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harringrovesuperior · 1 year ago

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Small bit of a fanfic I’m writing(with a friend) “friends to what..?” Harringrove

Billy’s pov: “today was just a normal day again, me probably getting yelled at by Neil (if that’s how u spell it) having to drive my step sister, max to school. “ I rolled my eyes and got up, and got dressed. Jeans, with a red shirt, unbuckled at the top to show some skin. I brushed my teeth and did my hair, and walked downstairs. Neil wasn’t up yet, he wasn’t even home. Didn’t care about anything and just left. I ate breakfast and waiting for max, since I had to drive her to school, it wasn’t that bad. “MAX LETS GO, TIME TO LEAVE.” I yelled, as I was washing the plate and getting the keys to my car. The car ride was quiet, neither of us wanted to talk about anything

I dropped max off at school, and went to the high school, had 2 classes left. I got into the class, almost late but made it in time, a few minutes later, I saw steve, steve Harrington. He was apparently late? I smirked, I liked his outfit, for once.

He'd always wear the same outfit, with a different shirt, but today he wore something new, something cute and different?

I'm sitting in class, and the teacher kept talking about the cells and random science stuff? It wasn't really that important. I had my feel up on the desk, and the teacher kept telling me to take my feet off the desk. "Mr Hargrove. Feet off the desk, I'm not asking again" he said.

"Whatever cunt." I rolled my eyes and put my feet off the desk. I wasn't really paying attention in class anyways but it didn't matter, we had 20 minutes before it ended.

Fast forward: detention

I’m sitting in detention, just for calling one teacher a cunt. I rolled my eyes and had my feet up on the desk, and then I heard the teacher. “Harrington, sit.” Harrington was in detention? Steve turns around and once his eyes met mine, he had a huge smile plastered onto his beautiful face. I didn’t wanna say anything but I did. “Why’s pretty boy in detention?” “Threw paper.” “Well that is a shitty reason” “Tell me about it” he rolled his eyes before returning his gaze on me. “You?” “Called a teacher a cunt” He let out a loud chuckle.

“BOYS QUIET” the dull teacher shouted I simply ignored him and kept talking to Harrington. “Well , you going to that party?” “Jason’s?” “Well who the fuck else?” He rolled his pretty dark brown eyes before going to say something but stopped. “Words got caught?” “What?” He said confused “You heard me pretty boy” “Pfft no they didn’t I was just thinking” “Hm.” “Your sister-“ “Stepsister.” “Right, yeah stepsister, she’s been hanging out with Lucas and that lot..” “Oh has she now?”

“Don’t worry bout it , they’re all losers anyways.” I clenched my fists together tightly as I felt anger build up.I kept calm somehow and realised I needed to have a word with that little ginger shit. “Yeah so she’s been getting really close with that Lucas kid lately , pretty sure they’re together if I’m gonna be honest.” At this point I was incredibly annoyed somehow I managed to keep calm and carried on to another conversation so that pretty boy and I wouldn’t get into an argument.

Fast forward an hour

I slam the front door closed as I angrily made my way to Max’s room. I kicked the door open, causing it to fly open earning a loud shout from max “BILLY WHAT THE FUCK?!” “So. I’ve heard you’ve been hanging out with those dicks again.”I said annoyed. “Yeah and your problem is?” “You shouldn’t be hanging out with those dipshits they’re losers.” “I can hang out with whoever the fuck I want.” “Well you’re not allowed to hang out with them anymore you go it?!” She simply replied by giving me the middle finger before I leafy her room incredibly pissed.

I walked downstairs to see if Niel was home yet, to my surprise he's on a chair in the living room, sleeping, a bottle on the floor. "He was out drinking again.." I thought to myself I tried to grab the bottle to throw it away, before I could grab it I felt his arm grab mine. "Listen here boy, you are taking max to get ice cream tomorrow and if I find out that you didn't, you won't have your car, and a broken nose." "Do I make myself clear?" "Yes sir." I nodded and grabbed the bottle quickly, throwing it in the trash being walking quickly to my room. I opened my door quickly, shutting it slowly trying not to make a sound. I looked at myself in the mirror, before I'd think I'd always look good, for the girls(😭) but now, I hate it, I hate how I look, but my mom, always liked it. I changed into just sweatpants and laid down on my bed, all I could think about is stupid Harrington. The prettiest boy in the entire school, yet he wasn't even king anymore, but people still liked him, well most people did. Except for me, Tommy, carol and some random ass people in the school that aren't that important. Nobody really knew that me and Harrington were friends ti began with, so I made it seem like we hated each other, and was rivals. I sighed and drifted off to sleep, after an hour of thinking.

Steve’s pov:

The alarm ring the same way it did as usual.I groaned as the ringing pounded my ear , I slowly turn to turn off my alarm before laying back sprawled out on my bed staring at the ceiling. My eyes felt heavy after a good minute or two , so i thought I might catch five more minutes in bed.

I woke up again, this time with a rather rude one,this time it was no alarm clock, but a very loud scream down my ear. I jolted awake whilst letting out a loud scream before finally realising who it was. “what the hell mom?!” “Steve Harrington! You’re late to school again!” “So? It’s only school .. it’s shitty anyways..” I trailed off before my mother left my room looking very annoyed , not even a second later I heard her scream upstairs “YOU BETTER BE READY IN TWO MINUTES STEVE OR YOURE NOT GETTING YOUR CAR FOR TWO WEEKS!” Fuck. I thought. If I lose my car then how the hell am I supposed to go around and hang around with my mates? I couldn’t even finish my thoughts before I realised I still hadn’t gotten ready.

SHIT. I quickly grab my jeans , and a blue top before I made a quick stop at my mirror to fix my hair, dashing out the door only a moment later.

I walked through the empty halls making my way to chemistry.I always hated the subject. The only reason I like it better now was because I was next to my best friend Billy.I had known him for years, he’d been my best friend since 3rd grade, he was always by my side no matter what.

I quietly snuck into the class room before only getting halfway before I was caught by Mr Clarke. “Mr.Harrington you’re late, again..” “Sorry mr Clarke I was helping a grandma cross the street” I could hear Billy’s chuckling behind me, that sound always used to calm me down , his voice…his eyes…his laugh .. he was just perfect. “Mr Harrington!” I quickly snapped out of my trance and focused back on the teacher, “yes sir?”. “What are you doing standing? Go sit down!” I nodded before making my way to my desk. “You want a puff?”Billy said holding a cigarette, “nah I’m good” “Alright…” the class went by pretty slowly and by the end Billy and I had already lost all of our attention and started throwing paper aeroplanes across the room.

I threw one around the room whilst mr Clarke wasn’t looking and by some bad luck, it had hit the back of his head.He slowly turned around and only said very calmly, “who threw that?” He paused for a brief moment, “WHO THREW THAT?!” He screamed leaving everyone to point at me.

“OH FUCK YOU” I looked up and met the fiery gaze of our teacher before. He then regained his calmness and simply told me “you have a detention” I plainly replied with an okay before heading on out.

Later after school I reluctantly made my way to detention, and to my surprise the only person I found there was none other than Billy. The boy that was my best friend. The boy that is so perfect that it hurts sometimes because I know he doesn’t like me back. But we had to be rivals, nobody knew we were friends, let alone best friends.

He turns around and once his eyes met mine, he had a huge smile plastered onto his beautiful face “hey pretty boy” “Hey.., the fuck are you doing here?” “I called a teacher a cunt” Classic.. Billy the bad boy.

The bad boy that had all the girls falling for him left and right, he’s got the reputation for dating everyone and being able to get who he wants whenever he wants.

If only he knew how much I liked him, then maybe he would actually want me for me , and not as just a new boyfriend every week.

“Helloooo?????”

I snapped back to reality to realise Billy was right in front of me , “you okay? Did you not hear me? I said I liked your shirt” “Oh - t-thanks” I smiled awkwardly as a light blush creeped up my neck. Billy only responded with a smile, he then looked at me straight in the eyes and oh, how I could melt into those eyes any day , his gaze made my knees go weak and before I knew it within every second we were getting closer and closer until suddenly he kissed me.

I couldn’t even think straight, all I could process was the feeling of his soft lips against mine.. before I felt him pull away. I slowly opened my eyes to his staring in mine , we stayed like that for a bit vendors the teacher walked in and let us go home. That car ride home I thought of the things that just happened. Not believing anything.

I got out of the car, still shocked, I unlocked the front door and walked towards my room upstairs. I didn't really wanna talk to anymore but Robin, cus she gets it. I closed the door, and quickly called Robin. On the phone: "Yes dingus?" "Robin. We need to talk, like please." "What's wrong dingus? Ofc we can talk?" "It's.. something happened at school today." "What happened? Did someone do something to you?" "Yes.. we'll it was in detention" "You got detention?!?!?!" "Yes but that's not important rn." "Yes it is, tell me about that tomorrow at work, but what happened in detention?" "Billy.." "What did he do? Did you guys get into a fake fight again?" (She knows about it being fake) "No no.. he uhm.." "What did he do dingus?" "He kissed me Robin!" "He what???" "Yeah.. he did" "Omg!!! Why don't you sound happy about it?" "It felt different.. I'm not sure how I feel about it, he never did that before Robin!" "Maybe he likes you? Maybe he just wanted to taste~" she said with a laugh afterwards "Robinnn!" "Sorry sorry, but maybe he does?" "I dont know robin.. he flirts with everyone at the school(that are girls) " "Yes but he calls you pretty boy, and I see the way he looks at you(when he goes to scoops)" "Maybe.. i dont know robin, I don't wanna overthink anything" They talk for about an hour about it "Ok ok, we can talk later dingus, it's getting late, cya at scoops!" We both say bye, and we hung up, I change into pjs and get into the bed, but I can't sleep.. "Why did he do that?" "Does he not want to be friends anymore?" "Does he like me?" "Does he like someone??" Those words kept going in my head, maybe he did like someone.. after an hour of thinking again, I tried to drift back to sleep.

