#its like seeing someone eat cookies and then remembering 'oh i have cookies too. i also should go eat them i kinda want cookies now'

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

anyone else ever have this random fear of being accused of copying other people unintentionally? like

>be me >see another artist post something cool >"ooh funky i had a really similar idea once!" >get inspired to possibly draw something >"wait but what if their fans or they themselves notice and think i copied their idea and start drama (;;;*_*)" >end up not doing anything

[luv-lock]

⸻ ᴅ ᴇ ʟ ɪ ᴄ ɪ ᴏ ᴜ ꜱ ⸻

Pairing: Laios Touden x Fem Reader

Headcanon: How would he be when he's obsessed?

Notes: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

The first time Laios saw you, he swore you were something out of a myth.

“You’re amazing!” he had blurted after you single-handedly took down a particularly pesky scorpion-beast. “That throw, the precision! Have you always been this skilled?”

You’d laughed, shrugging off his admiration, but it was already too late. Laios was hooked.

It started small. The way his eyes lit up every time you spoke about your favorite foods. He’d lean in, listening intently, like your words held the secrets of the universe. You figured he was just being polite—until you caught him scribbling something in his journal.

“Laios, what are you writing?” you’d asked, trying to peek over his shoulder.

“Oh, nothing!” he said, slamming the book shut, his grin wide and suspiciously sheepish. “Just notes about the dungeon! Very important research!”

You thought nothing of it—until the next day, when Laios presented you with a dish made entirely out of dungeon monsters.

“I remembered you said you liked stews,” he explained, practically bouncing on his heels. “So I made this! It’s manticore tail with some wild dungeon herbs. Don’t worry, it’s safe! I taste-tested it three times!”

You blinked at the bowl he shoved into your hands. The stew smelled... surprisingly good. Hesitantly, you took a bite, and your eyes widened.

“This is amazing, Laios!”

And that was the moment. That was when you unknowingly sealed your fate.

He always made sure you had the best portion of whatever monster they managed to cook. "You need to try this! The texture is so unique—perfect for someone with your refined palate," he’d say, sliding a perfectly roasted slice of basilisk tail onto your plate with almost childlike eagerness.

Or how he’d insist on walking beside you, his gaze flicking to your face every few moments as though trying to memorize every shift in your expression. "Did you see that? Your eyes lit up when you looked at the cave crystals," he once noted, his tone as soft as the warm glow of the dungeon lamps.

“Are you hungry?” he’d ask, far too frequently. You weren’t sure why he’d stare at you so intently whenever you answered. He had a way of watching you eat that bordered on unnerving—eyes wide, as if every bite you took held profound meaning.

When you laughed, he smiled so widely it was almost painful to look at, his cheeks flushed with delight. “Your laugh,” he once said, utterly sincere, “reminds me of the soft whistle of steam escaping a pot of stew right before it’s done.”

That was Laios for you. Always comparing you to food.

"Are you cold?" he asked one evening, already shrugging off his cloak to drape it over your shoulders. “Here, take this. You need it more than I do.”

You tried to protest, but he shook his head. "No, no, I insist! If you got sick, I’d—" His voice faltered, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “I’d never forgive myself.”

At first, it was easy to dismiss it as harmless admiration. Laios loved everything—food, dungeons, and his companions. But then it started to feel... heavier.

One day you find out that he’d carved a tiny figurine of you out of monster bone. "It’s not creepy, I swear!" he exclaimed when you stared at it in shock. "I just thought your likeness would look amazing in bone. Look at the detail on the hair!"

At some point, it started becoming... stranger. You woke up one morning to find him crouched near your bedroll, carefully observing your face. When you jolted awake, he beamed at you like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “Oh, sorry! I just... you look so peaceful when you sleep. Like a dragon curled around its treasure.”

He wasn’t even trying to be creepy—he just meant it. That was the worst part.

Then there were the meals he tailored specifically to your tastes—so specific that you wondered how he knew what you craved before you did. "I noticed how you wrinkled your nose at the slime pudding last week, so I’ve been experimenting with a recipe that’s more palatable for you," he explained, his smile as bright as the dungeon’s glowing moss.

And the lengths he went to for you... they started to escalate. A particularly rare flower monster once tried to entangle you with its thorny vines, and Laios lost his usual jovial composure. His sword swung with ferocity, his face a mask of rage. When the creature was finally reduced to a pile of pulp, he turned to you, breathless. “Are you hurt? It touched you—I saw it touch you.”

You assured him you were fine, but he was already rummaging through the remains of the creature, muttering something about using its petals to brew a protective potion for you.

“I can’t stand the idea of anything harming you,” he said softly, not looking at you. “You’re... too important.”

It wasn’t just his actions; it was the way he spoke to you, the way he talked about you when he thought you weren’t listening.

“She’s incredible,” you overheard him say to Marcille one evening as they prepared camp. “She’s so strong, and clever, and kind. Did you see the way she handled that mimic today? I—I just can’t imagine this party without her.”

Marcille sighed, clearly used to his ramblings. “Yes, Laios. She’s great. But you might want to ease up a little. You’re... intense.”

“Intense?” Laios frowned, as if the idea had never occurred to him. “I just want her to feel appreciated! She deserves that. She deserves everything.”

And yet, despite the obsessive edge, Laios’s affection was oddly pure. He didn’t stalk you through the dungeon or try to isolate you from the others—though you sometimes caught him watching you with a dreamy, faraway look, as if he were already imagining the next meal he’d cook for you.

And yet, there was something unsettling in his devotion. It wasn’t malicious, but it was overwhelming. Laios had always been insatiable when it came to things he loved—monster cuisine, dungeon exploration, rare artifacts. Now, that insatiable hunger was directed at you.

His obsession was his way of showing love: an all-consuming desire to protect you, to make you smile, to ensure you were never hungry, never in danger. It wasn’t the dark, suffocating kind of obsession that trapped you. It was... Laios.

"I wonder," he mused one evening as the fire crackled between the party, "if there’s a way to preserve this moment forever. You, here, with me... It’s perfect."

For all his warmth and cheer, there was an intensity in his words that made you shiver.

And somehow, that made it all the harder to resist.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[freezebobs]

DBFZ Yamcha and Ten cookies...done!!!

Soo I've been on a mission to recreate the Yamcha and Ten cookies from dragon ball fighterz because they're adorable...and they're finally real!! :'D process and info below! (kind of long lol)

I saw someone share these screencaps from the game a while ago and as someone who never played DBFZ I was so charmed at how cute these things are. I wondered if anyone had ever made cookie cutters for them, did a quick search and didn't really find anything, so just kind of moved on.

A few months later I remembered them again and was like, man, I really would love to see these brought to life lol. And I searched again and actually found someone who made them!!... But they weren't selling them anymore. 😭💔

^Reddit post from user ShadowLord898.

So in the next few days I went into the DBFZ game files, figured out how to navigate them and locate/open the proprietary file types (took...a lot of googling), and eventually found the cookie textures!!! Which I then painstakingly traced over to create vectors.

I thought once I had the vectors, it would be easy to drop them into a 3D program and extrude them to make the cookie cutters. BOY WAS I WRONG!!! It's probably just my inexperience working with vectors in 3D programs, but I tried Blender, Fusion 360, and Tinkercad and had problems in each one before finally figuring out the right approach. (I really almost gave up 🤧 but I hadn't realized that your geometry/topology don't need to be perfect when 3D modeling for print as opposed to, like, something you plan to create a texture for.)

Tinkercad and its extremely user friendly interface, plus SVG import functionality, saved me.

Oh then I realized I forgot to reverse the design, which you have to do for a cookie cutter because of how they work. I thought I would need to flip all the vectors and re-import them, recreate the models... but thankfully there's a "flip" button in Tinkercad. Fixed.

I sent the files over to my friend @.theprocrastinatingengineer on Instagram, who has a 3D printing service, and he was able to print them out for me!

While I was waiting for them to ship I downloaded Cura ("slicer" program for preparing 3D files for print) just for fun. (I was really eager...)

And here's when I finally got them!!!

Despite choosing all the dimensions carefully, I was still surprised how dainty they were when I actually held them in my hand. I wasn't sure if they would work...

So I made the dough and everything, used some 5mm thick chopsticks as guides to roll out the dough to the thickness I wanted. I put plastic wrap over the dough to prevent the cutters from directly touching the dough due to food safety concerns. Here is my first attempt to use them:

After this my mindset quickly shifted from caring about food safety to "what's a little more plastic in my system?" / "I'm here for a good time, not a long time!!" / "welll the dough gets baked anyway so that kills the germs it should be fiiine" **I Do Not recommend others to be so careless... also important note: I was the only one eating these so I didn't have to worry about others' safety 🥴

^The difference between using the cutters with and without the plastic wrap.

This first rolling out of the dough was actually a little too thick; in my design I hadn't accounted for the way the dough squishes up when you press the cutter into it. There wasn't enough vertical space at all, and the dough kept getting stuck in the cutter. It was a bad time!!! (didn't get a lot of photos of the failures here because my hands were covered in flour)

After lots of broken cookie cutouts, re-flouring the surface/cutters/rolling pin, and re-rolling the dough to be a bit thinner, I managed to get these out. I had to support Ten's head like a newborn when moving the dough onto the cookie sheet because the connection to the body was so delicate 😢

AND HERE THEY ARE...fully baked and ready 🥹

For the most part I was going to leave them undecorated like how they are in the game. But @.lamichicuenta made this really cute drawing of the cookies where Yamcha had chocolate decorations and Ten was a salty cracker, and I really wanted to try decorating some to resemble those!! Here are the photos of both versions of the cookies the next day once I was able to get some natural light for nicer pics.

(I meant to poke some holes in Ten's cookie to look more like a cracker but I forgot about it until they were already baking.)

They tasted fine...yamcha was better thanks to the chocolate. 🤭

If you read all this, thank you for following my cookie cutter journey... 😌🙏💖

Oh yeah and I made the vectors, 3D print files, and specs/info all available in a google drive folder here for anyone to use if they want! https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1hQ7uq3leYPK64pGgt3LhFw-70IZnkYzh?usp=drive_link

OH and one last thing, i ended up revising the 3D models to hopefully fix the issue of not enough vertical space. ...turns out I hit the maximum for photos and videos in this post, but you can see it on my twitter here! https://twitter.com/freezebobs/status/1875720926840680678

I didn't get to try these revised models, but they are the ones I put in the drive folder. 😊👍

[snowfieldstories]

In Life and Death (Chapter -1)

Kim Dokja x Reader (original female character)

In Life and Death Masterlist

A/N: Welcome back! I've tweaked the original details of the 95th main scenario to fit my romance needs. Apologies if that bothers you.

UPDATE!! This chapter was too long so I cut the first scene and added it to the previous chapter. I recommend going back and reading it because it has important information!

Warnings: canon-typical violence, some language. and smut, kind of. heavily, heavily implied smut

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel within a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right ending to the one and only, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

Episode I. Chapter -1: Beginnings

In fact, I did lie when I said I wouldn't interfere.

It wasn't registered as a lie, since I hadn't remembered it myself. There was someone I wanted to save. Someone I could save, for the first time.

"Choi Yeona! Where are you, you omniscient pig?"

Jung Heewon sped around the corner so quickly that I had nowhere to hide. I put up my hands in weak defense.

