today. So I'm going to motion to the one that I wrote for Red for a minute to give more context to Kaze and Kumo's relationships because whoo boy that context needs to be there. This song sets in a very special spot when it comes to Kumo, because of all Kumo's Alters - it is the one I say would be the theme music for The Lamb.

So the trick here is, Kaze sees The Lamb in Kumo the most - aka his self destructive habits. The other problem here is post the end of the animated series and Kumo dying again. Kaze finally gets most of his memories back of the past except he can't remember Kumo. He can kinda know there's something between them because he believes that Kumo wouldn't lie to him about the past but it's still fuzzy and it's still messy but hey he's not trying to kill him anymore!

Kumo takes this as a win.

It's just that Kaze and Kumo's relationship is excessively complicated. Kumo would do just about anything for Kaze and Kaze has to be extremely careful not to manipulate that because he knows he would too. When The Lamb fronts, Kumo's backbone is nearly non-existent when it comes to Kaze. Kumo is willing to do anything and take anything just to be around the man. His side of the Unlimiteds' obsession with each other comes out full force, and Kaze could push this man around and The Lamb would thank him for it. (I mean when Kaze kills him at the end of the animated series Kumo does thank him for it. )

He'd give anything and everything for him. So the line 'Every time your gravity has a hold on me' also ties HARD since in universal symbols Kaze is the Sun and Kumo is the Moon. It's also lines like 'Hate your love, but love how you feel' at Kaze from Kumo's perspective because Kaze has a horrible habit of acting excessively cold towards most things even if it is one of the most loving people Kumo knows. It's just the world around them doesn't know how to read Kaze very well.

___Pull me in No, I cannot resist Every time your gravity has a hold on me Shed your skin You're just a counterfeit Dressing up an empty heart, I know who you are

[Chorus] So use your, use your Use your, use your blindfold Cover your hands on my eyes, closed Do it again Tie me up and show me what's real Hate your love, but love how you feel Useless, trying to fight And the truth is, I'd rather be blind

[Verse 2] In the dark I need to taste the blood Go on, draw another line we can cross this time Battle scars Your touch is not enough I need you to pierce my veins and become my pain

[Chorus] So use your blindfold Cover your hands on my eyes, closed Do it again Tie me up and show me what's real Hate your love, but love how you feel Useless, trying to fight And the truth is, I'd rather be blind I'd rather be blind

[Bridge] I want you (I want you, I want you) I want you (I want you, I want you)

[Chorus] So use your, use your, use your Use your, use your, use your Use your blindfold Cover your hands on my eyes, closed Do it again Tie me up and show me what's real Hate your love, but love how you feel Useless, trying to fight And the truth is, I'd rather be blind I'd rather be blind Blind, blind

[talenlee]

May 2024 Wrapup!

Pride month sits on the horizon, full of rainbows and queer media and no doubt, absolutely, just the funnest time. Why would I, of all people, use June as an excuse to write about some absolute bummers or some really funny punchlines? What, me, taking corporate designated Pride month as an opportunity to make fun of things? Naaaah. But May! May happened and it uh kinda was a big deal? For me? Personally?

I feel like I use the icon of a fly for May more than I should but it’s not like it’s a month with powerful symbolism at work for me.

The Game Pile for May included:

Eureka, the Urban Investigative Fantasy Kickstarter

Murdle, the really good website and newspaper-style puzzle game

A video about Beneath a Steel Sky!

A print and play for my own game Lysen Co!

The Hugo’s House of Horrors series

I was approached about promoting Eureka, by the makers, and it was a good experience. Specifically, they sent me the thing, I showed them my notes, told them the kind of thing I would only tell them (like formatting stuff), and then … that was it. They trusted me to say what I wanted to say about the game, they shared it with their own opinions on what I had to say, and they checked if I was okay afterwards. It was really positive.

It was also one of the first times I’ve been told someone checked out, and played, and enjoyed the game based on the video I made about it. Beneath a Steel Sky got one more player this month thanks to me, which was also really cool.

I then went and released a print-and-play demo of my own game! I haven’t got my own printer’s proof copy of the game, but it’s out there and I don’t know if it’s been downloaded or not. I wanted to share it with the Print-n-Play subreddit for playtesting, and I’ve been too shy to.

Then finally, the Hero’s games is a thing I’ve kind of wanted to do for ages because there’s no way to explain the nonsense of the Whodunnit puzzle without just showing you gameplay footage of it, showing you the puzzle ‘being solved.’ It’s an area where video is genuinely the best way to do what I did. I don’t get to feel like I do that often!

Story Pile, we talked about:

Ronin, a movie about the fantasy of good spies

Endo and Kobayashi Live! The Latest On Tsundere Villainess Liesolotte, one of the worst anime of its type for just being completely lacking in anything good or remarkable about it,

A winter anime wrapup with Fox!

Pluto! A really good anime I liked a lot!

What else went up, oh, my two parter on drugs in Cobrin’Seil (part 1, part 2). An article explaining the Mormon Shelf and how it’s a useful term for use. I wrote about World building and number systems because hey you probably don’t know it but your number system is social! While we’re talking about social systems, I talked about privilege and how to contemplate it as a person who benefits from it that isn’t just like, you drip with it, and about the way that people can try and make other people make their arguments for them and also also I wrote about how we exist in a situation where ‘the right thing’ that ‘should’ work won’t.

Also? I had my 20th wedding anniversary a few hours ago. Weird day to write about!

I made this shirt design a while back, referencing a podcast I like and an activity I support (the cool and rad buying of machetes and bolt cutters which are probably useful tools for breaking locks on things like billionaires’ mansions). I still like it, you can check it out on black shirts and white shirts.

Alright, month of May, the diary, the over of it all, what about what happened in May. What happened in May? Hmm. Well, there was a birthday celebration for me, which meant I got given some homemade chilli. I got some lovely sambal, made some great curries with it. The semester wended to a close (like, tomorrow is the last day I’m going to class and that’s going to be just to play and prototype and help students out).

Comic-gong happened! Local convention! I got to see some of my former students who were really excited and we got to chat about stuff they hadn’t seen for a while. I got stickers that I then put in my bullet journal how cool is that. Hey why don’t – why do I call it that? LIke it’s my diary. I use the bullet journal method but it’s a diary, you know, I might as well put a unicorn on the cover.

Is my mind wandering inappropriately? Weird I wonder why.

I had to watch Ready Player One this month? It’s a movie I have a lot of animus towards but it’s certainly great at its task in the context, which is it’s a really well made conversation piece about what people mean and express and interpret about the things in the work they’re looking at. Even if I don’t like a thing I can still meaningfully engage with it and I love that, and I love what it gets students talking about.

Oh oh oh, we had the Suletta/Miorine vs Destiel tumblr vote this month! That was fun! I liked partaking in that and watching people get really mad about their favourite thing not being other people’s favourite things!

Basically, I had a pretty cool May. And a lot of people I know and love had awful months. Like breathtakingly bad months. Things that are hard to recover from, things that are hard to structure your life around, things that just fucking suck. It makes it hard to really think about the fact I had this month, where I got this work done and I did okay and I got to do something cool with my wife who I love.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[mylittlesecrethaven]

Bsd Is Kinda A Genius Anime: Pt 3

I think I had a plan for these next few posts, but I can't remember them, so Ima do what I want.

Since these groups are so small, I'm doing both.

Today it's Decay of Angels (which has three different names depending on if you watch the dub, sub, or look at the Fandom, so wtf?) and Hunting Dogs.

So let's do it!

(FUCK IT, IT'S LATE I'M ONLY DOING DECAY OF ANGELS! I'LL DO HUNTING DOGS NEXT TIME I'M TIRED AND I WANNA FINISH THIS I'M SO SORRY BUT I AM BRAIN FRIED)

(Emm... two things. I'm aware that Decay of Angels gets its name from a novel, but unless that's brought up in a character, I'm not going over it. Also, Kamui and Ochi Fukuchi are the same person? Soooo.... I'll go over him with Decay of Angels I guess....)

Ochi Fukuchi

Ability: Mirror Lion

The Fandom actually didn't have much on this guy's RLC, so Ima try my best, but no guarantees since it's fucking 10:30 and this is my last post of the night. ---- I still can't find much actually about him. Even his Wiki page (yes, I use Wikipedia) is lacking. I do know about his ability counterpart though. Mirror Lion is a play written by his RLC about a woman who's practicing a lion dance for New Year's, and because she becomes so engrossed in it, the spirit of the lion enters her. Just thinking about this, it is similar to his actual ability. He makes his weapons stronger, a lot like what you'd expect if the spirit of a lion entered somebody. I couldn't find anything talking about his RLC having a connection to this guy's reason for leading both the Hunting Dogs and the Decay of Angels. (I don't know his reason in the show, I'm only on episode 4.) Not much to go on really. Not a good start.

Bram Stoker

Ability: Infection

He's a vampire?! Wtf?! Ohhhh.... I get it. Ok. His RLC wrote Dracula. Makes sense. Makes sense. His RLC is also Irish, so I kinda wonder if his VA does an accent like Fyodor's does. Anyway, you can see the symbolism, yes? Dracula is a vampire, and apparently Bram is impaled, relating to Vlad the Impaler, who was the inspiration for Dracula. Easy-peasy.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

Ability: Crime And Punishment

And now to the man himself. I've been interested in doing this for him since I talked about his ability. So let's see what I can find. His RLC wrote a lot of dark and gritty books involving human emotions and psychology. (I know what author I'm looking for in the library next.) This fits how Fyodor acts pretty well. You'd expect books like that to revolve around someone like Fyodor. Hmmm... I just looked at a summary of "Crime And Punishment," and I found.... nothing. It's about this poor guy who plans to kill an old woman with a lot of valuables and steal them, but after he does that, he's wracked with guilt, and goes through a ton of mental anguish, and he has to live through the consequences of his deed. This... doesn't do anything for figuring out his ability. I know Fyodor's ability can let him manipulate people's memories, and that's connected to the book, but it doesn't help figure out who his ability affects or how he can control it! So for now, I'm gonna stick with the idea that Fyodor can't kill gifteds, because I can't find anything or anyone talking about the gifteds he's killed with his ability. Moving on the book that inspired the Rats in the House of the Dead, "The House of the Dead," it's a semi-autobiographical novel about a fictional person going through life in a Siberian prison camp, based loosely on Fyodor's RLC's time in a forced-labor prison camp. Emmm..... Idk. I guess it kinda connects to the fact that the group was really temporary? Idk. I'm getting brain fried right now, so if anybody has any idea for connections to the Rats in the House of the Dead, lemme know.

Nikolai Gogol

Ability: The Overcoat

Oh shit, he's Ukranian? I thought the name was Russian. My bad. Oh, wait, his RLC is a Russian of Ukranian origin. I don't understand what that means, but whatever. His RLC wrote a ton of books, usually all tragedy with slight shifts in genre, such as political tragedies and tragecomedies. "The Overcoat" was a short story written by Nikolai's RLC about.... oh shit this book is insane. It's about this poor man who's made fun of for his coat at work, so he obsesses over saving money and buying a new one. He finally does and shows it off so happily, but on his way home he gets beat up by two ruffians and they steal his coat. The police won't help him, and after being recommended to ask by someone else at work, he asks a higher up at work, only to be yelled at for disturbing the higher up with a trivial matter. A little afterwards, the man falls ill and dies. A ghost is soon seen around the city taking people's overcoats, and it's the man's ghost. The police can't catch him. He finds the higher up who yelled at him and spooks him, then steals his overcoat. His ghost isn't seen again. The story ends by talking about another ghost sighting, which meets the description of one of the ruffians. Insane, right? Which I guess fits Nikolai. Anyway, his ability really comes from what another author said about the book, which was "We all came out from under Gogol's Overcoat." So.... yeah.

Sigma

Ability: Information Exchange

My last one and then I can sleep..... please.... sleep.... Wait. This guy doesn't have an RLC. What? Oh. So apparently he has memory loss, which could be the link to him not having an RLC? Idk.

Anyway, next I'll be doing Hunting Dogs. That should be fun.

(I really need to stop doing these right before I go to sleep. *sigh*)

[geee-three]

i wrote my response in the tags at first because this whole post is just buildup to my joke at ULTRA C but actually i wanna make something clear.

i am not talking about how good the art is.

i am talking about if the animated 2dmv manages to create an impact that is complimentary to the song or expresses the same emotions as the song in a way that is digestable and also more complex if you poke around a bit.

RAD DOGS has amazing art. the art-based animation is fucking fantastic. Rella is an amazing artist, i dont want to take away from that. the everything else is iffy. there's about three transisions that are overly flashy, it's distracing when in-game (which, for these specific mvs, is important to consider!) and they're overused - when you're watching to try and judge the mv, you get sick of it pretty quickly.

RAD DOGS is propped up by Rella's artwork.

A more... egregious example of this is Jackpot Sad Girl, where the lighting and posing make it difficult to see anything (which i guess is the point but it doesnt make for a very effective mv) and it just feels cluttered, it lingers on the wrong things for too long and the good sections, i.e. where two members are singled out and placed in front of a glowing screen during the chorus, are done badly, i.e. there is a neon pink screen that is the most saturated thing in this mv and doesn't fit thematically, either. these are all problems i have with RAD DOGS. (ahem ahem akito turns the screen neon orange. it's literally more saturated than his unit colour i checked.)

RAD DOGS suffered from being an early game mv in the exact same way as Jackpot Sad Girl. it's the first 2dmv for vbs. it doesn't fit toya's vibe. it's just nowhere near as good as any other vbs 2dmv. play RAD DOGS and Forward side-by-side, and you'll get it - Forward is more than just art, animations and effects. (i mention Forward because it release earlier than RAD DOGS. however it released with a 3dmv which has a lot and i mean a lot of problems too, again these are most more egregious in another 3dmv, namely Newly Edgy Idols. vbs, overall, has pretty decent mvs in the early game.)

i'm not doing a full analysis of RAD DOGS. but it's a bad mv, compared to other vbs mvs. the fact that the only thing you mention on a post about the mv is the animation and artwork is either proving my point or showing that the proseka fandom has yet to seperate art from mv. you literally have mizuki and ena, they're seperate roles and you are directly told that they both take equal effort. if you can seperate lyrics from melody you can do this.