Steve’s pov :

I woke up feeling incredibly tired, my whole body was aching and not to mention, I also had work today. I looked over to my alarm clock to see that it was already 11:50. Shit. I’m going to be late again- last time I was late I got in a lot of shit with the boss, so this time I quickly threw my stupid uniform on and headed to scoops.

I sped through the traffic and managed to get there….late. “Steve Harrington!” I could hear robin shout at me as I was approaching scoops.

“Yes robin?”

“You’re late.”

“And?”

“Steve you fucker, you shows up late and made me deal with a group of bratty ass kids!”

“Not my fault” I said before I stepped behind the counter.

“Well then you can deal with the next 50 alone.”

“Fine.” I said rather annoyed, although I get why she’d leave me up to it though, I’m just glad she forgot about Billy. Or so I thought…

“Harrington.”

“Buckley.”

“Are you going to tell me about Hargrove or not”

“Damn. Thought you’d forget..”

“No-? Now what the fuck happened to make you idiots kiss?” She said half chuckling whilst remaining half serious. I took a moment to really think about it. I really didn’t know why he did kiss me.. it - it just- I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard robin’s finger snapping in front of my face.

“Hello-? OI! Dingus??”

“What what?? I’m here Jesus Christ..”

“Go on. Tell me”

“Robin, to be honest I don’t really know.. I couldn’t even imagine what was going through his head..”

“Well what was going through yours?”

She said in a calm voice.

“I… i ..don’t..know..” I said thinking,

“Oh Steve, are you falling for him?” She said as she started to laugh, when I didn’t reply, her laughter immediately stopped. “Hahah-you definitely like him Steve ….oh my god.. Steve.”“Well- I don’t know! I - I - don’t know yet!”

“Holy shit… Steve Harrington likes fucking Billy Hargrove…”

“Yeah. Fine . I do. I fucking do. I fucking like Billy Hargrove!” I said rather loudly. I thought that no one really paid attention, that is until I heard someone clearing their throat.

“Ah-em”i slowly turned around to see Billy Right behind me,I wasn’t sure whether he had or hadn’t heard me so I just froze.

“Holy shit..well erm, I’ve got to do some stuff in the back talk to you later yeah?” Robin said as she sped off into the back room. I stood there in disbelief. Damn you Buckley.

“What happened pretty boy? Someone lost their voice?”Billy said smirking. “I-I-I-“ I couldn’t get out a word.I felt like I couldn’t breathe, I started getting dizzy, but somehow after a while I manage to snap out of it and finally say something.

“Pfft- no. I was just thinking. Now what do you want?”

“Neopolitan.”

“Oh. Hey there ginge”

“Just get me my ice cream.” Max said as she rolled her eyes at me causing Billy to chuckle.

“And you?”

“Mint.”

I finished scooping max’s ice cream before giving her it and started scooping Billy’s.

“I want to talk.”I say catching him off guard,

“About what.” He said whilst I was continuing to scoop his ice cream

“Yesterday.”

“Look. We can talk about that another time. I’m with my sister and I don’t want her to know. Okay?”

I only responded by giving him the ice cream.

“That’ll be $5.39 cents.”

He only gave me a death stare before handing the money and storming off

“Thanks for choosing scoops ahoy enjoy your ice cream.” I said as I watched him leave, fuck, what did I get myself into��?

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #stranger things #max mayfield

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sevenstevearmy · 1 year ago

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Yeah, sorry. It's weird in the US. Sometimes salad is made of vegetables with a leafy veg base (this is the normal salad that most people picture when you say salad), or sometimes it skips the leafy stuff. Sometimes it's meat and spices mixed in mayonnaise. Sometimes it's a bunch of fruit thrown together. Sometimes it's random stuff encased in gelatin. Very sorry to the rest of the world about this one. I think the old recipes guy did a jello tuna salad recipe. We did that. Unfortunately.

hey can you reblog this with what you think a salad is and where you're from because i think we have a different definition here than in other places?

here in Chile a salad is 1 or more vegetables with lemon, oil and salt, and we have a bunch of those in the table. i've been told this is weird in the US

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gearselectric · 2 years ago

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Me when I feel a VERY SANE connection to a silly little clock…

ANYWAYS gonna talk about my Clock headcanons because I’m right!!!!!! They’re actually all canon because I said so actually!!!

Relationship headcanons

-Him Coiny and Pin are good buddies! Stay on at least decent terms throughout BFB and TPOT, but after the forgetting situation he temporarily stops interacting with them, but ends up reconnecting with them more during TPOT.

-Coiny and Pin also are friends with Saw, so Clock ends up getting close to Saw as a result!!

-Clock and Icy don’t interact much in BFB but in TPOT they recognize each other and kinda form a siblings dynamic. They play among us together and Icy is a lot better than Clock is (Clock will accidentally say he’s doing fake tasks out loud in front of Ice Cube.)

-Winner feels uncomfortable around Clock initially but eventually Clock opens up more and is more honest with Winner and they become good friends and less awkward after that!! Clock also has an infatuation with Winner at first because he knows more about Winner’s past, but eventually feels he doesn’t actually like Winner more than platonically.

-In BFB Clock has a one-sided crush on Cake. He comforts Cake about Loser being gone, but eventually loses feelings due to Cake seeming pretty uninterested. They remain buddies though, and like just being silly guys together sometimes.

-Clock feels uncomfortable with Eggy, mostly due to her blaming him for the loss during the twinkle episode. He does end up forgiving her for both that, and forgetting him (which isn’t ONLY her fault btw, since the entire team forgot him,) but he doesn’t willingly talk to her after BFB.

-Him and Needle fall in love 💙 because I said so

-him and Yellow Face are friends. They don’t rlly have any close moments they just ramble to each other abt random stuff.

-He is pretty much neutral on Firey, Leafy, and Loser, during TPOT. He isn’t as infatuated with Loser and doesn’t really know Leafy very well. And isn’t close to Firey. Part of him felt slightly replaced by Leafy but not to an extreme degree, kinda just like a tiny idea.

-He also becomes acquainted with Ruby at some point I think yeah =)

Anyways now onto… these?? (I… need therapy?)

-Maybe has BPD…… maybe…… just maybe…

-Autistic .

-stims by pacing and stomping and jumping and rocking. Yippee!!!

-full of angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Raugh!!!!!!!!!! Angst!!!!!!

Other ones

-He is agender, biromantic, quioromantic, and somewhere on the asexual spectrum =)

-when stressed his shown time might be ahead or behind . The more stressed he is the more unreliable his time will be.

-After dying for so long he felt super disoriented from how much time had passed.

-also, vaguely related, I imagine that nothing happens when they die like. When they’re revived it’s like waking up from being asleep but when you don’t have any dreams. Just time skip basically.

-if his hands break (like, they end up both pointing down unable to move up on their own yknow??? Like a broken clock???) he kinda just loses it yeah. Marbles? Lost.

-Also he can’t feel them unless he either makes a conscious effort to or they’re touched.

-sometimes he just lays and stares up at the sky to think to himself.

-he rambles/goes on tangents to himself a lot because he doesn’t wanna annoy other objects with them

Sorry for being cringe 😔 I don’t know if anybody even wants to hear about these so I am like “guess I’ll ramble on the tumblr I made a few days ago 😁”

Goodnight zappy rhino enjoyers.

#bfb clock #clock bfb #clock tpot #tpot clock #bfb #tpot #bfdi #object shows #bfb the losers #AUGH #bfb headcanons #tpot headcanons #I hope to get therapy soon guys. soon.#zappyrhinopost

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virdemption · 3 years ago

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Giant Ass List on Why Ruby is The Entirety of Damn Skippy by Lemon Demon (With Some Pictures and Links!)

Hey there! You! The (most likely) BFB fan reading this!

We all know the greatness that is “Ruby Sings” that of which is canon actually. But there’s more to her being a Lemon Demon fan than Two Trucks! Yes! In this essay-ish thing, I’ll explain why she’s the entirety of the 2005 album Damn Skippy for it’s 17th anniversary!

[This will exclude the bonus tracks because they suck, also I didn’t listen to all of them and likely never will.]

Dead Sea Monkeys: She’d fucking suck at caring for pets like there’s really no denying that.

Hell, she’s probably shared sea monkeys with Gelatin in the past which makes it much worse.

Sky is Not Blue: To start, Ruby says the following in IDFB:

And on Genius’ page for the song, it states “[Sky is Not Blue] is about things that are usually one color not being that one color, but I don’t know why they’re not that one color.”

So by going by this logic, If Ruby found the sky to be a different color from earlier for example, she’d likely ponder for at least a little bit.

Pumpkin Pie: She eats so much sugar (Mentioned in her character guidebook entry, albeit the Sugar Stash shown below isn’t canon) and if you gave her a shred of pumpkin pie she’d likely beg you for more.

When Robots Attack: Since Ruby is shown to be quite childish (Mostly in BFDIA), it’s highly likely she has a wide imagination, and this is probably her playing Ultimate Showdown in a sandbox with some of Gelatin’s action figures.

Geeks in Love: She is canonically a Lemon Demon fan need I say more-

New Way Out: First off, here’s a quote from the commentary track, the quote itself being taken from the Genius page of the song:

“The lyrics to this are utterly meaningless. They’re not supposed to convey any sort of feeling. I just needed something to fill it up. If you try to pick this one apart, you have problems.“

Oh boy. Even with the power of BFB Ruby, you struggle breaking New Way Out down.

My thoughts with this one would be the same as When Robots Attack, but it’s getting a bit more accurate to her as a character.

I would imagine this is her playing around with Flower.