"Heewon." I smiled.

"Don't 'Heewon' me," she growled. "I know it was you."

"I'm not sure what you mean." Heewon advanced on me, so I changed tactics. "Okay maybe it was me. But! But I got you something better."

"Better than my cookies?" She looked ready to throttle me. A bit deserved, I suppose.

I picked up the plastic sack that had fallen when she arrived and placed two items in her hands. A large pack of chocolate cookies and a slightly battered can.

"A bigger size to replace what I may or may not have eaten." She shot me a dirty look. "And canned strawberry cake."

Heewon inspected the can. "I didn't know there was such a thing as canned cake."

"It's all yours. Swear on my life."

"How did you find these, anyway?" she asked.

"I was wandering the streets, feeling the crushing guilt of eating the last of my dearest friend's sweets—" Heewon snorted at that "—so I clasped my hands together and prayed, begged, pleaded to find anything that would make things right. Then I opened my eyes and found a convenience store with an unbroken cargo box."

There was a silence before the roar of laughter. Heewon broke into the fresh pack of cookies and offered me one.

"Sometimes, I can't tell if you're all-knowing or the luckiest woman alive," she said.

"You should hide your things better. The back of a closet, really? Cliché," I clacked my tongue, evading her previous statement.

"...Yeah, I hate that you know everything."

I squished her cheeks briefly. "I love you very much, too."

"Hmph."

She let the whole thing slide more easily than I had expected. And Jung Heewon could hold a serious grudge (unfortunately, I knew from personal experience). But Heewon, like Sooyoung, Hyunsung, and the others, must have sensed my agitation of late. The other day, Namwoon dragged in what resembled a mutated deer, like a puppy eager to show its master the bird it caught. "See, angel noona, look at this, we can eat venison tonight! Maybe you can get the monster to grill it."

I knew the group members were used to my calm ("Freaky omniscience, go!" as Jihye would stage whisper before a fight) so my turbulent energy must be putting them well on edge.

The 95th main scenario was upon us. I was growing more antsy by the day as a certain event approached.

"Did Sooyoung leave already?" I asked lightly.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, I think she took off last night." Heewon fidgeted with a knife on the edge of the can. "Jihye said that monster-guy is nearby, though, so you better hang around. No one else can get through to him if he attacks us."

I nodded. It was near time, anyways.

“Tomorrow I’ll scout the south side. Can you take the west?" I asked. Recently, Joonghyuk's activity had veered south, and I preferred to station myself in between him and the base. For their sake and his own.

Heewon agreed and after settling on a few more details of the rotation, I left her to tackle the cake can.

The next afternoon, I was dodging a stampede of elephant-like monsters among the Seoul buildings.

[The exclusive skill, 'Sacred Light' has been activated!]

I swung a rope of light and caught the ankle of another incarnation, sweeping him out of the way before he was crushed underfoot. "Thanks," he gasped, but I was already moving on to the next.

My golden lasso was inspired by Sangah's Olympic strings of the next turn. I was a bit ashamed of copying her (the anticipation of shame, rather, for when I met her again). But my 'Sacred Light' was good for more than just rope. I could wield a number of different weapons with it, and tricky past scenarios had led me to discovering more practical uses.

An elephant crashed into the side of a tower, sending a shower of concrete chunks my way. I tossed up a light barrier and ran. A shadow grew on me, and I had a fraction of a second to dive to the side before my shield—and body—shattered.

I sat up slowly, wheezing, as the dust cleared. In my place was a massive slab of concrete. Surviving that...could it count as luck?

"Mother, what's my luck meter?" I rasped.

[The constellation 'Mother of Divine Desire' opens your checking account.]

[Incarnation 'Choi Yeona's' balance: 1476/2500 luck]

[Recent activity: Concrete slab ... +80 luck. Expand to continue account history?]

I closed out the windows with a weary nod. Now that I had grasped the concept of my exclusive skill, 'Bank of Lady Fortune,' my sponsor never bothered to send update notices unless asked.

I brushed my clothes and continued on my route. The last of the elephants had moved on and the screams of incarnations began to weaken. I sent a message through the comms link for Lee Seolhwa's medical response team to make a sweep of this quadrant.

The streets were quiet. Unnervingly so. There were traces of a fight but I had yet to see any bodies, only scorch marks on buildings and slashes of power and sword. Up ahead was a clearing.

"Son of a bitch! You have to let me talk to you!"

I hurried to find a battlefield; bloodied constellation bodies littered the ground. The cry came from the two lone figures who stood above them all.

Yoo Joonghyuk held a neck with two fingers while his other fist sucker punched the gut of a man in white.

My heart tripped on itself, and I whispered, "Kim Dokja."

There was a flurry of black and white as the two opponents clashed. For a moment, they paused long enough that I could see clearly the long, white coat-covered back facing me. Their swords raised to strike.

I shouted as loud as I could, "Joonghyuk! He is not your enemy."

He hesitated.

His reactions were irregular of late, now more than ever as his mind sunk deeper into a regression depression. It was fortunate he paused, because Dokja turned at the sound of my voice. And froze.

But now was not the time. I pointed at the advancing man. "Joonghyuk!"

They continued to fight but Dokja began speaking; Joonghyuk's movements were becoming sluggish. It must have been their conversation from the book. Dokja would soon learn who his target was for Secretive Plotter's sub-scenario. I didn't move closer, in part because I was in awe of the strength of their abilities, and partly because I knew this wasn't my fight.

There was something I was forgetting about this moment, but I'd have to reread it later. The battle had stalled. Dokja reached for Joonghyuk's shoulder and spoke to him with a serious expression. I was too far away to hear.

At last, Joonghyuk's sword clattered on the ground and Dokja turned to me.

I was afraid, so afraid, to read into his expression. I feared I would find confusion at my presence, irritation that I'd endangered his fight. Or, worse, indifference. I took in a sharp breath and waved. "Hi."

Admittedly, there were times when I was an idiot. Hi? Hi??

While I cringed at myself, I failed to notice the blur of white that sped forth until it was practically on top of me. Two arms wrapped around my frame and a head settled in the crook of my neck. A hot breath fanned my skin, and lips that brushed—"Yeona."

Kim Dokja smelled of the crack of lightning and something fresh. Who the hell smells fresh in the middle of an apocalypse? I thought. I drew back a fraction, just enough to see his face. Relief. Wonder. Happiness. Dokja was happy to see me.

"So casual? We must be close," I teased. My heart thumped fiercely at the proximity. He could probably feel it.

"Incredibly."

I could hardly tear my gaze away. "Kim Dokja."

It was almost unbelievable that he was in my arms right now. After so, so long, he was here, warm and real. Alive. And he knew me—no, more than that, he seemed to care for me.

"Then, I must be alive in your world-turn?" I spoke.

Dokja's smile is ever so soft. "Very much so."

"I'm glad to know for certain that I regress properly," I said. "It makes the wait more than worth it."

His hands cupped my cheeks. "You really waited? After all this time?"

My heart was about to spit up something incredibly nerdy and sappy, along the lines of "always" or "for you," but my brain was quicker. "Someone had to take care of this mess for when you arrived."

Dokja's head tilted forwards as he laughed. It sounded crazy to say that his eyes sparkled but, oh, did they. Stars upon stars filled his gaze, like the universe had decided to make a nest there. It wasn't entirely human; but for a constellation, it was only right to hold this beauty.

I carded my fingers through his wind-ragged hair. On accident, my nails scratched light against his scalp and Dokja's starry eyes came into sharp focus.

"Forgive me," Dokja murmured.

And then his lips were on mine.

Hands caressed my jaw and the back of my neck as he kissed me deeply. I tugged on the locks of hair between my fingers, and the sound that left his body had my mouth opening in a gasp. I felt the first touch of something hot and wet, when he broke away suddenly.

Oh my.

I had a mind to ask what the ever-loving fuck (when I could find my mind, of course. It ran off the moment I was kissed stupid) but Dokja spun around. His stance blocked me. "Yoo Joonghyuk."

Ah, right. They weren't alone.

"He's a big boy. I'm sure he can handle seeing a bit of kissing," I said, sullen.

Dokja ignored me and went to the broken regressor. I followed. "Yoo Joonghyuk." No response. "It's like in Ways of Survival," I heard him say to himself.

"Um." I was sorry to burst his bubble. "Not exactly. The 1863rd turn as you know it was altered. And not because of me."

Footsteps hurried towards us. Heewon, a sword in each hand aimed at Dokja and Joonghyuk respectively, looked to me in question.

"Okay...that one was because of me."

"Yeona, who is this?" said Heewon. She eyed Dokja's coat suspiciously.

"He's a friend." My lips still burned. "From a different world regression. We need to speak to Sooyoung when she returns."

"Han Sooyoung?" said Dokja with an understanding dawning. The pieces in his mind were fitting together, and he had the good sense not to voice them aloud.

Heewon paused before lowering the sword pointed at Dokja. Her eyes darted between us. At his protective hand held out in front of me. "I see."

I did not like the grin that took over her face. Her thoughts practically screamed at me. I was only grateful to have another person with the sense not to share those thoughts aloud.

Joonghyuk slumped over as though he might fall at any second.

"Heewon," I snapped and ran to help steady him with a supporting arm. "He won't hurt anyone right now."

She slowly sheathed the other sword. There was a thunderous sound in the distance; they needed to leave before the elephants returned. I urged Joonghyuk forwards with a glance at them. "Let's head back. You two clear a path and we'll follow."

Dokja moved and winced. I called him over, finally noticing the stab wound on his side.

[The exclusive skill, 'Sacred Light' has been activated!]

My glowing hand hovered over the wound. "It isn't healed but the pain should lessen."

It also sped up the recovery time. He would still need the infirmary for stitches. I used the skill on Joonghyuk as well and caught Dokja lingering even as I focused on "healing." He had shuffled back to Heewon by the time I finished up. I offered the hand to her.

"I'm good." She shook her head.

It didn't take more than an hour to return. Every so often, Joonghyuk would stumble from a lack of awareness and Dokja would look back, sword tight in his grip. I used a few golden arrows of light to pick off the beasts that slipped past.

When the stronghold was within sight, I peeked at Dokja's reaction. He seemed spellbound, like a kid discovering that candy stores were real for the first time.

We headed in. I led Joonghyuk up the main staircase while Dokja paused by the infirmary. Lee Seolhwa emerged with a stretcher, and they exchanged words, but I continued up. There was a well-hidden storeroom off to the side, unexpectedly cosy with a couch, table and chairs, and several odd lamps perched precariously on crates of broken star relics. I set Joonghyuk down on the couch. Only my close companions of the original novel knew of this place. No one would bother us here.

The door opened and Dokja entered. Heewon poked in her head from behind, waggled her eyebrows at me, then she slammed it shut. Annoying. 

I used 'Sacred Light' to trace a golden ring on the crown of Joonghyuk's head. It was how I signaled to my companions that his presence meant no harm. After, I kept my hand there, smoothing down the dark curls that had knotted during the fight.

"Joonghyuk, stay here, alright? Don't hurt anyone. And rest."

The hand that caressed Joonghyuk's head was snatched off and I turned to find Dokja much closer than before. There was a wild edge to his expression. He leaned in, nose brushing mine, and our breaths mixed.

"Yeona, I want—" He sounded almost desperate. Before rationality left me again, I shoved him away.

