#in the dream he had to relive his adventure

[adrift-in-thyme]

I had the weirdest dream last night

[buckleyx]

You asked for mike request and I only think abt him at the moment so imma tell you all of them.

-so mike coming home from work (established relation ship btw) and see you sleeping in his clothes and on his bed and just like awakens something in him like makes him love more.

THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS M.S

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner!

Author’s note: thank you for requesting love!! this was such a cute ideaa i love my bf mike < 3

Mike Schmidt x gender!neutral reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff

masterlist

Mike was exhausted. It had been a long night and all he could think about was going home and cuddle up next to you. It was early in the morning when Mike locked the entrance to the pizzeria and tiredly drove back home. His mind felt blank, drained and all he could think about was you.

A soft hum escaped his lips as he finally unlocked the front door. The brunette sighed tiredly before kicking of his shoes and tossing his jacket somewhere on the couch. The house was quiet, the early sunlight beemed through the curtains making Mike muffle a soft yawn.

His feet dragged him to the bedroom, ready to fall on the soft duvet next to you. Mike blinked a few times to adjust his eyes to the dark room but thanks to the early sunrise (and broken curtain you were working on replacing) he stopped Infront of the bed to admire you curled up wearing his favorite hoodie. You had your arms wrapped around a pillow together with his side of the blanket. Your boyfriend couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight in front of him. God. You looked beautiful. He thought. And as he predicted It once again felt like all of his worries disappeared the moment he saw you.

Your boyfriend carefully crawled next to you and successfully pulled away the pillow you were holding. A content smile crossed Mike's lips as he wrapped his own arms around you instead, kissing the top of your head in the process. His breathing relaxed as he enjoyed this peaceful moment he longed all night for.

Mike's eyes glanced up at the ceiling before reminding himself to remove the leftover tape of the Nebraska poster he ripped off. He knew how hard you had been trying to make his house more cozy and welcoming for him and Abby and he couldn't be more grateful. You were well aware of your boyfriend's dream adventures but Mike always made a promise to never wander off at night when you were with him. As much as you reassured him you didn't mind he kept his ground.

You knew how important 'sleep' was for Mike and this was a part of him you couldn't help with. This was his own journey. But still it was hard. You already saw Mike less often during the day because of your new office job and now you had to miss him during nights as well. When Mike was home, you didn't see a lot of him either, he kept himself tucked away in the bedroom reliving the same memory over and over again. It broke your heart seeing him so in pain, so absent and obsessed with memories even after all these years of knowing him. But it was a part of Mike you couldn't help him with, it didn't matter how much you tried, it was his journey. His way of finding peace. So moments like this, when you were both wrapped in each others arms you both savoured to the fullest.

Mike stroked your hair, making you softly stir before comfortably laying your head further on his chest. "hmm missed you." You mumbled tiredly, not really awake yet. Mike chuckled at your adorable state. His clothes looked so good on you and he couldn't help but feel some sort of pride of catching you wearing them when he wasn't around.

"Missed you too baby." He whispered before pressing another kiss to your hair. "Try getting some more sleep."

You hummed, slipping your hand under his shirt and wrapping your arm around his waist. "I love you." You murmured, already dozing off again.

"I love you more princess." He smiled, before the unbearable exhaustion took over and lulled him into sleep aswell.

My requests are open! :)

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[nelkcats]

And they were roommates

After years of living on his own in the Infinite Realms, something strange began to happen to the retired hero. Every time Danny closed his eyes to sleep, a life that was not his own played in his head. And he began to see memories of someone who had passed away, from his birth to his death. That would be fine if he didn't remember the dreams in such detail.

Unfortunately when the first dream kept repeating itself continuously, and Danny investigated, he discovered that it was not a normal nightmare and was the life of someone real. Someone who wanted a closure.

Every time he woke up, he found himself feeling the same as in the dream. Which led him to do a couple of things: yell at Nocturne (who strangely had nothing to do with it), annoy Clockwork (who was definitely involved), and solve crimes that had been deemed "impossible", and bring them to an appropriate end.

The police were extremely confused when a note from "Sleepy King" was next to the evidence of a cold case. The truth is that Danny wanted to sleep, and the souls were extremely insistent about their 'unfinished business' that came to haunt him in his sleep.

Every time he cracked a case he earned a few hours of uninterrupted sleep or downright disturbing memories, but that wasn't enough. Unfortunately, it seemed that solving the cases was only attracting more souls, and he was starting to regret wanting to help. He had ended his life as a hero for a reason.

Usually his notes to the police would say something along the lines of "I'm doing this for me, not for you, good night" or some similar nonsense. The halfa was tired, very very tired, dreaming with memories wasn't fun or pretty, it was exhausting, the deaths made his skin crawl and his insomnia worse. He didn't want to relive the deaths of anyone else, but he had no way to scare away the souls.

When Martha Wayne showed up in his dreams showing him about a "court of owls" Danny made up his mind. This had to stop. He had been a hero but he retired. And it wasn't that he hated the souls, he just wanted to sleep, the mental exhaustion was too much.

So he did the stupidest thing possible: he hired Constantine (pretending to be a fairly normal human client, getting his attention after offering a lot of alcohol and some useless books from the Realms as payment) to make him a dream catcher or some wizard thing. All he wanted was something to help him sleep.

Constantine couldn't do that of course. The hellbazer was disturbed by the man with more than three hundred avenging spirits swarming. That was fucked up. So he offered him the only solution he could think of: inviting him to sleep at his house. A place where spirits could not pass without permission. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would work for a while.

John had no idea why he was doing so much for a client (inviting him to his house? bold move), but the man looked so desperate, and he was fucking cute. If he could get an adventure or two out of it he wouldn't complain.

Constantine's guest bed felt like heaven to the halfa, despite being almost destroyed. Danny repeatedly thanked, and before they both knew it: they were roomies, lived in the same place, took turns cooking or cleaning, etc. They grew comfortable with each other to the point that Danny answered Justice League Dark's calls on a few occasions.

And well, if Constantine stopped rushing to find a long-term solution that was his business, and his alone, okay? Zatanna's comment asking when he got married was fucking out of place.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'm Alive (Yandere!Monster x GN!Reader)

CW: Dead Dove, dub-con, death, gore, inhuman anatomy, sexual non-sexual penetration, mind control, angst, you have been warned

Breathing hurt.

His entire body convulsed as he inhaled, the writhing mass that was his body cracked and groaned as it pulsed. He was once a man, though he no longer remembered much of his previous life. There was a torso emerging from the ball of flesh that was his lower half, and sometimes when he closed his eyes he could recall owning a pair of legs; but now he was just an abomination.

Trapped under the earth in what seemed to be the ruins of a temple or some kind of forgotten catacombs, he spent his days lying in a corner, eating the rats that came and tried to devour his body that reeked of decay.

Sometimes, he dreamt. There is a dream of a building called a "church", where a woman would clasp her hands together and speak to an invisible man. She called it prayer, and told him if he prays then her god will answer, but whenever he awoke and interlocked his red, skinless fingers together, the woman's god never granted him death.

Death never comes, nor does relief.

There was only rot, and pain, and rats.

Each and every day. He didn't know how he knew, because he hadn't seen the sun since becoming a monster, but he knew that there was such thing as a sun, and a sky, and that the day changed to night, which would become weeks, then years. And he knew that he has been down there for a very long time.

Then, one day, there was light.

And God granted him his relief.

.................................

The group of adventurers broke through the sealed entrance to the abandoned tower. It once stretched all the way to the heavens, but had sunk into the dirt centuries ago. Half of the excited group were thrill seeking scholars, willing to put their lives on the line to uncover the secrets of the Inverted Tower, and the other half were monster slaying treasure hunters, investigating the ancient rumors of forgotten relics. Among them was (Reader), a hero unknown.

The dreams began when they were just a child. Dreams of a man begging them not to leave, falling to his knees as the walls crumbled around the two and the familiar stranger's skin peeled off like cracking paint. A nun in the dreams would assure (Reader) that it wasn't their fault. But it hurt. It was too much for a child to see. Seeing themselves, but not themselves, a body foreign yet undeniably their own, reliving the moment when they chained a man to the floor, then locked the door and left him to die.

Now they stood at a hole in the ground: the magnet of fate pulling them into a place they felt would be identical to their dreams.

And they were right.

The halls seemed to be persevered by magic, dirty and dusty, but still fairly untouched by the erosion of time. Landing onto the top floor was like dropping into one of their dreams. Memories from someone else invaded (Reader's) mind, and forced them to recall things they never experienced before.

Adopted by the Tower of God, (Reader) was proud to have been chosen amongst all of the other orphans. Their skills were unmatched, as was their intellect. Only six years old, and the magical talent scouts had determined that they had what it took to learn to be a great warrior for 'The Cause'.

There was another child around (Reader's) age that had been adopted from a different country. He looked like an angel, with gold hair and eyes so clear and blue that they looked like the sky.

The floor shook dangerously as the group worked their way to the stairs. A healer tried to hold (Reader) back, concern filling his face. "You look really pale, do you need to sit down?"

"We literally just entered!" A thug stage whispered, nervous to make any loud noises. No one knew what was in the tower, but there had been many stories about monsters and demons. Some said that the devil himself pulled the tower into the earth out of jealousy towards God.

"I'm fine.." (Reader) wiped the sweat off their forehead with the back of their hand. "I'm just getting a weird sense of deja vu..."

The children entered the tower's chapel hand in hand. It was nearly empty, save for a nun kneeling before a terrifying statue of a cloaked figure. Despite wearing a habit, she was an unusual looking nun, with her eyebrows shaved off and tattoos visible from under her hood.

"Welcome, children." She gave a small smile, one that seemed more tired than welcoming.

"You look weird." The golden boy gripped (Reader's) arm tighter.

A genuine laugh erupted sharply, startling the kids. "I am a clerical nun."

"What's that?"

She revealed her hands to the small orphans before her. Sparkling light rose from her fingers like snowflakes falling backwards.

"The God that I serve gives me power. Power to cleanse the world of evil." The statue looming above the trio felt as though it heard her mention it; it's presence darkening and suffocating (Reader). "You were chosen because your souls glow stronger than most.. God has blessed you both."

"All you have to do is pray.."

An axe slashed through an attacking bat. Only on the 112th floor and the group had already began to run into creatures from the beyond. Lesser evils such as minion bats and living slime charged the group as ferociously as possible, mad with hunger. As they continued on, a growing affection for the young boy bloomed within (Reader's) heart, reliving someone else's journey of friendship and love, with a terrifying sense of anxiety. Each new remembrance of secret handholding and hushed murmurs behind closed doors gave (Reader) a rush of dopamine, but also made them fearful to continue. They knew there was a memory they didn't want to uncover; one that would connect to the dreams they've had since forever, and it scared them.

On the edge of puberty, (Reader) and the Boy could feel that something within them was changing, but being raised by a guild of monster hunters left them without the basic learnings of what was happening to their bodies and minds. The two were surrounded by loving adults who cared for the orphans like family, but continued to isolate themselves as they grew, relying on each other in secret more and more.

The two hid under the blanket, sharing a bed long after it was time for lights out. (Reader) held onto the Boy's slightly clammy hand, repeating a prayer in their head for God to make their heart stop hurting. It was as though they were allergic to their best friend and brother. Whenever he looked into their eyes they felt a tidal wave of emotion so intense it nearly brought them to tears. However, at the same time they couldn't leave his side. They wanted to hug him so tightly that his body would melt into their's.

"I don't like Mother Lillian." The Boy whispered through pouting lips. "She keeps making us take our lessons apart from each other."

"Haha. That's because you refuse to do your work when we sit together." (Reader) knocked their forehead against his lightly.

In the black of their room, they couldn't see the Boy's face blushing, so they assumed that the heat they felt was coming from their own cheeks.

"Schoolwork is boring... I'd rather spend time with you."

The thing on the ground floor could smell his salvation. That prayer he had mumbled in incoherent words for decades was finally heard by his God. A person who's name he hadn't forgotten despite his language skills diminishing to nothing but grunts and groans had finally come for him. He would no longer be alone.

A horrifying sound of flesh ripping echoed throughout the corridor as he tore his body away from the wall he had begun to fuse to. It was agony, dragging his living corpse across the floor, but he knew that it would all be worth it.

Soon.

(Reader's) talent for the arcane accelerated, like a snowball gently tumbling into an avalanche. Praise and recognition were no strangers to the young teen, but as their recognition grew they were kept apart from their best friend for longer and longer intervals. While it hurt to be away from him, the genius had no idea the absolute trauma the separation was inflicting on him.

Mother Lillian held her bleeding forehead, tears falling not for herself, but for the young man she saw as her own son. The Boy stood above her with a candlestick holder raised high above his head, ready to swing again. This was the scene (Reader) interrupted, lashing out on instinct with a holy light, hoisting their best friend off his feet with a frantic wave of their hand. "STOP!"

Blood continued dripping from the tattooed cleric as her aging body was pulled into her other child's arms. It wasn't a deadly strike, but a second surely would have ended her. She was powerful, but took a vow long ago to only use her magic against evil, so even having her brow split open she refused to defend herself, because that would mean that she thought her adopted son was evil.

And even though he didn't believe it, she did love him.

"It's all her fault! She won't let us be together! She's keepING YOU AWAY FROM ME!!"

Moisture sweat from the walls.

The heat was becoming unbearable. Cooling potions were being consumed in fairly consistent dosages as the party descended. But it wasn't the earth's core, nor the presence of hell itself that caused (Reader's) fever.

They could still feel the sting of betrayal when they threw their best friend off of their mother.

"No.. that wasn't me.." the hero wobbled on their feet, fingernails clawing at their scalp.

A clay vase nearly toppled as (Reader) clipped their hip on the corner of the little table it was resting on.

They could see the Boy watching them from behind the ugly vase, and it made their stomach feel strange. His shoulders had grown wide and his chest broad. The Boy no longer looked like a boy, and (Reader) couldn't block out the odd, scary new feelings they had for him.

"STOP!!" (Reader) took off, slamming their face into a wall with a force loud enough to draw the attention of skeletons.

Said monsters hobbled closer to the group of panicking adventurers, drawing the attention of the dizzy and confused hero, who recognized the tatters draping the undeads' bones immediately.

Clerical wizards and holy people smiled at the young adult knowingly as they tried to explain, with all seriousness, the illness plaguing their body whenever their "brother" was near.

"Calm down!" The healer begged, trying to cool the panicking person down.

"No! You should all be in heaven! Why are you here?!"

Why am I here?

Whispers seeped out of the door to the Boy's room, whispers the jealous cleric-in-training on the other side did not recognize. Unable to contain their envy, (Reader) burst into the room, only to see their exhausted blonde friend standing alone in the center.

"[•••••], who were you talking to?" They demanded, eyes narrowed and shaking. At hearing his own name his cloudy eyes widened, accentuating the bags hanging heavy underneath.

"I was just praying.." His arms engulfing his angry "friend" instantly dowsed their fire, almost hypnotizing them with his touch into forgetting that they thought they had heard a second voice. "If I'm.. If I can be as strong as you, then we'll be able to spend more time together, right?"

Your God wasn't listening, so I found a new one.

As (Reader) remembered a life that wasn't their own, so did the abomination from the basement.

Each floor that their bodies drew closer also brought back pieces of their souls; souls that could only exist together.

He came to me, and offered me a deal.

The Man woke his old friend when the sun wasn't close to rising, climbing over their body under their blankets. As soon as their lips parted to question his actions, his tongue was in their mouth.

With no light to guide them the two kissed passionately and without experience. They didn't know what they were doing, just that they needed to feel one another.

(Reader) greedily grabbed the sides of his face to pull him closer, legs shifting to feel his body against their own, instantly stopping at the realization that his face was wet under their palms.

"[•••••]?" They tried to pull back as he leaned in, trapping them against their pillows. What they first thought to be tears was too warm and thick to be water. Roughly pushing him back, (Reader) illuminated the small space with magic, frightened.

Blood leaked down and smeared across his cheeks as [•••••]'s bloated, red eyes were on the verge of popping.

"Shit, we finally got passed them!" The barbarian wheezed out. "Those boney bastards were fucking tough, no thanks to you!" He directed that last part to the nearly comatose hero being supported by the healer.

"no.."

The young magic user barely heard the sick patient whimper. They had been muttering gargles of nonsense for a few levels, so it was worrying seeing them lucid and frightened; eyes round of scared, pointing at the door the barbarian was about to open with all their strength, shaking. "No..."

"Why were they so tough..?"

The door swung open with a loud bang, and a tendril shot through, piercing the barbarian's skull and splattering the scholar behind him in brain matter.

"He had made a pact with a devil."

A man bubbling alive screamed in agony as he attempted to tear off his hands to rid himself of the holy chains keeping him tethered to the floor.

Mother Lillian made an audible sound of pain as she choked back her feelings. Years of meditation and worship, and she could not keep a stoic face despite this being her job. So many exorcisms she performed. So many monsters she'd slain.

But this was her son.

"We can exer-"

"We have already tried that." (Reader) felt their world shatter. "This was a contract, not a possession."