What Will Happen Will Happen: It’s likely Ruby’s optimism at play here. I don’t have much to say for this so here’s the Genius description:

Kitten is Angry: It’s sort of like the Dead Sea Monkeys situation. Here, Ruby would love all animals even if they hated her in return, it’s kinda like that scene in Nyan~ Neko Sugar Girls. You probably know the one. I’m not dwelling on this any further.

The Ceiling: I don’t think I have to explain this one.

Subtle Oddities: Funny story about this one, not even Neil himself knows what this song is about.

And I thought New Way Out was hard.

What the fuck Neil.

For this one, I’m going to try and go off of my personal take on this song. That of which being the narrator is experiencing delusions in his giant house for an unknown reason. They aren’t harmful, but they’re spooky.

Perhaps around certain people (I’m thinking Teardrop or maybe even Leafy or Balloony), Ruby’s imagination goes haywire and it freaks her out.

Yes, she knows she’s safe, she’s whole, and she’s got it under control.

But she is a bit spooked for a while.

Gonna Dig Up Alec Guinness: GDUAG continues to tie into the silliness of Ruby. In this sense, the actions of the narrator digging up Alec Guinness for a tourist attraction could be shown as Ruby making bad decisions she may not realize are bad until told off for them.

Flamingo Legs:

“[…] This is another song that doesn’t really mean anything. I just, you know… pulled random stuff out of my brain. But at least it’s happy and pretty.”

This song is the true peak of Ruby’s widespread imagination being a key factor in the dissection of the more meaningless songs. While the song is one of the many random oddballs out there, it captures Ruby’s bubbly childishness a lot better than any other meaningless Lemon Demon song.

Random piece of trivia from OP: If Two Trucks didn’t become Ruby’s little piece of canon, I would have made her this song in my BFLD AU

Ode to Crayola: The song takes a very childlike approach, with the narrator going on about their love for Crayola and their crayons, with well known lines in the Lemon Demon community such as “I love my crayons and I love the way they taste“ and “I'm gonna rise at dawn with no clothes on and color on my skin.”

Saying that these aren’t screaming Ruby vibes would be kind of weird.

[This song is also what inspired this post.]

Rainwater: Like in Sky is Not Blue, I brought up the quote from IDFB that the world is a pretty strange place for Ruby. Rainwater dives deep (haha) into one big question.

Is it safe to drink the rainwater?

Has Ruby ever tried to drink rainwater? Who knows? Only time will tell.

Smell Like a Cookie All Day: I’d personally view this song as Ruby’s sugar consumption in of itself. Before you eat anything energy raising, you’d feel mellow, like during the first half of the song. It picks up in excitement from there, only to crash back down, only to spike back up again.

Dizziful Bliss: Ruby is shown to be pretty hyperactive, of course, but she’ll calm down eventually. And when she does, she’ll likely be tired. Dizzy, maybe.

Word Disassociation: This song would really just be Ruby being the silly little gem she is. Saying things without real meaning.

Eventuality: This song is primarily instrumentally driven, so I can’t say much about it without me overstretching.

And that’s about it for everything! If you have any comments, please share! I’d love to read them!

Again, happy 17th anniversary to Damn Skippy! Have a good day, readers!

#rottenhershey #BFB #battle for bfb #bfdi #bfdia #IDFB #battle for dream island #battle for bfdi #battle for dream island again #bfdi ruby #bfb ruby #lemon demon #neil cicierega #damn skippy #i spent at least an hour on this help

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orbitariums · 4 years ago

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 (𝟏𝟑)

note: hey y’all i know it’s been literally FOREVER since i’ve released a new part. i miss y’all and i’m ready to get right the fuck into this. chapter 13!!!

warnings: smut heavy, mentioning of age difference

word count: 13k

playlist *recently updated, go check it out!*

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

You woke up to the feeling of Steve’s body heat against yours, the flimsy fabric of his sheer white t-shirt bristling against your bare skin. He was laying next to you, a book open in his lap and a pencil in his hand. You weren’t quite paying attention, still settling into the day as the blur in front of your eyes slowly disappeared. Memories of last night flooded your mind fondly— Steve’s soft touch against your thighs as he carried you in from the car into the bed, the thought of someone caring so much to even do that for you, the plush feeling of his pink lips against yours.

You felt your heart swelling just to think of it, so pleased by the events of yesterday and last night especially. You felt like everything was just right at the moment. Before, some part of your brain was afraid that since things were going so well, something would inevitably go wrong later on, but you were past that fear stage. Now, you were just settling into enjoying the good moments and expecting nothing but good to come next.

Since yesterday, especially after the grand afternoon you’d had, and the way Steve treated you carrying you into his apartment, there had been a shift. It was almost imperceptible aside from the way your heart seemed to surge even higher when you were around each other. Yesterday had been such a relief once you both met Bucky and cleared that up. Any unnecessary fear or anxieties that would’ve stemmed from that dilemma were removed.

And now you felt so drawn to Steve, so inclined to trust him impossibly further— again your mind ran back to thoughts about his touch on your thighs as he carried you inside, his soft but strong hands against your smooth skin. And you thought about how you wanted his touch all the time. You’d been physically close multiple times, but only once in the intimate sense, and you were yearning for more of his touch. Though you both wanted to go slow, you found each other irresistible in every sense of the word. And you only had two weeks together—why not get closer?

Steve noticed you shifting, and looked over at you, the side of his lip quirked up into a grin. You stretched out like a cat below him, batting your lashes inadvertently.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Steve teased, and you chuckled.

You were still getting comfortable with each other, but it was easier with each and every day. The more time you spent together, the more you felt used to each other, like waking up next to the other was the norm. The thrill wasn’t gone, but the atmosphere was comfortable at the very least.

“Morning,” you said back.

You snuggled into his shoulder, hesitating a bit in case he wanted personal space, although you were craving an even closer proximity to him. But he squeezed you in closer to him, sensing your hesitation and reassuring you that there was no reason for pause. You noted how much you loved to be near him. The last few days had felt so unreal, almost childish in nature, like a silly little schoolgirl crush that wasn’t anything more, though you both knew you had strong feelings for each other. Yet now, you were sinking into the realization that being near him felt like being near a source of warmth and light that you were so grateful for— you needed it. And he needed the warmth you gave him too.

Your eyes widened as you realized Steve was drawing in his sketchbook.

“You’re drawing?” you grinned excitedly, and he laughed sheepishly and shook his head.

“Yeah. Haven’t done it in a while, it’s just random sketching… it’s a mess, honestly,” he brushed it off, but you frowned.

“I like it. I like your random sketches. You should do it more often,” you tilted your head up and kissed his cheek, another leap of courage that made Steve’s cheeks heat up, along with your words of encouragement.

“Maybe… I got time. But,” he grunted, closing his sketchbook and turning to face you. “I wanna spend time with you. Go head, get dressed. I wanna take you out today.”

How ready Steve was to take you out made you perk up. His tone, his demeanor, just the prospect of going out with him on this lovely day full of sunshine amped you up. The fact that Steve had plans for you was so refreshing. He really did want to show you just how much he cared, and he was putting in the effort, day after day. He was doing everything to make sure you knew how much he wanted to be with you and be around you. Even though it seemed as though the bar was low, that wasn’t something you were used to. Just thinking that he made time to plan things out between you and him made you feel all warm inside.

So you got ready with ease, taking a shower and getting dressed, putting on just a bit of makeup. Steve complimented your dress when you came out from the bathroom, looking you up and down with the purest, kindest admiration in his eyes.

“You like it?” you echoed, flouncing around, unable to fight off the urge to grin. You didn’t struggle with confidence in the physical sense, but Steve made you feel so sure of yourself, like even in these strange circumstances you two were under, he still wanted to show you off and make you feel good about yourself internally.

“You… look gorgeous all the time,” he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it, pulling you close under his arm.

“You’re sweet,” you grinned, and laid your head in the crook of his armpit, letting him lead you out of the apartment, letting him lead you to bliss.

When you got in the car, you saw that in the backseat there was a picnic basket and a blanket. You gasped, clasping your hand over your mouth and gaping wide eyed at Steve.

“Are we going on a picnic?” you cooed, grinning wide.

He smiled back,

“You figured it out. Listen, it’s nice out, and I know a great woodsy area where we can be alone and in peace.”

You raised a brow,

“And here I was thinking New York was a concrete jungle.”

“Gotta go up north for the good stuff,” Steve shrugged. “It’s nice and secluded, so we won’t have to worry about laying low. Just wanted to take my girl out officially.”

You leaned your elbow against the window, facing Steve as you pressed your palm to your cheek with a smug smile,

“Your girl, huh?”

Part of you was teasing him, the other part of you just wanted to hear him say it again. Neither of you had had the conversation about labels yet, but it had only been a few days. It was safe to say you weren’t quite worried about labels. You just liked each other’s company. Steve was a man of formality and tradition though, so there would be a point where he probably made things official between the two of you. But for now, he was taking it slow out of respect for you.

Steve glanced over at you, dimples forming at his cheek as he smiled back,

“My girl.”

“I like the sound of that,” you cooed, your eyes glimmering with admiration for him.

“Me too. Glad you like it,” Steve replied, his chest warming up with satisfaction.

He was testing out how calling you his girl sounded, and he loved the thought of it. Even though you were his girl, you were still entirely your own woman. That’s what he loved about you.

Steve’s hand shifted over to your lap, a gentle grip on your thigh, tapping his foot absentmindedly. He thought nothing of it, but it made your head swarm. Even days after meeting him in person his touch was electrifying and every thought of being close to him thrilled you. You’d been intimate only once with him and not again since then, but every kiss since then seemed to last longer and each one was somehow better than the last time. But even though Steve’s hand on your thigh made you feel warm all over (all over), you just grinned to yourself and faced the boundless road ahead.

| | |

“Oh, this place is so beautiful,” you said for probably the third time since you’d arrived.