"Kim Dokja." Dokja, wide-eyed and uncertain, was at a loss for words. My laugh sounded breathless to my own ears. "You really are the devil, Demon King of Salvation."

With one last check on Joonghyuk, I took Dokja's hand, fingers intertwined, and led him out the hall and up staircases. Briefly, we passed a startled Kim Namwoon. "Angel-noona?" he called out to our retreating backs. We rounded the last corner where my room was in sight.

Dokja stopped in his tracks. "Shit."

I watched, concerned, as Dokja plucked a red cosmo and white lily from his coat pocket and set them carefully on a high windowsill. My body went hot and cold all at once. "Um, is that...?"

[The constellation 'Lily Blooming in Aquarius' is looking at you.] [The constellation 'Commander of the Red Cosmos' is looking at you.]

"Yes," he said with a grimace.

[What the ■ck. You could have remembered we were here a lot sooner, Demon King of Salvation. Or perhaps Demon King of Salacity is more appropriate.]

The Archangel Gabriel's true voice was scalding.

[I guess we should be ever so grateful not to bear witness any further. Truly an appalling display. Young ■ing constellations and incarnations these days, really.]

The Archangel Jophiel was blessedly quiet.

[I shouldn't be surprised, child of Divine Desire. You, too, live up to your sinful name—!]

Dokja whisked me down the hall before any more of Gabriel's rambling could continue. "Sorry about that."

My cheeks burned. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting to get scolded by an archangel today."

"I forgot they were in there."

I ushered him inside my room, thankful to have not left any piles of clothes or weapons on the floor. When the door closed, I found that Dokja had hardly taken more than a few steps into the room. Neither of us spoke for a moment. We merely looked at each other.

"If you think about it, they could have spoken up sooner. Maybe," I said, slowly approaching him, "they wanted to see something. Maybe they were hoping to."

I was a hand's breadth away from Dokja. His thumb brushed the scar across my forehead.

I leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the collarbone exposed from his shirt. He stilled. I took my time, trailing kisses up his neck.

"Is this really okay?" he said. There was that uncertainty again. Even as his hands slipped under my top to grip my waist. Even as he shuddered and sighed at my lips on his pulse. How could a man be so needy, yet cautious, all at once?

"Dokja." I used the collar of his shirt to bring his face to mine directly. "Please, just shut your mouth."

Then I did it for him with my own.

Unlike the last one, these kisses started out sweet and slow. We kissed as long-separated lovers do. Which, perhaps in a fantastical, twisted way, we are.

"The channel," he said in between kisses that grew longer, harder. "Should we ask them...shut it off?"

I pulled back to take in a few gulps of air. "You and I are both leaving this world soon. Let them watch."

It was like shattering a dam. Dokja descended in what could only be described as hunger. Every rough touch, a clash of tongues, skin bitten and bruised, every whimper from the man below me, told this story.

Somehow we ended up on the bed, and the clothes on the floor, and I couldn't really say beyond that because each of my senses were filled with Kim Dokja.

At last, he pressed in as close as two can be and, in that moment, I foolishly begged anyone listening to my thoughts that my greatest desire would come true.

I was amazed at how natural things felt with Kim Dokja, because I hadn't ever actually spent real time with him. Much of my time in this 1863rd turn was spent poring over Omniscient Reader so that I had a secure knowledge of the future and its inhabitants. Rereading it so often helped me feel closer to Dokja; I read the novel like it was a memoir, and it I didn't think it was delusional to call it that because the book's narrative had become truth. Dokja mostly treated Ways of Survival as fiction, but for me it was fact. I could no longer think of these people as characters after years spent in this world.

Dokja's fingers twisted lazily in my hair. There was a pleasant ache in my body. No, certainly not characters.

"You know, your eyes truly sparkle. Probably because you're a constellation now," I said, tracing the shape of astronomic constellations I could remember on the damp skin of Dokja's chest.

I felt the rumble as he laughed. "So you've said."

"I really am the same person in the next round, aren't I?" It was meant to be in jest, but he tensed beneath me.

Dokja was quiet. "Seeing you here, as you are before you reach the next turn, is—" He swallowed, and a finger stroked my cheek. "I cause you so much pain, Yeona."

"We probably cause each other quite a bit of pain," I said simply while tilting to face him better.

Dokja shook his head, lost in thought. "I'm much too selfish."

I pulled him in for a deep, long kiss. "Don't forget sacrificial," I said with a gentle smile.

There were several loud knocks on the door. It was a welcome intrusion, because Dokja's expression was making me uneasy.

"Yes?"

"Unnie! Don't worry I'm not gonna—oh, God—I'm not gonna come in. Because that would be horribly awkward. And disturbing. But Sooyoung is back, and you know how she is, she'll probably get impatient and come to you—"

"Got it," I said loudly. I didn't question how she knew; Heewon had been a little too excited earlier. I thought we might have more time, given Dokja had arrived at the stronghold sooner than was written. But not everything could happen perfectly from the novel.

I slipped from the sheets and picked up a bundle of clothes. At the sight of Dokja's smirk, I hurled the clothes at his face. "Get dressed."

He held up pants and his coat. "You want me to go out in only these? Well, I don't mind being shirtless," he said.

"Don't be a princess." I picked up his black button down and slipped my arms through it. "If you do, I could always leave in just this."

Dokja sat up, rigid, and tugged me in by the waist. "No."

"It's only fair." I patted his cheek as he sulked like a child.

The "child" in question wrapped his arms around me and stuck his face in my stomach. There was a muffled, "you win."

Pleased, I lifted his face up and pecked his lips.

In no time, we were (appropriately) dressed and stepping out. I was surprised to find Jihye still waiting.

”This ahjussi…?”

Jihye gave Dokja the sort of once-over only a haughty teenager could give. Result: unimpressed. She glanced at me and balked. I tried smoothing down my hair more. There was no mirror in my room.

"You know, unnie, I really thought it would be you and your tamed monster. But I'm happy for you." Then she flounced away.

Dokja's grip was tight in my hand. I turned to him, horrified. "No. No."

His frown only deepened. "You are rather gentle with him. And I know I don't exist here, so it makes sense...I mean, there's no reason you wouldn't...I shouldn't have assumed."

"We have never," I said with vehemence, "ever, been like that. I care for him, of course, but in this turn he's lost everyone. There's no one else left to care for him but me. That doesn't mean it's romantic."

You fool, I wouldn't have just slept with you if that were the case. I pulled him into an embrace and felt his head drop down on mine.

His sigh tickled my hair; his words, warm on my ear, said, "Good. Whether it's this life or the next, I have no intention of sharing you with that bastard."

I scoffed. "Your closest companion, you mean."

"Whatever," he muttered. We headed for Sooyoung's office.

'I know I don't exist here.' I wasn't sure if I should tell him that he once did.

Honestly, I couldn't even understand how it was possible. Kim Dokja wasn't supposed to exist in any other worldline—I don't see how my transmigration could have affected that. My suspicion was rooted in the memories I recovered of my month at Minosoft. We interacted often. But never once did Dokja utter the words "Ways of Survival" or "web novels." I never even caught him reading on his phone. I suspected he wasn't really Kim Dokja, or, at least, the Kim Dokja as he is known in Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint.

I still loved him regardless. (I've since come to realize that I would love Kim Dokja in any world and universe, in any existence.)

I knocked on the office door and heard a shout to enter. The door shut behind us and Sooyoung looked up. Her mouth dropped open. "Holy shit."

My brows furrowed, but I gestured beside me. "This is Kim Dokja."

"So, this is who you've been waiting for." Sooyoung circled him. She stopped with a flat expression. "I don't see it."

I held back a groan. "I don't remember asking for you or Jihye's opinion on the matter."

"Jihye has taste," said Sooyoung while picking at her fingernails.

"If you're finished discussing my looks," said Dokja. "We have more urgent matters."

Sooyoung studied the white coat and Unbroken Faith sword that mirrored her own. She picked up her sword and approached Dokja again. "Yes, it seems we do."

He was wary and I felt the first crackles of status leak from him. I placed a hand on his arm. "Don't bother. This is a Non-aggression Zone."

"Exactly. Choi Yeona, you may go," said Sooyoung. Dokja frowned and opened his mouth.

"No, she's right," I said, squeezing his arm. "There's somewhere I need to be. By the way, Sooyoung, remember what we discussed."

Sooyoung pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Fine. Now go on."

I made for the exit when I heard a jingle.

"Wait, Yeona." Sooyoung tossed me a set of keys. "Go to my room and get yourself a turtleneck. Please."

It took a moment for her words to register. I slapped a palm against my neck in alarm. By the look on Sooyoung's face, it wasn't near enough to cover whatever marks were left there.

Dokja carefully avoided my nasty glare. Then the corner of his mouth twitched.

"You—!" This man reeked of satisfaction. I hurled mental curses and threats his way as I stalked out of the room.

In no time, I was changing into a white turtleneck from Sooyoung's closet. I didn't own any, but hers was soft and fit me like a warm hug. I liked it. In fact, I had never seen her wear it before. I wondered if I could keep it.

She kept a mirror at her desk, and when I had caught my reflection, I groaned. Mottled red and purple marks painted either side of my neck and tender, raised bites littered my collarbones. Even now with the high neck to cover them, one little red patch peeked out.

'Sacred Light' should fade them quickly. No chance was I letting anyone from medical see them, even Lee Seolhwa.

I took the elevator back down to the main floor and sought out the hidden storeroom. Joonghyuk still sat in silence. But rather than looking as if he were drowning in his own mind, Joonghyuk had an alert, yet resigned, expression. The halo's glow was the only light, as the sun had nearly faded. I flipped on a few lamps.

"I'll bring you some food. You're probably starved, right? Ah, or you could join us in the dining hall..."

"No."

I nodded, having expected it. "I can find you a spare room so you can sleep here tonight."

"This one is fine."

Joonghyuk finally met my gaze. I knew, without a word from him, that he was grateful. I smiled. "I'll be back."

I gathered the food, water, a few extra chocolates, and some large blankets in a bag. I also slipped in a small note. After dropping them off, I let him be. I was hungry myself and he was not in the headspace for company, anyways.

Dokja would soon join us for dinner; Sooyoung only ever ate in her office. I raised my hand in greeting when I spotted my companions at our usual table.

My mind lingered on the image of the lone regressor eating in a lamplit storage room.

That night, Dokja climbed into bed next to me. I toyed with the side buttons on my phone. "I've been writing."

"To gain the 'Avatar' skill?"

"Oh," I said with a frown. "No, but that's a good idea. I've been writing my story of surviving in this world. I want to write our story of the next turn, too."

Dokja looked serene as he tucked a lock of my hair behind one ear. "I'd like to read them both."

"I'm not really a skilled writer." I tried not to let my embarrassment show. "And the story of this turn is more of a journal, of sorts, anyhow. The next turn is the real story."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is it now?"

"It's of us. Everyone loves a great love story."

He pressed his lips to my temple. "That story is going right up there next to Ways of Survival."

I gave him a playful shove. "Liar."

Dojka merely smiled and lifted my hand to kiss my fingertips. "When will you regress?"

I hesitated. I had a way, but I wasn't sure if it was the best option. More than that, I was conflicted about leaving everyone behind. I loved my companions in the 1863rd dearly; we had fought and bled and lived side by side through so much now. I wasn't ready to leave them yet.