A paladin in golden armor offered a sorrowful expression that seemed genuine. "The only thing we can do is to put him out of his misery."

"No!" They cried out, attempting to launch themselves at the godly man as their grieving mother held them tighter to her chest. "Let me see him, please! I can talk to him! Convince him to give up the name of the devil, so we can hunt it down and save his soul!"

"That's-" The paladin was cut off by Mother Lillian's icy glare. That was a long shot. Not only would it be a reckless waste of human life to hunt down a devil for one man, said man was delirious, borderline demented. There was no reasoning with him.

Bloody holes where eyes once sat welcomed (Reader) as they entered the cellar prison.

Without his sight, he could still see. He saw with scent and sound. The sound of their blood rushing through their veins made their shape, and the natural odor of (Reader's) sweat identified the body. He smiled, another tooth falling out as he did so, joining the wet pile on the floor.

"(Reader)~.."

"Tell me the name of the devil you serve." They kept their voice even and still, despite the quake rattling their spine.

"You came for me~ Just like he said!~" A pop ended his sentence, one of his arms dislocating as he pulled on the chains to get closer.

"Just like who said?" (Reader) fell to one knee, leaning in as closely and as they safely as they could. "Please, tell me the name of the devil you made a contract with."

"And now you'll love me!" He squealed.

"I want to save you!" (Reader) grabbed his shoulders but was instantly repelled, throwing themselves away and back towards the door. His skin had slipped off and stuck to their fingers. "Please, please just tell me!"

"God made me strong so you would love me!"

(Reader) turned to run out.

"Wait. Where are you going?" His voice almost sounded like his own again. It pulled (Reader's) hand away from the handle.

"I need to hunt down the devil that did this to you." Their voice trembled, barely containing their tears.

".. what?" The smile was gone as more skin stripped off the decaying body. "No?"

The pain was beginning to return. It had left when his love entered, but now that they were threatening to leave.

"You can't leave? No! NO!" His face tore as he slammed his skull down onto the floor. "Don't leave me! You need to love me! Please don't go!"

Corpses lay around the detached person slowly coming to terms with their apparent reincarnation. They knew they never returned to that tower in their previous life. They spent their entire life searching for the devil that stole their first love's soul, and died bleeding out on a battlefield, forgotten by history and remembered by no one. Unknown to them, the tower with their forgotten family did not carry on their legacy, for it had sunk while they were searching and they had simply never heard the news.

Perhaps, there were no gods, only devils. Because even the most righteous people to have ever lived were damned to wander the tower as the undead instead of passing over to the afterlife. It wasn't fair.

(Reader) gazed up at the tumorous creature that had massacred their party with glassy eyes. The name they couldn't recall during their entire discovery of their past life rolled off their tongue as they reached out for him-

"Ydenn."

A language no longer spoken by a people that no longer lived; suddenly the language (Reader) had known their entire life was replaced by something much older.

Skinless hands grabbed (Reader) gently and raised them to eye level. "(Reader).."

He called them by their past name, bruising their hips under his fingers. (Reader) briefly worried that they were about to die, that all these years alone Ydenn thought they had abandoned him, and that all he desired for all these years was revenge.. but instead he pulled them close, smashing his face against theirs in a mock kiss.

Without lips his gums rubbed painfully against their lips, but it felt just as hungry and desperate as their first kiss under the covers. (Reader's) body may have felt different in his arms, but he knew it was them.

They parted their lips for his invading tongue, now longer and monstrous, it moved like a writhing worm inside their cheeks before pressing itself down their throat, pulsating and hot. Ydenn's hands tore off their top, effortlessly going through multiple layers to feel their bare skin against his raw muscles. He sat their body on his mound of flesh, unable to think of anything other than becoming one with them.

A bright light filled (Reader's) vision as their pants were removed, suddenly replacing the horrific scene with a pleasant dream. Lying in the bed they owned well over a century ago, Ydenn held them under his naked body, face red and glossy from his crying baby blues. "I finally have you again." With a wide smile he kissed them again, smiling harder when they eagerly reciprocated.

They pulled back just to say "I tried to save your soul, Ydenn! I'm sorry I never came back, I'm sorry for dying!"

Just like the angel (Reader) remembered him to be, his face cracked under the weight of his joy, hearing his love babble underneath him as though they were nervous of his feelings. "You came back for me~"

"I'm sorry it took so long." Now (Reader) was also smiling through tears. "I'm sorry I never told you.. that.. that I already loved you!"

(Reader) could feel his erection press against their thigh and willingly opened their legs, making room for him.

Ydenn's heavy pants hit their ear as he dropped his face into the crook of their neck, caressing his dick with one hand as he rubbed its tip between their legs. "Tell me you want to become one with me."

Shivers pimpled their skin in anticipation as they looked down between their bodies at his swollen cock. "I want to become one with you."

There was a searing pain that pieced (Reader's) core.

With a blink the dream was gone, and (Reader) was back facing the skinless half living corpse; a thick tendril made of gore and once-human meat penetrating their stomach.

Vomit and blood spat out across their chest as the throbbing entity began thrusting in and out of the wound it created. Their eyes gave away their shock at the treachery. The wound was too deep and too sudden; the immediate pain was already gone, and they felt numb from the waist down.

"Yd-Ydenn?" They choked on his name, but the gurgle of blood went unnoticed by him. Just hearing his name spurred him on. His teeth scraped against theirs as he began violently fucking the hole he had created. The tendril raped their abdomen like a prehensile penis while his hands ground their urine soaked groin against the growth that was his lower half. Each slap of their bodies bore the wound deeper, spraying blood and mulched intestine.

Between slaps were images of that dream, almost within (Reader's) grasp. They could almost feel pleasure, as they imagined running their hands through his hair as he pounded them into their bed.

They could hear the bed creaking against the hard wood floor as they reached their orgasm, excitedly moaning as they spasmed under his crushing pelvis. (Reader) could feel something building within them, threatening to pop as his dick slammed into something inside of them perfectly.

Just as it was spilling out, the rush of a climax vibrating their system, a loud thunk brought them back to their bloody reality.

Their glazed eyes lulled to the side to find the source of the loud sound.

(Reader's) severed bottom half lay on the floor, only attached to their torso by the stretched out intestines and leaky organs barely holding on.

The disembowelment of his lover didn't seem to phase the monster, still making love to them as more smaller, wriggling pieces of flesh penetrated (Reader).

They could feel the tendril writhe up into their chest, and wondered how they weren't dead yet. It rubbed itself against their heart, leaking an inhuman precum against their weakly beating organ. Through the black goop they thought they could see blue irises smiling back at them with happy tears.

"I love you, (Reader)."

Hot fluid splashed up into their brain as he came inside of their nearly hollowed out cavity, then the world went black.

There was a creature at the bottom of the tower, that no adventurer dared to attack. It never killed unprovoked, but it's kill rate was perfect.

It was a strange creature, a large ball of rotting chunks of human meat, held together by dark magic. Out of the tumor like creature sprouted two torsos, one more decayed than the other, and they were often seen embracing one another, creating ungodly sounds that echoed throughout the entire tower.

Though they forgot how to speak and see, their names never each other's mouths, repeating them over and over to one another without end. They had no need for sleep, nor rest. It was as though they forgot they needed to eat and even breathe.

They only needed each other.

[frazzledsoul]

The primary reason Lorelai prefers Dean to Rory's other boyfriends (to the point where it seems that Lorelai is enjoying the relationship far more than Rory is) is because Dean is so controlling and demands that Rory spend every waking moment with him, to the point where she doesn't have time for any outside interests or friends. Rory can't be swayed by the rich kids at Chilton or their hard-partying lifestyle that got Lorelai in trouble if Dean monopolizes all her time (the only person she socializes with there is Paris, another outcast). Her only real friend at Stars Hollow High is Lane, another sheltered only child with a highly constricted social life. Rory is constantly negotiating with Dean to get him to go to events, because he doesn't want her to go alone or to spend time with other people. Much of their time is spent just hanging out with Lorelai, with Dean as a sidekick to Rory and Lorelai's domestic routines. Dean keeps Rory's world small, tied to Lorelai and Stars Hollow, with no room to contemplate life outside of the bubble that Lorelai created. He heavily micromanages Rory's social life and Lorelai likes that, to the point where she is constantly encouraging Rory to not do anything to upset him, to anticipate his wrath, to forget about her attraction to Jess who she tells her doesn't really like her because he moved onto Shane when Rory wouldn't take him seriously as an option. She needs to stay with Dean to make Lorelai happy, because Rory (unwisely) views her as having better judgment in romantic matters and she wants to please her mom.

Jess is a threat because he reminds Lorelai of the person she was when she was a teenager, wild and rebellious and itching to escape from the life she didn't want. Jess is not made for Stars Hollow: he represents all of the art and the literature and the worldly adventures that Rory dreams of experiencing someday. He's a force that's going to pull her away, and Rory is sexually and intellectually attracted to him, having outgrown the safety of her tightly controlled relationship with her dimwitted beanpole of a boyfriend. Jess doesn't want to be part of Stars Hollow life, he wants his time with Rory to be with her only, and if she wants to do the cheesy town stuff that's cool with him because he doesn't seek to control her every waking moment. He can have his interests and she can have hers and their time alone can belong to them and both Lorelai and Rory...have a hard time adjusting to this. There's definitely some middle ground to be had here, but Jess doesn't want to do what Stars Hollow expects him to do because they hate him anyway and I'm pretty sure Rory was his first serious girlfriend, so he was out of his depth even if he wanted to conform...and he was too emotionally damaged to be much good to anyone at that point anyway. That said, Rory does seem to make an effort to socialize the most among the Stars Hollow crew while they are together and do her own Chilton stuff, so maybe it was in her best interest not to be tied to someone who insisted on controlling every single thing she did.

Logan is a mixed bag, because prior to getting involved with him Rory was alone for an entire year and hated it. She struggles at the paper, doesn't make any real friends at Yale except for Marty, comes home every weekend, and eventually gets involved with Dean again because she wants to relive her youth before realizing they actually don't have anything in common. She's sucked in by Logan's lifestyle and his hard-partying ways but she hasn't really let herself be involved in this kind of thing before, so she enjoys it until she doesn't. Logan doesn't actively seek to control her, she's always there by choice, and he never tells her she can't hang out with other people or do things on her own...but she still gets subsumed by him because it's what her primary experience of being a girlfriend is. When Jess goes to find her in Hartford, she has no idea of what to do in the city because even though she's lived there for six months, she still defaults to doing what her boyfriend wants to do.

I think this does get better in the seventh season, because she did gain a little bit of independence after she got back together with Logan, but also because he's elsewhere, his entire supporting cast of characters isn't around, and she's forced to make friends on her own and deal with things that don't revolve around her significant other. (Also, their relationship is relatively stable, so even though there is tension with Marty and Lucy, it's not really an insurmountable obstacle). She seems to have learned by that point it's okay to argue with your partner and not have it be the end of the world and to have parts of your life that don't revolve around him, either.

Of course, that is not ASP, even if it was something that needed to happen. It seems that the patterns set up early with Dean and Lorelai controlled Rory's life for a long time and negatively influenced how she interacted with the other guys. Remove AYITL from the equation (yes, please) and it puts Rory in a position to reconcile with Jess on the campaign trail or afterwards, because she's finally able to entertain the thought of maintaining an independent existence while being part of a couple.

[simplydannie]

Vaughn Montegue

Working on some stuff! Wanted to include some fluff amongst the angst! ❤️

After a rough adventure in Under Rageous months ago… the twins can finally be stable…. They can finally live a somewhat normal life, and finally redeem that family they’ve always wanted…

Though, it’s not quite the family everyone would expect, but a family nonetheless.

Floyd paced back and forth at the steps of the Bergen Palace.

“Seriously? You’re making me nervous. Just take a breather man.” Branch told him. He still had a cast that bound his arm… it had only been months since their adventure down in the under-city. It felt like a fever dream, but it was real, the danger, the near death experience… the salvation of all the Trolls in Under Rageous… Definitely something neither of the brothers wanted to relive, but definitely something they wouldn’t forget.

“Sorry! It’s just the first time I see them in months after everything happened. They agreed to spend time here, to stay over… I just want them to have a good time so they can keep coming back.” Floyd replied.

Branch shook his head and sighed, “I think if they didn’t want to come back they wouldn’t have agreed to your offer to stay here.”

“I guess you’re right. It’s their first time out in the world, away from Rageous and its craziness. Plus, it’s going to be our first impression.”

Branch arched an eyebrow, “First impression?”

“Yeah. There dad is dropping them off.”

“…. You’re, you’re kidding. He’s coming too!” Though they had made their peace with Vaughn, something about him still shook Branch to his core… the guy was intimidating.

“The twins see me as their dad, but I can’t replace their actually father. He’s trying to mend things with them, and this was part of his agreement.”

Branch fidgeted.

“You’re… Are you scared of him? He did save your life.” Floyd was astonished.

“What? No! Me! Scared of a 9 and a half foot tall Rageon! Psssshhhtt.” Branch scoffed.

“….. You’re scared of him….”

“Shut up.”

The black limo made its way down towards Bergentown. Veneers face was plastered on the window taking in the sights of the outside world for the first time… it was amazing…the smells, the sights, everything about it. There was so much life. For eighteen years he was surrounded by nothing but the synthetic life of Mount and Under Rageous. He began counting trees once he started seeing them.

“… 200!…. I think.” He said.

“God you’re pathetic.” Velvet murmured staring at her brother.

“Velvet.” Her father’s tone was stern and serious. He sat opposite staring out the window as well. His arms and legs were crossed.

“What are you thinking?”

His thoughts were disturbed by his son’s voice. Vaughn turned to see both his children staring at him. It felt different, yet felt familiar, having them both here again…

“Are you certain you want to do this?” He finally responded.

“Stay with the Trolls?” Velvet asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, yeah! We promised Floyd. We still want him part of our life. I-I mean…” Veneer began to stutter. Vaughn scoffed, but his son was right. The little troll was there for them when Vaughn failed to be the father they needed. He admired, but hated it at the same time. He couldn’t figure out what he really felt about the Troll.

“It’ll only be a couple of weeks anyway.” Velvet assured.

“And if you want to stay more?” He asked.

“Then we’ll just ask.” Veneer responded with a smile.

Vaughn looked at the window again, “…. And if you want to stay forever?”

The twins glanced at each other: so that was it. He was afraid he’d loose them again. Afraid they wouldn’t want to come home… like the last time. But this time… it was different. This time it felt like there was hope in them being a family again…. Veneer didn’t want to ruin that, and deep, deep, deep down, Velvet didn’t want to either.

“Chill dad. Please don’t tell me Veneers sentimental mess is rubbing off on you?” She said.

“Sacarasm. So you do learn something from me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“We’re not going anywhere. We…. We want time with you too.” Veneer responded almost inaudibly, but Vaughn heard, a small smile crossing his face as his children weren’t looking...

The scenery began to change as they neared Bergentown, fences began to appear, the road changed from dirt to cement. The limo turned in as the gates opened…

“They’re here! They’re here!” Poppy chimed as she bounced off the walls of the palace.

“Poppy. Please. Just tone it down a small bit.” Branch said. They saw a black limo pull up at the palace steps as they made their way down.

“A limo? Huh? Fancy.” King Gristle added.

“It’s Velvet and Veneer. What do you expect?” Floyd smiled as he marched down. His brothers were close to his heels. It was only Floyd and Branch in Under Rageous all those months ago. The others only knew about what happened in the stories they told. This would be the first time they saw the twins since their little fame fiasco a year and a half ago now…. This would be the first time they met their father too.

“You think this gift basket is fine for them?” Bridgette asked, “I added the normal sweets everyone likes.”

“As long as it comes from your heart girl.” Viva replied with a smile.

They all watched as a Bergen got out of the drivers seat and made his way around the back to open the doors, Velvet and Veneer were the first to step out. To Poppy and the others, they looked different. They didn’t sport their glam attire. For once, they were just regular teens again. Floyd jumped and ran down to them.

The Bergen guard handed each twin their duffle bag. Velvet glanced up at the Bergen Palace with skepticism but Veneer was overjoyed.

“This is so cool!”

“Sure Ven. Sure.”

They looked down at their feet as Floyd ran up to them. Bending over Veneer scooped him up with one hand, a wide smile growing on his face.

“I’m glad you guys agreed to come. The others help me planned activities to do while you’re here.” The small Troll beamed.

“I’m excited! I haven’t really been able to talk about anything else all day!” Veneer chimed.

“Literally. It was starting to get annoying.” His sister added.

King Gristle made his way to the two Rageons with Bridgette and the other Trolls behind him, “Welcome! I know we kinda met back in Mount Rageons, but not officially. I’m Gristle and this is my lovely lady wife, Bridgette.”

The small female Bergen smiled and waved sheepishly, “You’re hair is like super pretty.” She said to Velvet.