The woods where Steve had brought you reminded you of California. It was bright and full of summer colors, yellow flowers springing up from the earth and surrounding the verdant grass that crushed underneath the soles of your Converse. The sunlight peeked through the forest canopy through gaps in the leafy honey locust trees and tall redwoods. Everything was lush and green and the air in the woods felt and smelled fresh and much better than the city. Steve knew you all too well, because this was the kind of place you’d go on a weekend with friends back home. You were definitely down for an adventure in the woods.

Steve set the things down on a nice clear patch of grass— he had refused to let you carry anything no matter how much you insisted— and started to set up.

“I was hoping you’d like it,” he grunted, spreading out the blanket and gesturing for you to sit down as he started to unpack the picnic basket. “I was planning this for the other day when it rained and we stayed in and…”

Steve trailed off, his cheeks threatening to go red as he remembered what you did instead of a picnic that day. He couldn’t deny that he thought about it often— that he thought about touching you over and over again because there was nothing better than that feeling you gave each other. But nothing much had happened since then, mainly due to lack of time— you just recently had to deal with Bucky finding out, but now that that was over, you’d have more than enough time. You both felt like the fact that that situation was over called for celebration, and you knew just how you’d celebrate.

Luckily, you had been distracted by a flower poking out by the tree Steve set up the blanket next to, and you wouldn’t poke fun at him or make him any more hot and bothered than he already was just from thinking of that night.

“For you,” you stood in front of him, tucking the flower right at his ear. “Aw, Steve. You look so soft.”

As soft as someone like Steve could look. It was funny— you watched him consistently and he constantly switched between looking like this scary macho man to becoming the softest Golden Retriever puppy when he looked at you. Your chest swelled with pride at this hunk of a man you’d managed to get. Nothing screamed Alpha dog more than Steve Rogers and while manliness wasn’t your top priority, you liked knowing that you were with a man when you were with Steve. So many people would die to get to know him on a personal level, but it was just your luck that you were actually able to.

Steve grinned, fiddling with the stem of the flower behind his ears for a moment before settling down and opening up the picnic basket. He pulled out all the food, along with a bottle of sparkling rose and two wine glasses for the both of you. You sunk down to the blanket, sitting on your knees and marveling at the miniature feast before you. Steve was constantly putting in the effort and making it look so effortless, and you couldn’t help but watch everything he was doing with a smile glued to your lips.

“Not too early for a drink, is it?” Steve asked, tilting his head up to the sky, glistening with sun.

“Never too early,” you grinned mischievously, biting down on your lip as you watched Steve pour two glasses of rose.

He handed you yours and then raised his own, and you reached forward to clink the glass in a toast.

“To us,” Steve said, and you nodded in agreement.

“To us.”

You took a sip of your drink and sighed in satisfaction, smacking your lips. Looking at Steve in front of you felt like such a sight to see. Your heart swelled as you took in your surroundings—the beautiful woods around you and the picnic Steve had somehow put together without your knowledge. And Steve was looking at you just the same way. You were so unaware of your beauty, nonchalantly leaning back, your skin glistening in the sunlight.

You humphed, wanting to be closer, and practically crawled over to him. Steve’s eyes lowered as he watched you approach him, then settle into his lap with your legs on either side of his thick legs. The faintest grin appeared on his lips as you slung your arms around his neck lazily, holding the glass of wine between your fingers in one hand behind him.

“You really did all this for me, huh?” you asked, letting a finger trail along his chin, prickly from the beard he was growing.

He bit down on his lip, his hand traveling to grasp your wrist softly and keep your hands touching his face, coming down to cup his chin.

“I hope you love it,” he replied, and you giggled.

“Are you kidding? We have to go out here again before I leave,” you decided then and there.

You still had loads of time left with Steve, and luckily there was so much you had yet to do together.

“I promise we will.”

“Steve,” you sighed out his name, leaning in closer to him. “I’m so happy here.”

You kissed his lips, a sweet and full lipped kiss that left both of you wanting more. Your lips tasted like cherry flavored gloss and rose. You giggled to yourself at the way that Steve leaned in, searching for more when you pulled away. His voice was low and soft,

“I’m happy you’re happy.”

You both laughed quietly and Steve pulled you in for a kiss, his hand on the back of your neck making you lurch forward as he led you with his lips.

Your tongue slipped in against the roof of his warm, firm mouth. His grip on your neck got stronger, his hand drifting down to the nape of your neck and squeezing just right, eliciting a lush moan from you. The touch of your body in such close proximity to him combined with the vibrations your moans made in his mouth got him hard. Like a reflex, he shifted his hips upward, pressing the outline of his hard length into the white cotton underwear that was exposed when you fit your legs around him.

“Mmh,” you whimpered when you felt him. You unlatched your saccharine lips from his, which tasted faintly like rose, and threw your head back only slightly, which urged him to lurch forward and press his lips to the exposed skin there, all sunkissed and warm. You grabbed at his hair. “Fuck, Steve.”

“We haven’t even eaten,” you realized aloud, a giggle bubbling up in your throat that became a moan as Steve purposefully nudged his knee against your clothed clit again, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves easily underneath the fabric that hid it.

“No, not yet,” Steve shot back in a suggestive tone, and you raised a brow.

“Steve, are you trying to tell me something?” you teased him, choking on your words halfway through because Steve was practically making you ride his thigh, rocking your body back and forth between his erection and his thighs after you slid down his knee.

Every movement he made, he did it with ease, bringing you closer to climax just by rocking against you. He could feel every contraction your pussy made against the outline of his erection as you squirmed and bucked your hips and rolled into him. Any logical thought process had left your mind— here you were, riding Steve’s thigh in the middle of the morning during what was supposed to be a sweet picnic in the woods. He had you gripped close to him, so even with all your squirming there was no way you were going to be able to move away from him, not with how strong his arms were.

He didn’t seem to notice, but this was just another way he asserted that nonchalant dominance over you that you died for. His hands fit perfectly around the small of your back, keeping you in place. He kept suckling at your chin and occassionally leaving tiny love bites on your neck as you rolled your hips euphorically. The slow, tantalizing pace he kept you at only drove you closer to your impending orgasm, the friction between his body and your own unbearable.

Steve had this unbelievable control over you while you helplessly, wordlessly rode his thigh, brushing up against his dick every now and then. And to think you were doing this in such a beautiful outdoor surrounding, removed far enough from others that no one would walk up on you. The silence was filled with restless panting from you as your orgasm drew closer, and the ambience of wilderness - the birds chirping, the greenery scuffling in the breezes of wind that drew past.

“Gonna come, princess?” Steve whispered hotly into your ear, reaching his fingers down and feeling the wet mark that had formed in your underwear, pressing against your throbbing clit.

“Mm, mhm,” you groaned, arching your back as your hips rolled in tune with his fingers. You came with a shuddered moan, soaking your own panties as your climax coursed through your veins. Your whole body seemed to shake, only stabilizing once Steve dug his fingers into your hips to ground you again.

You stayed there for a moment, still grinding your hips against his and kissing him, holding him tight against you until you pulled away and pushed him back, still straddling him. He was laying on his back and marveling at the sight of you on top of him as you began to kiss him, your lips leading the way down against his toned body where they’d soon reach the place you wanted your mouth the most. How desperately you wanted your lips against those muscles, kissing there and really being able to feel him. You could feel Steve’s heart pounding when you layered kisses on his chest, and he was glad you couldn’t hear the thoughts in his head because they were positively swarming with nerves.

“There’s- oh,” Steve groaned when your lips reached his v-line, unsure of how he was still even able to talk with the way that his voice felt so constricted. “There’s still food-”

“Just relax,” you interrupted, and he accepted without argument, throwing his head back and letting you do the work.

| | |

Today, Steve was out at work until further notice, but he made up for it by ordering breakfast for you, accompanied by a lovely note that he left on the kitchen table that morning.

Had to go in today. Promise me you won’t miss me too much. Be back soon.

- Steve Rogers

The note had made you chuckle—he was such an old man, signing his first and last name like you were colleagues and you didn’t give him the best head of his life just a few days ago. With each passing day you were growing more and more used to each other, more comfortable with expressing intimacy and acting like… well, a couple. It was just, you hadn’t exactly given what you had a title. And while you thought about labels off and on, you weren’t rushing. Steve probably thought about it much more than you did—even though he was adapting to this modern world and the products of modernity (ie: cam girls), he was still traditional in a sense.

He didn’t want to string you along in a weird, titleless relationship. And while he knew that what you had didn’t need a title because of its unconventionality and the fact that you truly liked each other, he knew he’d feel a whole lot more secure when he could call you his girl, and have it be official. So he was brooding on it, because he knew that you didn’t want to rush things either, and in the back of his mind he knew you’d probably be fine going through these two weeks without an “official” title, but he decided the time for a conversation was due soon.

Though right now, he decided he’d take it easy, leave the harder conversations for later. He had something he wanted to show you. Now that you both seemed to have settled down, he wanted to take you out as much as he could. At least, while keeping a low profile.

You had only spent a few hours alone when Steve came home through the front door. You sauntered over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek when you saw him. He kissed you back, wrapping one arm around your waist.

“Hey!” you chimed.

“Hi,” Steve grinned, smiling down at you with that very same look in his eyes— it was funny, neither of you seemed to notice how infatuated you looked when you set your gaze upon each other, but you always noticed it on each other. “How was your day? Didn’t miss me too much, did you?”

You smirked, placing a hand on his chest,

“Maybe a little. Maybe.”

“Well, I missed you,” he grinned, his voice getting softer. He nodded towards the open door behind him. “Get dressed, I wanna take you someplace.”

“Ooh,” chills ran down your spine again at the prospect of Steve taking you out again—and again, you got that feeling of appreciation for the fact that he was planning things for you. The way Steve treated you felt like the difference between someone saying “if you want!” versus actually taking the lead. It was all part of your growth, but you liked feeling wanted. “Where are we going?”