Plus, there was that one teensy little problem I had.

"I'm not sure," I said at last. He nodded like it was expected. And, well, for him—it probably was.

I set my phone aside and nestled against Dokja. He clicked off the lamp and tugged me closer. I thought of tomorrow and the trials we would have to face in the coming days. My body twisted until I faced him.

The moonlight cast shadows across his face. I kissed him, and said, "I wish you could stay." Of course, Kim Dokja, you could never remain here. I knew this.

In response, he pulled me back in. "Know that I love you, Yeona," he murmured against my lips.

Though I was sure of my feelings, as sure as the sky housed the stars and the moon rose at dusk, I didn't say it back. I didn't need to. For now, our love was dissonant, an illogical overlapping of time and worldlines. 

I settled back in my spot. His last words echoed throughout my mind. In a sudden sickness, I had the terrible sense that something was different between us in the next turn. I pressed my forehead against his chest to will the feeling away.

But my dreams were restless.

Next part ->

A/N: What do you get when you have a pining and love-starved Choi Yeona + a selfish and guilty-in-love Kim Dokja? The escapades of Chapter -1!

This was getting way too long so the rest will be grouped in with Chapter 0 [Interlude].

[how-to-humaning-401]

hey chat watch me throw this lil thing i came up with at you about this stupid cookie that i hate /silly

the stupid

hoh boy this is a lot more words than i thought it would be hopefully you guys can read /j

so i clear my throat and crack my neck and crack my knuckles this stupid vampire cookie here we all know him the local drunk lazy cookie mhmm mhmm

well i pick him up and squish him this stupid guy is the one that ive thought the most about how he would work with the way cookies are and to start off

we have this thing i scribbled together

adding on a little more to what i wrote there i feel like with food, he can eat it, but its literally not necessary for him to do so, which is why he has grape juice so often, also after all this time hes probably built up a somewhat decent alcohol tolerance which is why hes STUPID all the time /silly

now about this thing that i thunk up about him that ties up to the grape juice in the jam

stupid early in the am doodle BUT to inform those of you that (along with sparkling cookie) do not know what the absolute flying fuck vampire cookie just said

to put it basically thrombocytopenia is a blood condition where someone has too little platelets (the things that make blood clots n help to not bleed out) in their blood, basically having thin blood, which in my brain is the same as like jam but thinning it down with grape juice (that makes sense right) cant believe im putting actual research into making stupid headcanons for a stupid cookie

ANYWAYS

getting onto a different point thats not entirely about blood/jam

is him being a vampire yknow, he should get to do vampire things bc thats cool

but also along the lines of being a vampire make me think "oh vampires are usually portrayed as being super strong and super fast yeah you know powerful like that" but at the same time vampire cookie is a lazy lil bitch

which brings up the thought in my stupid brain "if vampire cookie can be this strong while hes this lazy... what could he be like when locking the fuck in..." and considering he was in the meta at one point id say thats pretty strong (idk where else to go with that thought except for "he has potential to be a strong cookie" [obviously not on like a beast or legendary or wtv level but you get it])

also i remember seeing an interpretation of vampires where having a blood substitute rather than the human stuff like makes them not as strong so maybe that could be at play here

cough anyways about more vampire stuff (and probably an obvious one to mention) THE SUN is a deadly laser

since we can clearly see him out and about no matter the time of day i think its safe to say that the sunlight definitley doesnt kill him, if anything i think at the most itd make him eepy sleepy (which could be why hes just chilling out 9 times outta 10, and/or hes just lazy like that)

also with the sun i feel like hed just not like hot weather in general it probably doesnt feel good for him, but at the same time going back to the thin blood thing that also makes him get cold easier, so this stupid cookie needs the perfect temperature to thrive /j (watch him go through an aussie summer and immediately crumble/j)

i mean i guess ill finish this off with my stupid thing in the notes app at 3am

anywho i do a lil bow thank you for coming to my ted talk

[sterekbros]

the promise of more (2422 words) by Winchesterek Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale, Lydia Martin Additional Tags: New Year's Eve, First Kiss, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Everyone Is Alive, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, New Year's Kiss For Events: @sterekfests 'kiss me at midnight', @sterekbingo fuzzy socks (Christmas), @sterekweekly reindeer

Summary: “You should save some for the others.” Stiles turned to see a handsome guy standing there and thankfully he was holding his second cookie or it might just have fallen out of his mouth as he stared at him. His tone was light and teasing, so Stiles knew that he didn't mean it. “I, uh—sorry?” Stiles replied, looking at the table filled with treats and then back at the man. “Did you bring any? I’ll make sure not to eat those.” The guy laughed, it reaching his eyes which had Stiles almost melting right on the spot.

Stiles thought Lydia was crazy, and not her normal crazy, but like weird crazy because she had invited him to a fuzzy sock holiday party at her place, which meant that everyone who came would have to wear fuzzy socks. Not only was it a party, but it was also a slumber party. Stiles couldn't remember the last time he’d been to a slumber party. Probably before he was ten and it was likely with Scott for his birthday party.

So going to an adult slumber party, with alcohol, fuzzy socks, and probably the possibility of hooking up was something completely new to Stiles. It wasn't like he was into public sex or any type of orgy situation. He was a very private kinda guy when it came to that. Voyeurism was not his thing, which meant he’d need four walls and a door at least to hook up at this party.

Then again, the lakehouse had plenty of space and rooms, so maybe he would find someone. It wasn't too far out of the ballpark.

Stiles sighed and checked his phone, looking at the GPS, trying to figure out the easiest way to get to the lakehouse without having to go through too much ice and snow along the way. His Jeep was a little on the old side, and he needed new tires, so it wasn't the safest thing to drive in this weather. It did its job though and he loved his Jeep, especially because it was his mom's.

He reached out to turn the knob on the heater and blasted it because the Jeep was drafty and started his route to the lakehouse. If the lake was frozen over and Lydia wanted to ice skate, Stiles was going to have to tell her no, since drowning was one of his biggest fears. He tried not to think about that as he drove, thumping his fingers on the steering wheel, and humming along to Christmas songs playing from his phone.

By the time he made it to the lakehouse, there were cars parked everywhere, more than Stiles realized there would be. So this was a larger party than he’d originally thought. That only made him more nervous. He sighed and parked his Jeep in a place that looked like it wouldn't get trapped if he decided to bail on this party, and killed the engine.

Stiles ran his hands over his face, took a deep break, and pulled his sweater hood over his head before hopping out of the Jeep. The door clanged behind him as he closed it and Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets, starting up the walk. Thankfully, he didn't slip and fall on his face.

It was a miracle.

Stiles reached the door, knocked, then waited. He could hear music on the other side and muffled voices. When the door opened, a tall brunette greeted him with an excited, “Hi! Oh. Come in, come in. Lydia is doing what Lydia does. Entertaining the best of us.”

Her tone was sarcastic and Stiles thought he could really get to know this girl. “I’m Laura,” she added with a grin, her lips as red as sin. “You are?”

“Uh—I’m Stiles.” He smiled and offered her his hand, which she shook awkwardly. Okay, so maybe he was the one that was being awkward.

“I have my fuzzy socks,” he added, lifting the leg of his sweats to show her his entrance fee. They were covered in penguins because Stiles secretly loved penguins. And frogs. Not that he’d ever tell anyone something like that.

“Great!” Laura nodded and shut the door behind Stiles, then motioned with her head toward a table at the far end of the room. “Eggnog is over there, along with a few cookies and sweets that people pitched in.” She frowned. “Don't eat the brownies. I think those are spiked… you know, with—” She made a face, but then again, it was illegal in most places still.

The last thing he needed to do was to test hot if his dad decided to check him. “Got it. No brownies.” He gave her a thumbs up and she walked off, leaving him standing there awkwardly with a bunch of people chatting around him in groups. They’d paired off and gathered up, Christmas music playing in the background, and Stiles didn't know where to start. So, he headed over to the eggnog table.

Stiles grabbed a cup and served himself, sipped it, and winced. Whoever made it had gone hard with the liquor. He had to pace himself, otherwise he’d be so drunk that he’d never remember the night. And that would be a bad thing. He hadn't done that since he was in high school.

He fished a few reindeer cookies from the table and shoved one into his mouth when a voice from behind him said, “You should save some for the others.”

Stiles turned to see a handsome guy standing there and thankfully he was holding his second cookie or it might just have fallen out of his mouth as he stared at him. His tone was light and teasing, so Stiles knew that he didn't mean it.

“I, uh—sorry?” Stiles replied, looking at the table filled with treats and then back at the man. “Did you bring any? I’ll make sure not to eat those.”

The guy laughed, it reaching his eyes which had Stiles almost melting right on the spot. “No, I didn't. My sister brought some of that brittle stuff, but we came for the fuzzy sock party. I wasn't exactly expecting this to be an actual party.”

“Oh, yeah—same. I thought it was going to be a small get-together, not an actual Lydia party.” Stiles chewed his cookie and smiled, meeting the guy's eyes. “I’m Stiles.” He offered his hand.

“Right. Right. I’m Derek,” he replied, taking Stiles’ hand and shaking it. Stiles held on for a little too long and Derek’s gaze dropped to Stiles’ hand before Stiles released it.

“Sorry. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Derek. I’m assuming you’re not from around here.” Because Stiles would've recognized him around town. Beacon Hills wasn't that big.

Derek chuckled. “I’m from Beacon County, but yeah, we don't live in Beacon Hills. We’re actually here because my other sister was invited by one of Lydia’s friends. So we’re a plus two, technically.”

Stiles glanced around the room, wondering who Derek’s sisters were. When his gaze returned to Derek, he frowned. “Oh, the girl from the door. Laura? Is that one of your sisters?”

“Yeah, she’s my twin.” Derek grinned. “She’s fifteen minutes older than me, which she’ll never let me forget.”

Stiles laughed, a belly of a laugh. “Ah, nice. I don't have any siblings, so that must be fun.” He laughed again, his eyes roaming over Derek. “I can tell that she’s fun.”

“More like a pain,” Derek replied with his own chuckle. “But we make it work. I know I couldn't live without her, even if she gets on my nerves the only way a fifteen-minute older sister can do.”

Stiles finished his second cookie and wiped his hand on his pants, then reached up to touch his neck, which he noticed Derek tracked his fingers. It gave him a shiver that tingled all the way down to his toes.

“Um, are you single?” Stiles ventured, darlingly. He didn't usually ask questions like that, but Derek was hot and Stiles was interested. And if he said no then he never had to see him again, right?

Derek looked confused and curious at the same time. “Yes,” he finally answered with a nod. “I am single. I don't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I, uh—I’ve been mostly focused on school, so dating hasn't really been on my mind. I haven't had a girlfriend since high school, and that was what you’d expect of being in love in high school.”

“Short-lived?” Stiles asked, laughing nervously.

“Pretty much.” Derek sipped his eggnog and then disposed of the cup in a trashcan near the table. “So, Stiles. Are you single?”

Stiles felt his stomach twist with nerves and his breath catch. Derek was asking him if he was single. He wasn't sure why it made him feel this nervous, because the obvious answer was hell yes he was single. Maybe it was because it looked like Derek’s gaze held a promise that Stiles could only hope for.