“Oh. Well, thanks I guess.” She replied. Veneer caught Branches eye, giving him a small little wave. The small little Troll smiled and waved in return. He wouldn’t admit out loud, but he had grown a soft spot for the Rageon, for both…

Upon hearing the door open, out of the black limo behind them appeared another Rageoun… but they noticed he stood nearly 2 feet taller than the twins. There were similarities between them that much they could see. He wore a black vest with a white button up rolled to his elbows…

“Guys, this is our dad, Vaughn. Dad, this is everyone else.” Veneer introduced. Vaughn studied the small group in front of him… his children decided to make friends with small Trolls and small Bergens? Not his first thought of the type of friends his children would end up with… but at least they finally had friends…His ice, cold eyes staring at them all… it was terrifying, yet intriguing.

“Hummina, hummina.” Poppy murmured. Branch casted her a quick look, his eyebrow arched in disapproval.

“Hey! I’m right here!” He scolded.

“What? What did I say?” A look of genuine confusion crossed her face.

“….. Wooooww.” Viva stared, butterflies flying in her stomach.

“Toootttally.” Bridgette twirled her hair. She bashfully made her way up to him handing him the gift basket. “Some snacks. Just in case you want something sweet.” She winked.

Vaughn looked at the twins, Veneer shrugged and nodded, “Um, thank you.”

“Oh even his voice is hot.” Bridgette giggled gleefully.

“Ew. That’s my dad.” Velvet twisted her face in disgust. Gristle pulled Bridgette away eyeing Vaughn.

Viva smirked, “Well your dad still has it.”

“Ew okay stop! Let’s go inside now please before this conversation gets TOO weird!” Velvet swung her duffle bag over her shoulder.

Floyd hopped off Veneers hand and walked to Vaughn, it should be intimidating how tall adult Rageons are, but it was familiar to the small Troll.

“So you’ll pick them up in 4 weeks or I’ll drop them off?” The small Troll asked.

“I shall be picking them up. And when did we agree to four weeks?” Vaughn responded arching an eyebrow.

Floyd crossed his arms, “When we last spoke. You said yes.”

“Well I don’t recall.” Vaughn mirrored the little Trolls stance.

“Oh no…” Veneer murmured.

Velvet sighed, “Here we go.” The twins prepared themselves.

“Vaughn you said you’d allow them to stay four weeks when we last spoke.”

“No you had mentioned three not four.”

“Come on man, they’ll be with you most of the time, so why not four?”

“I am their father.”

“Hey! Give me some credit! I became as much of a dad to them too!”

“Whoa! Look at you two fighting like an old married couple.” Branch teased.

“QUIT IT!” Both Vaughn and Floyd yelled simultaneously. They continued to bicker back and forth until the twins spoke up for themselves.

“Enough!”

“Guys come on!”

They both turned to look at the twins.

Veneer grabbed his duffle bag and walked towards them, “Why don’t we settle this over dinner. Gristle said he set something nice up.”

“What? But I didn’t agree too-“ Vaughn was cut off by his daughter’s voice as she grabbed him by the arm and began pulling him towards the castle.

“Nope. We ain’t taking no for answer. Let’s go old man.”

“Velvet, I said-“

“Nope she’s right. Family time!” Veneer began pulling him by his other arm.

“Guys if he doesn’t want to stay he doesn’t have to-“ Floyd began to protest before being scooped up by Veneer.

“Nuh uh. You two are both part of our life now and you two NEED to get along.” Veneer pulled Vaughn by one arm while grasping Floyd in his other.

“Yes, the married couple needs to get along now.” Branched teased as they marched back up the stairs. He was met with Vaughns stern glare.

“What sound do they make if I squash them?”

Branch swallowed the lump that formed in his throat.

“He’s kidding Branchy!” Veneer attempted to smile then hushed his voice looking towards his dad, “You can’t say that!”

Vaughn smirked at the twins guided him into the Bergen castle…. This is something he wasn’t used to. The only family he’d known were the twins and his late wife. But these little creatures made his children happy. He finally had them back… and if this new kind of family was making them happy, then he’d give it a chance…

The same thought was going through Floyd’s mind as he was firmly grasped in Veneers hand. It won’t be easy, but he’d give Vaughn another chance. Deep inside he felt they weren’t very different… they both loved and cared for the twins after all.

[asacredthebread]

cover by @no-other-mashter

A Cabin In The Woods - Ch3

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Sam x F!Reader

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚢?

Warnings/ Themes: Nice Sam, still only one bed, tying up his hair, reminiscing, implied boner, cliffhanger.

an: I can only apologise for the cliffhanger, I didn’t want this chapter to be too long! If you want to be added to a tag list specifically for this series, please feel free to DM me!

wc; 13.2k

taglist - @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake @dannys-dream

As the two of you settled into the game of twenty questions, the atmosphere lightened with each exchange, and it felt like a playful dance around unearthing cherished memories. You began with an easy question about favorite childhood toys, and the conversation effortlessly flowed, delving deeper and bringing laughter that echoed off the cabin walls.

When it was his turn to ask, he decided to steer it into the realm of nostalgia, “What’s your favorite memory of us when we were kids?”

You grinned, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes. “Oh, I’ve got one for you. Remember that time you tried to impress me by climbing that tree in the park?”

He couldn’t hold back a laugh as you recalled the moment vividly. It had been a glorious afternoon, filled with sunshine and laughter, the scent of summer in the air. Sam, ever the daredevil, had attempted to climb higher than any kid had a right to. “How could I forget? I was so sure that I would be able to reach the top.”

“Yeah, and then you got stuck halfway up,” you replied, chuckling. “You thought you’d look cool, but instead, you were just hanging out there, calling for Jake like he was going to be your knight in shining armor.”

Heleaned back against the couch, shaking his head and grinning. “And who came to the rescue? Not Jake, that’s for sure. It was you, running over all in a panic.”

“Oh, yeah! I was a lifesaver,” you agreed, laughter dancing in your eyes. “I remember you were gripping that branch for dear life, trying to look casual, all the while internally freaking out while yelling for Jake to come help you.”

In your mind’s eye, you could picture the young Sam, arms splayed out in a desperate attempt at coolness, his cheeks flushed as the laughter bubbled in your chest. “You were so determined to impress me, and instead, you ended up looking like a raccoon caught in a tree.”

“Hey!” He feigned offense but couldn’t hold back the laughter. “And don’t forget how we both ended up with skinned knees after you helped me down.”

“Oh my god, yes! I forgot about that.” The joy of the memory washed over you as you recalled the tumble down, landing in the grass with a thud, both of you laughing despite the little scrapes. “But it was so worth it. We were laughing so hard, even with the bruises.”

“The best kind of adventure,” he added, and there was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that seemed to wrap around both of you as you relived that moment.

As the laughter died down, it was Sam’s turn to offer up a memory of his own. “Okay, my turn.. I think my favorite would have to be one of the early Fourth of July trips - the one where we went rafting?”

You tilted your head, encouraging him to share his own treasured remembrances. “Oh my God, yeah I remember that one!”

“Oh man, that was epic,” he said, a wide smile spreading across his face. “I can still see Josh getting tipped over into the water. It was classic.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him at the memory. “And you were so sure you were going to fall in next!”

“Yeah, I dove straight for the oars just in case the worst happened.” Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “But what really cracked me up was Josh climbing back onto the raft, drenched and cranky about his hair. You remember how he kept complaining about how he needed to fix it?”

“I do! He spent half that trip trying to wring it out! He was such a drama queen about it,” you replied, grinning as you recalled the exaggerated gestures he had made.

“Classic Josh,” Sam laughed. “And I just kept paddling like a maniac, trying to avoid any ‘splash zones.’ It felt like a scene from a comedy movie.”

“It really was,” you agreed, feeling the warmth of the day wash over you again. “Those trips were the best. I can’t believe how much time we spent doing things like that.”

The nostalgia hung in the air, sweet and warm, anchoring both of you in those carefree days of youth. As you shared stories back and forth, delving into memories framed by laughter and adventure, the cabin felt less like a prison and more like a cozy sanctuary filled with the echoes of your shared history.

“Okay, my turn,” you said, still glowing from the laughter. “What’s your favorite dessert from back then?”

Sam’s face lit up, and you felt another ripple of excitement as the game continued, revealing stories that brought you closer. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of fond memories, it occurred to you how the silly game and shared laughter were weaving together a tapestry of connection that neither of you had anticipated—but might just make your time stuck here a little brighter.

As the laughter began to fade, you and Sam settled deeper into your respective couches, the novelty of the game giving way to a more comfortable rhythm of conversation. The initial awkwardness had started to dissipate, replaced by the familiar ease that you both shared. Sam's light teasing and your playful banter wove a tapestry of warmth that transformed the secluded cabin into a safe haven, despite the situations outside.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall, the hands inching closer to the midday mark. Realizing that you hadn’t eaten yet and that it was about time to make lunch, you pushed yourself off the couch, stretching your arms overhead. “Okay, I think it’s time for me to whip something up for lunch,” you said, glancing over at him.

“Wait,” Sam interjected, his demeanor still slightly cool but beginning to warm, a hint of something softer flickering in his eyes. “I’ll make it. You made breakfast, after all.”

You paused, surprised by the offer. “Really? You don’t have to—”

“I want to. Just sit and relax for a minute.” With that, he started to rise, but then he suddenly reached for his hair, quickly pulling it back into a ponytail.

The attempt was ambitious at best. A few rogue strands stubbornly escaped the hold, sticking out in every direction, amassing around his face like a wild halo. You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the sight of him looking half-determined and completely disheveled striking you as humorous. “Oh my god, Sam! You look like a tornado hit your head!”

“Shut up,” he said, rolling his eyes, but even he couldn’t suppress a smile. “It’s functional enough, okay?”

“Functional, but definitely not cute,” you teased, your laughter still bubbling. “Here, come sit by me.” You beckoned for him to come closer, inviting him into the space between your knees with an open smile.

He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he assessed the offer, but something in your voice, the playful tone, softened him. With a begrudging sigh, he relented and moved closer, settling cross-legged on the floor between your knees, facing away from you.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get too comfortable,” he muttered, though there was a playful undertone in his voice.

As he sat, you felt a swell of affection course through you. There was something intimate about this position, this shared space. It felt like stepping into the past, a return to the uncomplicated moments of carefree childhood—an era when everything was innocent and the connection was effortlessly simple.

“You know,” you said softly, your fingers itching to reach out, “if you’re going to sit there with that mess of hair, I might have to intervene.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, feigning innocence, but you could see the way his shoulders tensed as he anticipated your next move.

With a teasing smile, you reached forward and gently pulled the hair tie out of his hair. “We can’t have you looking like this while making lunch,” you said playfully, as your fingers began to rake through his hair, seeking to smooth out the knots and tangles.

He made a subtle sound of protest, but the tension in his shoulders eased as you worked your fingers through the mess he’d created. “Careful with the hair! It’s valuable,” he quipped, his tone a mixture of annoyance and amusement.

“Valuable, huh?” you teased, gently tugging at the strands as you brought them back to their natural state. “This could probably double as a cleaning tool given how crazy it gets sometimes.”

“Just wait until I find a mirror and fix this,” he smirked, shooting a glance back at you, though a small laugh escaped him, betraying his good-natured spirit.

You focused on the task at hand, fingers deftly separating the tangled strands. The warmth of his body so close to yours brought a comforting glow, a friendly intimacy that you hadn’t expected to feel today. Your fingers danced gently through the hair, smoothing it out, inadvertently creating a soothing rhythm that resonated between you.

As you worked, the cabin filled with an easy camaraderie, and for a few moments, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared bubble of connection. You could feel the subtle shift in Sam, the way his initial tenseness began to ebb away, as if he were letting go of burdens that weighed on his shoulders.

And while you were lost in this simple act—calming the chaos that had formed on top of his head—there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in the air. Despite all the unspoken things lingering between you, this moment felt like a quiet declaration of friendship, a gentle reminder that trust and comfort could blossom even in unexpected situations.

As you carefully worked through the tangles in Sam's hair, you focused intently on the task at hand, relishing the way your fingers glided through the strands. Each gentle tug was deliberate, a conscious decision to avoid pulling too hard. You noticed that Sam had relaxed further beneath your touch, his body unwinding into a comfortable posture, and there was a softness in his demeanor that hadn’t been there before. It was as if the chaotic morning had dissipated, replaced by this unanticipated calm.

His hair was surprisingly soft, the strands silky and warm as they slipped between your fingers. The slight sway of his head every now and then suggested he was leaning into the moment, a rare vulnerability that he rarely allowed himself to show. You imagined that for him, this was a secret indulgence, perhaps a moment stolen from the rigid boundaries he often constructed around himself. You’d seen glimpses of it last night—the unguarded laughter, the shared stories—but now you were starting to feel the layers he was shedding while you cared for him.

As you gathered his hair into a proper ponytail, you recalled how different things had been just a few hours ago. This morning, he had woken up guarded and closed off, almost like a statue encased in frost. The harsh words exchanged between you last night lingered on the edge of your mind, still fresh and sharp enough to draw blood if you focused too hard. But as you bound his hair together, you couldn’t help but feel the change in the air, like a tide turning.

This morning, Sam had snapped at you, his cool demeanor piercing through the sleepy haze you both had woken up in. But now, under your gentle ministrations, he was starting to melt. You felt your heart flutter with the realization that he was perhaps beginning to warm up to you again, that maybe he yearned for change just as much as you did.

You tied the hair securely with a hair tie, making sure it was both neat and comfortable. “There we go,” you murmured, admiring your work. “Much better.”

The moment you stepped back, Sam turned his head slightly to glance at you, his expression a blend of surprise and appreciation. “Wow, you’re like a hair magician or something.”

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” you replied with a grin, feeling both playful and warm inside. With your fingers still tinged with the softness of his hair, you settled back into your position, observing him closely.

His smile was genuine—there was no faking it. You took a moment to appreciate how different it felt to see him relaxed, the tension he usually carried serving as a reminder of all the unkind barriers he placed around himself. In those moments, you could allow yourself to hope that perhaps he was letting you in again.

“Last night was intense, huh?” you ventured, looking for a way to bridge the developments.

He nodded, running a hand through the newly tied ponytail absentmindedly before letting it fall over his shoulder. “Yeah, you could say that.” His voice was contemplative, and the way he paused suggested more was lingering beneath the surface.

“That’s an understatement,” you said lightly, trying to ease the heaviness of the moment. “I didn’t think you’d turn into a drama king overnight.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, diffusing the air around you. “I might argue that title belongs to you, given the way you threw your hands in the air.”

“Touché,” you replied. “But I’d like to think my drama comes with style. Yours, however… well, let's just say it lacked finesse.”

He humorously rolled his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I was completely justified.”

The easy banter settled into a comfortable rhythm, and as you exchanged witty remarks, you wondered if this was a fleeting moment or the beginning of something more promising between you.

As he leaned back slightly, resting his shoulders against your legs, you felt the shift in the atmosphere. His actions spoke volumes; he was inviting you into his space, allowing yourself to push through the walls he had built. And it struck you—had his actions this morning been a true look into how he was feeling about it all, or had he simply been terrified of what could change?

“What do you think we were fighting about really, all these years?” you asked, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “I mean, was it really just about me breaking up with Danny?”

He sighed softly, his gaze directed at the floor. “Honestly? I think it was more about everything else—the things left unsaid, you know?”

You nodded, your heart racing as you recognized the truth in his words. “Like what?” you pressed gently, prepared for this opening. “What’s really bothering you?”

He hesitated, momentarily lost in thought, and you could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes. The warmth and comfort you had shared seemed fragile, but the opportunity was there, tantalizingly close. You could sense that your question had opened a doorway to a deeper conversation.

“I guess… I don’t want to mess up again.” He admitted slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “After everything that happened, it’s hard to not want to protect myself.”

“Protect yourself from what?” you asked, leaning a little closer, wanting nothing more than to understand him more fully.

“From feeling that heavy attachment again,” he said, his voice lower still. “You know? It’s like… I can’t decide if fighting and pushing you away is worse than letting you in.”

His honesty washed over you, a mix of vulnerability and strength that left you momentarily awed. And in that moment, you felt the sincerity of your connection, how deep it ran despite everything that had happened. You realized that in those shared moments, there was a potential for healing, an opportunity to rewrite your narrative together, to guide him through the delicate landscape of re-establishing trust.

“Sam,” you said softly, letting your voice steady. “We’ve both messed up before.”

“I know. But I hate feeling this way. It’s like I’m stuck.” His tone was heavy, but the tension was lightened by the way he leaned back further, comforted by your presence.

“Are you scared?” you ventured, wanting to keep the conversation open, to keep peeling back the layers.

“Yeah,” he said, his admission almost swallowed by the space around you. “Scared of getting too close, scared of it ending poorly again.”

You took a deep breath, considering your next words carefully. The last thing you wanted was to push him into a corner, but the truth bubbled beneath the surface. “But isn’t it worth the risk?”

He turned slightly, meeting your gaze. “Sometimes I wonder. But then I look at you and think…maybe you’re worth the risk.”

His admission sent a rush of warmth through you, the weight of your earlier tension lifting as hope began to bloom in the pit of your stomach. You realized then how deeply you cared for him, just as he cared for you, despite the mistakes and misunderstandings.

“I want to be close to you, Sam,” you confessed, your voice steady. “But I also need you to meet me halfway.”