“Well, it’s a place near my childhood home where I used to come just to sit and think and draw sometimes. Great view of the sunset. You down?”

“Always.”

You got dressed in a simple white crop top with a skirt, and followed Steve out the door into his car. The whole ride there, you had your head out the window, letting the evening breeze rush across your face.

“Here we are,” Steve pulled up to a vacant and vast parking lot.

You looked ahead of you, and lo and behold, the sunset was right in front of you. It seemed to be reaching for you, seemed to feel so close even though you knew it was light years away—now you had the sudden urge to ask Steve how far he’d flown on missions. Did he go up into space? Was his job like the real life Star Wars? These questions were all at a loss when you saw the hues of the sunset ahead of you, rich, deep purples and flaming orange-reds.

“This is so beautiful,” you sighed out in awe, Steve glancing between you and the sunset in front of him— to him, he had two amazing views. “You used to just come here as a kid?”

“Yeah. It was the parking lot to a factory building that’s out of business now. But Bucky and I, and a couple of other friends used to sit here… on the nights when it was peaceful. Then, things got too crazy to just sit and watch the sunset,” Steve chuckled, shaking his head as a nostalgic smirk tugged at his lips.

You glanced over at him, blinking slowly,

“I bet it was really nice.”

“It was,” Steve nodded. “One of the times I didn’t feel so alone. I used to just come here and draw.”

You perked up at Steve mentioning his drawing,

“My little artist!”

“Little?” Steve chortled, and you shoved his chest.

“Just pretend. I’m glad you’re getting back into drawing though. Think you’ll show me someday?” you cocked your head to the side, biting down on your lip, unintentionally trapping him with an irresistible puppy dog face.

“Anything, darling,” he grinned.

“Maybe you can paint me like one of your French girls one day,” you suggested, snorting at your own joke.

Steve shook his head,

“I wouldn’t be able to do you justice. It’s been a while since I’ve really drawn.”

You rolled your eyes, propping your elbow up on the dashboard and leaning your chin into your palm, facing him,

“Didn’t you win awards for drawing, Steve?”

Steve scoffed playfully,

“What, did you go on my Wikipedia?”

“Maybe so,” you beamed proudly. “Anyways. Any reason to be naked in front of you is a good reason. You could draw a stick figure of me for all I care.”

“Speaking of naked,” Steve choked out— even though you were adjusting to each other, your boldness still caught Steve off guard sometimes, “you haven’t been doing cam shows since you’ve been here.”

You nodded,

“Yeah, I told them I’m on vacation. But I have a bunch of videos and other cute things to tide them over while I’m gone. God, it’s so weird. They have no idea.”

Steve milled your words over in his mind. It was so strange to think that lots of people on the very site that you both met had had intimate moments with you. And while he knew what you two had was real and raw, and so different, he still wondered how you felt about all the other people that watched you, all the other people that were almost as mesmerized as Steve was.

“Lots of people love you on there,” Steve noted, and you shrugged.

“Yeah, you can say that. I mean, lots of guys wanna fuck me. Some of them really are my friends, you know? People who’ve been watching since I started— it’s hard not to build a bond with them. I mean, it’s kind of part of my job to build a bond with them,” you explained.

Steve nodded, taking in all your words. He knew that this was a job to you, that you had connections with other viewers and that he shouldn’t feel insecure about that. He didn’t feel insecure. But really hearing it was still something he had to swallow hard.

“But, it was different with you, Steve,” you continued without hesitation. “I mean, I talk to so many people there a day. None like you. So don’t be jealous, big guy.”

Steve chuckled softly, though his eyes were trained fondly on his lap,

“I’m not, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” you teased him, poking his cheek. He looked up at you, an amused grin on his face. “‘Cuz I think you’re a little bit jealous!”

“When they fly you out and get to watch the sunset with you, then I can be jealous. But for now… I think I’m good,” he squinted and you grinned, looking from his lips to his eyes.

“Touche,” you noted, and kissed him on the cheek, abandoning the banter for the slow hum of jazz music on Steve’s stereo and the following murmurs of admiration for the sunset you both uttered over the next hour before driving home while it was getting dark.

When you got home, you were racing towards Steve’s cabinets and practically raiding them for liquor. On the car ride home you had begun excitedly babbling about spending a relaxing night in with Steve and making “a date” of it. You were dead set on making a glass of wine and dancing around the kitchen like you would do with your friends back at home.

“Slow down,” Steve laughed, grabbing a bottle of unopened wine from your hands and holding it high above your head so you couldn’t reach.

You whined, standing up on your tippy toes as you tried to reach for the bottle.

“Steve, what the fuck!”

“Where are your manners? You know better,” Steve smirked at you, and you folded your arms and glared up at him despite the rush of warmth his words gave you.

“I wanna drink. You haven’t even opened any of your alcohol, you old man,” you teased him and he rolled his eyes, slightly pushing up against you until your back was pressed against the kitchen counter.

“Very funny,” he replied.

You squinted at him, trying to read his face.

“What’re you doin’?” you asked, your voice laden with suspicion.

Steve was closer to you than he’d been the whole day, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel like it was getting a little bit hot in the kitchen. You wondered if he was doing this intentionally or if he was just so attractive to you that everything he did made you want to jump his bones (in the purest way possible). But that was no longer a question when Steve finally spoke, his voice a few octaves lower than normal, the husky timbre sending a shiver down your spine.

“I’ll give you what you want, if you give me what I want,” he put it simply, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“And what exactly do you want?”

“You know what I want,” Steve smiled back, shaking his head and putting his hands on your waist, kissing you softly on your lips, then traveling down to your neck.

You let your head roll back for easy access, and let your arms drape down his back.

“When’d you decide to start shit, Steve,” you wondered aloud, but you weren’t complaining, you were just used to initiating things, and you weren’t used to Steve being this bold.

He looked you in the eyes as if asking for permission,

“I just felt like these past few days have been a bit different. We both want each other, right?”

“Of course I want you,” you reached up to stroke his cheek, smiling at how wholesome he was. You even leaned in to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. “You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Okay. So let me do my job,” Steve replied, effectively shutting you up.

He lifted you up by the hips and set you on the counter behind you. It felt like everything in the room was all starting to blend together, that was just the effect that Steve’s touch had on you. You wanted him on you everywhere, you were overpowered by his scent and his strong hands on your body. His lips were here, then there, hitting all the right spots on your neck and your collarbone.

“Can I take this off?” Steve asked, gesturing to your white crop top.

You nodded silently, watching Steve as he pulled off your top for you, then you pulled him in for a hot, passionate kiss that told him how much you wanted this right now. When he pulled away he looked down at the basic white bra you were wearing and whispered under his breath,

“Beautiful.”

“Take yours off too,” you almost whined, thinking of the way his back muscles would look flexing when he went down on you.

Steve chuckled quietly,

“Sure, doll.”

“Wait, let me,” you decided, leaning in and taking his shirt off, your fingertips brushing against his sides as you took his shirt off, giving him goosebumps.

Despite his burst in confidence since you got home, he was still in awe of you. And anyways, he really wanted to return the favor from the picnic. He’d been thinking about it in the days following, and now felt like the perfect time to return the favor. Or maybe he was just looking for a reason to go down on you again—not that he needed one.

“Fuck, you look so good,” you swore under your breath just watching Steve make his way down your body, worshipping every inch of your smooth skin.

“I could say the same,” Steve replied, just as turned on as you were, making his way down your stomach.

The hairs on your body stood up at the feeling of his plush, pink lips against your skin, getting closer and closer to that part of you that needed him so badly. You were throbbing already and he hadn’t even touched you there yet. You were wearing a skirt, which he pulled down with ease, and you didn’t fail to catch the satisfied grin on his face at how easily your clothes fell off. Less hassle for the both of you.

“For being so kind,” Steve said suddenly, reaching behind himself and placing the bottle of unopened wine beside you.

You hooted in celebration, clapping your hands once and snatching the bottle from beside you, thanking Steve before twisting the bottle open and throwing back a big swig.

Steve was kissing around your inner thighs now, leaving little love bites here and there that made you yelp out, taking your lips away from the wine bottle.

“Imagine the look on my viewers faces when they see the bruises you’re leaving on me,” you joked, and Steve shrugged.

“Good. They’ll know you’re mine.”

Your heart skipped a beat— Steve was suddenly so confident. You liked it.

“Thought you said you weren’t jealous,” you cooed, leaning back and pressing your palms against the counter, looking down at him.

“Not at all,” Steve replied calmly, and whatever you were going to say then was silenced when Steve pulled down your underwear, a rush of cold air hitting your bare flesh. He moaned at the sight of it, licked his lips like he was looking at his favorite food. “So wet already?”

You nodded with a slight pout, wanting Steve to give you what you needed now. But something told you it wasn’t your turn to speak, and that Steve was in charge tonight.

“Good girl,” Steve praised you, pressing his lips against your clit and leaving a soft, wet kiss there that made your legs twitch. Steve chuckled deviously and even though your brows furrowed at his cockiness, you didn’t say anything— you couldn’t act like you wanted him to stop being cocky.

“Baby,” you breathed out, bringing your hand down to run through his perfect hair, ruffling it a bit.

“Here, let me make you feel good,” was the last thing Steve said before diving in, his tongue drawing an intricate pattern against your folds and on your clit, sending the little bundle of nerves into complete ecstasy.

“Fuck,” you whined, taking another swig of your drink—you had no complaints right now.

Steve knew exactly what to do with it, just as he had the last time, and that was his very first time going down on you. The more Steve got to taste you, the more he wanted. He could see himself doing this for hours, making you cum over and over again until he really got his fix. He was probably just as, if not, more turned on than you were in the moment. His pants were bulged in the center, and he was burning up even without a shirt on.

“Mm, you taste so good,” Steve groaned the one moment he let his lips detach from your clit and your lips. “So wet for me.”