(for the record, i'd also rank ULTRA C pretty low. it's funny to joke that it's an acid trip but the mv is. not good. what the fuck? why? that's not symbology that's just symbols. why does brain have carbon-60 in it?/ref)

again, sorry if this was a little harsh. i dont mean to be, im just kinda a little autistic about this and it annoys me when people conflate it for something else.

og tag response below ↓↓

#prev i didnt mean that rad dogs is bad!! youre right its a great mv BUT it falls into the catagory of mvs where they couldve simply been#better if they weren't setting the stage for future mvs to be good. other such mvs are newly edgy idols and jackpot sad girl!#and yeah! the art is fucking fantastic as is the animation! thats mostly whats propping it up though#and im trying to judge the actual mv not the art included yknow? like i care more about whatever mizukis doing than ena! le motion!#crazy is that good BECAUSE of guu (the guy who did the mv). art's amazing but by itself its not much in comparison to other sekai 2dmvs#ofc this is my opinion. im not god this isnt gospel

vbs 2dmvs come in three genres:

RAD DOGS - suffered from being an early-game mv, didn't know what vbs mvs were supposed to be like. relies on animation and flashy transistions, but is better than just zooming in-and-out on the key artwork. (this one actually has two key artworks but whatever)

CRaZY - masterpiece. never feels boring, gets the point of the lyrics across in two languages at once, (the play of baiburu/bible always gets me) shows emotions fully, honestly one of the best mvs in the game. explores akito's relationship with every member of vbs fully, incl luka. i could talk for hours.

ULTRA C - arata gave the kids acid by accident and is currently scrambling to find ken before ken finds him

[dzpenumbra]

3/29/23

Today has been... a surprisingly good day. Very overdue saying that.

I had a couple super intense dreams. So... I obviously didn't sleep well. The first one was about me linking up with my old bandmate from college to go skate, which is odd because he never skated... hey, maybe I was just trying to find that type of person, yeah? That makes more sense. But anyway... I was trying to find them and I ended up in this situation where there were actual tigers prowling around, like I was in a zoo kinda area and they seemed reeeeeally fucking interested in me.

And... I don't know if you've ever been in this situation before... so... I guess kinda light trigger warning for people who are afraid of large animals... but I used to own a German Shepherd. She passed in June, I miss her dearly, I used to call her my "sidekick", but more often than not I felt like I was hers. XD Since they day I got her she was incredibly friendly and playful. Which, to someone who has never really... played with dogs before? Because my mom is obsessed with like... military-level dog training. Yep, wonder why I ended up with a crippling anxiety disorder when I was raised in that home... XD So... there was no such thing as "play with the dog" short of throw a ball and "train recall". And my dog wanted to goddamn play.

So... the reason I'm telling this context... I remember one of the first nights back... after I drove her back up a 10 hour drive by myself, having known her for like... 12 hours total... I remember her getting on my bed and we were hanging out and she started getting playful and rolling over. And I remember being above her, and her with that big goofy fucking smile on her face that she always had her entire life. She was like... 2 at this point. And she noticed me right above her while she was on her back and she locked eyes with me with her big-ass teeth out and went completely still. And I had a moment there where I thought... "oh shit, is she going to attack me?" Like... she was still a strange dog to me, this was the first time she showed her belly to me, in my inexperience, that was a moment where I really really needed to be very deliberate and very kind and respectful. Really slow and careful. Now... knowing Cerry... in hindsight... there was little chance I would ever get that wrong. And even if I did, she would just run away or something. But that feeling, that situation, that is what I'm trying to refer to with this story.

I had that feeling, that situation, with like 2-3 full-grown tigers crawling all over me, pinning me down, playing with me. Grown-ass tigers. Gigantor fucking animals. I knew they were playing, and they really seemed very fond of playing with me to the point where they wouldn't stop following me and tackling me. But I also was thinking "do not move your fingers, they may think they're food or something." That feeling is very palpable. And it's pretty familiar, too. It's anxiety. Well... actually... panic, right? It's more like... in-the-moment panic.

And then I remembered after I woke up... I wrote in my journal last night about tigers. So... I guess whatever point I was making there, it was a really important one for me. And it was hard to overlook the convenience of the tiger being my sorta... adopted persona/spirit animal from a time in my life that I was very confident and ambitious. It became the symbol of a time in my life when I was rebuilding and reconnecting with my inner artist, and the tiger was the strength and courage I needed to do that. My spirit animal now? I have a lot. The owl is pretty clearly represented here. For streaming, that persona has a chipmunk. My personal ones are red-tailed hawk and crow.

Kinda symbolic how I adopted a tiger as a spirit animal, got a shit-ton of courage, ended up getting the shit beat out of me emotionally because those around me were legit scared of me, ended up crumbling, having my life fall apart again... having to essentially kill-off that entire persona... then rebuild... and my new persona... was represented by a chipmunk? A super skittish, shy, run away the second you hear a loud noise little dude? Like... how fucking post-traumatic is that? XD It's like, almost too on-the-nose. Could we get a bit more creative, subconscious?

Anyway, that was my first dream, my second one was about... my older brother. Who was a cop in this dream, he is an investment manager in real life. He was... neglecting his dog. I said neglecting to avoid using the word abusing, but it was done through neglect, in this dream it was leaving him out on the porch for hours with him barking endlessly. But yeah, the image of the dog's face was like... painful... haunting. It still is, it's seared into my head. So... it was a tough dream. Two tough dreams, back to back. But I journaled the second one, so that was improvement!

I got up and did yoga, which was really nice. It was a really chill flow that didn't push me too hard, it hit a lot of good spots, added some new poses I've never done before, it was cool. I got food. I did dishes. I watched a cool video about how snowflakes are formed, which was absolutely batshit crazy. I passed out for... an hour and a half?

When I got up, I hopped in the shower and... get this... actually got myself to go to the skatepark. Yep. I actually. Went. To. The. Skatepark. Today. =)

I got really nervous, I almost didn't go. I had this overwhelming force pushing back. I pulled up the worksheet that my therapist gave me, the one on "challenging negative thoughts". Instead of listening to the protective instincts that were overreacting at the moment, I put the "that's lame, that won't work" thoughts aside and actually did it. And it actually helped.

These self-protective thoughts have deep roots. They have a lot of conviction, and they know me very well - because they are me - and they know exactly what heartstrings to pull on to make an argument. I remember where it set in. Here, I might as well run through what I remember of the worksheet.

My thought was... something bad is going to happen if I go, more of a general feeling than an actual thought-out thought, if that makes sense. Just a really strong "I shouldn't go down that dark alleyway..." vibe. Is there substantial evidence for my thought? No Is there evidence contrary to my thought? Yes Am I attempting to interpret this situation without all the evidence? Yes What would a friend think about this situation? They would think I'm overreacting or paranoid. If I look at the situation positively, how is it different? (I don't remember my answer to this one, probably something like "it would be fun") Will this matter a year from now? How about five years from now? That's where I went into... yeah, it could, if I end up losing opportunities from this. Like... if I piss someone off and burn a potential bridge, or get a really big ticket that puts a big dent in my bank account, or something. If I fuck up potentially meeting someone really cool, or getting a client or getting into a gallery or something, yeah, that would definitely matter in five years.

But... that sentiment could be fucking associated with anything. Like... I could walk to the trash room right now, at 2 AM, and run into someone who is a gallery owner locally and they could see my hoodie and go "wow, I am in love with that piece, do you have any other work, I'd love to give you an exhibit and big fat check and also marry my daughter." And by NOT going right now to the trash room, and writing this instead, I could have missed that opportunity forever. THAT is the kind of logic I'm working with, that keeps me agoraphobic. Yep, I'm adopting the "a-word" again, because this is definitely fear-based.

THAT SAID... I put on my hoodie, I put on my sunglasses, I grabbed an apple, I made a reservation for the shared car, I put my earbuds in and I fucking walked to the truck. No hybrid board, just hoofed it about a mile. And I figured out the whole car thing really easily, it was very simple. The truck was... a bit old, and rattled when I hit the gas, but... not the first time I've driven a truck like that luckily, so it was cool, it was actually kinda nice. It had the crank windows and everything, very nostalgic.

I drove to the skatepark and went on in. Very little anxiety. Just a little... awkwardness finding my personality and my voice, since I hadn't interacted with another person more than in-passing in... almost a week. That shit... it's so fucking weird. It takes me a few minutes to adjust, it's like... I don't know how to describe it, it's kinda like... waking up? Kinda? Like the first few seconds when you first wake up. I don't know, I'm foggy at first until I get my bearings. Very hard to describe. Having an established relationship with that person helps a lot.

But I got into the groove easy. And I ended up getting a full complete board and a helmet. I was stalled out on buying a deck for a long time, I tried to share my experience and shit, but again... it's hard to like... explain that I do know how to ride... I used to skate every day in college... I just... don't know how to kickflip because I just fucking skipped it, I guess. And I took like 7 years off because of what I now call "an injury". And decided to get back into skating through snowskating instead of skateboarding about 4 years ago. So... I'm not brand new, I just skated like... a few weeks ago in the park. And I skated the skatepark in my old town pretty much every day for the last few weeks of fall. Until the snow started falling, basically. I'm just... I haven't really gotten my legs back yet. And my old board... was from 2009ish. The skating technology has changed so much. And, ironically, most of what I got was kinda... the same kinda shit I would've gotten back in the day. Bones Reds, Spitfire wheels, Indy trucks. So I was kinda just stumped on the deck.

I was telling him I was looking for a wider board, because my old one was like a 7.25-7.5 or something, it was super narrow. I really didn't like my toes hanging off it. I was used to riding it, but like... if I'm getting a new board, I'd like it to be more like my snowskate, which is super wide. Because I'm more used to riding that size deck. I ended up somewhere in-between. An 8.25... And I think my snowskate is close to a 9 or something. And the deck does feel absolutely fine, I like it a lot. After running through a couple options of board shapes, I told the dude... I'm probably just gonna get used to whatever I'm riding anyway, so... since that's the case? I might as well just get something I like, right? And I saw some boards from a small company run by a family that went to my high school. A bunch of brothers whose dad... interestingly enough... failed me out of English class and was one of two people who were responsible for putting me into a special education program. Like... I almost flunked high school because of that dude. And... he was kinda right. But... you help people like that, you don't punish them.

You'd think I'd be angry about it. I had my fair share of time to be angry. I now love him for how things turned out. Because his approach to English was... by-the-books bog standard English shit. And what I got to do in my special ed course... with my teacher... Ed... hahaha... was... I got to learn about the Beat Poets. I got to learn about stream-of-consciousness writing. I got to learn about abstract poetry forms and spiritual hybridization with writing. I got a gigantic steroid shot to my creativity gland that opened up gates that... were some of the most formative moments in who I have become as a person today. Like... this, right here, is stream-of-consciousness. A skill I've refined over decades of practice. Brain dumping with zero editing (minimal at most). Literally every piece of music I have made since I was 17 was using these principles. Most of my art has elements too. It is truly the foundation that my creative self was built from. So... though he did fuck me over... and it would've been cool to be on his good side and get to skate with his kids and become friends with them and then maybe be a pro skateboarder on their team right now... I would not be who I am today without the choices he made. And for that, I love him. So, thanks, dude whose name I'm not going to say online.

His sons are cool shit, they have their own skate company, they make their own merch and decks and their own skate videos. I actually should watch their videos too, honestly. Maybe I'll set out to do that tomorrow or something. So yeah, I ended up buying one of their boards. The one that was the pro model for the son that I actually skated with way back in the day one time in a parking lot by the car dealership that fucked me over. XD I felt like it was a nice gesture, to support my hometown heroes, and it's a cool board too.

I skated in their park for like... the duration of one song. I skated like an absolute newbie for the first bit. And I really couldn't figure out why. Now, in hindsight, I get it. 1). nerves, 2). not at all used to new bearings that actually work and go fast, 3). super slick indoor concrete, 4). brand new hard wheels, 5). loose trucks when all I've ever ridden was super duper tight-to-the-point-of-not-being-able-to-move-nearly-at-all trucks. Enough reasons?! Despite that? I got some decent ollies in. I could pivot on banks. And I actually did a pretty decent BS noseslide on a super low curb-ledge thing. Like... I did an actual trick... on my brand new board... my first time on it... when I could barely ride it 5 minutes prior.

Oh, before I forget, since I do have to wrap this up because it's getting really late. There were two kids working there. The guy that was helping me was doing a good job, he was a college kid. He just seemed a bit anxious, or introverted, either way. More respectful and distant. The other guy who got in from doing a lesson, he was exhausted, but he started to chat with me once the shop cleared out. And... he was a legit extrovert. And it's been a long time since I've been in direct interaction with a pure extrovert. What a fucking feeling man, good lord. This kid - god, I'm getting old... - was from my home town. I was just shooting the shit about how I wasn't used to having indoor parks available, the dude asked where I'm from and he was from there too. And then it was like... okay, this guy gets me... and I opened up completely. He asked what school I went to, we shared stories, he had tried the car sharing service too so we both recommended it to the guy who helped me pick out my board, they recommended the skatepark in my neighborhood, they said it's their favorite park around. It was just overall a really cool experience. Though it was kinda jarring to have the kid ask me what year I graduated and I said "2004", and he went, "oh no shit, class of 2018 here!" And I was just like... fuck. I think I literally said "oh hold on, gotta dust off my bones real quick, good lord." So... that was a reality check and a half!

But that was a really nice experience. Mainly... and I'm just going to preface this by saying there's a chance it was just an effect that extroverts can exude sometimes, but it felt authentic. It was very refreshing to talk to someone that was actually interested in what I had to say. Yeah. I didn't realize how fucking long it's been since I've actually sat and talked to someone and they were actually listening, and invested in what I was saying, and paying the fuck attention and not scrolling on their phone or browsing social media or playing a game or preparing their next statement or something. This guy felt like he was sharing the moment with me, and as a hermit... that's like solid gold for me. I didn't care at all how big the bill for the board was, I had already gotten what I live for. Genuine social connection. Genuinely being in a moment with someone, the way I try to share moments with others - fully. Connecting.

This made such a big impact that I didn't care that I dropped my phone on the sidewalk when got back to the parking spot and cracked the screen. I skated a bit on the way back. I skated pretty much all the way back, actually. Which was such a fucking refreshing feeling. Oh my god. The feeling of sidewalk concrete under my feet? The cla-clack cla-clack cla-clack. The fuzzy feeling in your toes. Man, I missed it so much. And as I went back, I just got off my board every time I passed people, so I didn't piss people off. And they seemed to respect it, I guess. And two old guys made some comments. One pointed out how bumpy the sidewalk was and I laughed and agreed. The second asked for a ride! So I offered him my board! We had a good laugh, he said he had arthritis and was in his 60's and was really encouraging me to skate and keep exercising, "use it or you lose it" kinda attitude. And I really appreciated his encouragement. It's one of those small casual interactions that... means a lot more after the fact than you show them in the moment. I hope he regains his mobility and his pain lessens. The fact that he's even out there is such a big step, and I'm really proud of Anonymous Older Man #2.