“I—uh, I—yeah, 100% single.” Stiles’ stomach only twisted more and his heart thundered in his chest. “But I’m into guys and girls, I’m just not as slick as you dropping it in there that you didn't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend.”

“So you caught that,” Derek smirked. “What can I say? I think you’re attractive and I’d like to get to know you more. Plus, we’ve got a while until it’s midnight and we’re watching the ball drop on TV in New York’s Time Square, right?”

“I’m pretty perceptive.” Stiles grinned and finished off his eggnog, tossing his cup into the trash with Derek’s. “So, should we find somewhere to sit and talk a little more?”

“Yeah, I think we can make that happen.” Derek looked around and Stiles followed his gaze.

Stiles saw Lydia across the room and she must have felt him watching her because she turned and waved at him, then gave him a thumbs-up. Her eyebrows arched and she gave Stiles one of those knowing smirks, like she knew that he’d find Derek and hit it off with him. Like she’d set up the whole thing. He wouldn't be surprised if she somehow masterminded it with Derek’s little sister.

He really needed to thank her later if they hit it off.

“What about over there?” Stiles asked and pointed to a small couch by the window. No one was likely sitting there because it was cold by the window with this weather.

“Looks like a great place,” Derek agreed and motioned with his hand for Stiles to walk in front of him. Stiles smiled and nodded, leading Derek over to the loveseat. Once they were there, Stiles plopped down ungracefully and shivered. He could feel the chill from outside through the window.

“Here,” Derek said, handing Stiles a blanket. He must’ve grabbed it on the way over, because he didn't remember the throw blanket on the couch when they got there. He tried not to think about how thoughtful that was and it was even a little romantic.

“Thanks.” Stiles took the blanket and laid it over himself as Derek sat down next to him, not too far from Stiles, within inches.

“So, tell me all about you. I want to know everything.” Derek sounded sincere as his gaze stayed locked with Stiles’, his smile soft and genuine, giving Stiles all of his attention.

It made Stiles nervous and excited at the same time. So he took a deep breath and started at the beginning. They talked about their childhood, both serious and funny memories. There were even a few embarrassing ones in there that Stiles was surprised they shared.

Talking to Derek seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Stiles had never felt this way with anyone and he could tell that Derek was there with him. There was an instant connection that neither of them could seem to pull away from.

Stiles wanted more. Needed more. And from what he could tell, Derek felt the same.

Suddenly the lights dimmed around them and Stiles looked up to see a disco ball shine in the center of the room. Of course Lydia would.

“Uh, well, I guess I didn't realize how much time had passed while we were talking,” Stiles started, looking back to Derek where the light from the disco ball shimmered around him.

Derek chuckled and scooted toward Stiles, closing the little space that was between them. “Well I don't want to seem presumptuous, but I was hoping for a midnight kiss.”

Stiles blushed and he knew that his skin would be blotchy red all over. He was thankful Derek wouldn't be able to see it in the dark, but he smiled and it made his chest flutter. “Me too,” he replied as people started counting down around them.

There was cheering and hoots and chatter, presumable for whatever the guests were watching for the countdown, which was taking forever. It was the longest ten seconds of Stiles’ life, but then there was confetti popping around them and people cheering and kissing.

Stiles licked his lips and his gaze locked with Derek’s. Derek didn't say anything. He reached forward, cupping Stiles’ cheek gently in one hand and smoothing his thumb against his skin. Stiles’ breath caught in his chest and then Derek was leaning forward and their lips were pressing together, tentative yet sure.

Derek’s lips were soft as Stiles returned the kiss, exploring as their tongues tangled together. He breathed deeply, Derek’s scent warming him all over as he felt Derek’s hand slide to the back of his neck and gripped him. Stiles was practically in Derek’s lap when they stopped, both of them breathing heavily in the scat space between their lips.

“Wow,” Stiles said with a smile that hurt his cheeks, resting his forehead against Derek’s.

Derek chuckled in a way that was too smug but also did things to Stiles. He wanted to kiss that smirk right off of Derek’s lips.

“I’m right there with you,” Derek replied, his voice quiet in the noise around them, almost like they were sharing secrets.

“Kiss me again?” Stiles asked, his nerves turning to exhilaration at the promise of more. Derek pressed in, brushing his nose against Stiles’, and kissed him again, deeper this time. And Stiles was lost to it, letting it take him over and fill all the places he needed Derek to be. It was like Derek soothed his soul and grounded him in a way that Stiles couldn't explain, but he knew that he never wanted to let this go.

When they paused, trying to catch their breaths, Derek said, “Can I get your number?”

Stiles barked a happy laugh and gave Derek a quick kiss. “Absolutely. We’re doing this again but on a date. And yes that is me officially asking you out.”

Derek beamed, the light reaching his eyes in the darkness. “Whatever you want, whenever you want. I’ll be there.”

Stiles knew that was a promise Derek would keep.

[sidipopsicle]

Heart On Your Sleeves

A short romantic Parfait Cookie x Currant Cream Cookie fic! I gotta sing my Currfait gospel somehow ♡

Pairing: Parfait Cookie/Currant Cream Cookie

Summary: The cute punk fashionista from next door visits the sandwich shop Parfait works at once again! But is this time different, somehow..?

As Parfait Cookie works the front counter of Sandwich Cookie's sandwich shop, a ring resounds from the bell on the front door.

Waking Parfait from her slow-day stupor, she finds herself in front of the nearby up-and-coming fashion designer, Currant Cream Cookie. Most of this cookie's visits are quite pleasant, yet Parfait always notices how quick she is to enter, and quick she is to leave--a bit of an absent-minded busybody in the hustle and bustle of city life. Parfait straightens up, ready to greet another of her fine regulars on such a nice, warm spring day.

"Hi there! What can i get for you, miss?"

"Hello...oh! I saw you working here the other day!"

Parfait smiles and giggles politely. Seeing someone recognize her is very comforting to hear from the regulars of this shop in particular. Usually the customers that come back tend to be friendly, and despite Currant Cream Cookie's punky demeanor, her silly smile defies the dark and dangerous colors she dons.

"Ah, yes! I remember you very well! Umm.....your sandwich last time was.......the Jellymeat Sammy with extra Fresh Greens, yeah?"

"Wow!"

Currant Cream Cookie's eyes widen in surprise.

"Yeah, totally! Its so cool that you remember something that specific!"

"Ahaha, don't mention it. I'm not usually great at remembering things like this, but you live so nearby, umm, that i just thought i should be mindful! Does that make sense?

"Ooh yeah! Definitely makes sense."

Both cookies nod at eachother, happy to have formed a sort of mutual understanding of one another, even if its mainly about the eating habits of a random neighbor....a brief bout of anxious silence runs its course as Currant Cream Cookie has her usual order rung up on the register and swiftly paid for. Her boots clack on the floor as she shifts her weight a bit, somehow...giddy?

"Well, I could probably go sit down now," Currant Cream notes, leaning over and sitting her elbows on the counter as she peers closer, "buuuut while the store is empty, i have something ive GOT to say."

Parfait Cookie's heartbeat quickens a bit with worry. Is this punk rock fashionista upset about something? Is there something on Parfait's face? Is it something else..?

"Your shirt."

"Aah..? Under the apron?"

"Mhm. The rock band shirt."

Currant Cream shifts so she's leaning over the counter cutely with a sudden spring in her demeanor, palms flat on the countertop, her eyes inexplicably shining with a sort of inspired glee that Parfait feels like she understands the feeling of.

"You should come to my shop after work!!!"

"-Eh? Wuhh???!"

"Hehehe~ You heard me!"

Parfait stands shocked, a little confused. What about her shirt prompted this all of a sudden?

"W-what for?"

"Look."

Currant Cream reaches her hand past the counter and pulls ever so gently on Parfait's short sleeve. Parfait Cookie, surprised and with her cheeks flushing pink, briefly stands there like a little deer in headlights. As she gathers her composure and peers down at the sleeve, she notices the fabric is completely torn at the seams. Darn, and to think she believed she got dressed today with no problems...her fave shirt too...

"I could fix that up quick later, free of charge. You need only walk into my studio and say hi. Sounds good?"

Parfait nods, giving a humble smile.

"Punky!! See you later then sammich lady!"

And with that, the cute punk fashionista skips very merrily right out the front doors of whence she came, the same bell from before signifying her exit.

Parfait stands stupefied. Something about that dual-toned hair and sharp fang in her grin was charismatic like no other today...and the way her shoes clacked against the shop's tile as she hopped off, it echoed a bit off the walls and right into Parfait's eardrums, reminding her of a song idea she has yet to piece to fruition. But right as Parfait is imagining a tune or a melody.....

"ORDER UP!!! ONE JELLYMEAT SAMMY WITH EXTRA FRESH GREENS!"

Oh!

Oh, crumbs...

Currant Cream Cookie forgot about her sandwich??!

[noisymutantherelol]

Overlords x child!dragonreader TW:cursing, blood,weapons,OOC,Camilla almost having a heart attack

(ps.you have toothless personality) You were just wandering looking around looking at the blood,organs spilled by random ass people, you were walking but not paying attention to where your going until you bumped into someone in particular,"ew that looks gross- oFf-",you stumbled back hitting the ground,rubbing the back of your head you look up to see Zestial

"Oh Shit I am so sorry- uhm sir"

"ah its all right." Zestial looked around before asking.

"Where are your parents?,dear child?" He asked looking at you while you got up "oh me? I don't have any...."

"Hm...",he was just looking at you scanning every inch of your body wondering someone as young as you could end in place as cruel as hell,he held out his hand saying to you," Here my child I may be thee Overlord but I am not always so cruel, now would you like to come with me dear?",You were hesitant, your heart skipping a beat,but you have nowhere else to go so...,"sure", you reached your hand out to his smooth hand,you continued to walk with him felling peoples eyes on you, it felt like a bunch of spiders crawling on you, making you uncomfortable and well before you knew it you were at Carmillas company (?),"My dear child,I would like to introduce you thee Carmilla carmine,my dear friend",you simply nod while follow him to Her office, she welcomed him but then her eyes fell on you scanning your small figure before then saying,"Zestial,who is this you brought with you?"

Zestial looked at you forgotten to ask for your name,"Oh dear where are my manners?, dear what is your name?" he asked while looking at you.

"Y/n", you muttered out,looking at the ground

"And Zestial why did you bring them here?"

"To be looked after of course", he said with a shit-eating grin

"By you right?", Carmilla said while pointing at him,while his grin grows wider,"By the me AND the rest of the Overlords,I simply want to see if they can handle the pressure,that's all dear...."

Carmilla face palmed remembering the last experiment that he pulled off,"Zestial are you sure?"

"Yes I am,now do you know where I can find Rosie?"

HEADCANONS START NOW

Rosie🌑🌹

-When she first laid eyes on you you looked adorable too her she wanted to give you a lil'makeover To match the timeline of her town

-She would give you stuff that wasn't human flesh,such as cookies but gave you to much and your chasing Susan around the plaza,she snickered a bit then went to chasing you before you started flying. She told Zestial to never give you too much cookies.