You moaned in response, unable to string any real words together because Steve was doing too good at his job. For a man who claimed he didn’t have much experience, he was the best you’d ever had. It was no surprise that your legs were already starting to shake when he added his fingers into the mix, rubbing soft circles against your clit and letting his tongue slide inside of you, fucking you deep with his tongue. You couldn’t help but grasp onto his hair tightly, your nails clawing into his scalp like crazy.

Steve’s name fell effortlessly from your lips, which were drenched with red wine.

“Fuck, Steve, I’m-I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come!” you exclaimed as if you were shocked by the prospect— your orgasm was coming up fast and hard. “Don’t stop.”

It felt like the breath was getting snatched from your chest as he kept up, moaning against you and roughly rubbing your clit.

He kept your legs spread with his other hand, stopping you from crushing his head with your legs, but you kept on tugging at his hair, which made Steve grunt in pleasure.

You tried and failed to lift the bottle of wine to your lips, your hands were shaking far too much. Steve was pulling this orgasm from you like it was nothing to him, putting all his concentration on making you feel good. You let go, and let yourself come on his face and tongue just like he had been hoping you would. While you were coming, he kept his fingers at your clit and pulled his lips away with a pop, savoring the taste of you as he licked his lips slowly.

“There you go, there you go,” he encouraged you, only making you come even more. You couldn’t speak, only gasp out and let out strangled moans as you rode out your high, your entire body twitching. “It’s okay, baby.”

Steve was cooing to you now, his entire demeanor had shifted— now he was puppy dog Steve again. He had his hand on your thigh to steady you, kissing your knee gently and caressing your body. Soon enough his fingers left your clit and soon enough, you came back to normal. Your heavy breathing and trembling had subsided and you were just sitting there blissed out. Your eyelids were heavy with tiredness, like Steve had worked you out.

“Steveee,” you groaned tiredly, a dazed smile spreading across your lips.

Steve kissed gently up and down your inner thighs, calming your shaky body with every touch. He stood up with a pleased grin, licked his lips, and patted your thigh.

“Okay. Time to get you up,” he declared, and you hurriedly took another swig from the bottle before stretching your arms around Steve’s neck.

He chuckled to himself and picked you up, letting you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“Hey!” you exclaimed when you noticed his boner against you. “You’re hard.”

“And you’re tired,” Steve replied, glancing up into your eyes.

You put on your best puppy dog eyes, trying to grind against his thigh.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t get you off,” you practically whined, and Steve smirked, but shook his head.

“Make it up to me in the morning,” he peeled you off of him and set you into the bed, pulling the covers up and over your body.

“Fine,” you grumbled, turning over on your side. “Only ‘cuz I am tired.”

“I know, I must’ve worn you out,” Steve retorted proudly, and you scoffed.

“Keep dreaming,” you sighed, closing your eyes and almost immediately drifting into sleep.

| | |

The next morning, the first thing you noticed was that your pants were missing, and then you remembered exactly why. Even in the midst of sleep, a smile appeared on your lips. Steve had been so kind and loving to you every day since you got here, but especially so in the past few days. The remnants of last night between your thighs only served as another reminder. Last night was a blur, a glimpse into a more confident Steve who initiated the things that you both yearned for.

You didn’t know how much more obvious you could be, but he still seemed to question the very concept that he was even with you. You were working to reassure him that he deserved you, and he was proving it more day by day. The sexual chemistry between the two of you was off the charts from the beginning, but now it was becoming more natural, more reciprocated.

Even though Steve wasn’t in bed next to you, you pranced around that morning fueled off the memory of last night. You got dressed and soon found yourself leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, ready to return the favor. Steve was elsewhere in the house, so you called his name.

“Yeah?” Steve replied, and you could hear him shuffling about the house, finding his way to your voice.

He paused in the doorway when he saw you, and a devious grin appeared on your face. Steve was unaware of your intentions, but he smiled back because you were. You tiptoed over to him, and put your hands on his shoulders, eyeing him like he was candy.

“I was just thinking… I should return the favor,” you shrugged innocuously, leaning in for a short kiss and pulling away despite his lips begging for more.

“Return the favor?” Steve asked in response.

His face looked clueless, but by the quirk in his voice you could tell he knew exactly what you meant.

“From last night?” you crooned, dropping slowly to your knees in front of him and giving him those eyes— those fuck me eyes that he couldn’t ever resist. If he didn’t have any self control, he’d have lugged you up off the floor and bent you over by now, never mind returning the favor.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, doll,” Steve cocked his head to the side, a devious edge creeping into his tone.

You pouted, furrowing your eyebrows in doubt, palming him through the grey sweats that worked you into a frenzy every time he wore them.

“Really?” you retorted, feeling him get harder the more your hand brushed against him. “This seems to say something different.”

“Jesus,” Steve shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “When’d things get so… good?”

“You tell me, babe. You were the one giving me head completely unprompted on the kitchen counter last night. I mean, have you no shame?” you poked sarcastically at him, because you weren’t complaining at all, you just weren’t used to Steve being so bold.

“‘M only gonna have you for two weeks,” Steve murmured, his jaw ticking involuntarily as he glared down at you through eyes that were growing heavier by the minute. “I wanna make sure I can still remember how you taste when you leave.”

Now, you were usually the one making Steve blush, but now it was your turn, heat rising up your cheeks and making you look away inadvertently.

“Hey,” Steve used his fingers to gently lift your chin up so you were looking at him. “I wanna be able to see your face. You’re beautiful.”

“Steve, you’re sweet. But don’t go being all cute, I’m about to have your dick in my mouth,” you snorted, wasting no time and pulling down his sweats.

Your hands, soft and delicate, ran down his thighs, the barely-there touch making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. You bit down on your lip, eyeing his length through his boxers, and put your lips around the tip, which was already leaking precum through the dark fabric. You looked up at Steve, who was already in shambles, his eyes clenched closed and his head leaning back against the wall. It was clear to you that, even though Steve took you by surprise last night, you were still the one in control, and you loved knowing you could have such an effect on him.

“Feel good?” you asked in a hushed, sweet voice, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

Steve sucked in a breath when your lips left him, and grunted in response. You took that as your sign to get on with it, and pulled his boxers down, his cock meeting the cold air and standing erect in front of your face. His tip, dripping with arousal, was red and swollen, practically begging to be put between your lips. You giggled, a devious glint flashing in your eyes as you inched your head forward, taking his cock in your mouth, just plump glossy lips around the tip and your tongue just barely teasing the shaft. His dick throbbed in your mouth as soon as you got a taste of him on your palate, salty and bittersweet, a taste you knew you would never be able to get enough of since the day you’d finally gotten a try.

Steve opened his eyes and lowered his head slowly to look down at you. You had your cheeks sucked in and your lips puckered around the tip, the perfect little image on your knees in front of the captain.

You managed as best a smile as you could without letting your lips leave his tip, and Steve smiled back, a wolfish grin that was more mischievous than his usual golden retriever beam. You fluttered your lashes up at him almost comically and received a chuckle from him in response. He shook his head slowly, playfully, and you took him further into your mouth, keeping his entire length lodged in the back of your throat, tightly constricted around him like a snake.

The entire room was quiet except for the sound of you gagging around his cock, which pulsated in the back of your throat and even threatened to finish quickly— despite all his endurance, you gave Steve a run for his money. Steve couldn’t even deny it himself— he had to stop himself from coming down your throat because you were just so good, but it was so early on. The feeling of your throat and mouth wrapped tightly around him felt like a warm glove or even a sweet hug.

You tested both your limits by swallowing while he was practically trapped in your throat, the sound it made incredibly obscene. Steve groaned loudly, his deep, gruff moan echoing in your ears like a lovely choir. You let go and started bobbing your head up and down, your lips wrapped around him tight, tongue brushing the underside of his shaft. He shuddered, then moaned, sucking in a deep breath with his eyes trained on you. Your eyes flickered down at what you were doing, focusing on the way he disappeared inside your mouth. You even raised your hands up to stroke what you couldn’t take in your mouth, though you devoted yourself to taking all of him because you were just that good. But Steve lowered his hands and softly pushed yours away, shaking his head. His voice was unusually low even for someone as gruff as him when he said,

“No hands. And look at me when you’re sucking me off.”

You looked up at him almost immediately and nodded quickly, brows furrowing in the middle as your puppy dog eyes turned on inadvertently. You liked how much more confident Steve was becoming day by day. He had no shame in telling you what to do and wasn’t nervous about how you’d react anymore. You had your hands practically pinned behind your back as you bobbed your head at a consistent, steady pace, spit drooling from the corners of your mouth and onto him. He sighed out in contentment as he looked down at you, unafraid to get messy and perfect at your job.

He ran his hands through his hair, raising his eyebrows at you as if he was in disbelief. And a part of him still was— though he got more and more comfortable with you every day, your inner and outer beauty and glow would always remain fresh to him. He would never get used to you, never get bored of you. He had never had much luck with love, and, to put it quite bluntly, the fact that a beautiful girl like yourself was on your knees for him was quite unusual for him.

“Fuck, you’re good at this,” the apple in his throat bounced as he swallowed hard, then he clenched his jaw tight, staring down at you in deep concentration.

Duh, you wanted to reply, but you had to remind yourself it was rude to talk with your mouth full. You just gazed up at him with smiling eyes, slurping from the shaft to the tip, then taking his balls into your mouth, switching from sucking on them to licking beneath his shaft. Each time you shifted between one or the other, he moaned deeply, the sound reverberating in your stomach and triggering slick between your legs. You dared to venture your hand between your thighs and touch yourself, gently gliding your fingers from the dripping slit to your throbbing clit. Steve groaned as he watched you get yourself off while you got him off, inching a few steps forward, his dick sliding against your deft tongue.

“You look so good, doll,” he said, his voice just barely above a whisper.