“I can try,” he replied, his voice becoming more certain, the warmth radiating off him growing brighter.

With renewed determination, you decided to keep the conversation flowing. “So, what if we agree to be honest with each other, no matter how hard it feels? I don’t want to fight anymore. I want us to find a way to navigate all this together.”

He nodded thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That sounds good. And, um, thanks for doing my hair.”

A teasing smile crept onto your face. “You’re welcome. But I’m still claiming my title as the hair magician.”

Sam chuckled again, and it felt like a refreshing wind sweeping through the room. You realized that those moments of laughter became the threads binding you closer, the small fumbles and fleeting moments leading to something solid and real.

As the sun shifted position in the sky, casting warm rays that filtered through the window, Sam finally broke the comfortable camaraderie you two had built over the last hour. He stretched lightly, the motion causing his muscles to ripple slightly beneath his shirt, before pushing himself up from the couch.

“Okay,” he said, patting his knees. “I think it’s time to make us some lunch.”

You laughed, the sound light and carefree, enjoying the rhythm of the moment. “You’re not a magician in the kitchen too, are you?”

He shot a cheeky grin over his shoulder as he walked toward the small kitchenette. “Magic does not extend to the culinary arts. You’re gonna have to lower those expectations.”

You settled back in your spot, momentarily enjoying the view as he rummaged through the cabinets. A comfortable silence enveloped you, only punctuated by the rustling of bags and the clinking of pots. But, as you watched him prepare the food, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was still wrestling with the lingering shadows of your past.

Just as he started to pull out ingredients for sandwiches, he glanced back at you. Pausing for a moment, he finally began to speak again, sentiment spilling forth like the ingredients he was arranging. “You know, when you were dating Danny, I was… jealous.”

The word hung between you, heavy yet almost relieving, like the steeping aroma of something familiar wafting through the air. “Jealous?” you repeated, surprised by the unexpected turn in conversation.

He nodded, his expression growing serious, the laughter of moments before evaporating. “Yeah. Jealous because it felt like he took you away from me. From us. And jealous of him too, for having you in a way that I never could.”

Your heart sank a little at his confession. It was like unearthing a hidden scar you never knew had festered beneath the surface. You had never wanted to take anything from him—not in any measure that would lead to hurt—and it pained you that your relationship with Danny had driven this wedge.

“When you broke up,” Sam continued, his eyes focused on the counter as if searching for answers in the disarray of ingredients, “I took it as a good excuse to put distance between us, hoping it would lessen how attached I felt to you.”

As he spoke, you felt a knot form in your chest, realizing this post-breakup handling of emotions hadn’t been easy for him. You wanted to reach out to him, to offer comfort or understanding, but you stayed where you were, focusing on his every word.

“I thought if I pulled away, maybe those feelings would fade,” he admitted, turning to face you fully now, vulnerability etched into his features. “I honestly hoped that the breakup would lead you to...leave the group or at least distance yourself. I thought that would give me some peace and help me forget.”

Silence lingered between you as his confession sank in. The tension that had previously hovered in the air twisted, reshaping itself into raw honesty, echoing with the weight of unresolved emotions.

When you finally found your voice, you said, “But… I didn’t want that. I thought we could all still be friends, especially after everything we all shared.”

He nodded slowly, a faint frown creasing his brow. “I know. But then you didn’t leave. Instead, you became even closer to everyone else. And that just… it hurt. I guess I was really good at putting on a cold shoulder, and it felt easier, less messy.”

You could feel the ache in his voice, the weight of what he had carried alone. “But you didn’t have to push me away,” you said gently, your heart aching for the distance he had imposed on himself. “I was always here, Sam. You just… made it hard for me to reach you.”

He looked at you, the flicker of confusion mixed with longing in his eyes. “I was afraid,” he admitted, his gaze softening. “Afraid of what might happen if all those feelings bubbled to the surface again. And I didn’t want to lose you completely if it came down to that.”

Your heart raced. Each word he offered peeled back another layer of the complexity of your relationship, an intricate web of desires and regrets tangled together. Realizing the depth of his feelings was overwhelming yet brought forth a realization of your own.

“That night,” you started, recalling the echoes of a disastrous argument that had happened the night that you and Danny had broken up, “that wasn’t just a fight about you defending him, was it? We were both dancing around the things we didn’t want to face.”

Sam sighed as he began assembling sandwiches. “Exactly. It was easier to argue about little things instead of the real issues between us. You know, the ones that just seem to sit there, getting heavier every time we ignore them.”

There was an earnestness in his voice that made you feel both grounded and exposed. “So what do we do now?” you asked quietly, wanting to navigate this emotional territory cautiously yet deliberately.

He paused, his hands stilled briefly over the sandwich he was preparing. “I think we start by being honest with each other, like we just did. And maybe—”

“Maybe?” you prompted gently, your hopes beginning to rise.

“Maybe I let the walls come down a little,” he said, finally looking up to meet your gaze. “I can’t promise it will be easy, but I want to try.”

A soft smile spread across your face. “That sounds like a good plan. I want to try too.”

For a moment, there was a quiet understanding, an acknowledgement of the journey you were about to embark on together. It wouldn’t be simple, but there was a sense of hope threading its way through the cracks of uncertainty, daring to breathe life back into a friendship that had been battered but not broken.

Once the sandwiches were prepared, Sam turned back to you, setting the plate down with a flourish that broke the tension that had built in the room. “Ta-da! Lunch is served.”

You laughed, the sound echoing in the small space as it filled the air—light and freeing, a shared warmth that began to solidify the fragile connection you both had rediscovered. “You might not be a magician in the kitchen, but this looks pretty good,” you replied, reaching for a sandwich.

As you took your first bite, the taste of fresh ingredients mixing with the warmth of the moment felt like a small victory. With every bite, it felt like you were breaking bread with the chance of a new beginning. The remnants of jealousy and distance were still there, but now they seemed manageable, recognizable. The beauty of reconnecting was not lost on either of you.

Over lunch, you let the conversation flow, mixing lighthearted banter with deeper reflections. You laughed about memories of shared failures in the kitchen, reminisced over particular moments of friendship, and slowly unraveled the need for vulnerability in learning about each other’s fears, insecurities, and desires again.

In this newfound space sparked by honesty, an invisible thread began to weave its way back between you, one that spanned the depth of both understanding and affection. You realized that both of you had wanted to protect your hearts, but somewhere in the tangle of it all, you had lost sight of what had made your friendship so special in the first place.

And as laughter echoed against the walls, mingling with the aroma of lunch, you began to see that the journey you shared wouldn’t be marked by moments of jealousy or fear anymore, but by a continuing commitment to face everything together, step by careful step. The lunch transformed into something far more important—a chance for reconnection, cautious yet filled with promise, a shared meal that symbolized the beginnings of healing and understanding between two people who had once been adversaries in their own hearts.

As the afternoon sunlight began to wane, casting a golden light across the cozy cabin, you and Sam settled back onto the couch, the remnants of your shared lunch cleared away. The warmth that had begun to grow in the room was palpable, not just from the freshly constructed sandwiches but from the renewed connection between the two of you. Conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the gentle rhythm of vulnerability being woven back into your lives.

Seated close together, you felt the comforting warmth of his presence beside you, the tension of the morning a distant echo. You glanced out the window, watching the sun sink lower on the horizon, streaks of orange and pink spilling through the trees. It was a beautiful sight, the world outside igniting with color, and for a moment, everything felt right.

But as the afternoon drew on, you could sense the shift in the air, the faint chill creeping back in. Sam seemed to notice it as well, for he shifted slightly, glancing toward the fireplace where the logs lay dwindling and half-burnt. Finally, he sighed and stood up, allowing the blanket he had draped on his lap to slide off slightly.

“We’re going to need more logs for the fire soon,” he announced, his tone steady, yet with a hint of urgency. “There’s only a few left and it’ll be getting chilly in here.”

You nodded, realizing he was right. The cozy heat surrounding you would soon dissipate if you didn’t take care of it. Sam made his way across the room to the door with a determined stride, but just as he reached out for the handle, he paused mid-motion. A laugh bubbled up from somewhere within him, catching you off guard.

“Hold on” he chuckled, turning his head back to you, mirth dancing in his eyes. “The log. Door’s blocked.”

You felt a genuine laughter escape your lips, the memory of that chaotic tumble bringing back the echoes of last night. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take you to realize!” you replied, enjoying the shared amusement that lit the atmosphere.

He huffed in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Of course, you would let me stumble around like an idiot.” But the smile that followed suggested he was teasing more than he was genuinely frustrated.

“Oh come on, it was kind of funny!” you shot back, letting the laughter linger. “Watching you move like you were on a mission while all that time there was just a need for a little creativity to get past that log.”

“Creativity,” he echoed with a grin, shaking his head as if dismissing the idea. “I’ll show you ‘creativity’ by throwing the darn thing out of the way next time.” He paused again but relished the shared chuckling.

With a subtle change in energy, Sam sauntered back over to the couch, fully retreating from his stint at the door. “Actually, I think I’ll just grab a blanket instead,” he said conspicuously, a hint of levity to his tone.

You leaned back into the warm cushions, content to let the moment linger a little longer. “A smart plan. Why battle logs when you can pull a cozy blanket around us, right?”

With a swift movement, he reached for a blanket draped over the back of the couch. It was thick and fluffy, perfect for wrapping up against the encroaching cold. Sam flung the soft, textured piece over the two of you before settling back down beside you, the familiarity of his warmth returning immediately.

“See?” he said, wrapping the blanket snugly around both of you. “Now we’re prepared for anything.”

You nestled close to him, sinking into the palatial fabric as a sense of comfort enveloped you both. “Much better. I always knew you were resourceful—just needed a little nudge to realize the simpler solutions,” you teased gently, your head leaning against his shoulder.

He gave a modest shrug, feigning a lack of interest in your compliment. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Well, you do have your moments,” you replied, your voice playful yet sincere. “But seriously, it’s nice to have this time together.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice softening as he gazed into the flickering flames. “I’m really glad we’re talking again. It feels… right.”

You paused in contentment, feeling the warmth radiate not just from the flames but also from the bond you were rebuilding together. “It does,” you affirmed, and silence settled between you, a warm cocoon in which to process everything you had shared.

You both leaned into the embrace of the moment, wrapped in the blanket and in each other’s company, the fire crackling gently in the background. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the serene heartbeat of the cabin and the tenuous peace of two souls opening up to one another again.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you turned your head slightly to face him. “You know, I actually like how things are changing between us,” you ventured, wanting to underline the significance of this moment. “It feels like we’re finally being honest about everything.”

Sam nodded, his expression pensive. “Yeah. There was so much holding us back before. I think I was just scared of taking that first step again. But now… it feels different.”

“I was scared too,” you revealed softly, feeling emboldened by his admission. “I didn’t want to lose you either—this deeper friendship, or whatever it is we’re building. I kept waiting for you to pull away, and I hated it.”

A shadow flashed across his face, a hint of regret that met your gaze. “Yeah, and I guess I clung to that cold shoulder because I thought it would protect me. But here we are, wrapped up against the world.”

You felt the heat of connection burn brighter between you. “I think we can face anything together,” you said, your voice steady.

He turned to you, his eyes glinting with warmth. “You’re right. It’s about what’s ahead that matters. I’m tired of running from my feelings. Let’s keep the door open this time.”

As you looked into his eyes, the echo of laughter and friendship melded together, creating the potential for something more profound. And in the enclosing dark of twilight, with only the soft glow of the fireplace illuminating the room, you felt ready to embrace every shift, every nuanced feeling that lay ahead.

With the warmth of the blanket between you, the shared memories glowing like embers around you, and the light of newfound understanding growing steadily, you both settled into an understanding that the evening was only the beginning. A pathway to uncharted territories of connection and possibility lay ahead—one built not just on shared histories, but also on the willingness to forge ahead, together, navigating whatever storms might come your way.

“You’ll have to tell me more about the secret magician hair tricks next,” he said after a moment, breaking the thoughtful reflection.

“Oh, I have plenty of those up my sleeve!” You laughed, and leaned deeper into his side, feeling the connection solidify with each shared moment between you.

You nestled deeper into the blanket, the warmth cocooning you as you and Sam exchanged comfortable glances, the moment inviting connection and open conversation.

With a soft sigh, you broke the silence, your curiosity bubbling to the surface. “So, how does it feel to have just completed the tour? I mean, it’s been such a whirlwind of a year for you guys!”

The question sparked a light in Sam’s eyes, igniting recollections that danced across his expression like the flickering flames in the fireplace. “Honestly, it feels surreal. We played in cities I never even thought I’d visit—a complete dream come true.” He leaned back slightly, a nostalgic grin spreading across his face. “From Tokyo to Paris, each show felt like a little slice of magic.”

Your heart swelled with happiness for him, the shared experiences of the tour coloring your view with an appreciation for their hard work and the art they created together. “It’s incredible what you guys have accomplished. I can't even imagine what it was like performing for all those crowds.”

“Yeah, it’s exhilarating but exhausting,” he replied, the laughter in his voice merging with a hint of weariness. “But it’s always worth it. The energy from the shows fuels everything we do.” He paused, his gaze settling on the dancing flames, and you knew there was another layer tacked onto his thoughts. “You know, the creative process is something we’ve honed over the years, especially when writing new songs.”

“Really? How does that work?” you inquired, leaning in with genuine interest.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar gesture that indicated he was transmitting from a well of fond memories. “Jake and Josh have this tradition of going somewhere remote to kick off the songwriting process. Nature seems to do something fantastic for inspiration—the silence, the fresh air—it just makes the words flow so much easier.” He chuckled, that warm and rich sound bringing a smile to your face. “I mean, we could never function on a tour bus like that. It’s got to be about disconnecting a little and finding that space to breathe.”

You nodded, imagining the landscapes they must have explored during those visits. “That sounds amazing. I can totally see how that would help.”

A glimmer of mischief flitted across his expression. “Speaking of which, I remember this one trip a couple of years ago. We took a hiking break, and it was supposed to be this epic adventure in a remote area. Great views, the works.”

“Let me guess, something went hilariously wrong?” you teased, egging him on.

“Oh, it was a comedy of errors,” he confirmed, a broad grin stretching across his face. “Danny just loved to show off, and while we were wading across the stream, he decided to hop on a stone for a better view. Well, he didn’t quite have the finesse he thought he did and ended up slipping right into the water.”

You burst into laughter, picturing the scene unfolding in your mind. “Oh no! Did he get soaked?”

“Absolutely! He went in with a huge splash, and it was all very dramatic,” Sam recounted, his eyes glinting with the kind of nostalgia that only comes from shared histories. “Jake, of course, did his best to save him, rushing over without a second thought to pull him out. But in true comedy fashion, he slipped right after Danny and fell in too!”

You laughed harder now, picturing the chaos of it all—the indignant yelps and the surprise splashes, two of your friends turned into a giggling mess in the middle of nature’s tranquility. “That’s amazing! I can only imagine how that must have looked.”

“It was ridiculous,” he admitted, shaking his head as he chuckled. “Here they were, two grown men floundering around in a freezing stream, while Josh just stood back, dying from laughter. He couldn't even help, he was just taking pictures, documenting the whole disaster!”

You continued to laugh along, your eyes sparkling with mirth. “What did Danny say after he got out? Was he mad?”

“Oh, he was furious at first—not at Jake, but at himself for being so reckless. But honestly, who could stay mad when you’re both wet, shivering, and covered in mud?” Sam smiled, his voice softening as he reminisced. “In the end, we all just started cracking up together. It became one of those memories that bonded us more than any of our successes.”

“That’s what it’s all about, right? Those crazy moments that bring you closer together?” you mused, your heart warming at the thought.

He nodded earnestly, his gaze thoughtful. “Exactly. It’s like every little adventure and misadventure adds to the tapestry of who we are as a band. Each experience, whether a success or a failure, is part of our story. And it sometimes leads to the best songs.”

“And I bet that one probably inspired a whole new track, didn’t it?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Funny you should say that,” he replied, an enthusiastic light returning to his eyes. “We did end up writing a song about it—we call it ‘Throwing Stones’ to poke fun at how we got there. It’s fun, upbeat, and it just ignites this lively spirit, reminding us to laugh, no matter the chaos!”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” you replied, a mix of excitement and sheer admiration warming your chest. “It’s so cool how you guys can turn life’s unpredictabilities into art.”

Taking a moment to let the conversation settle, Sam leaned back into the cushy sofa, his arm casually resting behind you on the back of the couch. “Honestly, it’s what keeps it all alive. Music, friendship, even the madness—if you can embrace it all, it makes the triumphs that much richer.”

Your eyes met his, and there was a understanding in the silence that followed, one that stretched beyond words. The stories, the struggles, the laughter—all wove together into an experience that you both cherished.

As you settled deeper into the blanket, you felt contentment wash over you anew. The gold of the setting sun faded into shadows outside, the room illuminated only by the soft flickering glow of the fire. The warmth between you felt like a harbor, anchoring the both of you in the present moment—a safe space where laughter, history, and genuine connection could thrive.