Okay, it's almost 3 so I really do have to go. Getting used to this earlier schedule, don't wanna spoil it. I would love to, weather depending, try to take my hybrid board up to the park in my neighborhood tomorrow or something. It's only a couple blocks, and it should be in a part of town that's totally okay to skate in. Could be a nice adventure!

No need to reset the vibes today, it's all good vibes except for the tremendously big piss I need to take right now. XD

[ctoastwrites]

the snake and the rabbit

the white rabbit hops through the grass, searching for something. the snake watches, slowly slithering along a path that would prevent her from being seen.

"yeah, i know."

robin unlocked the front door, stepping through and shutting it behind them quietly. they weren't paying attention to their surroundings, too busy turned around on the phone and taking their shoes off.

"mhm. we can do that, but don't delete the part with the pictures." they put their bag on a hook next to the door. "ohhh. okay! i'll-" robin turned around and saw their mother on the couch, staring at them and holding a glass of wine. they shivered and felt as if they'd committed a terrible crime. "um.. i'll have to call you back." the rabbit stops dead in their tracks, lifting their head. they suddenly felt like prey, but they didn't know why. the snake began to get closer, the grass around her rustling. "sit down." she said. she didn't sound angry, but her tone was strong and robin couldn't help but obey. they sat on the side opposite to erin, sitting straight up and nervously wringing their hands. "i got a call today." the rabbit lowers their head, very aware of a sudden threat. the snake prepares to make her presence clear. robin bit their lip and tensed up, hearing that sentence. they had a guess as to what it was about. they'd tried to push the situation to the back of their mind. they decided it would be best for them to ask anyway. "oh? what about?" they gave erin a weak smile. the snake presented herself to the rabbit, shooting out in front of them. she flashes her fangs. the rabbit tries to stay calm. they know what happens if you run. "i got a call.." she leaned forward and set her glass of wine down, leaning back and putting her hands in her lap. "..about you." robin felt sick. "that there was a possibility you tried to start- or at least participate in -a fight. you wouldn't do that, would you dear?" the snake made herself taller to intimidate the rabbit. they tried to be smaller, giving her what she wanted. "no, of course not!" robin quickly defended themself. "i had gotten knocked into a locker, that's all! when i went to the nurse to get ice she asked. i said no. " that was the truth, after all. they knew it was intentional, but leaving out that part would be better. at least they wouldn't have to explain it- that would be hard. "i thought so." the snake lowers herself to the rabbit's level, beginning to slither around them and form a circle. the snake promises the rabbit she isn't looking for a meal. the rabbit didn't let down their guard entirely, but they did feel a bit safer. enough to bring their head back to it's usual position, anyway. "why would someone do that to you?" robin was surprised by the question. they didn't know the answer, which was why explaining in full would be near impossible. "pardon?" "well, you must've done something. why else would they push someone like you into a locker?" erin leaned forward and picked up her glass, finishing its contents and setting it back down. "i... uhm.." when robin really thought about it, they could see why erin would think it was their fault. after all, she had taught them how they should act and approach life. they had gone against nearly everything she said. it felt too restricting, but... robin wondered if they would be a better person if they would just listen to her. "yes?" erin raised an eyebrow, waiting for the answer. the snake and the rabbit stared into each other's eyes, waiting to see who would break first. it was the rabbit- they put their head back down and lower their ears. the snake has the power here.

"i think it's me." they said quietly, staring down into their lap. "what was that?" something in robin's brain said "she heard me." but it was too quiet for them to recognize as an option. erin had a way of getting people to do what she wanted, even if she didn't outright say it. they looked up with tears in their eyes. erin was right, she always was. all those times she tried to help them be better, and they didn't listen. "i said it's me! i'm the problem!" the snake convinces the rabbit she is entirely harmless. she even let them look closely to prove she wouldn't be a threat, and the rabbit was rather good at taking in details. they saw her triangle head with it's two holes. her eyes were green, with a slit down the middle. she didn’t seem dangerous. 

the snake got a close look at them as well, with their large black eyes and soft white fur. she decided they were at risk for predators that were less kind than her. she'd have to do something about it. "it's alright.. shh.." erin held robin as they sobbed apologies. they sniffed and looked up, tears blurring their vision. "i'll help you.." the rabbit tells the snake about their life. they'd gotten lost, separated from their family. they were scared and alone- and now they were grateful someone like the snake came along to help them. the snake smiles. if the rabbit didn't know any better, they would say something was hiding behind those green eyes and shiny scales. the snake points out the rabbit’s flaws and shows them how to be more like her. they became like the snake- swift, cunning, and sneaky. they thought it was strange, their behavior beginning to feel unnatural and uncomfortable. robin wasn't sure why they felt so... alone. they were starting to fit in with a crowd of sorts after finally listening to erin, yet it felt wrong. they always felt lonely and like they were playing a role that belonged to someone else. they hated it. they knew they would rather be the way they were before, but they also knew that meant disappointing erin and possibly having to sit down to really explain how they didn't fit her idea of the perfect child because they weren't that at all. robin wanted to be robin. the snake begins to grow impatient as the rabbit becomes tired of being a snake. the rabbit had started to rebel, no longer accepting the idea of being like the snake. it wasn’t good for them. she found a sick sort of happiness in seeing the rabbit squirm when they tried to be a snake. she still had power over the rabbit, even if they didn’t know that. while she convinced the rabbit she was harmless, their instincts were still to be wary. but now the rabbit was squirming less and less, and it pisses her off. she had to deal with her problem, and she had to deal with it now. "i'm sick of you disappearing all the time and acting this way! i taught you to be better than this!" "you're never here anyways, why should you care?" "don't you take that tone with me. i am an adult. you are to respect me." erin and robin argued for the second time that day. it had been a year. robin had swapped schools, now in one that didn't require uniform or specific length of hair. robin liked having short hair, and they liked it even more when it was their favorite color. they liked not having to make it straight or braid it. they liked getting to wear what they want, wearing hoodies and bright bracelets. they liked having actual friends that actually cared and liked them for being them. there was only three like that, but three real friends was better than thirty fake ones. erin, of course, had moved them with the idea that they would keep being the way erin wanted (as well as not having to spend extra money while getting to claim robin was doing better). that backfired, but she couldn't move them back. it would make her look bad. the snake begins to slither around the rabbit. she is going to end this, here and now. the rabbit realizes something is wrong when she tightens her grip and refuses to let go. she opened her mouth wide and showed her fangs- which is the exact moment the trust the rabbit had for the snake disappears. the snake had lied- she isn’t harmless. she could've ended them in one quick motion at any time she pleased.

the rabbit was disgusted. she saw how they reacted and behaved, how they slowly began to hate everything about and around them. they realized that there really was something behind her friendly facade, that she enjoyed seeing them become what she wanted. she enjoyed having them under her control. the snake moves quick, but the rabbit moves quicker. the snake's jaw snaps shut, as does the rabbit's. however, only one made their mark. the rabbit outsmarted the snake. they open their mouth and let her go. she had released her grip, startled and in pain. the rabbit ran at a speed they never thought they would reach, not stopping until they could barely breathe. they were done with the snake and they weren’t going to go back. "yeah, i know." robin grabbed a magnet off of the fridge and stuck the folded up paper underneath. they weren't really paying attention to the area around them- there was nothing to pay attention to. they were sure this time. "mhm. yeah, i guess i'm just worried." they walked out to the living room, grabbing their beat up, untied converse and slipping them on as they fell back onto the couch to tie them. the rabbit didn't do much excited hopping anymore. rabbits had short lives- they knew this much -and they'd already wasted a good portion of it being lied to. the rabbit was scared of wasting more of their limited time. they knew they were wasting time worrying about wasting time and not getting anything done, but they just couldn't bring themself to start anew. that was, until they woke up one morning scared that it finally sunk in. they needed to do something, and now. "i..." robin stared down at their shoes. they'd had them for a couple years, having bought them with their own money. they were extra proud when they did. "yh- yeah, i'm still here." robin blinked away tears as they began to think about what they missed out on for eighteen whole years. that was almost a fifth of the average lifespan- maybe even a quarter. they didn't remember what it was last, and they had never cared to know in the first place. knowing they had an expiration date and a general idea of when it could be scared them. "i can't. i don't want to- honestly.. i know they're gone for another two weeks and i can wait until tomorrow, but if i wait... i don't think i'll ever do it." robin stood up, grabbing their suitcase from beside the coffeetable and taking their bag off of the hook beside the door. "i'll meet you there, okay?" it was tough, being a rabbit in a world where others could quickly try and take advantage. but they pushed and pushed, trying their hardest to stand up for themself and those around them. the rabbit had their days- the ones where they wanted to stay in their hole where it was safe, where nothing could hurt them. but even still, the white rabbit hopped through the grass without a care in the world.

[catwithangerissues]

Haikyuu Polyship hc’s!

♚ Hey hey hey! Welcome to a little collab that @tetsurocking and I have been working on for a few weeks now! Like two but still. We each chose three different couples and wrote headcanons about a poly relationship with them!

♚ My three!: Suna x Osamu x Reader! Tendo x Ushijima x Reader! And Futakuchi x Shirabu x Reader!

♚ Make sure to check out the three couples J wrote about over on her page! I promise you’ll find some stuff ya like😉 ‘I think about polyships too much for a monogamous bitch’ -J 😂 Anyways, enjoy!

♚ Warnings: Should be none! Although I reference high school in the past, everyone involved is aged up!

Suna x Osamu x Reader Poly!

✧ When you guys were in high school, Rinta would always send you videos of Osamu and him at practice; sometimes they were videos of the twins fighting, some were of them doing little tricks with the ball to get your praise, and some were just of them waving/saying they missed you

✧ They tend to spam your little group chat with memes while you’re at work or school, and sometimes they just spam you for attention <3

✧ They both really like it when you wear their clothing. Sometimes they get pouty if you wear one shirt or the other, but they never genuinely mind. In addition to this, they basically share a wardrobe. Is that Suna’s shirt or Samu’s? They don’t even know 🤷🏻‍♀️

✧ Suna probably sends you two pictures of the ugliest things he sees in a day and and puts a caption like « haha that’s you two. » that’s it. He probably doesn’t even bother to put a period at the end (Thanks for this one, Alma!)

✧ Suna takes tons of pictures with/of the two of you, and he changes his lockscreen background pretty often because of it. His favorite pictures are the ones he takes without you two noticing, hehehe

✧ These two are both really great drivers and they’re very smug about it. Food for thought 😌

✧ When you’re grocery shopping, they probably start eating what’s in the cart before you’re even out of the store.

✧ In addition to grocery shopping, don’t even TRY to tell Osamu one brand of a certain ingredient or food is better than another, he will throw a Miya Twin hissy fit™️ lmao

✧ They both keep extras of anything any of you may need in their cars. Period stuff if you’re someone who has one, hygiene products like deodorant and an extra shirt for Suna after practice, snacks for Osamu cause the poor boy always wants to eat in the car, etc.

✧ They both like to tease, but in reality they’re big softies for you. Want cuddles? Rinta is always flopping down on top of you once you sit on the couch. Need a back or shoulder massage? You don’t even have to ask Osamu at this point, he does it subconsciously.

✧ Suna prefers dates at home, lounging around and cuddled up, movie nights, dinner dates, etc. Osamu prefers lazy errand days. Going grocery shopping, cleaning the house together, dropping something off to Atsumu or grabbing lunch on the way home, he enjoys the domesticity of life with the two of you.

✧ DOING THEIR HAIR. Styling Suna’s hair for him in the morning or helping Osamu touch up his color before he goes back to brown.

✧ Holiday decorating, birthdays, and anniversaries are always fun with these two. To others, they’re relatively reserved, with a few sarcastic comments to spare *cough cough* we all know who I mean- But to you, they’re rambunctious and sweet. Making stupid jokes to see you laugh, babying you, all the like.

✧ Someone picking on you or getting a little too friendly? No need to worry, your two tall ass, intimidating boyfriends have your back. Suna is more of the- glare daggers at them until they get the hint- kinda person, but Osamu is definitely the- throw my arm around my partner and tell the other person to back off- one.

✧ Going to Suna’s games with Osamu to support him! Osamu once pretended to be a fan and asked for his autograph, and when Suna just looked him dead in the face and kisses him everyone around lost their minds.

✧ You and Suna visiting Osamu at work and bringing him lunch so he doesn’t have to make it himself! He has pictures of you three in his office too <3

✧ The boys visiting you at work/school saying it’s to playfully embarrass you, but usually it’s something like; bringing you lunch, coming to pick you up for a spontaneous date/adventure after you clock out, or just coming to sit in your office and bug you for a little while to get your mind off of work.

✧ They are both pretty possessive, but aren’t controlling. They just like to hold you, though Suna is the more reserved one of the boys when it comes to pda.

✧ ^That said, they like to show you off- a lot. Showing pictures of you or the other boy to their coworkers and teammates is a favorite of theirs.

✧ Whatever hobbies you’re into, they like to sit and watch you do. Reading, cooking (with Osamu?😌), baking, art, music, video games, etc. They just love to watch you do your craft! You’re so supportive of them and their dreams, the things they love, they try to repay the favor any chance they get.

✧ Suna is definitely one to just sit his head on your lap or shoulder and listen to you talk all day about something you love <3

Tendo x Ushijima x Reader Poly!

✧ Tendo has a massive collection of hoodies and he loves it when you two wear them. It makes him so happy to see you guys in something that’s his, a physical symbol that you two want people to know you’re with him.

✧ Both very affectionate partners, in their own ways. vv

✧ ^Tendo wasn’t very fond of pda at first, more so he wasn’t comfortable with it because he thought you two would be embarrassed to be seen with him. Once he found out you two weren’t embarrassed of him and wanted to show others your relationship, he was all for it! Usually likes to hold your hands or lean on one of you.

✧ ^Ushijima is more subtle with his affection, not because he’s scared or embarrassed, just that he prefers to do it in private. He knows you two know he loves you, so he doesn’t really see the need to be all over you in public. But in private? That man is always hugging you or nuzzling into your shoulder- he’s like a giant teddy bear.

✧ Ushijima loves to do all the domestic shit with you two. Cooking, cleaning the house, running errands. He’s just a sucker for feeling like a lil family with his two cuties.

✧ Tendo loves to plan the dates! Though if you want to, he’ll gladly let you! He likes to plan little day adventures for the three of you, whenever Toshi doesn’t have practice or training!