You offered him a small smile, spit mixed with his arousal dripping down your chin. You spit on his cock, then got back to work and put your lips all the way around him again. You got back to bobbing your head up and down and Steve swore he was going to lose his mind at the sight of you playing with yourself and sucking him off so eagerly. You were so good at everything you did, but especially this, and so effortlessly hot. He almost forgot you had just woken up. He chuckled devilishly and smirked down at you.

“You do love doing that, don’t you?” he asked.

You nodded and batted your lashes, hollowing your cheeks out and making sure to pucker your lips hard around his lip.

“Mm hm,” you moaned around him in response.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he muttered under his breath, gazing into your eyes and earning another slight smile from you.

You let your eyes flutter closed as you worked Steve to the end, and Steve’s eyelids fell too, his hands balling into fists and his chest rising and falling heavily as you did your job.

“Yes, that’s it, you’re so goddamn good, you’re gonna make me come, baby,” Steve’s voice grew lower and deeper as you drew his orgasm closer and closer, and you grew more sloppy and untamed with your mouth around him as you slurped away. You could tell he was going to come the way he was pulsing inside your mouth, and the way his groans grew less inhibited the longer you sucked him off. He even started to stutter, his teeth grit as he started to come, shooting ropes of his cum down your warm throat, “Fu-fuck, that’s… yes, yes, YN, I’m coming.”

You kept sucking until he was done, which drove him crazy, and even after, you still kept your lips closed around the base, only departing when you were ready. You loved the taste of him, and wanted to keep him on your lips forever, but sadly you knew that’d be impossible. But like Steve, whenever you got the chance to have him, you’d have him. Even now, when you’d just woken up not twenty minutes ago. When you finally pulled away, Steve had gathered himself. You grinned at him, beaming even, looking so innocent and angelic despite the fact that you were on your knees with Steve’s dripping cock in front of you and spit running down your chin.

“How was it?!”

Steve just laughed, shaking his head and pulling his sweats back up.

“How was it?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t think I have the words for it, doll.”

Steve, polite as always, helped you up off your knees, and pulled you close to him, grabbing you by the hips, kissing you on the lips.

“That’s fair!” you shrugged, giddy from the sweet gesture. “You coming so hard was evidence enough.”

You teased him, bopping his nose with your finger, and he shook his head and rolled his eyes playfully at you.

“What can I say, you’re a natural,” he played along, then suddenly lifted you up and threw you over his shoulder, parading through the house with you as if you were a ragdoll.

“Steve!” you cried, flailing your arms against his back and laughing raucously. “Asshole, put me down!”

“Oh no, we’re gonna make breakfast like this,” Steve denied you, shaking his head with a mischievous smile.

“I just ate,” you snorted, and Steve’s hand landed on your ass in response.

“Don’t be nasty,” he teased you, and you sighed,

“Steve, you prude.”

The rest of that morning was spent making breakfast and listening to music. Or more like, burning all the pancakes, spilling the egg whip and blasting the radio, forcing Steve to listen to “new age” music that he didn’t understand, but he endured it because you loved it. (“It’s Megan Thee Stallion, not Megan The Stallion.”) You danced and laughed and sang with him, but by the time you ran out of flour (because a majority of it ended up on your face, and then Steve’s face as revenge), you really hadn’t succeeded at making anything, and it was lunchtime by then, so you just decided you would go out instead.

Steve didn’t seem to mind going to a more populated place this afternoon. You figured it was because perhaps he had loosened up a bit this morning after your little surprise gift. That still didn’t stop him from wearing a cap and fake glasses, which surprisingly disguised him quite well. Although, in the car ride over to the restaurant Steve was taking you to, you couldn’t help but ask,

“Why the cap and glasses though? Isn’t it a little, I don’t know, rookie for someone like you? I guess I always expected your disguises to be top class, like prosthetics and all that.”

“They can be. But trust me, it’s easier to deceive than it looks. And besides, if I’m out with my girl, I don’t want to look like a whole different person. I wanna look like me.”

There it was again, that sweet phrase of his— “my girl.” You made a soft cooing noise and tilted your head over to him, a pleased smile set on your sweet lips.

“My girl,” you repeated, laying your head on his bicep as he turned down the road where the restaurant was.

He glanced over at you and grinned down at you, loving the feeling of your head against him and the sound of your airy voice.

“Don’t you forget it.”

“Okay, baby,” you cooed again, your heart practically soaring with how content you were, biting down on your lip to restrain a goofy smile.

He had to do the same, a pink blush spreading to his cheeks at the sound of your voice and the pet name.

He parked soon after, opening the door for you as usual. He got a table for the two of you in the back of the restaurant beside of a big window. It was a fancier restaurant, bustling with people, light jazz playing on the speakers.

“You always bring me to the cutest little places,” you grinned softly at him, leaning close to him at the table.

Steve grinned back at how close you were to him, the way you leaned in as if to close space between you, talking to him like you were telling a secret just for you and him. He clasped his hands together and shrugged nonchalantly, like his heart wasn’t swelling from the compliment.

“I got a lot more to show you, doll,” he replied. “So much to do and such little time.”

“I know! It’s been about a week, hasn’t it?” you beamed, your cheeks rounding out when you leaned your head against your palm. You glanced out the window with a distracted smile on your lips. You laughed goofily. “I don’t know. I haven’t been keeping track of the days.”

“That sounds about right,” Steve said, wistful eyes gazing at your face, the afternoon sun glinting on your side profile.

You looked so angelic in this moment, and you weren’t even trying to look divine. Steve was silent for a moment, and you looked back at him to see that he was just staring at you with lovey dovey eyes. You laughed, shaking your head.

“What?” you giggled. “Earth to Steve.”

“You just look so pretty,” Steve replied casually.

“Aww, you too, lover boy,” you teased him, reaching across the table to squeeze his cheek playfully.

A waiter approached you and began to serve you. You ordered a mimosa to start, very typical of you, and Steve stuck with water. When the drinks came you slurped eagerly at the mimosa and Steve shook his head playfully, laughing at the sight of you drinking greedily. You looked up from the bottomless depths of your glass and raised a brow.

“What?” you asked cluelessly. “It’s good!”

“I bet. You college girls and your drinking,” Steve poked fun at you.

“I’m a college grad,” you corrected him, pointing a finger at him.

“Close enough,” Steve shrugged.

“Steve, you perv,” you smirked, folding your arms and slouching back in the booth. “You just like me ‘cuz I’m young and hot.”

“That’s part of it,” he admitted.

You fake gasped.

“Steve, you devil!” you leaned in close to his face and narrowed your eyes at him, biting down softly on your lips. Your voice was low and crooning, a fiery look in your hooded eyes. “You have a thing for the age difference, don’t you?”

Even though you were only kidding with him, your close proximity, the subject matter and your tone of voice had Steve shifting in his seat and clasping his hands together in his lap, clenching down on his jaw. His face was getting warm and he wished more than anything that you were alone together in this moment, because then he would—

“I’m… not interrupting anything am I?” the waiter returned with a pen and pad, ready to take your orders.

You slunk back instantly, an all too innocent smile on your face, perking your head up to look over at the waiter,

“Not at all. We’re ready to order!”

Halfway through the lunch, you had gone through a few mimosas and you were starting to get giggly and cutesy. Steve found it adorable. He’d never seen you in such a state, and you were somehow more bubbly and fun than normally.

“You don’t drink much,” you mentioned to Steve with a slight frown, eyes squinted and lids heavy from the drowsiness that the alcohol was setting in.

“Nah,” Steve smiled. “Doesn’t do anything for me. I mean, I’ll drink, but I can’t get drunk.”

“Hmm. Guess being a superhero has its ups and downs,” you chirped happily, burping a little bit afterwards.

Steve laughed, handing you a napkin for the bit of alcohol that was sitting at the corner of your lips.

“Superhero,” he repeated your own words, chuckling and shaking his head as if in doubt.

“What?!” you cried. “You’re a superhero, a-” you shushed yourself, remembering that you were in public, then whispered, “an Avenger.”

“Me? I’m just your average Joe.”

“You say potato, I say potato,” you shrugged, rolling your eyes drunkenly. “You say you can’t get drunk… I would like to test that theory some day.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head again,

“I got a feeling you were a wild child.”

“Oh yeah,” you said sarcastically, nodding. “Yeah, I was a real handful. Going out surfing and hiking every weekend of high school like a ne'er-do-well.”

Steve chortled at your drunken sense of humor. You were sarcastic enough, the mimosas just turned it on ten. He didn’t even mind that you were drunk in front of him right now— it let him feel reassured that you were comfortable enough with him to do this. After all, every day you were getting past all the niceties.

“A true rebel,” Steve replied, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh huh,” you took a forkful of salad into your mouth, chewing and swallowing. “My parents had a looot on their plate.”

Steve suddenly shifted, remembering what you had said about your parents. There hadn’t been much of an update since the last time you’d talked to Steve about them.

“Right, your parents. How’s that going? Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“Steve,” you squeezed his cheek. “It’s alright, I guess. We haven’t talked much since the incident, but… we’ve talked. I mean, it sucks that things went down the way they did, but at least I’m not hiding much from them anymore. I mean, besides this. But, them supporting my career is… cute.”

“Cute?” Steve smirked at your choice of words, and you hiccuped, smiling dazedly.

“I mean, nice. I don’t know, I’m drunk,” you giggled. You settled in, sighing and folding your hands on the table, fiddling with your fingers. “I just… I told them I need my space, you know? I don’t even really wanna have some big conversation. I feel like it’s like, whatever, you know? We move on and I move on, try to make the best of what we have of our relationship, for the remainder of time we have left together. That’s all I really have the mental and emotional energy left for, to be honest. I mean, we’re getting old. Them especially. But right now, I don’t wanna think about them. Or talk to them. Right now I wanna be with you.”