Feeling emboldened, you decided to dive deeper. “Speaking of songs, do you think you can write one with all the changes happening in our lives right now?”

He looked at you intently, his expression shifting thoughtfully. “For sure. It’s not just the crazy moments on tour—it’s the little things, the reconnections, the honest conversations. I think the feelings we’re going through right now are just as important.”

You smiled softly, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like the blanket you shared. “I’d love to hear how that transforms into music.”

“I promise I’ll write it down. Maybe we can even work on it together,” he suggested, that playful glint returning to his eyes, the allusion to past collaborations lingering in the air.

Your heart danced at his words, the prospect of shared creativity intertwining with the connection you had reignited. “I’d like that very much, Sam. Collaborating with you would be fantastic.”

He nodded with a satisfied smile, and again, a silence bloomed between you, but this time it was steeped with promise and possibility. As the fire crackled and the room darkened, the flickering shadows played across your faces, two souls wrapped in warmth, laughter—a reflection of the journey that had brought you both to this moment.

And there, beneath the soft glow of fading daylight, you found comfort not only in the stories you shared but in the future that stretched before you, painted with music, laughter, and above all, an effortlessly evolving connection.

As you nestled into Sam's side, the blanket wrapping snugly around both of you, a sense of warmth enveloped you both, not only from the fabric but from the connection that seemed to shimmer in the air. You felt a sense of comfort being this close, and it drew you even nearer, the soft sounds of the crackling fire filling the space around you.

“I’ve been following your journey online, you know,” you confessed softly, looking up at him with a smile. “Scrolling through Twitter during the tour has been quite the adventure, seeing everyone's reactions to your performances.”

A spark of curiosity flickered in his eyes. “Oh yeah? What were people saying?”

You giggled, letting the memories wash over you. “It’s hilarious! There were so many tweets about the lines forming for your shows. Some fans camped out for days in advance, posting about every silly thing they did to pass the time. I felt like a part of this massive movement!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s wild! You’d think they were waiting for some major festival or something.”

“Exactly! And every time you guys finished a show, the excitement would literally explode on social media.” You took a moment to gather your thoughts, excitement bubbling within you. “I even made it to a few shows myself.”

“Oh really? You were there?” His interest peaked, and you could feel the warmth from his gaze as he leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah! I didn’t want to be too loud about it, but I watched from the back a couple of times,” you admitted, unable to hide the joy in your voice. “It was absolutely enchanting.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious. “Enchanting, huh? I like the sound of that.”

“No, seriously!” you laughed, your heart swelling with the memory. “Watching you on stage was mesmerizing. I could really see how into the music you got. The way you moved with the rhythm...” You trailed off for a moment, lost in the memory.

“Yeah? What did you think?” he urged, an eager smile tugging at his lips.

“I loved when you had your bass solo,” you said, excitement creeping into your voice. “The way you walked around the stage, engaging with the audience. It felt like you were sharing this incredible moment with everyone there. You’ve got this magnetic energy that pulls everyone in.”

A warm flush crept to his cheeks, and for a moment, his humility radiated through the modest smile on his face. “Wow. I appreciate that. I just try to make it feel personal, you know?”

You nodded enthusiastically, the memories firing off one after another. “Exactly! It felt like you were feeding off the crowd’s energy. The way you’d look out at everyone, and the smiles you exchanged—it was infectious!”

“I’m glad you felt that. I love the connection with the audience.” He paused, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “What most people don’t realize is how important they are to the show. Their reactions fuel me just as much as the music itself.”

You felt your heart flutter at the passion in his voice, a reminder of why you admired him so much. “And every time you handed out a pick, you could see the reactions. It was like handing them a piece of treasure! The way their faces lit up—there's something so special about that.”

He chuckled, a knowing smile crossing his face as he leaned back into the couch, continuing to bask in the shared memories. “It’s like a little moment of connection, isn’t it? Those picks become keepsakes for the fans. It’s a small way of giving them something to remember.”

“It is,” you agreed, feeling the heat of your conversation mingle with the warmth of the blanket. “And I loved seeing it. Watching people clutch those picks like they were golden tickets… it kind of made the whole experience feel magical.”

He glanced down at you, a smile gracing his lips. “Now I’m a bit self-conscious thinking about it, but I’m really glad you enjoyed it that much.”

You smiled back, your heart swelling anew. “How could I not? You were in your element, and it was so beautiful to see you shine. Watching you perform was like witnessing a symphony come to life.”

His laughter dotted the air softly, lifting the atmosphere between you. “You have a gift for words. Maybe you should be writing the song instead.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought, the lighthearted banter further deepening the warmth existing in that moment. “Who knows? Maybe you could add a ‘lyricist’ to my resume.”

“I like the sound of that! Adding to your list of talents,” he said, looking down at you with amusement. “What’s next? Life coach?”

You giggled, shrugging playfully. “I mean, I have been known to deliver some pretty sound advice...”

“Now I *have* to hear it,” he pressed, leaning closer, an amused expression dancing on his face. “Hit me with your best life advice.”

You thought for a moment, tapping your finger to your chin in mock contemplation. “Always bring snacks on road trips. It's essential for maintaining sanity! That—and keeping your friends close.”

“Wise words, truly.” His laughter blended with yours, the moment fostering an easy camaraderie, the very essence of friendship flowing through your words and warmth.

As you settled back into his side, savoring the gentle closeness, the conversation shifted, bubbling over with lightness and the warmth of shared memories. The backdrop of the fire crackling softly created a cozy atmosphere, wrapping around you in a loving embrace.

It felt good to reminisce about the tour and your adventures, but even more so, it felt good to be here, sharing those moments with him—his laughter, his warmth, and the joy of rediscovered connections mingling beautifully in the air.

And there, amidst the laughter and shared stories, you both created a memory all your own, a kind of magic that promised to grow, one conversation at a time.

As the warmth of laughter and connection settled around you both, the comforting crackle of the fire flickered gently in the background, casting a serene glow throughout the room. Sam had shifted slightly, leaning his head back against the soft musings of the couch, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest becoming steadier as the minutes passed. His eyelids, heavy and content, fluttered with the remnants of wakefulness before finally surrendering to a peaceful slumber.

You watched him, entranced by the serene aura that enveloped him as he nestled deeper into your lap, his hair fanning out like a dark halo across your legs. In that moment, the bonds of friendship seemed to intertwine with a deeper intimacy—one that felt both profoundly natural and blissfully perfect. You absentmindedly combed your fingers through his hair, letting the silky strands weave between them as thoughts of the evening glided through your mind.

With a gentle tug, you pulled the hair tie from Sam's hair, letting it cascade freely down, each strand curling slightly around his face. It was almost poetic—his hair flowing with the same graceful rhythm that had captured your admiration during his performances. As you settled comfortably into this newfound closeness, you felt compelled to play.

Curiosity sparked within you as you decided to experiment a little with his hair, almost as if it were an artistic endeavor. You gently gathered the long strands, separating them with a delicate touch, and began to braid them into a single ponytail once again. The careful movements felt meditative, each loop and twist taking on a life of its own.

“Now, let’s see how this works on you, Mr. Rockstar,” you whispered playfully, glancing down at him to watch his expression remain blissfully undisturbed. He simply sighed softly, deep in dreamland. Encouraged by his peaceful demeanor, you continued working.

Creating the braid lulled you into a calm rhythm, hands deftly weaving the strands together with gentle precision. You found yourself smiling, thinking of how he would look sporting a brand new style, completely unaware of your creative efforts. But just as your fingers settled comfortably, you released the braid, letting it unfurl and fall apart once more, strands cascading in waves back onto your lap.

This process of braiding and unbraiding felt oddly soothing, a quiet conversation between you and your companion without the need for words. Time seemed to slip through your fingers as you continued this delicate play, teasing his hair between your fingers while humming a soft melody you had inadvertently conjured up.

Every now and then, as you let the strands fall apart, he would shift slightly in his sleep, a quiet moan escaping his lips that sent a flutter through your heart. For a split second, you paused, the sound of his contentment wrapping around you like the embrace of a shared secret. It sounded so innocent, so vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel a profound affection swell within you—a mixture of protectiveness and warmth that filled the room like the softest blanket.

After a moment, you resumed your gentle ministrations, braiding his hair again, fingers dancing between strands with precise intention. Each intricate weave melded your shared laughter, memories, and the warmth of togetherness into something tangible—something that felt deep and meaningful under each gentle twist of his hair.

With every new braid, you caught little glimpses of him in his dreams—small smiles playing on his lips as if he were reliving cherished moments from the tour or funny exchanges that had colored your conversations. Sam looked serene, his brow relaxed and his cheeks slightly flushed in the golden glow of the firelight.

You watched the way he nestled deeper into your lap, and for a moment, you marveled at how blissfully unaware he was. It was intimate in such a gentle way that you almost didn’t want it to ever end. As you tangled strands into another braid, you found yourself lost in thought. The vulnerability of the moment, the trust shown in how easily he had fallen asleep, tugged at your heartstrings in ways you had not anticipated.

Each new braid became a pathway for the affection you felt, weaving and flowing between braids and unravels, signifying the push and pull of emotions that danced around the two of you. You started to think about all the late-night conversations, all the concerts, and the laughter that bubbled up so easily between you two. The thought warmed you, wrapping around you like the blanket you shared with him, creating a cocoon of honest sharing and pure companionship.

As you continued this quiet ritual, he stirred slightly again, another soft sound slipping from his lips, as though echoing a distant memory. You paused, glancing down at him, momentarily losing yourself in the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. It was almost like he was calling out to you even in sleep, urging you to continue the tender act of care. And with that, you returned your focus to the strands of hair, starting again to play.

This rhythm flowed easily between you, wrapping time in layers of delicate connection. For a while longer, you focused on your braid, weaving in dreams, laughter, and the essence of who he was outside of the stage—the calm after the storm, if you will.

The combination of the crackling fire, the warmth of your bodies curled comfortably on the couch, and the gentle play with his hair created a bubble where the outside world began to fade away.

It was a surreal blend of reality and dreams, and within that intimate space, you felt as if this moment—this connection—was something effortlessly beautiful. And perhaps, it was.

As Sam settled deeper still, you traced your fingers across his forehead gently in the most tender of touches, and the pure, unguarded vulnerability in that quiet moment made your heart flutter again. His hair felt so soft beneath your fingers, and for just a moment longer, you indulged in the serene pleasure of this peaceful companionship, weaving the strands of his hair, almost as if to weave a bond that transcended words themselves.

The hours seemed to slip away as you became lost in the quiet charm of the moment, completely absorbed in the magic of simplicity—the essence of friendship that was evolving right before your eyes. A smile played on your lips as you let your thoughts drift, cradling him gently as he slept soundly, warmth radiating from the both of you.

And in the golden glow of that soft light, time ceased to exist, and you both savored the beauty of just being—tangled in friendship, laughter, and the way life had a knack for stitching together its most unexpected moments into something not just meaningful, but endlessly cherished.

As you continued your gentle ministrations with Sam's hair, the softness of the moment wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. The world outside slowly darkened, painted in deep shades of blue and indigo, quietly ushering in the late hour. You found yourself lost in the rhythm of the evening, shaping and reshaping the delicate strands of his hair, momentarily submerged in the wiggles of tranquility that filled the couch.

With a sigh, you pulled your gaze away from your delightful task and glanced towards the clock nestled on the mantle. The numbers glowed softly—far later than you had intended. Time had slipped away from you without fanfare, each moment merging seamlessly into the next. You felt a knot of warmth in your chest, half wishing you could freeze the time in this perfect, serendipitous place, yet realizing that the night was pressing on.

Looking outside, you saw that the vibrant hues of twilight had vanished, replaced by the dark cloak of night. The moon hung high above, radiating a silvery glow that illuminated the edges of the passing clouds. The stars peeked through as well, twinkling like a scatter of diamonds across the fabric of the sky. Yet with the night came a distinct chill that began to creep through the window, curling around the edges of the room, an insistent reminder of the late hour.

You turned your gaze back to him, still sound asleep in your lap, blissfully unaware of the passing time or the chill that encroached upon the cozy living room. His breathing was steady, and though he appeared peaceful, the cold air reminded you that maybe it was time to consider drifting off to bed. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—his relaxed features, the way his lashes fanned gently against his cheeks—he looked utterly serene, like a child lost in the tranquility of a warm dream.

You brushed your fingers lightly against his forehead, wanting to keep him close, but knowing that the warmth of slumber would soon give way to chilliness if you didn’t act. Gently, you nudged his shoulder with the lightest of touches, careful not to startle him too much.

“Sammy...” you whispered softly, your voice barely piercing the quiet air. “It’s time to wake up.”

He stirred slightly, his brow furrowing before he let out a small sigh of contentment, but he didn’t quite rouse. You nudged him again, a little firmer this time, relishing the opportunity to tease him a bit. “Sammy, come on. It’s getting late.”

Finally, he cracked his eyes open, blinking against the dim light of the room. “Huh?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. His gaze fell on you, a sleepy smile spreading across his lips. For a fleeting moment, he looked utterly adorable, still caught between the realms of dreams and waking reality.

You smiled back, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. “It’s really late, you know. The fire's died down, and it’s getting a bit chilly.”

He lifted his head from your lap, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn that made your heart flutter. “Wow, I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep,” he said, rubbing the remnants of drowsiness from his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late enough that we should probably head to bed,” you said softly, leaning in to meet his gaze more directly. “We don’t want to freeze out here.”

With a lazy grin, he looked around the room, as if only just realizing how cold it had indeed become. “I guess I got a little too cozy,” he chuckled, shaking off the last vestiges of slumber. “Guess that’s what happens when you’re surrounded by two of my favorite things—good company and a warm blanket.”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment. “I’m glad you feel that way,” you said sincerely, heart swelling with warmth. “But really, I don’t think we want to push our luck with the cold.”

“True,” he agreed, swinging his legs off the couch and sitting up fully. He stretched again, a fascinating set of movements that revealed the elegant nature of his body, the way years of performing had molded him into a beautiful form. You couldn’t help but appreciate the sight, a mix of admiration and the comforting familiarity coloring your gaze.

As he finally stood, you couldn’t help but admire the casual grace he possessed even in moments of drowsiness. He brushed the hair from his forehead with a half-hearted attempt to tame it, which made you stifle a giggle at how endearing he looked.

“Let’s grab some blankets and head to bed, then?” he suggested, his voice dipping lower with the suggestion, the idea of retreating into the warmth of the night drawing you both closer together.

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement building at the thought of snuggling up together after such a cozy evening. “I could use a warm bed after all this.”

“Lead the way!” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, and you found yourself smiling brightly as you headed towards the stairs that led up to the bedrooms.

As you ascended, you could hear the sound of his footsteps following closely behind, the rhythm of your movements blending into an understated melody that wrapped around you, adding another layer of comfort to the night. With each step, the chill dissipated, replaced with a warmth that thrummed quietly in your chest.

Once in your room, you swung open the linen closet, retrieving extra blankets that you wrapped around your arms like a comforting cocoon. Glancing over at Sam, you couldn’t help but let a soft smile slip onto your face as he pulled the curtains open, peering through the window at the starry night outside.

“I can’t get over how beautiful it is out tonight,” he remarked, his voice threaded with a hint of admiration. “It always feels like another world after a night like this.”

“And now we have our own little refuge,” you responded, a sense of contentment spreading through you. “We’ll be warm and cozy in here.”

He turned back to you, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “You know, if my hair keeps falling all over the place, I might have to borrow those good company skills to keep it tidy again.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you tossed him one of the blankets. “I think I can help with that! But right now, it’s time for some rest, don’t you think?”

His grin widened, and you could see the sleep still lingering in his eyes. “Definitely.”

As you settled into the bed, layering the warm blankets around you, you couldn’t help but feel that the day—though it had ebbed away—had transformed into something magical and real. The laughter you had shared, the moments of quiet intimacy, and now this gentle transition toward rest felt like a beautiful culmination of a night well spent.

You could sense that the warmth of friendship had deepened into something more—not overt, but definitely there, like those stars twinkling faintly in the night sky above you.

As you nestled into your blankets, feeling the comfort envelop you like a gentle embrace, you stole one last glance at Sam before you closed your eyes. He had settled himself beside you, cocooned in his blanket like a soft, sleepy giant. His eyes had begun to droop again, the peaceful look returning as he sank back into the warmth—not just of the covers, but, you realized, of this beautiful, unspoken bond that formed between you both.

“Goodnight, Sammy,” you whispered, voice thick with gentle affection.

“Goodnight,” he murmured sleepily, a soft smile gracing his features before he finally succumbed to the embrace of slumber once more.

With the stars gleaming outside and the warmth of your connection wrapping around you, you drifted off to sleep, heart lighter and mind filled with dreams of laughter, friendship, and the promise of many more nights like this to come.The night deepened steadily, and the world outside gradually transformed into a crisp, silent realm as the cold coiled itself around the house. Even with the warmth of the blankets and the intimacy of your shared space, the chill felt insistent beyond the window, a stark reminder that the winter night was far from forgiving. You could hear the wind whispering against the glass, an almost haunting sound that sent shivers dancing over your skin.