✧ Tendo likes to have his nails painted by you, and Ushijima likes to watch you two <3

✧ Matching nails with Tendo??? Mhm😌

✧ Protective boyfies! Let’s be honest here, it’s unlikely you’re gonna have too many problems with these two giants standing next to you. But if there ever is one, they definitely scare off whoever is bugging you quickly.

✧ These two are some of the most comforting people on here. They both had their share of not so great things happen to them growing up, Tendo being bullied and Ushijima basically being treated like a brute. The two of them became really good at comforting people, knowing how it feels to not have someone there to comfort you when you needed it.

✧ They’re big on cuddling to begin with, but if you’re ever sad or stressed? Prepare for Tendo making a pillow fort and Ushijima baking your favorite treats. These two are incredibly supportive and comforting when you need them <3

✧ Ushijima once got so fed up with Tendo being a little brat, he threw him onto his shoulder and walked around the house like that for a good half hour. Tendo thought it was hilarious and so did you

✧ Speaking of, he seems to really enjoy carrying the two of you around at random times. Piggyback rides, bridal style, or just like a koala clinging to him, he loves it.

✧ Tendo can sense a mood change in the two of you like it’s nothin. Seriously, the guy just knows when something is bugging either of you.

✧ The boys definitely ask if they can get a pet when you move in together. Tendo has a long list of crazy animals and Ushijima keeps suggesting a hedgehog for some reason.

✧ Regardless of what you decide on, you know these two are going to treat your pet like their baby. They’re going to spoil tf outta that little fella. 100% Tendo takes a million photos of them everyday. Ushijima doesn’t baby talk, he just talks to them normally about random things like volleyball and it’s pretty comical.

✧ Visiting Tendo at his chocolatier shop! He usually has very long days, and gets extremely happy when you two pop in to see him. Please bring this baby some lunch or dinner, he’s not a big eater and often forgets too. He has pictures of the three of you in his office too <3

✧ Watching Ushijima’s games and practices! This boy can’t get enough of the praise you and Tendo offer him! He loves seeing you sport his jersey with his name on the back, and he says seeing you two in the stands at practice or during a game really helps his focus?

✧ If you’re someone who has a period, these two are so sweet and thoughtful to ya. Tendo always makes the best chocolate, and Ushijima is basically a walking heater, he runs you hot baths too! Both handle mood swings very well and always make sure the pain meds are stocked in the house. 10/10 boyfies

✧ Please let Ushijima have as many house plants as he wants. He loves them and names each of them, he’s let you and Tendo name some before too! Catch this big teddy bear talking to his plants while he repots or waters them and your heart will melt </3

Futakuchi x Shirabu x Reader Poly!

✧ Salty, sarcastic, teasy boyfies- if you’re easily flustered, prepare yourself, they are going to use it against you. Calling you nicknames and saying things they know will make you start to stutter at any chance they get. (Lookin at you, Futakuchi) (please don’t think I’m making fun of people with a stutter, I have one myself.)

✧ Very protective, though they may not show it as often as some others do. Someone messing with you? You bet they’re next to you in an instant- offering several sarcastic remarks and a menacing glare from Shirabu, Futakuchi throwing an arm around you and bending down to the creeps level to further the intimidation.

✧ Both very comforting partners, if you’re feeling anxious or upset they’ll gladly take you into a big cuddle pile. Petting your hair or cheek, and telling you all the sweet things they can think of to see you smile.

✧ ^ Shirabu picks up on your insecurities very easily, especially if they’re similar to his own, and helps you learn to cope with and improve your mental health. Futakuchi has a gift for comforting people, always knowing what to say to make you feel 100x better about yourself or anything that’s bugging you <3

✧ Let’s not even get into what they’d say or do to the person if someone hurt your feelings, let alone made you cry. We’ll leave that to your imagination.

✧ Very competitive with each other. They constantly play fight for your attention, making comments about who’s shirt you wore today or who you ate lunch with- but it’s all in good fun.

✧ Futakuchi is a sly bastard, he really loves to fluster and tease tf outta you and Shirabae. For example: When Jirou gets mad at Kenji, Futakuchi just calls him his pretty boy or compliments how cute he looks when he’s angry and Shirabu becomes a complete flustered, stuttering mess.

✧ Going to visit Shirabu at work and/or bring him lunch! He doesn’t like to admit it, but he really does appreciate when you two come to visit and eat with him, especially during long shifts where he doesn’t get to see or talk to you two very much. He always becomes a blushy mess, waving off his coworkers with a glare when they comment on it- or when Futakuchi points it out

✧ Going to watch Futakuchi’s games! He’s very open with his appreciation for the two of you coming to watch his games! Either of you wear an extra jersey of his and it’s game on. He’s mindful to ask if you’re okay with hugs after, since he’s usually pretty sweaty, though.

✧ Of the two of them, Shirabu is the more perceptive one. He can easily pick up on any of the changes in mood the two of you may have, and it makes it easier to solve any issues you may have, rather quickly.

✧ In your relationship, Shirabu also gets frustrated the easiest. Whether it be with himself or the stresses of work and school, he finds himself getting frustrated and overwhelmed rather easily.

✧ You and Futakuchi are masters at calming him down by now, pulling him into a cuddle with lots of affirmation and he feels better in no time, offering to help with his work and take a bit of the load off cheers him up quite a bit too.

✧ Your boys are both very loving and cuddly when sleepy.

✧ Both getting overwhelming soft when you’re being cute, they just start to overload. Whenever you do anything remotely adorable, they can’t help but dote on you. SOFT BOI HOURS

✧ HEAD PATS! That is all. :)

✧ Futakuchi is the type to kiss you hard during an argument while Shirabu is the type to sulk and then come over to you later that night asking to cuddle.

✧ Random hc, but Futakuchi’s car is a fucking mess, I just know it.

✧ Saw this somewhere else, but it fits him! Futakuchi says yes ma’am/sir with a huge shit eating grin.

✧ You three have a good system when it comes to planning dates, taking turns every week or so, although Shirabu tends to prefer slow days/nights at home, given his busy(er) schedule.

✧ Another random hc, but I think Futakuchi has some sort of energy drink addiction and Shirabu is constantly nagging him about cutting it out of his diet because he aggressively cares for that boy.

✧ “Stop drinking that, idiot. It’s bad for you.” “Aww, Jirou~ are you worried about me?” “Shut up,,”

♚ Hope you enjoyed our little collab! Go check out @tetsurocking ’s part on her page! Believe me- it’s good😭 be warned! It does have nsfw content! Mine was gonna but some of you can’t follow rules😤

Taglist: @sunalma @toworuu @lovie-and-co (for your boys😌)

[captainaikus]

Hello!!! How are you feeling? I just wanted to check in. It sounds like you’re kinda stressed out and I just wanted to remind you to take it easy and rest. Cause you know. You’re sick? *gently bonks head* Always remember to take care of yourself before anyone else. And that it’s your writing. You set the pace. You write for whatever reason you want to and no one can say otherwise. Also remember that it’s okay to set boundaries, those are important too. Just in general take care of yourself is what I’m trying to get at here. I hope you feel better soon. ALSO ALSO some of my favorite comfort shows I recommend are Haikyuu, Tokyo Revengers, and One Piece. Those are totally not my tops 3 favorite anime/manga of all time pshhhh I have no idea what you’re talking about *whistles*. But seriously though those shows are amazing I was just rewatching Tokyo Revengers the other day. I cant get enough. Anyways. I hope you are blessed with cool pillows, heated blankets, and clear sinuses!!! *sends many virtual hugs, the kind that go squish and are all enveloping and warm*

- ✨ anon

�� anon !! Hi (๑•͈ᴗ•͈)

I'm doing alright; roomie dropped some chocolates as an apology for getting me sick with their germs

Thank you for your kind and encouraging words *pats head* you're such a sweetheart ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა~ ♡

but yeah I did set boundaries; i'm glad to know that you guys like reading my works and i appreciate the interaction, but i don't wanna answer questions that i've already answered before; besides I know no one likes a good cliifhanger because believe me I KNOW the anxiety and suspense that you're all in and good things will come. Just let me do my magic and go with the flow of it yk?

Spoliers + rant

under the cut cause I cannot contain my love for characters

HAIKYUU!! yeah i love that anime (bokuto was one of my first anime crushes) and those episodes are so nostalgic to me ૮꒰˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶꒱ა (i'm actually remembering that scene where the principal's wig flew off and istg i laughed so hard. people were staring at me but idc)

I was in the middle of watching season 4 and I never got to finish it (i was actually looking forward to the miya twins) but yeah hq boys are so precious ଘ꒰੭˶• ༝ •˶꒱੭

TOKYO REVENGERS!! I liked the anime; since the eps are still in the making, I decided to read the manga and the last thing I remember is the fight between Terano south and Brahman? (if that's the name of the gang) i actually wrote for sanzu and hanma (hanma was probably the most likes i've gotten in the entirety of writing but eh whatevs) as well as the tokrev boys hcs. My fav character has to be Shiba Hakkai (he's baby and sweet. pun intended if you know the manga), Mitsuya (that man is a blessing. srsly.) and i really like the bonten symbols there have been days where i wanna get that tattooed but nvm. Lowkey though I am impressed with Kisaki Tetta. Like that man is so smart. *speechless*

One piece!! Zoro tho. Man ate and left no crumbs. I was actually thinking abt starting it this week (istg i always get interrupted when I'm watching anime)

*sending back bear hugs with a squeeze*

[forestwater87]

Chapter 15: Grand Gesture

Summary: GRAND GESTURE: He or she must be willing to put it all on the line now or risk losing the one thing they need to become whole-hearted. It’s life or death now.

CW: Smut in the last third of the chapter. Questionable quality.

Summer 2017

“Fuck!” Gwen felt her center of gravity shift as she leaned forward, overbalancing on the rickety chair she’d been using to reach the ceiling. It tipped perilously on two legs, then lost the fight with physics and sent her sprawling with a crash that shook the dozens of tiny papers taped around the room. She hit the ground with her hip and the side of her face, one of them making a disturbing crunch sound and both shooting bright white pain down her entire right side. “Shit!”

She was halfway to her feet, wondering if the crossed-eyes dizzy feeling was from lack of sleep, hitting her head, or marker fumes, when fingers closed around her upper arm and she was hauled upright. “Gwen! Goodness, are you okay?” David let go of her, his gaze roving around the room as he took a step back. “What happened in here?”

She looked around, taking a deep breath and noticing for the first time in hours the thick perfume of tacky glue and paint, as though David walking in had turned her senses back on. It was done, mostly. Well, no — it’d never really be done, but it was enough to prove her point.

She hoped.

While she was panicking, David had wandered over to the center of the room, ducking to avoid a string of origami animals dangling from the ceiling. “Is this for camp?”

“Yes — I mean, no, it’s from camp, and maybe we can reuse some of it but no, it’s . . . not really . . .” She’d planned this, during her mad crafting frenzy: how David would come home, wonder what she was doing, and she’d carefully tour him through everything — or maybe she’d let him get on with his morning routine while she added a few more things, made it just a bit closer to perfect.

But his presence had pulled her to a halt. She’d been like a shark all night, afraid to stop moving or she’d die, but now that he was here she felt drained, the giddy, terrified adrenaline that’d been keeping her going evaporating in an instant.

Though hey. At least she had a good reason to be tired, for once.

He frowned at her discarded supplies strewn carelessly around the room. “Are these from Art Camp?”

The question jolted her into action, and she stumbled forward jerkily, like the Tin Man without oil. “Yeah, but I already took it out of my paycheck, it’s fine. I’ll go shopping tomorrow for new stuff.” She wanted him to hear what she really meant, what she was trying to put together through exhausted babbling: that this was important, that it was worth sacrificing sleep and money for, that she loved him and she respected him and she wanted him to know that.

Finally, finally, he turned his attention to the walls. “Gwen, what is all this?”

“It’s you,” she blurted out, then winced and rested her forehead in her palm. “No, that’s not — it’s — some of the stuff you’ve taught me, look . . .” She took his hand, her nerves trembling at the brush of his fingers against her own, and pulled him toward the doorway. She’d made a messy semicircle around the room, right to left like a supermarket. Dropping his hand, she took a step back, steepling her fingers like she was praying and pressing them to her lips with another steadying breath.

She had one chance.

“Okay,” she began. “So . . .”

---

Gwen looked like she was on the verge of falling over, listing dangerously to the side as she led him across the room. There were feathers in her hair, and scraps of paper; she was speckled with color, marker and paint and even a smear of glitter glue on the tip of her nose, the pads of her fingers nearly black with a rainbow of ink that stained his hand as she held it. It was obvious she hadn’t slept, even more obvious that she desperately needed to.

But her eyes were bright even if the circles under them were dark, and she thrummed with an energy and animation David hadn’t seen all summer.

And he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt her, not when it finally felt like she’d returned to him.

“— song you taught me last year,” she said, and he felt a flash of guilt that he hadn’t been listening. She tapped the paper she’d stuck to the wall, the lyrics of his Camp Campbell song scrawled across it in uneven lines. “All the camp activities, remember? At least the most important ones.”

(It was really just the ones that fit best into the rhyme scheme, but he didn’t correct her as she moved on to a second piece of paper.)

“This is a list of all the facts about nature I’ve learned since I started here,” she continued, gesturing. This one was crammed so tightly with writing that he could barely read it, bullet points snaking in all directions and increasingly smaller handwriting as it moved down the page, until finally Gwen had started attaching sticky notes to the wall below and around the list. “I had to keep going back and adding things as I thought of them. I know I’m forgetting something, but I can’t —” She gestured around her head in a classic “scatterbrained” motion, chuckling weakly. “I’m kind of all over the place right now.”

Next: a bullseye, a pencil stuck point-first into the wall. “I couldn’t really shoot an arrow,” Gwen explained, “but remember that summer you taught me archery? I’m still pretty good at it — we went to a shooting range for Claire’s birthday last year and I was the only one who hit the target every time.”

Next: a messy drawing of a forest, a little stick figure kneeling next to a moss-covered rock. “That one time we got lost in the woods trying to find a good place for bug-catching, you got us out because you knew how to find north. You’d be pretty great in a zombie apocalypse.”

Next: a sheet of black construction paper poked through with holes, hastily taped to the back window so light from the lamp outside shone through in little pinpricks. He leaned closer and realized that they were in the rough shape of the constellations visible above Lake Lilac. “I didn't know much about stars and shit outside of, like, horoscope stuff — I mean, in the city you can’t even see them — but you always pointed out which constellations and planets were out during the summer and now I know them all too.”