-she would teach you manners,and how to be a nice woman,and cook simple foods and how it's fine to be LGTBQ+

-She also learned to never leave you unsupervised while using the stove,almost burnt the whole place :0

-Overall the most things she likes about you, She LOVES it when you call her "Aunt Rose", anyone else who calls her that will die,well besides Alastor,if he says it as a little tease,and you both like drawing and colouring with eachother

A scenario in my KFC brain

Y/n:Aunt Rosie,look! look! *shows a drawn picture of you and her"

Rosie:*on the bridge of tears* Awww *wipes a tear* it looks amazing

-she guards it with all her life

Zeezi (I had to make a personality for her)

-When she first saw you she was like,e fuck-",then Zestial explains everything and then she was like,"*sigh* there's no getting out of this huh?" And Zestial is just like "Not in the 7 rings of hell-, anyways good luck!"

-She turned on her tv in the living room and put on a show that was usauly watched by imp children, while looking for a actually healthy snack,but found nothing,"Alright kiddo we'r-" she stopped talking as soon as she saw you Laying on her couch sleeping in peace she turned off the tv and brought a blanket and put it over you

-She told one of her minions to watch you and make sure your ok while she went to the store to get food for you

Pt.2 coming wait ya'll

[iguessitsjustme]

Deep Night Ep 1 Thoughts

I tried to start watching this about two hours ago but then my sister called and then I had to run to the store for some pain meds. They really should invent a me without a headache. Anyway I got my meds, a cake, and about a million beverages so I guess it’s time to start. Episode 1: Headache Nation under the cut because boy oh boy did I ramble

Oh this is only 8 episodes? I thought it was 12. This works for me. I do love a good solid 8 episode long show.

*eats pickle* damn they got aerial boys. More of this everywhere please?

Already obsessed with the music. Do you know what gets me every time? Strings. Just listen to the build up they do. Ughsjsjskdjwkd I love string instruments

WHO sings this opening??? I am OBSESSED with their voice. 

Oh to be a beautiful lady in a skintight bodysuit doing aerial tricks by a giant window in a very yellow room. I might be in love with her. I don’t care if she ends up being evil or something. I love her. 

I know its not exactly the same but every time I hear host club I think of them:

Boy take the cookie! Free cookie! I wish I was a hot boy in a BL that was being offered homemade baked desserts. I just remembered I bought a cake. I must pause to go get a slice or I won’t be able to forgive my man for this:

Do I see…a ql character…with glasses???? Gonna need to add this boy to my spreadsheet. Anyway he better keep them. No one spoil me. 

Wait I have the opportunity to do something very funny. To me and to only me. I also bought a bottle of sparkling cider. The best non alcoholic beverage. So I’m gonna drink this straight from the bottle while these boys are stuck getting drunk with actual alcohol at this club. Okay note to self. In the future, open the sparkling cider over the sink. Why are you more adept at opening champagne?

Ooohhhh rivals. Academic rivals. All these business statistics are too much for me. But I’m intrigued. I actually think these two would make good business partners. Perhaps. Could be wrong.

I should probably start learning names. So far all I know is Japan. And also that he’s my favorite. *eats chip*

The music is trying to tell me things are serious but I don’t care enough yet for things to be this serious.

Oh a grandiose staircase. I want a grandiose moment on those stairs. But I want to be wearing sweats and be as unserious as possible. Those stairs have obviously seen far too many serious moments. Those stairs need to see some whimsy. 

I do not think I like Khem. At least not yet. I like Japan and Khem’s mother. I bet Khem will grow on me. But right now he kind of irks me. 

Did Khem show up to this club in a cardigan??? Are cardigans fine at clubs? Where can I find that cardigan I want it.

I am OBSESSED with Khem’s necklace. I am not a big jewelry person but this necklace is absolutely working for me. I mean look at it! The way it rests on his clavicle (I think thats what it is don't look at me) but it draws your eye down to his chest where the shirt under his cardigan is hiding his body but the unbuttoned top button of the cardigan is wanting to show more. Maybe cardigans ARE club attire. But only with that necklace and only on this boy. 

Why does this woman want Khem to live with her? I hope the show helps her remove the stick up her ass. Though I’m not sure the actress can pull off the stern character she’s portraying. It makes me take her a little less seriously and I don’t know if that’s intentional or not. 

Ah I see some fantasies ARE universal. Someone remind me when I’m done watching to reblog gifs of this kiss. Also want to point out how much I love the music in this scene. The whole thing absolutely and incredibly gorgeous. Actually obsessed. Stunning. Everything stunning.

I would like to give Japan a hug actually. 

I’m in love with Khem’s mother. Outta my way gay boy I’m about to become your step parent. 

Me vs. street noise. Who wins? The answer is street noise. Every time. Not even hiding in my hoodie helps.

The GUFFAW that came from me when they show Khem as a valet? Oh they say traffic assistant. I am in LOVE with his mother. 

Either these shows need to stop showing me food or I’m gonna need to make a trip to Thailand because that looks so good. 

These sound effects are SENDING me.

Damn right boy. Get paid. Get that bread. I love him. 

A LAPSIT? In the very first episode? More likely than you’d think. 

This soundtrack reminds me of the Life is Strange soundtrack at times and that is my favorite game soundtrack of all time. 

Okay episode 1 done. I really enjoyed it despite all of the interruptions I dealt with. Time for episode 2! I do not know if I’ll watch more than the first 2 episodes today but I am very excited to keep going. 

[iamgrape]

Gluttonous Love♡lust 2

Warning: this content have Cannibalism being mention.

Previous || chapter Two || Next

You wonder why your being serve a meal by a cannibal. A very delicious meal fit for a rich human. Or at least some fancy ass restaurant.

"Y-your not going to pull a Hanibal Lector on me are you!?" You try to use your fork as a weapon as he happily eat his own meal in front of you.

"Oh... Is that the famous cannibal person base on the movie? Do you meant the brain part? Ahaha~ I don't eat people who still wants to live." He chomp on his meal as he says this.

"Rinne give me a list of people who died or want to end their life before their time. Willing victim makes me less guilty for humanity." He look at his meal as if thinking about something.

"If I weren't born this way, I could try helping them out. But sadly their own demise is what feeds a gluttony like me...." There's a hopeless smile on his face.

"Anyway you should eat that till it's warm~ don't worry there's no human meat in it~ the good stuff is for me~" he become a happy.

"... Y-you sure there aren't any human meat there...? " You poke the food, you do think the food looks very appetizing as ever!

" Ahaha~ of course! I'm not that bad to serve you, something that will be wasted if you throw it up." He went to grab the juice pitcher and pour your cup some weird blend, like galaxy like sparkling juice.

"it's made of blue turnips, lemon, edible glitter for presentation." He seems to notice your gaze.

" There's chocolate cookies and lava cake stuffed with overloaded of chocolate. " He put the freshly bake desert right beside your plate.

"....I..." You normally don't eat human food as you don't need too.

But damn, the scent is tempting you and a demon, your prone to temptation. You soon took a bite of the cookies and the flavor of chocolate explode in your mouth.

You start to put your guard down and eat the other meal he serve. Smiling as you taste the new dish and nomming the next.

"Uwaaaahh! It's so good! Servant! I want you to be my chief!" You can't help but says with your in your happy mood, like a young lil devil who have their first candy.

"Ahaha~ Chief? Ok~ I'm willing to cook for you, master!" He seems quite happy to see someone enjoy the food he made. As so far, he only made meal for himself. His unable to share his creation as he fear his own nature will get the best of him. But seeing you enjoying it. Maybe its not so bad to have Rinne find him a roomie after being a hassle to his life for hundred of years.

"Shiina Niki." He introduced himself. "What's your name sis?"

"Sis? Gasp how dare you define my gender! :/" You muffle as you stuff your mouth with cookies. "I'm the great MC! I will become the lord one day! So you better remember it servant!"

"Ahaha~ ok~ MC~" your sort of weird but he too is a strange one. But as Niki thought of that. The smile on his face won't leave. His really happy today, to meet you.

Hopefully you two get along or else he have to result to eating you so you won't tell any authority about the crime he did against the idealogy of humans.

[sleepyivoryrose]

Well, time for a little bit of reflection before going to bed.

Even though I am today specially grumpy, I can't deny that I had an awesome day. Walking in the icy cold while the sun was going down was nice, and there weren't many people out and about since it's christmas.

Even though it didn't snow, the grass by the river was still frosty, a reminder, that snow was here and will maybe come back again.

I still remember when I first came to Germany as a child. I was completely baffled by the snow, since in Spain we lived near the ocean, it never snowed in the first nine years of my life.

My mom loves the mild temperature in our home country, but I learned to enjoy the icy cold too. What I can't handle, ironically enough, is the heat. The summers over here are even hotter than in my hometown in Spain, which is crazy, considering this is a country mostly known for its cold weather and people.

My grandpa, the father of my mom's (may he rest in peace) always called the germans "square heads". Heh. But there is some truth to it. They are very by the book, very formal and surprisingly shy. But they're not as cold as people outside think. They just have a more reserved way of expressing it.

I personally have been sadly, in my over 20 years of living here, already sort of german-fied. I am convinced though, that, when I eventually move back to Spain, I will spain-fy back again.

That's the great thing about people, they are constantly changing and adapting. Sometimes for the better...sometimes for the worse.

I am probably an example of the latter. But I'm working on it! Sometimes. I don't know where I am supposed to get the energy. I will try to get my hands on some Vitamin D and go outside whenever the sun is shining. But vitamins and movement can only help so far when you have a disposition when you could possibly, if you are unlucky, be so unmotivated to do anything that you fall into stupor. Negative symptoms be damned. I've got such loud thoughts, but I'm standing there like an idiot. Oh well. Here comes the grumpiness again.

I think that's all for today. I am so awfully uncreative these days. But, as someone wise once said: A fruit tree doesn't have fruit the whole year around. Sometimes it's just waiting and absorbing stuff. I think I will go absorb my dreams today. IT'S STILL SO EARLY THOUGH!

WHY IS IT ALREADY SO DARK!

GOD DAMN IT!

Hehehehe! I guess I will see if I can get inspired and maybe do something small before going to bed.

Good night anyways!

P.S: I wonder how the Luka-centric video will be like. Like...I thought maybe they move on from the music format and change it to drama cd for the second part, but it doesn't seem like it. And what will happen to Luka?? Will he die?? We are definetly getting Anakt Flashbacks, which is already very telling. As much as I want to eat him, it's true that Luka had a very sad childhood without Hyuna and Hyun-woo.

BUT NOW I GO! MY IMAGINARY DREAM CITY FULL OF COOKY CHARACTERS PEOPLE NEED ME!

[finleyforevermore]

imagine after school we are sitting at the kitchen counter eating cookies i made (i 💙 baking) and talking about our days.

I of course was mostly complaining because that's just who I am, "And then he said I have the body of an 8 year old TWICE! Like why was he even looking? That's so weird 🤢" (talking abt military kid also true story)

And after that we settle onto the couch having soundtracks of musicals playing as we snuggle under the blankets. I would smile at you and say some sentimental type stuff like, "I love you Finley and I hope you know I'll always have your back."/p

After that I would feel like the silence is too awkward so I would be like, "Finley! I have GOT to show you Kinky Boots! Oh and have you seen the Enchanted Bookshop? You know I was Long John Silver back in my day 😌😌" (also true story I was a pirate in my community theater a few years ago. And kinky boots sounds dirty but its not that bad from what i remember)

I'm listening very intently the whole way through but every so often I'll go "these cookies are delicious-"

"if your gonna insult someone, at least be clever about it, instead of sounding like a broken record. I find calling people vermin is pretty effective." "When'd you call someone that?" "Just today!...in my mind.."