In the cocoon of your blankets, you felt warm and safe, the warmth between you and Sam a palpable comfort that ebbed and flowed like the quiet whispers of the night. You had sunk into a peaceful slumber, dreams flitting in and out like shadows. But suddenly, you sensed a stirring beside you—a shifting of the weight that seemed to draw your attention.

You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented as the dim light of the room seeped back into your consciousness. As your awareness came back, your gaze landed on Sam, who had pulled himself closer to you, his body pressing against yours with an urgency that seemed uncharacteristic of the calm from before. There was a softness in the way he nestled against you, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin, surrounded by the material of your blankets.

“Wow, it really got cold,” Sam mumbled sleepily, his voice muffled against you. You could feel his exhalations against your arm, and it sent a wave of warmth flooding through you, contrasting sharply with the chill creeping into the room.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at the ticklish sensation that accompanied his slight facial hair brushing against your skin. The playful scratchiness felt both intimate and amusing, and you choked back another laugh as a ripple of warmth swept through you. It was a mixture of affection and something more, and you had to force yourself to focus, to rein in your bubbling mirth.

“Okay, okay, Mr. Cuddlebug,” you chided softly, pushing against him gently in a mock protest. “Are you trying to steal all my body heat?”

He chuckled lightly, his face still settled against your shoulder, creating a feeling of cozy closeness. “I can’t help it; you’re warmer than the blankets!” he exclaimed, a playful innocence in his tone. His fingers, in their warmth, found their way to your waist, encircling you slightly and pulling you closer.

You could feel your heart race in response, and for a fleeting moment, you basked in the comfort of his proximity, the way your bodies fit together so perfectly beneath the layers of blankets. However, as you settled back into the cushion of warmth, you became undeniably aware of a different tension that had built between you—something subtle but increasingly noticeable.

Sam’s body pressed against yours had suddenly shifted from a purely innocent cuddle to something a little more heated. As he nestled deeper into your side, you felt the unmistakable pressure of his arousal against you—a solid warmth pushing into your hip. You swallowed hard, sudden awareness flooding your senses with a mixture of surprise and something undeniably alluring.

The affectionate, cozy atmosphere blossomed into something charged, and it sent your thoughts spiraling in conflicting directions. Part of you wanted to tease him, to playfully bring attention to the situation, but another part—a more cautious side—felt the indescribable gravity pulling you both into unfamiliar territory. It was a sensation that blurred the line between friendship and something deeper.

“Um, Sammy…” your breath was caught in your throat, shaky and uncertain as you turned your head to glance down at him, intrigue licking at the edges of your hesitation. The room had grown unbearably still, the chill outside forgotten in the fervent warmth of that moment, yet a flicker of nervousness danced through you.

He lifted his head slightly, meeting your gaze with a drowsy smile. “What’s up?” His voice had a softness, a still murmur caught between sleep and waking, and it only served to amplify the unusual tension of the moment.

You sensed the vulnerability radiating off of him, that moment when both of your thoughts seemed to converge upon the same realization yet carried with it the weight of unvoiced expectations. “You’re… um,” you started, faltering slightly though you knew you needed to address what was becoming obvious. “You know you’ve got, like, a little—”

His expression shifted, realization dawning on him, and the playful, sleepy demeanor gave way to something more aware. His cheeks flushed lightly as he hastily shifted away from you, creating a space between you both as abrupt as it was unexpected. “Oh—wow, I didn’t mean to—sorry,” he stammered, the words coming out with a breathless rush.

Despite the sudden awkwardness, a giggle escaped your lips before you could hold it back. The laughter surprised you both, filling the room with an unexpected lightness, easing the tension that had sparked in that shared space. “Oops,” you mused playfully, your heart still racing, “Guess I should’ve seen that coming.”

With a sheepish smile, Sam ran a hand through his hair, looking slightly embarrassed but equally amused at the whole situation. “Yeah, I should’ve thought that through,” he admitted, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. “Guess I got a little too… comfortable?”

The laughter lifted, repeating in playful waves, and you found that the initial shock had morphed into an intimate moment—one that held the potential for deeper understanding and connection. It was a hesitation, a boundary that shifted ever so slightly in the warmth of your friendship, yet it felt inherently right—the tension transforming into a shared secret.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, the night being too enchanting for discomfort to linger. “We’re just two friends keeping warm, right?” You nudged him gently, teasing as you decided to playfully lean into the moment rather than shy away from it.

“Right, just two friends,” Sam echoed, a little more playfully now, his gaze meeting yours with that familiar spark of mischief you’d come to adore.

But even as the playful exploration lingered in the air around you, there was something unmistakably different now; the spark had flared brightly, and you could sense the acknowledgment that extended between you both, teetering in the grey area of friendship and something deeper.

You both sank back into the warmth of the blankets, laughter weaving into comforting silence, and though the laughter had eased the initial tension, you savored the understanding that hung in the air—a shared acknowledgment of hidden desires, of the closeness that drew you in yet again.

Time flowed more easily as you settled back into a comfortable position, Sam’s gaze flickering down to the blankets, a smile lingering on his lips. “Well, since it’s so cold out there, maybe we should keep the body warmth going? It’s definitely cozier that way,” he suggested, his tone laced with a sweetness that made your heart flutter.

“Yeah,” you responded, feeling a wisp of excitement surge within you. “Cozy sounds perfect.”

With that, he didn’t hesitate to pull you back into him, sharing warmth as he wrapped his arms around you once again, burying his face into the crook of your neck, brushing his facial hair against your skin once more in a way that sent delightful shivers tingling down your spine.

This time, though, the moment felt different—an electric thrill ran through you as he nestled in closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. It was a sweet surrender to both the chill outside and the warmth of the connection you both had, a promise woven in that intimate silence: that you would both navigate this new terrain together, exploring what lay ahead in the darkness of the night.

You melted into the warmth of Sam’s embrace, grateful for the cocoon of blankets that shielded you from the biting cold that continued to seep through the walls of the house. The winds outside howled with an unsettling fierceness, but inside, the atmosphere felt luxurious and safe. You reveled in the closeness, but as moments drifted by, the chill creeping into the room began to settle into your bones once more, a stark reminder that winter was relentless.

You couldn’t help but notice how Sam’s body radiated warmth against your skin, and the desire to snuggle in further began to pull at you. With much hesitation, you began to slowly push yourself back into him, feeling the inviting heat emanate from his body. As you nestled closer, the seamless bond between you grew thicker, pulsing with an energy that both excited and comforted you in equal measures.

However, the moment you shifted, you felt the unmistakable outline of his arousal pressing against you, more pronounced now than it had been before. A thrill ran through you—a blend of nervousness and exhilaration—as the proximity heightened your awareness of the situation. He grumbled softly, a sound that reverberated against your skin, sending an unexpected shiver through you.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and still teetering on the edge of drowsiness. The inquiry was laced with both curiosity and something undeniably playful, and his tone sent sparks dancing through the space between you.

You stifled a giggle, and a soft smile broke over your face as you met his sleepy gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you, a blend of vulnerability and amusement that made your heart race just a little faster. “I’m just cold,” you replied, feeling adventurous, even daring, as the words slipped from your lips. “The blankets are nice, but there’s still a chill in the air, and you’re like a human furnace.”

You pushed in even closer, a playful challenge in the way you allowed your body to mold against him, reveling in the contrasts—the warmth you felt from Sam juxtaposed with the retrenching cold. His body reacted, muscles tensing in response to your movements, and for a moment, there was an overwhelming silence, each of you acutely aware of the newly charged atmosphere surrounding you both.

As you settled against him, you felt a flicker of mischief light up within Sam. He brought his face closer, his breath warm against your shoulder as he grazed his teeth softly against your skin, almost like a gentle warning—teasing yet commanding, summoning you to acknowledge the tenuous line you were both now dancing upon.

A gasp slipped through your lips, barely restrained, turning into an accidental whimper as the sensation sent an electrifying thrill through your spine. It was an instinctive reaction, drawn from reflex as you felt the warmth of him pressed firmly against you. In that moment, you realized how close you were to crossing from the comforting safety of friendship into something far more intense, something that sent your heart racing with excitement and trepidation.

The sound of your reaction hung thick in the air—a mixture of vulnerability, desire, and the realization of the intimacy you both shared—in that suspended moment where time seemed to stand still. The world outside faded into silence, and all you could focus on was the delightful tension simmering between your bodies.

It felt exhilarating yet disconcerting, that heady blend of fear and allure. You could feel Sam’s heartbeat against your back, the steady thrum echoing the words spoken in those simmering moments—words unvoiced but acknowledged all the same. It was a collective understanding that this wasn’t merely about comfort anymore. Something deeper was unfolding, an acknowledgment of the chemistry you both had long felt but was now pushing to the surface, begging to be explored.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you processed your surroundings, your fingers playing with the fabric of the blankets, caught somewhere in a liminal space between friendship and something entirely different. Your heart raced as your body responded to the intimacy—the closeness, the warmth, and the undeniable connection that seemed to weave itself tighter with each passing second.

It was a moment that seemed to encapsulate everything you had been feeling, everything that had been lingering in the unspoken air between you, and it felt both intoxicating and frightening. You could almost taste the anticipation hanging there, sparking into something electric, searching for an outlet, waiting for someone to take that leap further into the unknown.

And so you lingered, wrapped in the warmth of impending change, wondering where the night and your burgeoning connection might lead.

The tension in the air morphed from electricity to playful teasing in an instant, the magic of that moment lightening up at Sam’s smirk as he leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. “Wow, someone’s a little sensitive,” he joked, a playful laugh escaping his lips. “Whimpering already? I didn’t think I had that effect on you yet.”

His teasing carried a familiar tone, one that stirred memories you had thought buried. It brought back the days when you two were practically enemies, rivals in everything—classes, sports, and even friendships. The banter was always quick and sharp, filled with snarky comments and snide invitations to outdo one another. You could remember the countless times you had glared at each other across the room, daring another to take the first step into a confrontation.

The nostalgic rush of memories made your heart race for entirely different reasons, and in that instant, your body reacted as if struck by a light bolt. You shot straight up from the bed, the blankets pooling around you in a chaotic mess as your mind jumbled through emotions, battle scars of rivalry colliding with the familiar warmth of affection.

“Are you serious right now?” you exclaimed, voice rising with incredulity. “We were doing so well! How could you fuck it up like this?” The words tumbled from your mouth, a mixture of frustration and disbelief, shockwaves of your past echoing in the heat of your outburst.

Sam's eyebrow shot up in genuine surprise at your sudden shift, the previously playful atmosphere hanging heavily between you. “Wait, what?” he replied, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement despite the severity of your tone. “I was just teasing! You didn’t have to go all dramatic on me.”

You felt a slight rush of adrenaline, the heart-pounding kind that had defined so many of your earlier encounters. There was a thrill in standing up to him, showing that the warmth and affection couldn’t mask the fire you’d once wielded so easily. But before you could walk fully away from the bed, Sam’s arm shot out, gripping your wrist and pulling you back down with surprising strength.

“Hey! If you keep complaining about everything I do, I might just have to give you something better to do with your mouth,” he purred, a mischievous glint in his eye that left no room for doubt as to the implications of his words.

His tone hung in the air between you, an unspoken challenge woven through his suggestion—one that danced brazenly along the edges of the playful rivalry you had once thrived on. You couldn’t help but scoff, a laugh bubbling up from your core at his audacity. “Oh please,” you shot back, arching an eyebrow as you faced him, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips. “You wouldn’t be giving me much to work with.”

The moment hung there, throbbing with tension, humor mingling with the intensity of your previous exchanges. Sam chuckled, the sound warm in the cozy room, and his reluctance to retreat from your banter was palpable, a friendly duel of words as natural as breathing.

“Is that so?” he challenged, his voice low and playful, running his fingers through his hair in that familiar way that always made him seem effortlessly charming. “You’re not even considering what I could do if you stopped being so dramatic for just a minute.”

“Oh, dramatic? Look who’s talking,” you countered, your heart racing at the sheer audacity of your conversation. “Do you seriously think I’m going to just sit here and take it?”

“Are you sure you want to challenge me?” he shot back, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because I could definitely make it worth your while if you let me.”

Feeling emboldened by your tension, you leaned forward just a fraction, closing the space between you two again. “I’m not afraid of you, Sam,” you declared, the words coming out with a playful bite, pulling your old personas of rivalry into a new territory that was somehow easier to navigate grounded in this warmth and shared comfort.

“But, in that case,” he said, leaning in as well, lips curving into a smirk, “you might want to brace yourself.”

A surge of excitement coursed through you as you felt the playful challenge hanging in the air. The dynamic had shifted so decidedly from your past encounters, intertwining the comfort of camaraderie with the thrill of newfound exploration. As you teetered on the precipice of uncertainty, there was an undeniable chemistry shared in those moments, a fire igniting between you as your words danced like flames in a gentle summer breeze.

“Bring it on,” you whispered back, heart pounding at the thrill of the shift. The night felt electric again; the stakes had transformed into something deliciously unpredictable, eager for the two of you to navigate the terrain of what came next.

You both lingered there, on the brink of something new, laughter and teasing biting at the edges, enveloped in warmth, words igniting the very spark that had drawn you together in the first place. It was a heady mix of everything you had been, and everything you could become, wrapped in the bittersweet tension of your shared history and the promise of an exhilarating future yet unwritten.

[rea-grimm]

Sleep protector Sabo

It had been several weeks since that incident. An incident where a fire broke out and destroyed the entire building along with many human lives. You were inside when the surrounding glass began to crack and shatter due to the heat.

It was a miracle you even got out alive. Although you had a lot of burns and glass shards in your eye. You haven't seen on that eye since and you had the biggest scar there. 

The wounds from that incident were slowly healing and you even had an artificial eye so no one could tell the difference. You didn't like how others looked at you anyway.

Either they felt sorry for you or they looked at you from which gang you escaped. You didn't need pity. You wanted to be accepted as you were.

You've also been constantly dreaming about that incident ever since. Nightmares kept you awake and forced you to relive them over and over again.

After a few weeks ago you broke up with your boyfriend because of it. It was clear from him that he was attracted to someone else and that he was with you out of pity.

You had the impression that your whole world was falling apart. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't overcome it.

You had the impression that you didn't manage anything at all. You crawled through the exams with your ears scratched because the teachers took your situation and health into account.

Besides, you were in your last year and you were stuck at a dead end with your final thesis. You had the impression that at this rate you wouldn't be able to hand it in on time.

You didn't get any comfort from your family either. Both your parents died when you were little and all you had left was your older brother. However, he lived across the sea and he could not fly to see you.

Through it all, your brother was there for you. He constantly called you and texted you so you wouldn't feel so alone. You knew that if he could, he was truly there for you.

Instead, he sent you a little gift to cheer you up. You were expecting something small, like a postcard, but when you received the package from the postman you had no idea what it would be.

You took the package inside and opened it. Inside was a golden-furred teddy bear in a blue coat and hat with glasses. You noticed that the fur around his left eye was darker.

You took it out and underneath it was a sign with your brother's writing on it.

"Sorry, I can't be with you. I'm sending you this little protector here instead. P.S. Both of you are equally cute. With love, your brother.” you read it, and it almost made you cry.

You took the teddy bear in your arms and rested your head on it. His fur was soft and kept you warm. You had no idea what it was, but you felt calm and safe with him.

You fell asleep fairly quickly that night, but even now you dreamed about that damned fire. You tried to run away from the flames, but you were trapped. You were in the same room where you lost your eye. You curled up into a ball and hid your head in your hands. How long will you have to live with this?

However, no glass exploded and you had the impression that the fire was no longer as hot as before. You hesitantly put your hands down and looked to see what was going on.

The flames slowly diminished and a young man in a blue coat and hat with glasses stood in front of you. He had his back to you and it looked like he was controlling the flames and forcing them to retreat.

When your eyes met, he gave you a warm smile and held out his hand to you.

"Shall we go somewhere else?" he asked you. You hesitated at first as it felt strange, but eventually, you accepted his hand.

"Aren't you hurt?" he asked you as he helped you stand up. You shook your head. “That's good,” he smiled and started leading you out of the building.

He took you to new, diverse and wonderful places full of adventure. He took you to the desert where he compared you to rare beautiful flowers that grow even in the most difficult conditions.

You observed the stars that he claimed shone just like your eyes. He took you on picnics, and boat trips and always treated you like a princess. He made you feel normal again.

You had no idea how much a good night's sleep would affect you. You had a lot more energy and the world didn't seem so dark. Sure, it still had its dark sides, but it was much more manageable.

You would never expect how much a little teddy bear can help you. You were able to focus more on school and on your life, which had been slipping through your fingers until now.

You even decided to attend the prom you originally refused to go to. Although you didn't have anyone to go there with, you still didn't want to miss it. It was your night after all.

But what was worse, what to wear? To mask your eye or not? These questions raced through your head and kept you up late into the night. You held the teddy bear in your arms and wondered what to do with yourself.

You fell asleep only when you had the impression that someone hugged you and whispered to you to go to sleep. That the morning was wiser than the evening.