And on, and on. Scale models of the crafts and activities they’d done at Camp Campbell, nature facts, and on one wall she’d tacked up a typewritten letter to the Director of Admissions at Queen’s University Belfast. Skimming it quickly, it looked to David like an application.

“I was trying to get into their Environmental Science program. I wrote about Sleepy Peak Peak and Lake Lilac,” she admitted, looking almost embarrassed. “I got in. And I mean, they’re not the best program out there, but they’re still in the top 300 worldwide so that’s pretty cool, I guess —”

“Belfast?” He leaned in closer, confirming that he’d read correctly. “Isn’t that in England?”

“Yeah.” She looked impressed, and he suppressed a weary smirk; yes, he did know a bit about the world outside of Camp Campbell. But she surprised him by adding, “I had to look that up, actually.” She shrugged. “Guess I should’ve just asked you, huh?

“Anyway, that was a couple years ago. I didn’t go, obviously,” she added, responding to his unspoken question. “International travel’s a bitch. I needed a scholarship, and my grades weren’t good enough. I think I only got in at all because of my letter.” She gestured at it, not quite meeting his eyes. “Which I never thanked you for. Or most of the stuff I’ve learned from you. I’ve been . . . kinda taking all that for granted. So, uh . . . thanks, David.”

He wanted to tell her she was welcome, that she didn’t need to thank him at all. That sharing these things with her had been the highlight of his life since they’d met, even if it hadn’t seemed like she cared about any of it. But there was a lump quivering dangerously in his throat and he didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded.

After a second she cleared her throat awkwardly and led him over to a row of stick figures hanging from the ceiling. “Some of these are from Yoga Camp,” she said, pointing at a few of the ones contorted into uncomfortable shapes, “but also all that other stuff you do. Like smile exercises —” and yes, one of the stick figures had a big pink smiley face, “— and breathing techniques and stuff. I use those sometimes when I’m having a panic attack. They really help, even if smile exercises still make me feel like a dumbass most of the time.”

The decorations started to get more abstract as they made their way around the room, simple crafts and trivia giving way to colorful scribbles and symbols, representing things he’d said to her about her relationship with her parents, her love life. “You have really good advice, you know that? You could be the next Dear Abby or something, seriously. I think that’s still running.”

(It was; he read it every morning with his pre-breakfast tea.)

“These get worse, sorry . . . I was getting tired.” Gwen jerked her chin up at a wobbly butterfly — or was it a bird? — dangling over their heads. “I use your advice about hummingbird-ing all the time. With writing, mostly, but sometimes at work or something, too.”

He gently reached up and touched the bird’s feet, watching it spin in a lazy circle. Technically the idea had been his mother’s, a way to avoid burnout by flitting from one project to another and adding just a little bit to each, instead of devoting all energy and resources to one thing and slogging through until it was done. The whole idea was part of his ethos of being a counselor — wasn’t Camp Campbell a place to get a little taste of everything, after all? He remembered explaining it to Gwen during her first week at camp, just over five years ago.

He wouldn’t have ever imagined that she’d actually remembered.

He didn’t think she remembered any of this.

But the evidence was all around him — on the walls, hanging from the ceiling, dozens of examples, mementos of the tiny moments that meant everything to him. Immortalized, remembered, in increasingly sloppy handwriting and doodles.

In the corner was a bright red card that looked familiar. David moved over to it and laughed in recognition: it was one he’d sent her after her first or second summer at Camp Campbell, when he’d seen on Facebook that she was looking for work. He tugged it off the wall, careful not to damage the cheap cardstock, and smiled down at the deer wearing a plaid hunting cap, which he’d made out of tissue paper and markers (he’d gotten much better since then, thanks to a few years of Decoupage Camps).

‘Good luck on your job HUNT! I know you’ll slay the interview!’

“I’ve kept that for years to show my friends,” Gwen said, making him jump; he hadn’t realized she’d come up behind him, but she was close enough to nearly rest her head against his. “I felt like it really captured the kind of guy you were.”

Her breath prickled the side of his neck, and he distracted himself by opening the card — ‘oh deer, is this joke going on too long? I feel like it’s overkill!’ — noticing how worn the crease was, like she’d opened and closed it hundreds of times. “Does it?”

He felt her shake her head without having to face her, stray wisps of hair that’d escaped her ponytail tickling his cheek. “Not even close.”

Unable to resist, he looked back at her over his shoulder, and she took his arm, turning him around the rest of the way. He thought she was going to kiss him — she was close enough that he could see a smeary glue thumbprint on her cheek and what looked like half a smiley-face sticker in her hair — but she just took the card from him, setting it carefully on the couch before taking hold of both his hands. Her expression was grave, shining faint with hope, and between the craft debris and her naked earnestness, she looked incredibly young and vulnerable.

“There’s more,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the far wall, “and I’ll let — I want you to look at it, but . . . I just had to tell you, I’ve been taking you for granted and it’s not right. I’ve been pretending I still think of you as this —” Pulling one of her hands away, she picked up the card again, her fingers shaking so the deer’s toothpick antlers clacked together, “— sweet, silly, kinda childish David, who belongs with someone sweet, and silly, and kinda childish. And I tried to be that and . . . I mean I sucked at it,” she said, breaking off with a weak laugh, dropping her eyes to their joined hands. “And it . . . kind of broke me. But I didn’t even think to ask if that was what you wanted, because I thought I knew what you needed, and that was — so, really fucked.” She looked back up at him, her eyes dancing with purple fire, her grip on his hand tightening. “And I — I don’t, you know so much that I don’t — I could fill the entire cabin with stuff I’ve learned from you, this doesn’t even scratch the surface.”

She paused, like she was waiting for him to interject, but David felt like he’d been turned to stone, paralyzed and unblinking while his brain whirled.

“But none of it matters if it doesn’t show . . . if you don’t know —” Her voice cracked, and she dropped his other hand, pressing a fist to her mouth. “— h-how amazing you are, how much you matter to this camp and to me and . . . and I didn’t know people could actually be happy 'til I met you. I mean, I guess I knew technically, but not that it was a real thing people actually were. But you figured it out. You’ve known what you wanted since you were a kid and then you got it and I’ve never done anything without second-guessing myself a million times but you just did it, and it meant making so many decisions about your life that could’ve turned out wrong but they didn’t because they were the right ones for you. And you knew it. You always have.” She swiped at her eyes with the heels of her hands, crying in earnest now. “You’re a marvel, David. I should’ve said that every fucking day. And I know it’s probably too little, too late, but I’m sorry. For not telling you and — and for everything.

“And I . . .” She swallowed hard, taking a few heaving breaths before continuing, and he knew she was trying to hold onto her composure even as tears poured down her cheeks, “I don’t know what you wanna do. With — with us, I mean. But you’re right, I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, and if you don’t want to . . . if you want me to leave right now or after the summer ends or if you just wanna be friends or whatever , that’s fine. A-and — if you do . . . y’know . . .” Her face crumpled, her shoulders curling in on themselves. “I love you so much,” she managed, her words harder to make out through damp, hiccuping breaths. “Whatever — whatever you want — I — I — I trust you.”

Understanding pierced his chest, a small pinhole that allowed light to pour, warm and white, into his heart.

“I trust you.”

David hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed to hear those words until that moment.

He stepped forward, plucking the card from her hand and tossing it onto the floor (he could make her another one, dozens if she wanted, hundreds) and tilting her chin up so he could kiss her. Her cheeks were wet under his palms, her mouth salty and acidic with the taste of not-quite-morning breath, and each brush of his lips against hers was broken by her pulling back to drag in a sobbing gasp, her mouth moving clumsily like she was as close to fainting from exhaustion and emotion as she looked.

It was, without question, the best kiss of his life.

He broke away to press his forehead against hers, sliding his hands from her face to cup the back of her neck and closing his eyes. “I love you too, Gwen,” he murmured, his heart fluttering at the giddily-incredulous, teary laugh she gave in response. “And I think you need to go to bed.”

She leaned back, and the bleary confusion on her face was so precious he rose up on his toes to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Huh? But what about . . .”

“I’ve got some stuff to think about,” he said, then gestured at the crafts she hadn’t shown him yet, “and look at. And after that . . . we should talk. But it won’t be a very good talk if you fall asleep,” he added with a laugh as her eyes drifted closed.

She opened them halfway, just enough to glare at him, but the effect would’ve been more intimidating if she hadn’t been swaying slightly. “’m fine.” The adrenaline that’d been keeping her going was clearly wearing off fast, and David was a little worried she wouldn’t make it to bed, that he’d just find her unconscious on the floor of the hallway. “You didn’t sleep either,” she accused, pointing at him with a finger stained silvery with graphite.

Goodness, he loved her so much he couldn’t stand it. “I had a nap.” Not a long one, but he was used to not sleeping much. “Get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“It’s already the morning,” she complained, but like a sleepy robot she turned and shuffled back toward the front of the cabin. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and shower and stuff. So I look less like a sludge goblin.”

“You do that, Gwen.” He waited until the bathroom door had clicked shut before turning back to the mess she’d made of their living room. It was almost hard to tell the difference between what was art and what was trash left over, there was so much of both; it looked like an explosion had hit a crafts store.

Gwen wasn’t someone who put a lot of effort into things she didn’t care about. It was one of the most frustrating things about having her as a coworker, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love how unabashedly honest she was, how he could read her feelings just by looking at her work.

There was the soft sound of tape unsticking and one of the decorations sagged, a corner curling away from the wall and drooping down. He pushed it carefully back into place and fumbled for his phone, setting it to camera mode.

This was worth remembering.

---

Gwen was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep; how could she, when things were still so up in the air? But she wasn’t twenty anymore, and after the exhaustion and emotional turmoil of the last few hours — days, weeks; hell, if she was being honest it’d been years since she’d truly felt well-rested — and despite the anxiety buzzing inside her skull she was out in moments.

Soft fingers in her hair drew her back to earth, and when she opened her eyes David came into focus, crouching next to her bed so they were at eye level. He smiled as she blinked at him, warmth and sunshine he probably didn’t even know he was emitting. “Goooood morning, Gwen!” he chirped, his voice way too loud for how close they were, and she winced. “Sorry,” he added, his voice dropping to a murmur. “Habit.”

“It’s fine,” she said, because she’d missed his morning bellow so much more than she could ever miss having non-punctured eardrums. She sat up, clumsily swiping at her face to double-check for drool or errant eye gunk. “Morning.”

“How are you feeling?” He hopped onto the bed, making her and everything else on the mattress bounce. He was being so . . . normal, like all the drama last night had been a dream.

Fuck it. They had some hard, painful conversations coming; she could enjoy a little bit of normalcy while her brain booted back up. “Good,” she replied, yawning. “I mean, tired, but I’m always tired so —” Her blood chilled, and suddenly she was wide awake.

There went normal. All because she had to remind him of what an unloveable disaster she was.

But when she looked back up he didn’t seem annoyed. He leaned against the wall, stretching his legs out so they dangled off the edge of the bed. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” She scoffed before she could stop herself, and his gaze flicked up to hers, taking her breath away. (God, how she’d functioned for almost four years without feeling more than a flicker of attraction to this man was unfathomable.) “Really. I want to know what’s going on with you.” His hand landed on her knee, light as a bird but blazingly warm even through her blankets. “All I want is for you to let me in.”

A swell of emotion swept up from somewhere in her chest, causing her eyes to prick with tears for the thousandth time. She looked away and sniffed as discreetly as possible — which wasn’t very, she assumed, since he immediately reached over and handed her a tissue from the pack he kept stashed in his pockets. “I mean, if you want me to complain, I can do that,” she muttered, tamping down another flow of tears through willpower. “I can complain about fucking anything.”

David’s laugh made her turn back toward him, because it didn’t have a trace of sadness or pity or anything she’d expected. It was so purely, entirely delighted , more than even he could fake, and he was looking at her like she’d said something surprising and wonderful.

“You really like it,” she blurted out, unable to hide the awe in her voice. “That I’m like this. Whiny and —” she waved vaguely “— bitchy, and whatever.”

“I don’t.” He shook his head and her stomach plummeted. But as she took a breath to respond he shifted closer, gently cupping the back of her neck so he could tap his forehead against hers. “I love it, Gwen. I love everything about you.”

A laugh burbled out of her before she could stop it, and she pulled away to hide her face. “Oh my god. You bastard. You’re so cheesy.”

His fingers closed around her wrists, tugging her palms away from her face. “I love you,” he said, kissing the skin she’d covered with her hands — the tip of her nose, each cheek, her top and bottom lip, her eyebrows.

“I love you, too.” She could already tell that if he was going to keep saying that to her she’d spontaneously combust, because this was all too cute and romantic and lovely and she still didn’t fully understand how this was happening, why he didn’t hate her.

But she’d promised she wouldn’t question his decision, whatever it was. She owed him that much.

His smile faded slightly, a faint line appearing between his eyebrows. “What’re you thinking?”

“Nothing,” she lied automatically, and when that only made him sigh she added, “I said I was going to trust you,” hating the note of defensiveness in her voice, because of the two of them she didn’t have much grounds for righteous indignation.

“Then trust me with how you feel.” It should’ve sounded too much like a cliche, something she’d tease him for, but he was right and they both knew it.

She’d put him through hell by not telling him the truth, and they both knew that, too.

Gwen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to relax. Things were — they seemed okay, didn’t they? Almost normal, but better, because all her ugliness was out there for him to see and he knew about it and he didn’t seem to mind. And wasn’t that something she’d never thought she’d ever actually find? “I don’t get it,” she admitted, her voice sounding small and stupid. “I keep feeling like . . . like I tricked you somehow. Like I didn’t explain well enough why you shouldn’t want me, because if you really got it you wouldn’t be here. Not because I think you’re stupid,” she added quickly, desperately, “because I don’t, really! But — but even smart people can be . . . I don’t know, manipulated?”

The confusion in her voice made her pause, sit back. Manipulated? That couldn’t be right, could it? She wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone, and she was pretty sure you couldn’t manipulate someone by accident.

Or maybe you could; she hadn’t always paid a ton of attention to her psych classes in college.

“I’m sorry,” she managed after a few deeply uncomfortable moments of silence. “I’m trying, I promise, but I understand if . . . you know. Whatever.” (She still hated saying it, especially now that it seemed like it might not happen. Breaking up with David was hard enough without having to say it.)

He put his arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side and kissing her temple. “Thank you for telling me, Gwen.”

“You’re not mad?”