"Well sure I know that. It'd be dumb of me not to know that. And it'd be dumb of you not to know that I love you too." /p

"You're only 15! When you say 'back in my day', you make yourself sound all old!", figure now's the perfect opportunity to reference one of my favorite YouTubers, "It's like, 'back in my day, polio was a jump rope activity and not a disease!'"

"I haven't!! But now I've GOTTA see it! You wouldn't happen to have a recording of you in it, would you?"

At some point my mouth just goes agape and I shove my phone into your face. "Wh-what? What is it?" "DON'T YOU SEE?? NEW OFF BOOK EPISODE!" "That's that podcast you like right-" "YES AND BEFORE THE NEXT MINUTE PASSES WE'RE GONNA LISTEN TO IT-"

I thrown in multiple Off Book references in our conversations and I can't help but laugh when I see the look on your face when you realize where I got it from.

(yeah no i know kinky boots isn't as bad as it sounds dw XD)

[lilyandthetulips]

December

It is December and we must be brave - Natalie Diaz

It’s the 1st and brave is easier said than done, so you have to sit in the sun and pull in a breath and hold it there because that’s all you can really do right now (doesn’t it feel so good? That air? I forgot I could do this) And you need to explain, again, to someone else that it didn’t work out and yes it was their loss and yes the right person will come when you least expect it and yes I am so young and hot and everything will be okay. So I write that on a sticky note and tape it on my mirror in the hopes it will stick (ha!) and it does for the times I’m yelling Bikini kill in my car, but not for the times that Bob Dylan comes on shuffle and I remember a certain way their shoulders slumped when they sat on the edge of the bed. 

Summer comes hot and heavy and thick, sliding down my back, the grass feels too warm between my toes, too green, too squishy. Remember spring? Remember how you named it after them? But it’s December Lil, not spring, and you must be brave. Tread lightly in the yard, deathly afraid of Christmas beetles and dog shit bombs, throw a slobbery tennis ball and ask Maple what she’s doing over and over and over even though you know she can’t answer because she’s a dog. Escape to the valley, find comfort at night, let the TV static bug noises hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm let the fence out back give way to the tangled trail between Queensland and New South Wales. Nothing but bush and mountain ranges and tall, stiff grass and snakes and rabbits and kookaburras and yowies and moths that think it’s funny to fly at your face. The dogs tap tap tap behind you as you go to make tea. You stand in the door frame and sigh and sip and yell oi! When someone pipes up behind you. Imagine ducking under the barbed wire with Cella and Maple in tow and running through the dry bushes and making friends with a yowie, tall and hairy and shy, and making feral howling noises and never thinking about spring again. I bet yowies don’t care about Bob Dylan.

I fear my phone that disgusting little brick of cells and wires and fingerprints full of things I don’t want to see or hear, hateful brick! I saw something just now in its evil little face and I don’t want to eat anymore. I should anyway. Can I please have a six-inch white with classic chicken not toasted thanks no cheese thankyou can I please have lettuce spinach carrot and onion just mayo please yeah salt and pepper thanks yes please I will take my free cookie yeah it’s been a busy shift lots of messy cunts leaving clothes in the fitting rooms what about you? Did you know that 37 of Bob Dylan’s songs have a woman’s name in the title?

I am unmoored. Intellectualise the need for attachment all you want but it will still be there, a tiny stone at the bottom of your stomach, rattling around with the lunch you forgot to eat. There is too much nuance in the grief of it to be explained in simple, scientific terms. Anxious attachment, avoidant, secure. It’s more abstract than those. The need to find someone else’s hair on your pillowcase when you strip the bed, the need to sit quietly together and talk about playing crack the egg when you were a kid. I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t feel like this. But it’s December now! Come on! I will swim in the pool and crochet till my fingers are stiff. I will loop fuzzy yarn around and around and around my hand until the blood is constricted, my fingers red and puffy. I will scan bar codes and have sex and poke dog antibiotics into tiny chunks of beef mince. I miss my Yowie friend when I come back home, down from the mountain. I slam into the back of someone’s Hilux, I sweat on the curb in my crocs as translucent green radiator fluid slowly spreads along the bitumen. I sweat and I cry I apologise I call my dad. My tears are big and fat and I drop them everywhere and I don’t care (I do).

Oh, root rot! All my roots turn brown and slimy and I don’t know why. I pull them off and poke them down the drain. Now all my pothos stems are turning black and all my nails are growing long and I don’t know what to do about anything anymore. I place the pot in the sun on my deck and sit next to it like an old friend, this plant who has grown for years off my shelf, watching me work and squirm in bed, watching me read and pace and play the harmonica and crack open fortune cookies and take the fortunes way too seriously and do anything but write. Steadily pushing out a chain of waxy leaves, splitting the surface of its stems over and over and over. If it could speak it would probably laugh in my face and say something cryptic like One should feel freedom of the mind. And oh! What’s this? This tiny spec! It couldn’t be, could it? It is! Contentedness in the sun, my nose turns up, an earnest face, to the simplicity of the light. Ah, how quickly it can change my thoughts. It’s almost embarrassing.

God, here we are, we’re almost there, the edge of the cliff, hug yourself tightly now. December the 25th. Panic! I don’t want to be here anymore, I don’t want this body, I don’t want this heart. I don’t want these memories. I can’t just up and leave my bones, my skin, my muscle. I have to be here and play it out, I have to keep going knowing what I do about my past. I’m trying to say that sometimes it’s just too much. I’m trying to say that I have to carry the weight of everything I’ve ever felt, everything that everyone says I’m supposed to feel. Can’t I trade it in? These experiences? I don’t think I want them right now. Can’t I dump this sandbag of feelings slung over my shoulder on the concrete with a huh like the sound of being punched in the stomach? December is a black hole. Tie up your loose ends, throw away the receipts and 7/11 sandwich wrappers catching under your driver’s seat.

December’s language is imprecise grief - Nelly Sachs

“It’s basically medical at this point.” The grief. I say this to Zan in the Falcon. We are talking about the fear, the black hole. Fear of what? We don’t know. We are talking about how everything is going really well but I am still terrified. Terrified of everything that has ever happened and everything that will ever happen, it’s the 31st. An earnest conversation in running water. We are in the valley again, I am crouched at the mouth of a rockpool, water swells my bikini bottoms. I am shivering, I am small, I am humming It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue. Zan says this is their favourite place and I tell them that’s a bold statement for someone so young. I make paint by scraping wet rocks together, something I did when I was a kid. The grass is hot again and the blades are too wild and fat out here in the rainforest. Teens in a car are snickering at us as we grab our towels from the car park, I forget I’m not one of them anymore. When you’re sixteen everything feels like the end of the world. I’ve had so many end-of-the-worlds, I guess I could say the same for 21.

[lovely--lover]

Little things when you are Alex Jones Caretaker

💚After leaving the hospital you became Alex’s live in caretaker and he didn't want to leave your side too scared of what would happen if you were too far away. He cant remember ever feeling safe but he feels safe with you. What if someone took you? What if someone took him again? He would never see you again. 

💚When you’re watching tv he would sit right next to you with an inch between even with plenty of space on the couch. When you showered he would sit outside the door playing with toy cars until you were done and you would do the same when he took his bath. Every once in a while he would call out for you “Y/N” you would gently knock on the door “I’m right here Alex” 

💚Alex would sleep outside your door at night curled up with his blanket and puppy plushie. You didn't even know until one night you got up for a glass of water and almost tripped over him. End up sleeping in his room until he was able to sleep on his own without being scared. (every once in a while he’ll have a nightmare or a storm will scare him and you’ll wake up with him sleeping outside your door once again)

💚You would have to implement a ‘no toys at the dinner time’ rule because Alex would bring his toy cars to dinner and drive them around his plate and off the table too distracted to eat and his food would get cold (baby deserves a warm meal)

💚Sometimes while he’s eating he will reach into his pocket and slowly pull out his favorite car holding it under the table rolling it on his leg because he thinks you can’t see it (and you pretend you don't)

💚Alex has a tendency to eat too fast and take big bites when you make a homemade meal. He’s so used to frozen food or no food at all and food taste so much better when you make it! (I feel like he would really like pasta dishes and doesn't want to eat much else)

💚You buy food magazines for Alex to look through and tell him to circle anything that looks tasty. Almost everything is circled and the various cookie and dessert recipes are circled twice.

💚Alex always wears socks because he likes to cover his body as much as possible and doesn't like how cold the floor so you surprise him with hot wheel slippers that look like cars and he puts them on the second he wakes up and doesn't understand why you won’t let him wear them to the store 🤭

💚 The AC is always on since Alex likes wears multiple layers (it makes him feel safe) so you bought a green jacket that matched his and wear it around the house since it is sooo cold! When you're not wearing it Alex goes to find it because you're not wearing your matching jacket?? You must have lost it!

💚Afterwards he loves to have matching things whenever he sees a shirt or socks he likes he would grab a second set when you ask about it he just mumbles “matching” before putting it in the cart

💚 Alex always brings you a drink when you're sitting on the couch or working. Gently walking over holding the glass with both hands trying not to spill it because he always fills it too close to the top. Its a concoction he made just for you “Oh so this is orange and apple juice? Thank you” you drink it anyways because Alex said he knows you “like both” and smiles when you drink it all

💚Only lets you cut his hair so once a month Alex sits in a kitchen chair with a green towel wrapped around his shoulders as you trim his hair. Stares at you the entire time and when you glance down making eye contact his lips turn up into a small smile (every time)

💚Over time Alex would open up; speaking a sentence here or there, making eye contact with you, and every once in a while his lips would curl up in a rare smile. Having your safety and care allows him to grow and become his own person!

Masterlist

[mischiefmanaged71]

The Love Hypothesis (21/22) - Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is a PhD student who wants to prove to her best friend that she has moved on and dating. With no way to prove it, she kisses the first man she sees, which ends up being none other than Dr. Strange, known as one of the most unapproachable and critical professors in the university.

A/N: AU! Stephen Strange is a Professor/Doctor at Columbia University and reader is a Ph.D. student (Reader - 28, Stephen - 34). Credits to Ali Hazelwood for the original story. This work is a piece of fiction. I have no ownership over anything, this is ff.

Pairing: Stephen Strange X FEM! Reader

Word Count: 1K

Series Masterlist

Listening to the dramatized anecdotes from Stephen’s childhood via Hayden, Y/N had an inkling the stories were a culmination of years works to annoy the man to no end. 

“Guess there isn’t an age limit for embarrassment.” Hayden said, “Be glad I didn’t delve into the camp stories.” he laughed, shaking his head “I’ve got a few great ones.”

The unimpressed look on Stephen’s face shut Hayden down as he shuffled to the front of the restaurant. She laughed, picking a fortune cookie from the bowl at the front. 

“Don’t tell me, you hate these too?”

“I don’t, actually.” Stephen replied, “They just taste like Styrofoam.”

“Probably have similar nutritional values too.” Sam muttered, grabbing one from the bowl.

The rain had stopped, a shiny street under the streetlights. A cool breeze brushing stray leaves around them. The air was refreshing, a contrast to the warmth of the restaurant after many hours indoors.  