Despite all that, you couldn't come up with anything, and you weren't even able to rent or buy any clothes. You thought that you probably wouldn't really go anywhere and you'd rather be at home.

You had the impression that you had even confided in the young man in the blue coat about it during your dreams. He looked at you thoughtfully before beginning to describe a dress that would suit you. He described them so beautifully that you were sorry it was just a dream.

However, when you woke up the next morning, you noticed that you had a blue box with a bow on the chair next to your bed. You had no idea what she was doing there.

You sat up and rubbed your eye. To your surprise, next to the big box was another smaller one.

You got out of bed and went over to the boxes. You opened the big one first. You lifted the lid and pushed the pale blue paper aside. To your surprise, there was a beautiful dress like the young man described in your dream.

You took them completely out of the box, walked over to the mirror and put them on top of you. They were seriously stunning.

You were so blown away that you had to try them on immediately. You put them on and admired how they fit like a glove.

Without taking them off, you walked over to the other smaller box and opened it. Inside was an eyepatch with a velvet band and crystals that resembled drops of water falling over your eye on invisible strings.

You carefully took the jewellery and tried to put it on your head. It fits you perfectly and matches the dress extremely well. You also had several accessories at home that matched it too.

As the days flew by, the evening of the prom arrived. You took special care to look nice that day. Just for the feeling that the evening belonged to you and your classmates.

The first half of the evening went by quite quickly and you didn't even have time to worry about anything else. Entrance, toast, raffle sale...

But as soon as free entertainment arrived, you were there alone. So many people in such a small space and you had no one there to enjoy it with.

In addition, a slow song played and couples flocked to the floor to dance. You were thinking of going to get a drink when your eyes fell on a blond young man in a blue suit who looked like he was looking for someone.

As soon as his eyes fell on you, a wide smile spread across his face. You never saw him at school and the only thing you thought was that he must be a friend or a relative of your friends.

His face was covered by a mask, but it still looked incredibly familiar. As if you met somewhere.

“You look especially beautiful today, princess,” he told you, taking your hand and kissing your fingers. You were at a loss for words. You felt like you were in a dream.

“May I have this dance?” he asked you when he heard what music was playing. You agreed and you went to the dance floor together.

He put one arm around your waist and held your hand with the other. Together you swayed to the music and it felt as if everything around you disappeared and it was just the two of you.

You thought that the young man would stay there with you until the end, but when you went to prepare for the midnight surprise, you didn't see him anywhere after that. It shocked you a little, but the memories of dancing together still warmed your heart.

Some days passed since your prom and you were enjoying a bit of peace at home. You wanted to make it more pleasant with a scented candle.

You found one and lit it. A little way from her you had a teddy bear lying down to keep you company.

You had no idea how you did it, but by some oversight, you managed to drop the candle and set the teddy bear on fire. You wanted to save him, but you had no idea that he would quickly catch fire there.

In an instant, nothing was left of him but a small pile of ashes, the candle went out with them, and nothing else burned down. You just stood there staring with horror in your eyes for several long seconds.

Then you started sniffling, tears started to sting your eyes. How could you be so clumsy and burn your brother's gift? You mentally cursed yourself for it.

“My princess shouldn't be sad,” a knowing voice said into your hair as you felt someone hug you from behind. You were startled and turned to see who it was.

“Sabo…” you breathed out in surprise. Is this just a dream? You thought it through. After all, you only met him in your dreams… but you remembered dancing at the prom with him. Sabo smiled at your reaction and stroked your cheek.

"Besides, now I can protect you here as well," he added softly as his eyes fell on the patch you had over your eye. You kept wearing them here and there. You took her to town today and then you forgot about her.

“Princess, you're more beautiful than you think,” he said and removed the patch from your eye. He cupped your face gently, leaned closer to you and kissed you on both eyelids.

“It suits you better this way,” he said, face a few inches from yours. He literally melted your heart.

"Besides, now we match," he chuckled after a while. At first, you stared at him confused as to what he was getting at when it dawned on you. Both of you had scars on your eyes from the fire.

“That wasn't very funny,” you pouted, weakly punching him in the shoulder. Sabo continued to chuckle before he finally calmed down.

"Sorry," he said with a smile. "I couldn't help myself. But what I told you before I meant it,” he added honestly before leaning into you slightly.

It was up to you to close the gap between you and kiss him. Your protector.

Sleep Protector Masterlist

One Piece Masterlist

This chapter is for @kath-loves-toast

Amazing art created by @kath-loves-toast

[xcherryerim]

Any JHutch character playing with readers tits pls

New Memories

Futturman x afab reader | childhood friends to…

tw: Lots of boob play | Playing with tits | Massaging cock with tits | sucking on boobs | fingering reader | giving Futturman head | Reader licking their own come | Slightly awkward friends fucking each other | humor | Hachi machi mentioned | porn with no plot. WC: 2K

Notes: Revised this once. don’t come at me. I feel extreme lazy rn.

credits to: @/cafekitsune for the divider

Laughter and the scent of nostalgia filled the air as Josh pleaded with wide, eager eyes, "Come on, it will be like old times! We haven't had a sleepover since we were ten – remember the endless hours we spent playing video games, watching our favorite shows, and talking about nonsense…Let's do it again tonight!"

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical. "Well, Josh, we haven't had a sleepover since we were ten, like you said." Your voice trails off, contemplating whether this was such a good idea after all.

Ignoring your doubts, Josh grabs your hand firmly, leading you towards his bedroom. "That's exactly why it'll be so much fun! Trust me, my bed is huge, we'll barely even touch each other." A wide smile spreads across his face, revealing his dimples.

With a slight sigh, you allow yourself to be led by Josh, feeling a hint of uncertainty creeping in. Hesitation is written all over your face as you trail behind him. Upon hearing your skepticism, Josh turns towards you, meeting your gaze once again.

"I promise it'll be just like those childhood days," Josh assures you with a grin, trying to convince you as he gently tugs at your hand. "We can catch up and relive some old memories, and who knows? Maybe make some new ones too."

As you follow him into his room, you can't help but feel a mix of nostalgia and nerves. The walls are adorned with posters from your favorite TV shows and movies, taking you back to simpler times. As you look around the room, you can't help but notice how much has changed since you were last here.

Josh heads over to his bed and starts making it more comfortable for the two of you, pulling out an extra blanket and a pillow. He then turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I always thought sharing a bed with you could be interesting... in the most platonic way, of course!" he jokes, winking at you.

You chuckle nervously, finding it hard to believe that you're about to share a sleeping arrangement with your friend. But there's something endearing about the fact that nothing seems to have changed… for now.

.

.

.

After spending hours immersed in laughter and adventure, the two of you found yourselves drifting off to sleep, still lying on the large bed, facing opposite directions.

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open, catching sight of Josh's movements and the soft, husky sounds coming from his lips. Intrigued, you realize that he has his arms wrapped around your chest, groping and fondling you with reckless abandon, seemingly unaware of his actions due to his slumber.

"Josh?" Your whisper cuts through the silence, trying to rouse him from his unconscious state.

Slowly, his eyelids flutter open, revealing the grogginess etched in his expression. "What...what are you doing?" you inquire, confused by the situation.

His eyes darted down to his hands, only to register the reality of his actions. "Oh, sorry about that." He mutters sheepishly, as if it were an innocent mistake.

"I was just dreaming...about stuff. It doesn't matter." With a small laugh, he tries to pull away, but the force of his dreams still lingers in his touch.

Your body instinctively responds to his touch, arching slightly without your conscious control. You can't deny the unexpected thrill coursing through your veins as his fingers continue to caress and tease your sensitive skin.

Noticing your reaction, Josh appears to gain confidence, leaning closer to your ear and asking, "Can I keep doing this?" His breath tickles your skin, and the warmth of his body presses against your back, his erection making its presence known through his sweatpants.

Caught between surprise and pleasure, you reply, "Well, you're already doing it." The tension and curiosity in the air are palpable, and it seems as though the lines between dreams and reality are beginning to blur.

For a moment, Josh remains silent, considering your response. Finally, he nods slowly, his grip on your breasts tightening slightly as he begins to match the rhythm of your breathing.

“I guess you're right," Josh acknowledges, his hips swaying in gentle, almost needy thrusts against your backside. A faint smile plays on his lips as he adds, "I guess we are making new memories, aren't we?" His words carry a mix of humor and honesty, laced with the raw energy of their current situation.

As Josh continues to caress and knead your breasts, his eyes remain fixed on your profile, studying every subtle movement and reaction. He watches as you bite your lip, trying to maintain a sense of composure amidst the sensations washing over you. His own body trembles, the friction of his pants against your ass a constant reminder of his arousal.

The room is filled with the sounds of uneven breathing, the occasional gasp escaping from your parted lips, and the rustling of clothing.

Breathing heavily, Josh carefully shifts your body beneath him, aligning himself above you. His lips trace delicate paths along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine with each tender kiss and gentle nibble. Once his mouth reaches the curve of your shoulder, he pauses, seemingly entranced by the sight before him.

Without warning, he raises your shirt, revealing your breasts to his gaze. An audible gulp betrays his sudden appetite for the sight before him, and with a renewed vigor, he cradles one of your breasts in his mouth. His tongue darts out to trace around your nipple, while his hand continues to explore the other breast, alternating between gentle slaps and firm pulls.

Groaning loudly, Josh wraps his leg around your thigh, grinding his semi-wet bulge against you in earnest. He pauses briefly, his eyes locking with yours before you attempt to reach for his throbbing member. However, Josh stops you mid-reach, gripping your wrist firmly.

"No, no... I don't need that," he stammers, panting heavily. "I mean, I could literally come just by sucking on your tits. There's really no need for..." Before he can finish his sentence, you slip your fingers into his waistband, tugging playfully before releasing it.

A mischievous glint enters your eyes as you propose, "I have an idea. Do you trust me?"

Josh hesitates, looking around as if seeking guidance, but eventually surrenders to your suggestion. With a gentle push, you encourage him to sit up, spreading his legs apart and creating space between you.

"What are you...?" Josh questions, trailing off as you position your breasts around his shaft.

As you commence your rhythmic dance, Josh's body convulses uncontrollably, his groans growing louder and more desperate. Each sway of your breasts sends ripples of pleasure through his core, his eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.

You can hear the desperation in his voice as he repeats, "Oh my God," over and over again, his body bucking beneath yours.

Feeling the urgency in his responses, you decide to increase the pace, increasing the pressure with each movement. Josh's grip on your wrists tightens, his nails digging into your skin as his breathing becomes ragged. The room is filled with the sounds of his moans and the soft slapping noises created by your motions.

"Hachi ma—"

You cut him off abruptly, narrowing your eyes. "If you say that fucking word, I swear I'll punch you." Your stern tone leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shocked by your threat, Josh quickly backtracks, apologizing profusely.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please, don't stop. Can I just...keep going? Okay?" His eyes plead for forgiveness and permission to resume your intimacy.

Relenting, you nod your approval, resuming your titillating dance above him. This time, however, you arch your back ever so slightly, your lips reaching down to gently kiss and lick his tip.

A wave of pleasure washes over him as you expertly tease his most sensitive area. The combination of your movements and oral focus proves to be too much for Josh, causing his body to tremble uncontrollably.

Seemingly unable to resist any longer, Josh reaches a hand between your legs, his fingertips brushing against your slick entrance. He slides two digits inside you, finding your wetness and warmth a welcome surprise. Gently, he begins to stroke you in rhythm with your tit motions, matching your pace and intensity.

"Getting handsy without permission, huh?" You tease, a sly grin forming on your face.

Josh retorts defensively, "You tell me; you're the one sucking on my cock when I never asked you to."

Rolling your eyes, you counter, "I could stop if I wanted to."

“Doesn't look like you want to, though.”

Challenged, Josh smirks deviously, slowly and cautiously repositioning your head towards his engorged member. The tip grazes your lips, gently urging you to conform to his desires.

Despite your words, you can't help but comply, the connection between you feeling almost irresistible.

You continue to bob your head around his tip, your breasts maintaining their dance above him. At the same time, his fingers plunge in and out of you, eliciting involuntary noises of pleasure from your throat.

The room pulses with the sounds of your synchronized movements, the sweat glistening on both of your bodies. The sheets beneath you grow damp with the evidence of your passion, entwining you further into this intimate act.

Each thrust of his fingers, each brush of your breasts brings you both closer to the edge, the line between friendship and something more becoming increasingly blurred. The energy in the room is electric, a testament to the depth of emotion and desire consuming you both.

"Fuck, fuck!" Josh cries out, his voice shaking with the impending release. "Baby, I'm gonna cum!" He warns you, his words echoing through the room.

Surprised by his endearment, you pause for a brief moment. "Baby?" You question, your brows furrowed.

Embarrassed but eager to continue, Josh apologizes. "It slipped out, sorry, just...keep going." His embarrassment is tempered by his urgent need for satisfaction.

With a small nod, you resume your ministrations, your breasts continuing to sway above him while your head oscillates around his engorged member.

His fingers persist in their steady rhythm inside you, mirroring your movements above. The room vibrates with the intensity of your combined efforts, the air thick with the scent of arousal and unspoken emotions.

At this point, it seems inevitable that you're both hurtling toward a climax, drawn together by the pull of desire and the uncharted territory you've ventured into.

As embarrassment and uncertainty bubble beneath the surface, the bond between you only strengthens, driving you both closer to the brink of ecstasy. In this moment, there's no turning back – the force of your connection propels you forward, each sensation heightened by the others.

Your heart races in syncopation with your movements, and you can feel Josh's body tense. His fingers dig into your thighs, his hips thrusting harder against the motions of your breasts. The room pulses with the echoes of your moans and pleasurable gasps, each sound fueling your ascent to the peak.

As the final moments approach, your movements synchronize, culminating in simultaneous climaxes. Josh's grip on your body tightens, his groans mixing with your sighs as you both find relief in each other's arms. When the waves subside, he guides your head towards his fingers, still coated with your essence.

"Clean me up," he whispers, half-joking and half-serious. Obediently, you obey, licking his digits clean, savoring the taste of yourself mingled with Josh's masculine flavor.

With a content sigh, he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your body and cradling you against his chest. "Baby?!" he mimics your earlier protest, his grin wide and impish.

Defensive, you retort, "Hey! I was surprised."

Laughing heartily, Josh counters, "Yeah, but I'm not gonna say 'Oh bro, I'm gonna cum!' or 'Oh comrade, it appears I'm gonna bust a nut soon!'" His laughter fills the room, the tension dissipating with his humor.

"You are so annoying," you respond playfully, rolling your eyes as you snuggle into his embrace. Despite your irritation, you can't deny the warmth of his arms surrounding you, the comfort of his presence grounding you after such an intense encounter.

Hope you liked it 🫶🏻 I think i’m gonna write certain request really shortly like this one (it was shorter but i got carried away) and the last ones. So don’t be afraid to send more requests!

Also, if you haven’t check my masterlist! If you’re only here for the smut consider following @xxxcherryerim where i reblog my smut work!

As always, Thank you for reading!

— With love, xcherryerim 🍒

[dwtdog]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Karl's library in the rain

Karl's head aches when he steps out of the hidden room where he keeps his books, memories of entire worlds stuffed into his brain.

It takes him a moment to remember where he even is- L'manburg? El Rapids? Ruttabagaville? It certainly doesn't look like any of them. Too open, the buildings too grand. He feels at home though, a bit of warmth that sparks in his chest as he admires the buildings towering over him, the statue of a dragon atop a hill.

Kinoko, he thinks with a sigh of relief. It's empty as always, no other people wandering the paths, no windows lit with warm light against the cloudy sky. He's not sure who he expects to see- Kinoko has always been a lonely place.

A crack of thunder shakes the sky, and Karl retreats back into his library, content to settle on an old chair that someone- that he'd drug in at some point.

For a library, the walls are remarkably bare of books. There are a few stacks placed in corners, and Karl would worry about them rotting if he didn't know that every truly important book was tucked safely away in a room beneath him.

The wind howls outside. It's drafty in the library, with it's high ceilings and open layout, and Karl shivers as he pulls his cloak tighter around his shoulders. There's an ache in his chest, and he worries he might be getting a cold. If it's pulled from the past or the future, he's not sure he'll have the medicine to heal himself.

XD wouldn't let him die of a cold. Or, Karl thinks with a snort, maybe he'll lose his first life to it. Two more to go, then. He'll have to aim for something more adventurous for those two, like drowning in the shallow fountain down the street or falling out of a tree.

The rain begins in earnest, pelting down against the ground outside, silent as it hits the mushroom roof. Karl breathes in deep, taking in the smell of petrichor and books, and smiles. The only thing missing is a crackling fire to warm him, but it would hardly be safe to light one among all the books. Karl doesn't like fire.

Another crack of thunder, the lighting that precedes it casting eery shadows across the room. For a moment, Karl thinks he sees the silhouette of a winged figure, thrown against the wall opposite him. But it's gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he shakes his head- he's been awake too long.

The rain slowly lulls him to sleep, sprawled out in the old chair. His dreams are confusing as always, full of bright colors and faces he can never remember when he wakes- dark hair, dark eyes. Sorrow. Always so much sorrow.