She felt him shake his head as she rested hers on his shoulder, scooting down to make up for their (lack of) height difference. “I wasn’t really mad when I came back this morning,” he said, “even before I saw everything you’d made. I had some time to cool down, and I . . . started thinking, I guess.”

Gwen wanted to look up at him, but she wanted to soak in his warmth more so she nuzzled into the curve of his neck, inhaling the smells of floral detergent and piney-woodsy cologne left over from the day before. “About what?” she asked, like there could possibly be more than one answer. Like maybe he’d been pondering the sociopolitics of Malaysia or something.

He let out a little huff of laughter, and she knew without looking that he’d glanced up at the ceiling in a slow blink (that he insisted was less rude than rolling his eyes outright, even though it was just as obvious). “You. Everything that’s happened this summer — and before it.” His shoulder shifted slightly under her cheek, a shrug aborted halfway through so she’d be comfortable. “Things started making more sense after everything we talked about tonight. Like the day we . . . well, when you told me about that gentleman you . . . almost took home.”

“He wasn’t a gentleman, he was a douchebag,” she interrupted, immediately feeling like an asshole. But David chuckled and squeezed her closer, like he enjoyed her company even when she was being annoying (which he did; somehow he actually did) and she let herself relax against his side, believe that maybe things were going to be okay after all.

“I’ve thought about the stuff you said a lot since that day. Mostly the parts that made me feel the worst.”

She flinched. “I’m so sorry —” she began, but he cut her off with a kiss to her forehead.

“I have trouble with . . . rejection,” he continued, sounding embarrassed. Like that minor character flaw even came close to the millions of ways she was fucked up. “I — I guess you could call it ‘abandonment issues’? But at first, and for a while, all I could hear were the ways you didn’t . . . seem to want me around anymore.”

“But I did —”

“I know.” Another soft kiss, and she wasn’t sure if it was to reassure her or himself. “I know that now. And I think, knowing that . . . it made what you said sound different.

“You were drunk — I know, you downplayed it, and it wouldn’t have excused . . . but your judgment was still impaired. And you didn’t kiss him. Thinking back, it didn’t even sound like you really wanted to. Did you?” She shook her head, not willing to look up at him because no matter how gently he tried to frame this she still felt like it was her fault. “And I just couldn’t stop thinking, how if this had happened a few years ago you would’ve told that story so much differently. If we were still just friends, maybe. You would’ve stormed into the cabin raging about how some jerk had ‘put his mitts all over you’ —”

Gwen couldn’t help it; she burst out laughing, pushing away from him and resting her head in her hands. “That can’t be how you think I talk!”

“It was an edited version,” he admitted, flushing. His smile was wide enough to illuminate the room, catching and refracting the dreary dawn light. “Please come back?”

She snuggled into his outstretched arms, her heart panging at the plaintive note in his voice. She wrapped herself around him, legs entangled with his and arms squeezing his waist; she’d missed him just as much. “Your impression of me is really bad,” she said with an uncontrollable giggle that made her feel like she was fourteen.

“I’ll work on it.” For a moment he just held her, soaking in the relief of being together and being okay. (At least, that's what she was doing.) “Why did it bother you so much?” he asked after a minute or so. “It doesn’t . . . well, it just doesn’t sound like you did anything wrong.”

“I guess — yeah, maybe not, technically anyway. But you’d just visited and saw how terrible my life is, and I was having an even harder time being a less-shitty version of myself . . .” He made a soft noise, almost pained, and pulled her closer. “So when this asshole showed up and was, like, exactly the type of guy I usually go for, it felt like . . . I don’t know. Like the universe was telling me we didn’t belong together. That sounds stupid. Never mind.” She pressed her face against his chest with an embarrassed groan. “Pretend I said something that doesn’t make me sound like I write horoscopes for a living.”

“I like horoscopes!” he replied, because of course he did. After a moment he added, “Thank you for telling me. It . . . helps confirm some things I was thinking earlier, when I left. Because what you said, and what you’ve been saying for a long time . . . I’ve been hearing it the way that’d hurt me the most, but I think you meant it to make me hate you.” He paused for a second, then added, “Do you think I’m right?”

Gwen shrugged, feeling more than a little like one of his campers receiving an aggressively pacifist talking-to. “Yeah. I don’t . . . like myself all that much.”

“I’ve noticed.” And David pressed another kiss to the top of her head, like he was rewarding her for being honest. Or like he just couldn’t help himself. “You haven’t treated me very well lately, Gwen. And I was — am very unhappy about that. But I don’t think it holds a candle to how you treat yourself.”

She wriggled away enough to sit up and look at him, frowning. “So you’re, what? Willing to come back to a shitty relationship because you feel sorrier for me than for you?” she demanded, even though it would’ve been smarter to just not say anything and enjoy his pity while she still had it.

But again, she said she’d be honest. And the true Gwen was kind of a bitch.

His smile turned sad, and he carefully tucked a flyaway hair behind her ear. “See, that’s what I mean. You never give yourself the benefit of the doubt.” When she frowned, not understanding, he took her hand and began playing with it, wiggling her fingers and twining them with his. “I understand better, now. How you’re feeling and what you’re thinking. And I’m not going to let you treat me like I’m a kid, or — or stupid, or whatever. I know you don’t really think that,” he added as she opened her mouth to argue. “There’s a whole cabin’s worth of proof in the living room that you don’t really think that. That’s why I wanna try again. Miscommunications, misunderstandings . . . those are fixable. And now that I know what’s been going through your head, I don’t think you’ve done anything I can’t forgive.”

Her eyes filled with tears — again, and she was going to die of dehydration if she didn’t get ahold of herself — but this time she couldn’t resent them too much, not when it felt like she was brimming over with hope that was eager to burst free. “What’re you saying, David?”

He shifted back, turning so he was sitting cross-legged facing her, and took both her hands in his. “I keep . . . trying to find a way to say it,” he admitted, looking down at their twined fingers and flushing pink, “because ‘do you want to be my girlfriend again?’ is maybe too middle-school, but ‘dating’ sounds too casual, and —”

Gwen pulled out of his grasp and closed the distance between them, straddling his lap and taking his chin in one hand. His face lifted toward her before his eyes did, darting from her chest to over her shoulder before finally meeting her gaze. She wound her free arm around his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the short, soft hair at the nape of his neck. With the hand cupping his jaw she gently swiped her thumb across his lower lip, slightly chapped but still warm and softer than it looked, each breath skating across her skin feather-light and making her skin prickle. “Yeah,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to his, holding back a laugh — or maybe a sob, she wasn’t quite sure; the emotions roiling inside her were too much to separate between happy and sad. “Whatever you’re asking, yes, I want it.”

She felt his smile spread under her thumb before he brushed her hand away, tilting his head so he could kiss her. “Good,” he murmured with a breathless chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. “I mean, I was pretty sure you’d say that, but still — that’s a relief.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You idiot.” Her blood turned to ice, and she pulled away from him, stricken. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t she be anything but herself for five minutes? “I didn’t mean — !”

David smiled, far more fondly than she deserved. “I know, Gwen.”

Groaning, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I’m trying, really I am.”

“Don’t.” He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back until she was upright, looking down at him again. “Please don’t try so hard to be what you think I want. Just be you.”

“Right.” She forced her shoulders to relax, tilting her head back and rolling her neck until it cracked. “I’m . . . gonna have a hard time with that. ‘Just me’ is kind of the worst.”

“I know you think that,” he said, pressing his half-open mouth to the hollow of her collarbone and making her shiver. “And I’ll keep reminding you until you don’t think it anymore.”

She managed a weak chuckle, leaning into his lips as he moved up her neck. “Good luck with that.”

His answering laugh rolled over her skin, warm and teasing. “Haven’t you heard, Gwen? I like projects.”

Jesus. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she tugged him upright, taking a moment to appreciate his gasp that wasn’t just surprise. “I love you,” she said, loosening her grip and kissing his forehead, petting away the furrows her fingers left in his fluffy red hair.

His expression softened. “I love —” he began, and Gwen tightened her hold on his hair and pulled back, just so she could watch his eyes flutter shut and his breath catch, “— y-you too.”

Dragging her palm down the side of his neck, she settled her thumb on his throat, feeling his pulse flutter rapidly, and bent to kiss him again. She hadn’t necessarily meant to turn it into anything, just wanted to feel his lips against hers, but her fingers tightened involuntarily in his hair and he moaned, and it was a lit match dropped down her throat to a stomach full of gasoline, a whoosh of heat blazing to life in the pit of her belly. “David,” she breathed, not so much because she had anything to say but because she needed to say it, to roll the sound of his name around in her mouth, let it melt like chocolate on her tongue and infuse her whole body with sweetness.

“Gwen,” he said, and she thought he was doing the same thing, saying her name just because he could, but then his hands were on her shoulders and he was pushing her away, gentle but firm. “Gwen, wait, we should — talk about this —”

“Oh, shit, yeah. Okay. Sorry.” She sat back, her face warming. But as she settled her weight more firmly in his lap he jolted; and if she’d thought she was embarrassed it was nothing to the way his already-flushed cheeks flamed pink, spreading in blotches up to his hairline and the tips of his ears, down to disappear underneath his bandana. He stammered out an apology, avoiding her eyes even as his cock twitched, like bashfulness could disguise how hard he was against her. She quickly rose back up — the last thing she wanted was to make him feel ashamed, or pressured; everything between them was as tremulous and new as the first time — but realized almost instantly when David squeaked that this just shoved her chest in his face.

She hovered there for an awkward second, the two of them staring at each other in mortified horror. Then his whole expression wavered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening into a thin line, and the break in his composure took hers out too. She snorted, and they both burst out laughing. “I’ll just sit over here,” she said through giggles, rolling off his lap and settling on the other side of the bed with her feet curled under her so they were no longer touching. He made a small sad sound like a squeeze toy deflating, and Gwen rolled her eyes and stretched out one leg until her foot brushed his knee. “Here, hold my foot if you’re that lonely. It’s practically holding hands.”

His eyes widened, hands closing around her ankle and setting it on his thigh with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmured, gently tracing the outline of her foot with his fingertips. “That was very sweet, you know.”

God, she was blushing, wasn’t she? She had to be. “Yeah,” she agreed, trying to ignore the ticklish feeling as he kept playing with her foot like it was a toy doll. “Felt weird, too. I kinda wanted to insult you or something, just to balance it out.”

He smiled, wiggling her big toe like he was playing that little piggies game she used to do with her nieces when they were babies. “That’s my Gwen.” And he sounded pleased, almost proud, like she’d done something wonderful.

But that was David; even though sometimes he was completely oblivious, sometimes he noticed and appreciated the tiniest, most inconsequential things. That’s my David, she thought, her heart swelling like it was going to burst. “You wanted to talk about something?” she reminded him, waggling her toes to get his attention.

“Oh! Right.” He gently took her foot and set it on the bed next to him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. “Sorry, I was getting distracted, and that was the whole point of you moving over there.” (He said it with a pout, like she’d gone to Spain instead of just out of arms’ reach.)

“I thought the whole point of me moving over here was so you could cool down, tiger,” she teased. But when he didn’t respond except to flush darker, his gaze firmly on a fraying edge of the pillowcase in his arms, something weird and hilarious clicked in her head. “Oh my god, are you into feet?”

“No!” He lifted his head to give her a tragically betrayed expression. “Not a weird amount!”

She grinned, poking his thigh with her outstretched foot. “What’s a weird amount?” she asked.

He shrugged, not quite able to maintain the kicked-puppy look when a smile kept trying to break through. “I don’t know. Watching people in heels step on fruit. I don’t like that sort of thing, I’ll have you know,” he added defensively, and for a second Gwen was sure he’d stick his tongue out at her.

“Sure, but you’re into them enough to know those videos exist.”

“I think I’d like to go back to you being nice to me,” he muttered, and she felt a stab of panic before he gently patted her ankle and met her gaze with a slight smile. Like he knew what she was thinking.

So she shoved past her nervousness and said, “But I thought you wanted me to be myself. And as myself, I can’t believe you never told me you were a foot guy!”

“I’m a you guy. And . . . you know. All of you. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah, but the feet are a thing, huh? At least a little bit.” When he didn’t answer she laughed, shaking her head. “So do you, like, want a footjob or something?”

“I really don’t.”

“How have we been dating this long and I didn’t know about this? What other freaky sex things are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” he said, hugging the pillow tighter. After a moment he looked away and added, “I didn’t want you to think I was weird.”

“David.” She leaned forward, waiting for him to look at her and see in her expression just how ridiculous that was. “You can’t get weirder than I am. You know that.” When the color in his face receded just a little bit, and his eyes flicked back toward her hopefully, she sighed and attempted to dredge up one of the strangest kinks in her vast library. “I’d totally fuck Drogon.”

He frowned thoughtfully. “From Game of Thrones? So would I- Iiiiiii mean, s-so would most people.”

“No, not Khal Drogo, Drogon. The dragon. Not like a humanized version, either — just full lizard.”

“Oh.” He smiled a little, almost a smirk, and Gwen felt distinctly, lovingly judged. “That does make me feel better. Thank you.”

“No problem. And tomorrow I’m gonna go into town and get a pedicure, just for you.” She wiggled her toes at him, grinning. “I’m thinking something slutty, like hot pink.”

“Gwen!” He shoved her foot away, laughing. “I was trying to have a serious conversation before you started talking about — about slutty toes and dragons!”

She cracked up too, falling over onto her side and nearly toppling off the bed. “Slutty toes,” she repeated breathlessly, and it took a few minutes to recover; every time they tried to make eye contact they burst out laughing again.

“Okay, okay.” Gwen finally sat back up, trying in vain to smooth her hair out of its mass of tangled bedhead. “I’m sorry, you were trying to say something serious. What’s up?”

“Right.” He took a deep breath, fingers knotting in her blankets until his knuckles were white. “It’s just . . . it was starting to seem like we were going to — um, you know. Be intimate.”

She resisted the urge to tease him for his word choice. “I was open to it, yeah.”

“M-me too! That’s why . . . well. Okay.” He took a deep breath, dragging his hands down his face, and Gwen noticed for the first time how tired he looked.

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything,” she said, shifting closer so she could put her hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

He nodded, patting her hand before brushing it away so she didn’t feel rejected, and once again she felt a rush of love so intense it almost brought tears to her eyes. He could be so simply, effortlessly kind, without even thinking about it. “I do. At least, I think I do. I- I mean, I know I do, but it’s hard to . . .” He waved his hand around his head like his thoughts were scattering birds.

“The night before we . . . well. Ended things.” He flinched at his own words, and she felt the same pain flicker over the surface of her heart.