“ ‘He who laughs at himself never runs out of things to laugh at’ “ Hayden read, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Did this cookie just throw shade at me?”

“I believe so.” Sam replied, “What does yours say, Y/N?” 

“It’s fine, actually.” 

“I’ll believe it when I hear it.” Nat replied.

“ ‘It’s never too late to tell the truth.’ “ she hummed, tucking the paper in her pocket. 

Hayden fixed onto Stephen, “Stephen, open yours.”

He tilted his head to the side, tucking his hands into his pockets. “I’m not going to eat cardboard because you’re offended by the cookie.”

“You’re a shit friend.”

He tutted, “According to the fortune cookie industry, you’re-”

Y/N tugged his arm, “Hand it over. I’ll read it. And eat the cardboard.”

“Stephen is giving you a ride, right?” Sam asked.

“I should be fine, it’s only a ten minute walk back.” 

“What about your suitcase?”

“It’s not that heavy.” she dismissed, although glancing back at him, she corrected herself. “Stephen will walk me home, yeah?”

“Course.” he tugged her duffel bag off her shoulder, throwing it over his own.

Once Sam was no longer within earshot, she turned to Stephen.

“Are you sure you want to carry all that weight, you might throw your back out. I hear its common after a certain age.”

“You’re such a comedian, you know that?” he glared at her, following Hayden along to his car while Sam and Nat followed, grabbing a ride with him back to their respective apartments.

“Hey,” Hayden caught her attention, “What did Stephen’s fortune cookie say?”

“Oh, nothing.” she shrugged, looking down “Just ‘Hayden Reyes Ph.D is a loser’ “ 

Hayden laughed, throwing up his middle finger before they all left in his car. 

“What does it really say?” 

‘You can fall in love. Someone will catch you.’

“Is it alright if we talk about it? I think it’s only right that we do.”

“We can. We should-” he breathed, “Harvard is going to fire him. Other disciplinary measures are still being decided. There were meetings until late last night. That’s why I didn’t call you earlier. Harvard’s Title IX coordinator will be in touch with you soon.”

“What about your grant?”

He shook his head, “I’m not sure. I don’t particularly care about my grant right now.”

The comment surprised her, until she remembered the professional impact of Tom’s betrayal as a co-worker and friend. “I’m sorry, Stephen. I know he was your friend, you thought you could trust him-”

“I was wrong to have trusted him with you.” He shut his eyes, “I had no idea what he was truly like and that cost you...”

“He wasn’t my friend. I never knew him, obviously.”

“For a bit, I was worried that I would stop you from moving to Boston and doing the grant.”

“I don’t care-I could care less about any of it.” he ran a hand through his hair.

Her eyes glossed over his face, “I think I may have found a lab to finish my study. It’s closer. Means I won’t have to move next year.”

“Y/N, that’s great.” he smiled.

“You also weren’t the only one.”

His face twisted in confusion.

“The meeting in the bathroom. The one before my interview.”

“Did you remember that?”

A laugh bubbled in her throat, “Of course I did. It took me a while to realise it was you, though. Why did you never say anything?”

“You introduced yourself as if we had never met. So I went along with it.” 

Her face flushed in embarrassment as he continued, “I had been...thinking about you. For years. I didn’t want to...”

“But you didn’t need to lie.”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

“Even by omission?”

He shrugged, a smirk sliding on his face, “Maybe. Are you upset?”

“Not really. It’s not that bad of a lie.” she mused, “I’m more upset at myself for the terrible ones I created. I didn’t bring it up after I figured it out.”

“Still, if you feel-”

She gripped his hand, “I’m not upset, Stephen.”

He glanced at her, “I’m other things...entirely other things. Glad, for one that this is all out in the open. That we can talk about it.”

“I’m also glad you remembered me.”

“You’re very memorable.”

“Am I really?”

“Do you remember your first seminar talk?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Your elevator pitch - the turbolift pitch. You used a picture from the Next Generation on your slides.”

“You’re a Trekkie too?” she laughed, “I had no idea.”

“I had a phase. And that next year’s picnic when we all got rained on. You played freeze tag with someone’s kid for hours.”

“Dr. Moss’s kid.” she stared at him curiously, “I didn’t think you liked kids.”

“I don’t like twenty-five year olds who act like toddlers. I don’t mind if they’re actually four.”

She smiled, “Knowing who I was. Did that have anything to do with your decision to date me?"

Recognising the dozen of scenarios and replies rushing through his eyes, “I wanted to help you.”

“I know. I believe you. But was that it?”

Stephen pressed his lips together, closing his eyes as he sighed. 

“No.” he resigned.

“No.” she repeated, “We’re here.” she looked up at the building.

“Should I carry your bag upstairs?” 

She paused, looking up at him, “Maybe later. There’s something I wanted to tell you. Before.”

“Okay.”

He stopped in front of her and she looked at him. There was only a small distance between them. Y/N felt her heart overflow with everything from the past few months catching up to her as she stared at him.

“Throughout all of this, I was a few things, if not, stubborn, in-denial and stupid. I was wrong. This whole time. It’s like statistical hypothesis testing. Type 1 error, right?”

“Type 1 error?”

“Yeah. A false positive. Thinking that something is happening when it isn’t.”

“I know what a Type 1 error is-”

“Course. The most terrifying thing is realising you misread a situation. That I could convince myself of something that wasn’t true. See something that wasn’t there because I wanted to see something.”

“Right.”

“The thing is, I didn’t account that a type 2 error is also bad.”

“Yes. False negatives are bad too.”

“Not being able to see something that’s right in front of you. Purposefully making yourself blind to the truth because you’re afraid of seeing too much.”

“What are you saying?” he stepped closer.

“There have been so many things that happened before I even met you. They changed me and I...have this fear of being alone. Maybe that is why I fabricated all of these lies instead of accepting the truth. I think...” she paused, looking up at him. She inhaled deeply, “I think I forgot myself.”

“What can I do?” 

“Just let me tell you.” she gripped his hand.

He didn’t find respite for the uneasy feeing in his stomach but he stopped, nonetheless, squeezing her hand.

“I’ve been lying to you. It’s more by omission, but- I need to tell you this now.” his hands gripped her face now, thumbs swiping away the tears from her cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, “What is it?”

“I love you, Stephen.”

A look of surprise crossed his face as he pulled back a breath, searching her face for the truth. And when the realisation flowed through him, Stephen pressed his lips to her’s with the finality of it all reaching them. It was a passionate embrace that stripped the breath from her chest as he breathed her in.

“No idea how long I’ve dreamt of those words.” he exhaled.

TAGS

@goldencherriess @severuined @thewinterpoet2 @pasta-warlord @typical-bistander @judig92 @captainbarness @gaitwae​ @sleutherclaw @angstsfordays @mavsketch @mando-is-the-way @samisubi @liar-liar13 @evelynrosestuff @stanny-uwu @colorfuly-blog04 @frostandflamesfanfic @katsuphobic @fiadh-bell @awmysherl @sourgrapes-aa @orighami @apple-and-berry @blue-aconite @kaykay0315 @hunterofshadows04 @ohchoices @empty-canvas @99queenrory99 @savage-rhi @shutupwylow @singhfae @loki-is-loved @jotaros-bara-tiddies @cottagecore-cat @simpforreadheads @levitationcloak @hospitaldaydream​ @elicheel @supervengerslock @clockblobber @multi-obsessed-fanfic-writer @classicrebound @sherlockstrangewolf @veryladyqueen

[drowning-in-deadlines]

TID & TLH Incorrect Quotes

Cordelia: The best part of an oreo is the cookie part, not the frosting. Deal with it. Matthew: Darkness without light is an abyss. Light without darkness is blinding. You cannot have a coin with one side. Alastair: Yo Socrates, it’s a fucking cookie

x

*Tessa going to Will for help after Sophie knocks out Jessamine with a mirror in Clockwork Princess*

Tessa: Will, I need some advice. Will: You need advice from ME? Tessa: Yeah, frightening, isn't it?

x

Charlotte: We've got to find a way to cut down our expenses. What can we live without? Jessamine: Will, probably.

x

Matthew: How would you like your coffee? James: As dark and as bitter as my soul. Matthew, to someone behind the counter: I need one vanilla latte with extra cream and sugar.

x

Will: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Jem's birthday invitations. Tessa: Well, what are they supposed to say? Will: "Jem's birthday". Tessa: So, what do they say instead? Will: "Jem’s bi". Tessa: Tessa: Works out either way.

x

Jem: That's ridiculous, Will doesn't have a crush on me. Tessa: Yes he does. Cecily: Yes he does. Will: Yes I do.

x

James: Matthew, fuck off. James: And by "fuck off" I mean "fuck off right back here and listen", you insufferable prick.

x

Matthew: Alastair, my old friend! Alastair: I think you tried to kill me at some point. Matthew: That was obviously just my way of getting to know you.

x

Cordelia: Look guys, I need help. Anna: Love help? Matthew: Financial help? James: Emotional help? Lucie: Help moving a body? *Everybody looks at Lucie* Lucie: What?

x

Jem: It's pretty cold outside.. wanna hold hands? We should stay close. Tessa, blushing: Okay. Jessamine: It's fucking summer.

x

Jem: Will, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean? Will: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later. Jem: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Tessa. Will: Wait- Jem, no-

x

James: Can we go to a haunted house? Lucie: What’s wrong with the one we live in? James: Wh-what? Lucie: Goodnight, Jamie.

x

Lucie: *gets a text* Oh! It’s Grace. Malcolm: Did she get me the stuff? Lucie: Yeah, she says she got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood. Malcolm: Wow! Where’d she find 12 gallons of fake blood? Lucie: You wanted fake blood? Malcolm: Lucie: I’ll go call Grace.

x

Jessamine: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons! Will: Bet you I can! Charlotte: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

x

James: I like to think of myself as a semi responsible adult here. Lucie: Matthew is 70% of your impulse control and you know this Jamie. Matthew: I feel like James is the more responsible one of us two, though. James: We are both 70% of each others' impulse control. Matthew: Just two lil beasts in pinwheel hats spinning on the merry-go-round at dangerous velocities, holding each other’s hands so the other doesn’t fall off.

x

Will: Would you take a bullet for me? Jem: ...yes? *Jessamine angrily burst into the room* Will: *running away* Great, thanks!

x

Jem: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response. Will: Wow. They sound stupid. Jem: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense. Will: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!” Jem: I guess you’re right. Hey Will, I love you. Will: See! Just say that! Jem: Holy fucking shit. Will: If that flies over their head then, sorry Jem, but they're too dumb for you. Jem: Will.

x

Tatiana: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”. Tatiana: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

x

Charlotte: Did you miss me while I was gone? Henry: You were gone?

x

Charlotte: I am in charge of this disaster. Will: I have a name, you know.

x

James, hungover: Please tell me I'm imagining that I claimed I was king of the ducks. Lucie: I would, but then I would be lying to the King of All Ducks.

x

Matthew: Do you think different paints have different tastes? Christopher: They do. Thomas: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

x

Matthew: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited. Thomas: "If" Alastair: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and he might not even die.

x

Tessa: How do you do that? Will: I'm fearless. Jem: I saw you run from bees ducks yesterday. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. Will: I'm mostly fearless.