He knows when he wakes, he'll be somewhere else. XD hardly lets him get a night of sleep before sending him off along the timeline.

Karl can never quite understand why he always comes back to this moment- the rain and the thunder and the wind. Nothing Karl does will be changed when he gets back, save for the books in the secret room. He's only reliving the same few hours over and over again in a lonely bit of time.

He feels the moment XD calls on him, the tugging at his mind and body. As always, there's a flash of light- more lighting? He never hears the accompanying thunder.

[ectonurites]

Now that we’re halfway through it what are your thoughts on Kon’s solo?

I've been enjoying it! I think it's been fun so far—I do think that letting Kon have a story where he's out on his own just doing a classic little adventure like this rather than... something super tethered to the greater DCU/its continuity messes is refreshing after the last few years he's had.

Like I definitely don't want him isolated from all his friends in space forever or anything like that, but I think him getting to do this on his own right now is cool. I think the thing Porter seems to be going for with Kon 'chasing after the glory days'/trying to find some shred of his old life to cling onto (even if it's just a space imitation of it) is definitely interesting and like... makes enough sense to me for him and where he's at after The Everything.

I just gave this 'how Kon has changed across the eras' post of mine from a while back (fall 2021, so written shortly after the whole Suicide Squad Match Ordeal™) a re-read and something I was talking about at the end was how after all the experiences he's had he has looped back around to embracing aspects of his old self (that he'd been pushing away for a long time because of 2000's-era Trauma And Angst) and I think this current book is definitely like, playing with that.

What I was talking about in that post ended mostly after YJ 2019 though—his state of mind at that point being more or less 'okay I'm back now let's goooooo!!!!!' before The Horrors of realizing he came back to a world that really had moved on without him for years really set in. Like, he knew about that by the end of YJ 2019, but I think he needed to sit on it for a bit and see it firsthand... also even though I know the book was a mess and not well received, I think we should still acknowledge Dark Crisis: Young Justice—where he got a firsthand taste of the olden 90's 'I hadn't died yet, I hadn't disappeared yet, I hadn't been replaced yet' days in Mickey's dream world. After experiencing that and getting some reality checks from the rest of the team, he knows he can't seriously just go back, you can't go back to the past like that... but...

The new understanding of himself he'd achieved just before/while stuck on Gemworld—where we saw he was making active choices about who he's gonna be based on what he wants rather than Clark-based expectations or anyone else's input, and where he was rolling with the changes and circumstances that had been thrown at him—has been thrown SERIOUSLY out of whack!

So rather than it being that 'he's returning to aspects of who he used to be while incorporating the experience and maturity he's gained along the way over the years' situation from YJ 2019, it's started warping into 'he's regressing back to the safety of being the Metropolis Kid/his 90's era self just out in space this time so TECHNICALLY it's DIFFERENT'. Which I think is an interesting approach! And him acting completely and totally in denial of that being what he's doing (even though it's clear he knows damn well it is) is also totally in line with classic Kon—thinking back to the Young Justice (1998) #7 camping trip LMAO.

But like, the thing is, Superboy: The Man of Tomorrow #1 started with an editor's note clarifying it takes place before Action Comics #1051 which began the new family-focused era of the book... that Kon is very obviously present for.

So we already know he's gonna figure out that there is a place for him back on earth and that he doesn't need to completely regress and try to relive his past somewhere else, he can just be himself and carve out his own path at home and have a place within the family. We're not stuck guessing about what Kon's fate is gonna be after the fact—instead, this book gets to focus on this journey he's going through and we're along for the ride to see how he's gonna finally reach that conclusion! Which is fun!

Anyways, that was a lot of word dumping—Kon just gets me going man, you know he always does—but in conclusion: I'm enjoying the book overall, it has definitely kept me as a Kon fan engaged, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes!

+ as much as ideologically I am opposed to DC Round Robin, I'm definitely (at this point anyways) glad that this book got to exist.

[amonsteronmaplestreet]

Hey, you like ebooks?

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[lmh8903]

Benny Rodriguez x Reader Pt. 11 LAST PART

Years had passed since that unforgettable summer evening at the Sandlot. The small, dusty field had seen countless games, friendships, and even a proposal. Now, it stood as a cherished landmark in our lives, where we returned whenever we needed to reconnect with our roots.

Benny and I were married the following spring in a small, intimate ceremony surrounded by our closest friends and family. It was a beautiful day filled with laughter, love, and the promise of a shared future. Benny's career in baseball continued to flourish, and I pursued my passions, finding fulfillment in writing and teaching, with the occasional baseball playing.

As the years went by, the Sandlot became more than just a memory. It became where we brought our children, teaching them the same values of friendship, teamwork, and love that we had learned on that sacred ground. Our son, Y/S/N, had inherited Benny's love for the game, and our daughter, Y/D/N, shared my passion for storytelling. Together, they brought new life to the Sandlot, their laughter and excitement echoing the sounds of our youth.

Ten Years Later

The Sandlot reunion had become an annual tradition. Every summer, we gathered to relive the glory days, play a game, and share stories of our lives. The boys, now men with their own families and careers, always made it a point to return. The bonds we had formed all those years ago remained unbroken, a testament to the power of true friendship.

As the sun set on another reunion, we sat around a bonfire, the flickering flames casting a warm glow on our faces. The children played nearby, their voices a joyful chorus that filled the night air. Benny sat beside me, his arm wrapped around my shoulders, our hearts full as we watched the next generation create their memories.

 Their laughter echoed across the field, blending with the distant memories of our voices.

"Look at them," Benny said, his arm around my shoulders. "They're just like us."

"Yeah," I replied, my heart swelling with love and nostalgia. "And they'll make their memories here, just like we did."

"Remember the time Ham brought out the chaw?" Squints said, chuckling as he poked at the fire with a stick. "That was one of the worst ideas ever."

Ham laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, we all learned a lesson that day. But it sure made for a good story."

"Speaking of stories," Yeah-Yeah chimed in, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "remember when Benny proposed? That was one of the best moments ever."

I smiled, my hand resting on Benny's knee. "It was perfect," I said, my voice filled with gratitude. "And it all started right here."

Timmy, who had become a successful coach, nodded in agreement. "The Sandlot gave us so much more than just a place to play. It gave us a family."

The conversation flowed easily, each of us sharing memories and updates on our lives. As the night wore on, the children began to drift off to sleep, their energy finally spent. Benny and I tucked the kids into their sleeping bags, their faces peaceful in the glow of the dying fire.

With the kids settled, Benny took my hand, leading me a short distance away from the group. The stars above were a brilliant tapestry, reminding us of the countless nights we had spent dreaming beneath them.

"Do you remember our first late night here?" Benny asked, his voice soft and filled with nostalgia.

"How could I forget?" I replied, squeezing his hand. "It was the night everything changed."

Benny smiled, his eyes reflecting the love and memories we shared. "I never imagined that moment would lead us to this—our family, our friends, and a lifetime of adventures."

"Neither did I," I admitted, leaning into him. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt a profound sense of contentment. The Sandlot had given us so much—a place to belong, friends who became family, and a love that had grown stronger with each passing year.

Benny kissed my forehead, his lips warm against my skin. 

With the stars above and the Sandlot beneath our feet, we knew that no matter where life took us, this place would always be our home. As we walked back to join our friends by the fire, the laughter and love that surrounded us was a reminder that the best stories are the ones we create together.

The Sandlot was more than just a field; it was the heart of our story, the foundation of our dreams, and the beginning of a new legacy. As the stars began to twinkle in the sky above, I knew that no matter where life took us, we would always have this place, and we would always have each other. And as long as we had each other, the adventure would never truly end. 

A/N: wellllllll....thats it guys! i hope you enjoyed this story bc i know i enjoyed writing it. thank you so much for reading it!!

[qwainte]

Some unimportant things that irk me about Astarion and his related stories

Despite being highborn, Astarion gets buried in the ground with some rinky dink tombstone, not inside a mausoleum.

Ascended!Astarion is able to inherent all of Cazador's assets with no push back, despite being a high ranking law official who was thought to be dead for 200 years.

Elves trance instead of sleep, which gives them the ability to relive memories in vivid detail, but they can choose to sleep if they want to. Why doesn't Astarion choose sleeping over this if going into reverie forces him to relive moments from his 200 years of torture? This could've been a cool character quirk -- having an elf that prefers to dream over trance.

Astarion never really laments about how being undead affects him as an elf. His reincarnation cycle is broken and his soul cannot enter the elven afterlife. Seems like a missed opportunity for conversations between him and the elf companions*.

Why no claws??

Why didn't any of the spawn examine each other's scars? Obviously, they still wouldn't be able to understand it but Astarion makes it seem like he never even glanced at his siblings' backs.

How was Astarion able to run away during his early years as a spawn under Cazador's compulsion?

Matter of fact, how did Dalyria bite Victoria if all the spawns were compelled to never drink blood from humanoids?

Victoria is a fresh corpse capable of speech but it's assumed she's been dead for a while.

Astarion has nothing to say about Victoria's body

Yousen and Violet have no cutscene presence at all

How did Cazador create 7000 spawn without doing the burial ritual? And if he did do it, how did he manage to do something like that in the comfort of his mansion without anyone noticing? Do the Tourmaline Depths have graveyard? Does the Szarr estate have a private graveyard that his main spawn never had access to?

When it's revealed Astarion helped kidnap the Gur children, no one in the party really comments on it. Astarion had only mentioned luring adults for Cazador to feed on. This reveal that he also stole children (and recently, too) should elicit some reaction from the other companions or the PC.

I just want to known the in-universe reason why Astarion's spawn siblings have glowing red eyes, black scleras, and shark teeth

Why is Pale Petras not pale???

Epilogue Spawn!Astarion is said to be an adventurer/hired killer but his attire doesn't reflect that. The doublet is a nice callback to EA but it doesn't fit his new life as a full time rogue.

[ria-777]

There is not enough letters in the alphabet for me to tell you how much I love you

B - Brave

"Be courageous."

"Do your best."

"Don't give up."

"Keep fighting."

"Succeed."

Those were words Pidge and the other paladin had grown to hear a lot ever since their perilous journey amongst the stars started. Of course they knew these people were right to tell them this and they all did their best to live up to those comments. In front of the inhabitants of the planets they saved. The leaders of said places.

Each other...

Often, the girl found she lacked the spirit to continue fighting without ever backing down.

It was so exhausting to do so.

Always standing straight, chin high up, determination in her eyes, fight in her heart... The list goes on.

Why wasn't she as valiant as the rest of her teammates? How did they do it?

She was terribly scared to admit how much fear she had locked up inside her chest. Losing her friends. Never finding her father and brother. Disappointing the people she cared so much for... the entire universe. Dying in an atrocious situation in action.

Shiro often told them that it was normal if they felt self-conscious from time to time. Their mission was hard after all. Lance and Hunk had spoken up on a few occasions, but her...

Someone always managed to lift their spirits up, hell, sometimes she was the one to do so and yet, her hands were still trembling while theirs were clenched in determination.

It wasn't a secret to anyone, whoever stole a glance her way could tell she was young. They all were, but her even more. So what would she do if people called her too childish to save them, deemed she wasn't fit to be a paladin anymore, that it would be better if someone more mature replaced her?

She once woke up in sweats after dreaming they went back to earth, only to leave without her. It worried her more than she was willing to admit.

So Pidge fought hard and did her best to appear fearless, just like Keith was, never backing down in front of the enemy.

However, after today's mission, where they all almost died, the girl honestly just wanted to nestle in her mother's arms and sob until she fell asleep. She wanted her dad to whisper in her ears how great she was, how bright her future was, full of discoveries and wonderful adventures. She wanted to sit on the couch in their living room and play video games with Matt, Bae Bae cuddles at their feet until their fingers cramped.

She wanted her family.

She just wished someone was there to comfort her in a calming and protective embrace. Someone to tell her she had it in her.

*******

Pidge never understood this, how could she possibly be so tired and at the same time, unable to fall asleep?

She had to go do something else to distract herself rather than mindlessly staring at her ceiling, reliving today's events.

What she didn't expect to find on her quest toward a pastime was Keith, sitting on the observation deck, looking as emotionally and physically defeated as she did. She should leave him alone and head somewhere else. He liked his peace the same way she appreciated hers.

Pidge had no idea what pushed her to slowly walk toward him. Exhaustion perhaps.

Who knows.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" She saw how her voice startled him, he was usually constantly aware of his surroundings, much to Lance's deception since this meant he could never jumpscare the red paladin. Keith cleared his throat. "Yeah, if you really want to." She whispered a small thanks and settled next to him without further words.

They could have sat there for vargas, doboshes, ticks staring at the stars without uttering a thing. She liked their silence, they were never awkward. They both didn't care anyway, this was the most relaxed they had been in a while.

"Why are you up?" said Keith, surprising the girl, she hadn't expected him to talk at all. She knew it would be fine with him if she wanted to keep this private, but it would be rude if she didn't answer him after she interrupted his alone time. "I'm just doubting myself a bit, I guess. Being a paladin of Voltron can be very difficult most of the time. And today was..." She didn't have to finish her sentence, he nodded in agreement, understanding her unsaid words.

"Yeah, happens to me all the time. Today was hard, and even saying this is an understatement." She hesitated before speaking, she was really tired, thoughts kept escaping her mouth without her permission. "I wish I was as strong as you and the others, especially you, though. I have no idea how you do this."

Keith didn't waste a second before tearing his eyes away from the mesmerizing scenery in front of them that was now so normal to them to grab her shoulder, turning her toward him. His eyes were wide as they observed her. "You're kidding, Pidge, you do so much for all of us! Without you, I'm sure we would have the opportunity to die on so many different occasions and our lions would be way less functional! You're incredibly brave, fighting an intergalactic while on the quest for your family. You always work so hard, acting as the team's brain more times than we can count. I should be the one wanting to be like you, not the opposite."

"You think I'm brave?" His eyes softened at the tone of her voice, it was probably the first time he had heard it sound like that. "Of course I do."

They smiled at each other for a while until Pidge saw Keith's face turned red, why would he look like he was blushing? Oh. She could swear their body had gotten closer since he had grabbed her.

This was so embarrassing!

And yet, both didn't move, staying near each other, faces flushed. Pidge blamed her half-awake mind for what she did next.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, hesitating to rest her head on his shoulder when he froze for a moment until his own limbs circled her waist, making the distance disappear between them

Over the sound of their rapid beating heart, she spoke. "I think you're brave too."

That night, a light lit up in their brain and both finally understood what was that feeling in their hearts when they were around each other.

(Posted on ao3 ans Wattpad)

[frazzledsoul]

I almost don't want to give the Palladinos credit here, but I half think that there was something going on offscreen with Jess around episodes 5 and 6 of Season 5 of Gilmore Girls. Episode 5 is the wretched double date episode where Luke and Dean fight, and Episode 6 is the one where Lorelai finds out that Sherry left Gigi with her worthless father and Rory seeks out Christopher and tells him to stay away from Lorelai before he screws up her life again.

I believe Jess is only mentioned in these two episodes. In the double date episode, Luke is ranting about how Dean is not good for Rory (Lorelai's response is that "their problems were mutual" and Luke "doesn't know the whole story" which is funny because those additional details would definitely not endear Luke to the guy) and Lorelai asks if she should date Jess instead (Paris AND Marty are right there, Lorelai. Just sayin').

In episode 6, Luke and Lorelai bicker over the porch light being broken and Lorelai says the last person to change it was Dean and again argues on his behalf because Jess never bothered to change the light.

At this point in the story, Rory is still dating Dean and realizing the only thing they have in common is misplaced nostalgia and is trying to corner Logan to get the lowdown on the Life and Death Brigade. Rory has her adventure with the LDB the next episode and Dean dumps her the episode after that when he sees her partying with Logan and his friends. She's in the process of moving on with her life and leaving Dean behind.

So what was going on with Jess? I figure the final rejection by Rory probably gave him the push he needed to write the book, end his mediocre "messenger" career, probably get his GED, and move to Philadelphia to start his new life (and of course, begin the Slutty Philadelphia Jess era). Obviously that doesn't happen all at once, so I figure he probably wasn't ready to move until at least the spring/fall, but things had likely begun to progress by this point and Luke probably knew he was planning to move and had mentioned it to Lorelai...who is still dubious, still pushing for Dean over Jess, still trying to rationalize Rory's affair even as the incident seems to have moved her further back into the past, not the future (and likely trying to be supportive so that Rory doesn't push her away again, because she now knows Rory can and will stop talking to her and will bring up Lorelai's own mistakes if she feels she's being too judgmental).

Meanwhile, Jess is actually moving forward offscreen instead of trying to relive his high school years. Would have been nice to see some of that.

Milo was unavailable during this time, as he was a season regular on NBC's American Dreams. They had a shortened season, but networks aren't always amenable to lending out their actors to the competition (the only other season Milo doesn't pop in as a guest star after he left the show is season 7, when he again was a regular on another NBC show). I don't think this was necessarily planned ahead of time, but the backstory works nicely for what was going on with Jess at the time.