It’s okay, she reminded herself, wishing she could sweep him up in her arms and block out all the bad memories she’d put there. It still hurts, but we’re going to be okay.

Like he’d been thinking the same thing, David stretched out his hand to find hers, squeezing her fingers. “I said I didn’t want to,” he continued in a rush, “you know. Be together like that. And you . . . seemed to get mad — at me. And then the next day you broke up with me.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath that had tears behind it, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “It’s okay,” he said, opening his eyes and giving her a slightly-watery smile. “I’m okay. But I just need to know . . .”

“God, no,” she jumped in, taking up the thread of his question as it trailed off into nothingness. “David, no, it had nothing to do with — I freaked out, but I was already — I mean, I was gonna fall apart over anything, it didn’t have to be that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.” She couldn’t stand it anymore, so she pulled his hand to her lips, kissing his knuckles because she wanted to respect his need for space but she had to touch him or she was going to die.

He swallowed, watching their joined hands for a moment before looking away. “You — that really hurt me, Gwen. I just needed to tell you that.”

All the anger he’d thrown at her in the past several hours, all the pain and frustration, and it was those small, matter-of-fact words that slashed her heart in two. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

She hated apologizing — it always felt weak, or dangerous, or something. Like it was an opening for someone to hate her even more, like she was handing them a weapon to hold over her head for the rest of her life. (It was why she hated receiving them, too; she could be spiteful and vindictive as anyone, but it was uncomfortable watching someone flay themselves in front of her.)

But with David . . . it didn’t feel like she was giving him leverage when she told him she was sorry. She wasn’t scared he’d hold onto it and throw it back in her face someday. She wasn’t resentful of him, and she wasn’t worried about how he’d react.

She wasn’t anything but truly, genuinely sorry.

And he didn’t brush it aside, act like she had no reason to apologize the way she’d half-expected. Either she hadn’t been giving him enough credit, or he’d grown up while she wasn’t paying attention. Maybe a little of both. But whatever the cause, he just stroked her cheek with the backs of his knuckles and nodded, a ghost of his smile returning for a second. “It’s okay,” he said, looking at her like she was — god, like he loved her. “Hearing it helps.”

She wasn’t sure if he needed more than that, but she wasn’t going to let a single doubt linger in his mind. “Seriously, David, you can — I won’t ever be mad at you for saying no, ever. For any reason, or no reason or . . . whatever. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay.”

“I — um, I had a reason.” He spoke fast, his eyes wide like he’d surprised himself. Still, he pressed his lips together into a flat line and met her gaze, clearly nervous but just as clearly not intending to end the conversation until they’d said everything they needed to. He was so brave. “I should’ve mentioned it at the time, but I guess I was scared.”

Gwen snorted, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I can relate to that.”

He rewarded her with a small, soft smile before continuing, “The thing is, everything had just been so gosh-darned strange between us, and it felt like you were avoiding me all the time — except when we were together like that.” He scratched the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “It sounds silly, but I couldn’t help but worry that maybe that was . . . all you were interested in me for.”

Her stomach sank. “And then when you said no, and I freaked . . .”

David nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed again. “Yeah,” he murmured, looking away. “It — it sure felt like you only wanted me for that one thing, all of a sudden, and when you couldn’t get it . . .”

“I dumped you,” she finished, covering her mouth in horror. “Oh, David.”  

“I was a little nervous to tell you to stop.” He pulled his hands from hers so he could fidget, twisting his long fingers together. “Earlier — just now. A minute ago. So we could talk. I — I know it wasn’t fair, but I couldn’t stop thinking you might get mad at me again.”

“I wasn’t mad,” she replied, her hands shaking with how badly she wanted to hug him. (And god, what a change from their normal paradigm, that she was the one who had to hold herself back from a hug.) “I mean, I was, but never at you. I was mad at me, for screwing things up. I — you’re right, I was avoiding you, or avoiding talking to you, I guess. Because I didn’t know how to talk to you, how to act so you wouldn’t find out that I’m . . .” Her throat closed, thick and gummy with tears, and she took a deep breath and swallowed them back. “Rotten,” she finished, which was a stupid, melodramatic word but it felt right; it described the way she still felt despite everything, squishy and overripe and putrid. “It was getting harder to hide, once we were together all the time. And when we were fucking —” She couldn’t tiptoe around the words like David, not when she could just say it and watch him flush red. Even her rotted heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled. “It felt like I didn’t have to try so hard. I couldn’t be amazing, but I could make you feel amazing. And if I could do that . . .” She sniffed, looking away and wiping her face clean. “I thought I was letting you know how much you mean to me,” she admitted, the realization coming right on the heels of the words. “I mean, obviously I wasn’t — add that to the list of things I suck at — but when you didn’t want to have sex, it . . . I took it really hard.”

Her face was turned away, so his hand on her shoulder made her jump. “It felt like I was rejecting the only thing you had to offer,” he guessed, his voice soft and sad but no longer on the verge of tears. “Gwen . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head like she could rattle her self-pity out of her head. “That was just me being stupid, I know that. More importantly — seriously.” She looked back at him, at his beautiful open face, at the way he was watching her like she could possibly have something to say that mattered. “It’s never been about sex with you, David,” she said. Felt the encroaching tears yet again and decided to ignore them. If they came, they came; they weren’t going to stop her, because it was the most essential thing in the world that he knew, that he believed her. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex is really good —” He chuckled, blushing exactly the way she’d hoped he would, and it gave her a little glowing spark of strength, “— but it doesn’t even come close to being what I love most about you. None of that stuff —” She gestured toward her bedroom door, and the mess of crafts cluttering their common room. “— comes close. It’s — everything, a billion other things I don’t know how to explain or describe or show you but I love you, so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and it scares me, and — I’m rambling. Sorry.” She shrank back, feeling like an idiot again. “I just wanted you to know that. It . . . we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever, and I’ll never be mad at you, or disappointed, or anything like that.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He was quiet for a minute, and she felt the tension ratcheting up in her shoulders with each long, spiraling second. Part of her wanted to snap at him to just say something, finish the damn thought before he gave her a heart attack, but that was her anxiety and regret talking, and she never wanted to take her own issues out on him ever again.

(She probably would, considering what a mess she was. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it on purpose.)

“You’re right, though.” David’s voice was a surprise, as was the soft laugh accompanying his words. He was sitting with his head tilted back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling like he could see through it to the fading stars and brightening sky. His gaze dropped to meet hers, and he immediately looked down and away, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. “We are pretty darn great together.”

A massive weight dropped from Gwen’s chest, rolling away like a stone. “Yeah,” she agreed. Then, to test the waters: “I taught you well.”

It worked; he turned back toward her, his shyness replaced with half-serious indignation. “I like to think some of it was natural talent!”

“Ehh,” she teased, holding her hand out flat and seesawing it back and forth in a “so-so” motion. “Pretty sure enthusiasm was doing most of the heavy lifting in the beginning there.”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a disbelieving scoff. “Well, I never!”

She pressed her lips together to keep from giggling. What a dork. “Y’know, I should say we were insanely good. But I dunno, for all I know you’ve totally lost it.” Shaking her head mournfully, she quickly glanced over to make sure he wasn’t actually offended.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes growing wide before narrowing. “I haven’t lost anything!” he snapped, and — oh, the playful irritation in his voice made her stomach twist. Not in the awful sick way she’d been tied up in knots earlier, but with a flush of heat that took her breath away.

Managing a smirk, she laid back on her elbows, a warm glow of satisfaction blooming in her chest as his gaze dropped to her stomach, to the narrow strip of skin where her camisole had ridden up. She waited until he dragged his eyes back up to her, dark and intense like the ocean in a storm, then grinned at him.

“Wanna bet?”

His face lit up — or, not quite. Because his smile was bright and warm as sunshine, but underneath the tenderness was a sharp competitive edge that he almost never turned on her. It was almost intimidating, but the shiver it sent down her spine had nothing to do with fear. “Always,” he replied.

Before she could respond he’d pushed himself to his knees and grabbed her just above her calves; a quick tug forward and Gwen was pulled flat on her back, dragged down the bed until her body was sprawled out beneath him. He let go of her, bracing his hands on either side of her head and bending down to capture her mouth in a kiss.

She curled one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, bending her knees so he was caged between her legs and arching her back to bring as much of her skin against his as possible. He was warm, almost uncomfortably so — her furnace, her own personal sun, and she wanted nothing more than to melt into him. When he abandoned her mouth in favor of trailing long, suckling kisses down her neck she pressed her lips together, biting hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound.

“You could’ve —” A gasp, too sudden for her to swallow it back, and she felt David’s satisfied smirk against the base of her throat as he bit down again. “— given me a concussion, you asshole.”

He hummed in assent, his lips skating up to her ear and his tongue lapping at the sensitive spot just behind it. “I know,” he said mildly, “but I didn’t.”

He gently took her earlobe between his teeth, and she couldn’t help the strangled noise that was somewhere between a moan and a sigh. Grabbing his hair again, she dragged his mouth back for another kiss, enjoying the shudder that rolled down his spine and made him tremble everywhere his body was touching hers. For a few dizzying minutes she held him there, barely allowing either of them to draw breath. His mouth was blood-hot, warmer than even her fevered skin, and she didn’t know exactly where she wanted it because she wanted it everywhere — against hers, his tongue lapping at the roof of her mouth and making her shiver; around one of her nipples, his teeth catching on the pebbled skin; sucking bruises into her inner thighs, closing around her clit, dipping inside her cunt, her asshole, along the sensitive strip of skin between the two. She wanted him to kiss her places that weren’t even close to erotic but she knew would burst into flame if he so much as brushed his lips over them: the bone jutting out from her ankle, the ticklish spot inside her elbow, wherever the fuck he wanted to press the gorgeous wet heat of his mouth she wanted to let him, because from the very first kiss he’d been good, better than he’d had any right to be but time and experience had worked their magic and now his mouth could ruin her; without even trying he could reduce her to twitching, shuddering goo.

“Take this off,” she gasped, not sure if she meant her clothes or his because she was wriggling out from under him and trying to remove both at the same time, her fingers clumsy and shaking with how badly she needed to touch him without any fabric in the way. She struggled to her knees, practically yanking her camisole off and throwing it across the room before hooking her fingers in his belt loops and dragging him close enough for her to undo the buckle. “Come on —”

“So I won?” He laughed breathlessly, untucking his shirt and pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, smugness making him unfairly graceful like he was trying to show off.

“Sure, whatever,” she muttered, because who cared about some bet when he was kneeling half-naked in front of her? They’d had silly, jokey sex but that was not this, not when he was so beautiful she was having trouble looking directly at him, hair mussed and lips damp and swollen and pink blooming in blotches under the light constellations of freckles across his skin. He looked debauched, flushed and obscene even with half his clothes still on, and there wasn’t room in her brain for humor when all she could feel was clawing shaking need. She dropped onto all fours, leaning down to trace the hard outline of his cock with her tongue, and even through his shorts he was burning warm. He sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse spiking under her mouth, and Gwen couldn’t resist closing her lips around the shape of his erection, breathing in the salty-ammonia smell of precome and feeling her mouth water. “David,” she began, but there was no end to that sentence so she lifted her head slightly, bit the delicate ridge of his hipbone where it peeked out from the waist of his shorts, caught him as his hips stuttered forward. She kept him steady, one hand splayed across his lower back, as she rose to her knees without lifting her mouth from his skin: over the barely-there softness of his stomach (no werewolf six-pack here, despite his lean strength), tongue swirling among the faint red hair below his belly button, following the curve of his ribs, just barely brushing one nipple — he made a small, strung-out noise in the back of his throat, almost despairing as she moved on up to his neck — until she found his lips again, dragging him into a bruising, breathless kiss.

When she pulled away David’s smile was gone, drawn out of his mouth and leaving him panting. “Okay,” he murmured, soft and almost reverent, but before she could figure out what specifically was okay he hauled her forward like she weighed nothing, capturing her lips for a second before trailing down her throat, pausing at a sensitive place above her pulse point and biting down hard, sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pain bloomed under his mouth, rippling out into shockwaves of cold-hot pleasure, and when he bit her again she couldn’t hold back a moan. “You’re gonna — leave a mark,” she gasped, gently shoving his head away and running her fingers over the damp skin. It was already tender, and judging by David’s expression, contrite and amused and darkly heated, it was going to be a hell of a hickey. “I can’t hide this!”

“I’m sorry!” he tried, but it wasn’t close to convincing when he couldn’t hide his grin. His eyes drifted down to the mark again and he licked his lips, expression growing dazed for a moment before he snapped back up to look at her face. “I can make you a bandana, if you want. Just until it fades.”

“Fucker.” Gwen laughed, not so much because it was funny but because it was him, and she loved him more than she could possibly stand. Tired of the overheated, confining clothes she was still wearing, she shimmied out of them, tossing her pajama shorts and half-soaked underwear without bothering to see where they landed. “Come here,” she said, pressing her legs together and shivering at the wet slide of her inner thighs and labia, a thousand nerve endings sparking to glistening life. “You can make it up to me.”

She swore she could almost see his mouth water, his gaze dropping between her legs as he took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am,” he said — and they’d never tried that before, but judging by the way his cock twitched and his eyes jumped sheepishly to hers, it was something he’d thought about a lot. Filing the information away for later, she held out her hand and pulled him closer when he took it, resting her forehead against his. It took just the slightest shift in the angle of her head to kiss him again so she did it without thinking, her hand sliding between their bodies to curl loosely around the outline of his erection.

He gasped shakily against her mouth, his hands fluttering up and down her waist like he couldn’t decide where to touch her. One of them dropped to her ass, a light, almost hesitant touch, and she rewarded it with a soft groan; he made a weak noise in the back of his throat and pulled her closer, kneading her ass before slipping lower, between her legs. The heel of his hand brushed teasingly against her clit as he pressed two fingers into her, and she mimicked his pace, gliding her palm down the length of his clothed cock and relishing the way his fingers twitched against her inner walls.

He fingered her like that, slow and steady, for — she didn’t know how long. Lost track of the strokes that sent warmly buzzing tendrils up her spine, lost count of the breaths gasped raggedly between their lips, of the kisses that melted into one another until she wasn’t entirely sure where she was, she was hyper aware of the heartbeat pounding in her clit and every too-gentle drag of his hand but numb to literally everything else that wasn’t right here, wasn’t David —

“Fuck,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She turned her head and lapped at his throat, sucking his skin into her mouth and biting down hard enough to make his fingers jolt inside her, pressing against her g-spot for one delicious moment. “God, I -- please, David, just make me come, please --”

Another shiver, another twitch of his fingers that took her breath away. “Okay,” he said, his voice strangled and hoarse. He pulled out of her and sat back on his heels. “Lay down, all right?”

Yes, yes, whatever he was thinking was 100% all right with her. She almost kneed him as she scrambled into position, but her embarrassed giggle evaporated as he lowered himself onto his elbows, scooching her up the bed like she weighed nothing and settling between her legs. Alarm cut through her arousal, her mind immediately trying to calculate the last time she’d showered, let alone shaved --

His eyes flicked up to hers, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know,” he replied before she’d even opened her mouth. “I promise, I really want to.”

Oh, god. She covered her face to muffle a squeak, flopping onto her back and looking up at the ceiling. “I’m that predictable, huh?”

David hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating up the inside of her thigh. “Only with some things. Other times you surprise me quite a bit.”

“Yeah?” He kissed the top of her mound, his tongue dipping into the V formed by her lips and just brushing her clit — a teasing touch, his mouth moving away even as she lifted her hips instinctively. “I’m surprising?”

“You are,” he said, the camp-counselor cheer in his voice making what he was doing feel even more obscene. He traced the line of her cunt with his mouth before gently fingering her open. “The first time you did this, for example. That surprised me quite a bit!”

“This?” She knew exactly what he meant — her stomach still dipped and swooped at the memory of kneeling on the floor of his shower, the heady rush of confidence and vulnerability she’d felt looking up at him with his cock at her lips — but she tilted her head back with a sigh and breathed, “Pretty sure I’ve never eaten you out before. Not that I wouldn’t be into that, just saying.”

He gasped and spluttered, pulling back to wipe his mouth and staring at her with wide, shocked eyes, then coughed, tapping his chest with his other hand. “Excuse —?!”

When he lowered his head to cough again and take an unsteady breath, Gwen sat up on her elbows, not sure if she should be amused, worried, or mortified. “Oh my god, please tell me you did not just choke on cunt juice!”

David gave her a disgusted look, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “There had to be another way to word that,” he said, as primly as he could while still struggling to catch his breath. “But — um, you didn’t…w-was a joke, or…?”

“I meant it,” she admitted, “but I get it if you don’t want to, don’t feel pressured either way —”

“No — I want to.” He looked startled by his own words, and immediately dropped his gaze, smoothing his palms down her thighs like he could disguise how his fingers trembled. “Sometime. If — if you do.”

Gwen let the awkward silence linger for another moment, not quite sure how to move forward. “Good. That’s…something to put on the to-do list.”

“Y-yes. Okay.” He did meet her eyes then, brightening. “See, you did it again!”

She frowned. “Did what?”

“Surprised me.” He leaned over her body to tug her into a slow, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to breathe he cupped the back of her neck, holding her close and brushing his nose against hers. “You’re an adventure every day, Gwen,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I’m a real goddamn roller coaster,” she grumbled, shifting her hips upward in a blind search for his touch. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking ride me already.”

David laughed softly against her mouth before turning his attention to her jaw, throat, collarbone — a damp, shivery brush of his tongue against her skin moving down her body. “Well goodness, Gwen, now I’m confused.” She both hated and loved the smug, teasing tone he got whenever her composure cracked. “I could make love to you,” he continued, nipping the skin just below her bellybutton and making her jump, “but I thought you wanted me to do this first.”

He closed his lips around her clit and sucked gently, catching her with an arm behind her back as she arched toward the maddening wet heat of his mouth. Lowering her hips back to the bed with infuriating tenderness, he paused, resting his cheek on her inner thigh and looking up the length of her body. When she met his eyes he smiled, pausing to press a chaste kiss to her leg before returning her gaze.

“What do you want, Gwen?” And he asked it untauntingly. Seriously. Like he wanted nothing more than for her to tell him what to do, and like he’d do it without question.

His sincerity was going to be the death of her, she decided with a groan, burying her hands in her hair and shielding her face from his view with her arms. “Fuck. I don’t know. Everything.”

When it came to David, she always wanted everything.

“That’s a real swell coincidence, then!” He traced the seam where her hip and leg met, then dipped down, dragging his fingertips through the wetness smearing her thighs before swiping them up to circle her clitoris. “Because ‘everything’ is exactly what I’d like to give you.”

She barely had time to absorb the statement before his mouth was on her again, sliding the hood back with his lips before swirling his tongue beneath it and around the exposed clit. It was almost too much, too sensitive, bordering on painful and if he stopped she might actually die; she knotted her fingers in the flimsy sheets to keep from pushing his face harder against her, vaguely aware that she was mumbling nonsensical pleas, an incoherent litany of “oh god yes please fuck don’t stop” —

He didn’t. Without lifting his mouth he braced one hand under her knee and pushed it toward her chest, bending her leg and using two fingers of his other hand to enter her. It took him a second but when he found her g-spot he pressed up hard, stroking with the same rapid pace of his flicking tongue. It was more pressure than she was used to, strangely achy but pleasurably so, and it was impossible not to writhe under his touch as the need to come coiled tighter, dragged her higher, kept her suspended on the brink for a frustrating, dizzying, electrifying moment that stretched like a rubber band…

Then it snapped — a dam breaking, a wave cresting and finally letting gravity take over — and she curled forward with a sob of relief, pleasure rippling through her limbs and turning her bones to liquid, trembling through the aftershocks.

The shift from overwhelmingly perfect to just plain overwhelming was a split second. “Nngh, stop, stop —” She pawed weakly at his head, just barely smacking the edge of his fringe with her fingertips, but he lifted his mouth from her with a look of concern. “You’re fine,” she added quickly, struggling to catch her breath and shivering from the buzz of overstimulation, “s’just too much.”

David nodded, relieved, and sat back, wiping his face with the back of his arm. “Wow,” he murmured, eyes wide and awed. “Wowzers. Gwen, have you ever done that before?”

She sat up, frowning. “Come like a train? Like every time we — whoa.”

The sheets between her legs were wet. Not damp, wet like she’d spilled a glass of water (and cooling rapidly, she realized with a grimace, shifting to avoid the blotchy patch). Presumably the same wetness dripping down David’s chin.

“Oh my god.” She groaned, hiding her face in her hands like if she couldn’t see it, it would disappear. Or feel it slicking her inner thighs. “And uh, not really,” she finally muttered, a belated answer to his question. “Once or twice, but you’ve really gotta work over the g-spot to make it happ --” She glanced up just in time to catch his expression, a flash of recognition mixed with pleased sheepishness. “Which you were.” David quickly looked away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and flushing pink. “On purpose?”

“I -- I’d read about it, that’s all!” he said, meeting her gaze defensively. “I knew it was, well . . . a thing. That some wom- people can do. And I was -- I’ve seen -- I was curious!” Gwen tried to stifle a laugh and failed, turning it into a choking snort, and he blushed even darker. “I know I should’ve just asked, but I couldn’t figure out how to say . . .”

She waited for him to finish the sentence, but when it became clear he had no intention of doing so, she injected as much demented cheer into her voice as possible and chirped, “‘Golly gee, Gwen, could I try making you squirt sometime?’”

Her imitation of his voice was passable -- she’d spent enough years making fun of him to get good at it -- and though he turned his head away she was positive he rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t know if that counts as bad language or not.”

“Oh no. It’d be so shocking if I said one of the no-no words.”

He chuckled, trying and failing to disguise it as a sigh, and climbed out of bed, tugging the rest of his clothes off. (As he picked up his shirt and wiped his face clean, Gwen quickly bent forward and sniffed the damp spot on the mattress. A little like saline, mostly like nothing. Good to know.)

“So how often do you trawl the internet for sex tips?” she asked, grinning. “Or -- god, tell me you’re not checking out books from the library.”

“Of course not!” He looked horrified at the thought. “And . . . sometimes. More often, after we started dating. I . . .” He paused, looking like he was reconsidering the rest of that sentence, and joined her on the bed to lean back against the headboard. “The time you visited, when I -- used my mouth on you for the first time.” (And what was it about his delicate tiptoeing that made it sound so much more filthy than if he’d said it outright?) “I thought -- or, well, I hoped . . . anyway, I did a little reading. Online, obviously. Just in case.”

So that was how he’d been so goddamn good right off the fucking bat. Always prepared, her boy scout. “Well, I appreciate it,” she said, and sat up, throwing one leg over his lap and draping her arms around his shoulders. “Can I please fuck you now, Mr. Greenwood?”

He sucked in an unsteady breath, his cock twitching up against her; the tip of his head slipped between her outer folds, making them both gasp. “C-condom,” he breathed, his voice raspy and uneven, and she scrambled off his lap before she could give in to the voice in the back of her head insisting they didn’t need to stop and get anything, he was right there , if she’d angled her hips right he could’ve been inside her already --

Her fingers were shaking as she retrieved the foil packet and brought it over, letting him take it with relief. (There was no way she wouldn’t have ripped it, with the way her whole body was trembling like the room had dropped ten degrees.) She watched him roll the latex down his cock, unable to tear her eyes away from how beautifully flushed it was, precome beading at the tip and slicking the inside of the condom.

God, she needed him inside her. Immediately.

David caught her with a breathless laugh as she vaulted back up onto the bed, curling his fingers around her hips and holding her steady. “Careful,” he murmured, and she rolled her eyes, fumbling blindly between her legs to line him up. “Have I- hhha --” He cut off, squeezing his eyes shut with a sigh as the head of his cock pressed into her, “t- told you how beautiful you are?”

Gwen frowned. It was kind of hard to focus on the question when her body was fluttering and pulsing as it adjusted to the welcome intrusion. “A lot?” she guessed, sinking down the last few inches too fast and bottoming out with an electric shock of pain and pleasure. “Fuck.”

“No. Not like that.” He slid one arm between their bodies, parting her folds to see the way she stretched around him. “I -- think you’re so pretty,” he managed, gently tracing her inner labia with his fingertips. “I like your colors. And how we -- um, contrast.”

No one had ever told her that her cunt was pretty before. It was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David would do. And he was right; his cock looked so pale against her, where she faded from shocking pink into a dark purplish-brown that lightened as it blended into her normal skin tone. There was something about it that reminded her of a sunset -- which was just the kind of stupid, romantic thing David made her think.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, pressing her forehead against his and raising up a few inches, “and I love you so much.”

“I — love you too.” Suddenly he froze, his eyes widening and his grip tightening around her waist, keeping her from moving.

“David? Everything okay?” God, he wasn’t having some kind of terrible flashback, was he? Maybe they shouldn’t be doing this.

His eyes flicked up to hers, and a wide, sunny smile spread across his face like spilled honey. “This is just like the first time.”

It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about, but then it hit her: this was like the night they’d first had sex, from the position to the location to the dizzying, giddy strangeness of it.

God, he was perfect.

“Sort of.” She pressed a hard, quick kiss to his lips before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging his head to the side so she could reach his neck; he whimpered and twitched twice, each pulse against her inner walls taking her breath away. “Except I know you way better now.” She punctuated the statement by licking a wide stripe up the side of his throat, then sucked a mark right beside his Adam’s apple, where it’d be safely hidden by his bandana. “All your weak points.”

“I—” He swallowed, tilting his head obediently as she trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses up to his ear, “d-don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She just hummed; that wasn’t worth dignifying with a real response, and the vibrations against his damp skin made him shiver. Instead she toyed with him: tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue, nipping at his earlobe with just a hint of teeth, exploring the delicate area around his ear and neck she knew so well, had staked her claim to a hundred times before.

David’s breathing quickened, roughened, and she had to tighten her grip on his hair to keep him from squirming. Her hips weren’t moving but his were, minute jolts she was positive he couldn’t control. “Gwen,” he gasped, “please, I -- hhit's too much, I can’t --”

“Could you come like this?” she asked, fighting to keep her own voice level. She could feel his pulse pounding in his cock and in his throat, under her lips; her clit throbbed in response, a metronome perfectly attuned to him. “Without me even moving? Or just . . .” She squeezed her internal muscles, clenching around him in a quick staccato pattern, and lapped her tongue against his neck in time.

“Nnno. Or -- yes?” His fingers tightened around her hips, a helpless spasm. “I don’t know. It’d . . . be torture.”

His voice was so low, wrecked, and Gwen’s stomach went into a dizzying, delicious free-fall. “Good,” she said before she could stop herself, think it through and reject it as sounding weird and freaky. David successfully pulled back from her, his eyes wide and blown out with arousal, and he looked so beautiful she couldn’t stop herself from blurting out, “I want to torture you sometime. Nothing you’re not okay with -- and not now, but . . .”

“Yes,” he breathed, and the word was barely out of his mouth before his hand curled around the back of her neck and he was dragging her mouth to his, a kiss made of teeth and desperation with words gasped out against her lips: “yes, god, whatever you want Gwen please I love you --” His other hand slid to cup the curve of her thigh, urge her up onto her knees so he could fuck her properly, pull her back down to set a rhythm that bordered on frantic.

She couldn’t help but laugh, even as she braced her palms against the headboard for better leverage to ride him faster, harder. “Told you,” she teased, biting his lower lip hard enough to drag a breathy whine from him. “Weak.”

That made him moan, drawn-out and broken, and he slipped one hand between their bodies; curling it into a loose fist, he splayed his index and middle fingers just enough for her clit to glide between them, adding an extra jolt of friction every time she moved her hips. Gwen gasped, clutching at his back with one hand as her second orgasm coiled tighter at the base of her spine.

She bit his shoulder because she could, because she had to, because he’d like it and because it was that or scream loud enough to wake the entire camp. “Fuck, god, David --”

He shuddered and buried his face in her hair, his breath hot with a stream of pleasured mumbles beginning and ending in her name --

Gwen didn’t know which of them came first. It didn’t matter, really, because they dragged each other over the edge. His cock was almost painfully hard, unyielding as iron as her muscles tightened and fluttered around it, and the sudden snap upward of his hips as he came nearly knocked her breathless.

She was going to be sore tomorrow. Or . . . later today. She turned her head and mouthed at David’s neck, relishing the sweet-salt taste of his sweat, and let him hold her up as they caught their breath.

“I love you too,” she whispered belatedly. David huffed a weak laugh into her hair, stroking her back with a touch that was light and ticklish. “But we’re sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t wanna deal with the wet spot.”

Yeah, she was going to be sore, and exhausted, and facing a hell of a cleanup both in her bedroom and outside of it.

David groaned and gently pushed her upright, sliding out from under her and taking her hand, like she was a camper who needed to be ushered back to bed. “Phone,” she bleated, weakly reaching for it as they walked past, and he paused to pick it up for her, and in that second she loved him even more, more than she’d ever thought possible.

Worth it.