You finished your little soliloquy with a grin, gazing at Steve with friendly eyes. Steve nodded, understanding every word. He’d always be there for you when it came to your family matters, or anything you were going through. But he was glad you were taking this route. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, not be so stressed about everything the way you used to be.

He’d only been with you in person for a short amount of time, but he knew your habits, he knew your character— you thought maybe even better than your parents did. And for that, you were eternally grateful. Steve wasn’t just a lover, he was a friend. Someone you felt you could trust and give your all to.

“I understand,” Steve nodded. “I wanna be with you, too.”

He reached out and squeezed your hand, stopping you from your half nervous, half mimosa induced fidgeting. You perked up again, a big grin on your face,

“Yay! We should dance now.”

Steve scoffed,

“Yeah, this is where I get the check. We gotta get you home.”

No matter how much you fought it then, by the time Steve was carrying you from the car to his apartment, you were more than happy to be back home. He sat you down on the bed where you took a long nap, and spent the rest of the day indoors with Steve, crossing more and more modern day movies off his little bucket list. No matter how you spent the day, it was always good. And Steve treated you oh-so-right, no matter whether you were drunk or sober.

| | |

“You feel so fucking good,” Steve practically whimpered into your ear.

Right now, Steve was buried to the hilt inside you from behind you, spoonfucking you and stretching you out almost offensively from this delicious new angle. You’d suggested it to him that morning when you woke up to Steve’s hard on against your ass, rolling your head over sleepily and casually asking him, “wanna take me like this right now?” If anything could wake Steve up so quick, it was that question. He loved the accessibility. He barely had to move to get inside you where he was quickly realizing he belonged. Any way he could be close to you, sexually or otherwise, was ideal for him.

His thrusts were soft but firm and deep, his girthy, long length allowing him to hit every spot that he needed to hit. You were both delirious from morning fog and the euphoric sensations you were sharing together, like on a thick cord of energy that was impenetrable. Steve felt so deep inside you, deeper than the first time, deeper than your mouth could take him. You were rocking back and forth each time he fucked into you at that sweet, steady pace. He wasn’t wasting any time with you, but he was taking his time all the same.

His breath was warm on your neck, coming and going in heavy pants, and your breath was winding out along with the ever-pleased moans Steve drew from you.

“Fu-uck, baby just like that,” you groaned, hardly able to open your eyes until he hit a spot so right inside you that you had to crane your neck because you wanted to look at him.

He opened his eyes a bit wider when he saw you, and locked eyes with you. The very sight of your face had him throbbing inside of you, stretching your walls out impossibly further. He slammed his hips up into you, and you whined at the hard, pleasing sensation, your brows furrowing in the middle.

Steve looked down at where your bodies met, absolutely enamoured by the sight of him disappearing in and out of you, his favorite place. Your chest and stomach began to surge with that familiar, burning feeling, and you couldn’t help the warbled moan that came out of you. The eye contact combined with the feeling of Steve rocking his hips steadily into you was so deliciously overwhelming, you thought you had never been so turned on in your life. No one had given it to you this good.

So early in the morning, Steve was ready for you, and you’d been going for a while, the time filling with endless cycles of him making you cum on his cock over and over, no end in sight. He held back every time he was going to come because he wanted to cherish this time with you. So close and so intimate, the light of dawn tickling the morning sky outside.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve moaned, and you nodded— you had been more than sated in the long period of time you’d been fucking.

“Come inside me,” you prompted him, reaching your hand over to stroke his cheek. “Keep looking at me, baby.”

Steve gazed deep in your eyes, fighting the urge to look down at what he was doing. There was nothing more personal than this right now, looking into your fucked out, glazed over eyes while he rode out his orgasm, coming inside you until he was sure he had nothing left in his entire body. Even after he came, egged on by the sounds of you cooing words of encouragement, telling him how you wanted him to stuff you and fill you up, he kept rocking his hips up into you, slowly and softly, even lovingly.

“Make sure it’s all in there,” he kissed your sweaty neck and you stretched it out, facing away from him and burying your cheek in the pillow, still feeling his thick length inside you, stuffing all his come deep inside you.

Even then, there was so much that when he pulled out, some of it leaked out of you and onto the bed sheets, spread out on your pussy. He used his fingers to slick it all up, then reached over your shoulder and pressed gently to open your mouth, inviting you to suck the cum off his fingers. You did it eagerly, savoring the taste of him on your tongue. And then you both laid there for a while in silence, you still recovering and laying on your side, Steve pulling you into him so you could lay the back of your head on his outstretched arms while he lay on his back.

“That was disgusting, in the best way imaginable,” you breathed, a pleased, hazy smile on your face, turning to face him. “Again?”

“Again?” Steve laughed, shaking his head and looking over at you, surprise laden in his ocean blue eyes. He had no problem going again, it was you he was concerned for. He ran his hands through his hair, shaking his head and nearly biting down on his lip at just the thought of going rounds. “I’m not gonna go easy on you, you do know that right?”

“You call that taking it easy? I came like…” you drifted off, not able to keep track.

“Five times. I counted,” Steve answered proudly.

You chortled at his prideful demeanor. Steve could be such a different person in the bedroom, and you were absolutely not against it. It was kind of cute how cocky he could get, and it was lovely seeing him blossom like a flower and get more and more physically confident with you.

“Yeah… I think we should just cuddle for now,” you decided, not able to fathom what Steve might do to you if you actually followed through with your delusional suggestion. Steve was silent but his face said it all. You playfully shoved his face. “Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“What smirk?” he asked faux innocently.

“Shut up,” you giggled, cuddling in closer to him and practically coiling up next to him.

He put his arms around you instinctively. It felt like he was wrapping you in a sheath of protection.

“You’re so warm,” he noted, kissing the top of your head.

“It’s that Cali weather stuck on me,” you decided quietly, letting your eyes close.

“You’re like that Katy Perry song,” Steve noted, and you laughed to yourself. He glanced down, brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re getting more modern by the day.”

Steve laughed with you, and in the silence that followed, the thoughts he’d pushed away earlier that week started to flood his mind. Labels, officiality. The idea of the conversation gave him plenty of nerves at first, and he’d been brooding on it. But these past few days, you’d grown so close, almost unexpectedly. You were close from the start, but now topics like these felt a bit easier to approach. You got much closer physically and emotionally in the course of a few days. He still didn’t want you to feel rushed, but this felt like quite a comfortable, languid moment to bring this up. The light was poking through the blinds in just the perfect manner, and you looked so delicate and content laying on his arm, nuzzled into his chest like that.

The room was quiet and fuzzy with the aftermath of what you’d done, but the energy couldn’t be purer. It was like soft music was playing over the silence that wasn’t quite silent at all.

“You awake?” Steve asked, fixating down at you.

“Mm hm,” you hummed, your eyes still closed. You were extremely relaxed and cozy in this moment, your mind and body wrapped up in Steve’s snug arms.

“I’ve got something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” Steve’s fingers traced light strokes on your collarbones, soothing and gentle.

You eased even further into his touch, but poked one eye open, raising a curious brow,

“Good or bad?”

“Good,” Steve laughed quietly, fingers still gently caressing your supple skin. “Always good.”

“Okay, shoot,” you smiled, the apples of your cheeks turning upwards in that way Steve always noticed— there were so many small things about you that Steve absolutely died for.

“I’ve been thinking about us. And we haven’t spent a lot of time together, and this isn’t something I’m used to. I mean, I’m really kind of still new to all this.”

“Mm hm,” you hummed, the vibrations of your voice easing him.

“And, you know, I’m still a kinda traditional guy. I like to be sure that I’m treating you right. And I feel like part of that includes, you know, what I’d call you. Like… if I would call you labels.”

“Mm hmm,” you hummed again, looking up at him and making eye contact. “Be more specific.”

You were sure you understood what he meant, but you wanted crystal clear communication— even though you trusted Steve, it was just one of those things you had as a result of your past. A condition. And he understood that completely, another reason why you felt you could trust him. Plus, it was kind of nice to see Steve get his words out, this big strong man trying to figure out what to say to you, a simple, special girl. So special on your own, and so special to him, a kind of pleasant surprise to you.

“Say if I were to call you my girlfriend. I… I just find myself thinking about when the time is right to ask. Or if… if I should, at all. I don’t wanna go too fast, or-or pressure you into anything. And, a part of me realizes that we don’t need a title because, well, this isn’t a normal relationship and I get that you young people— for lack of a better word— don’t care much about labels anymore, which I respect. And I know you’re not looking to rush into anything too soon because of how you’ve been treated in the past but…” here, Steve almost got emotional, thinking of how special you were to him, unable to believe that you’d been treated so poorly in the past— all he wanted was to show you just how you made him feel. “But I just want to treat you right, and make you happy because well, you make me happy. And it’s… it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way. And I’m sure that for you and me both, these feelings are rare. And I can treat you the same regardless of whether or not we put a label on it, but… it’s just been on my mind.”

He continued,

“And I’m not asking anything of you right now. I just wanted to get it out there. I know how important it is to you that we communicate. And I wanted to be able to talk to you about it before I spring anything on you.”

You swallowed down everything he was saying, and even you were getting a bit emotional. He had said so much, and everything he said had resonated so heavily. He truly cared about you, and to even bring this up in this way showed how much he understood that you needed your own personal time and space.

As much as you liked Steve, and wanted to pursue something, anything with him that was good for your emotional and mental health, you still highly valued communication and your time. It was just how you were structured, it was how time and your life experiences had built you. And you understood what he was saying.

Right now, you still weren’t even sure what you wanted. You just knew that you liked this, even though it felt like a commitment. He’d flown you out after all. He really wanted to see you and be with you, and the same went for you. But you didn’t get the vibes that he was forcing you to commit or that he expected anything from you because of your amazingly unique circumstances. It would just make sense to put a label or be official… but all the same, it would make sense to just keep things playing out and enjoy your time together.

That didn’t have to mean you were just fooling around, because you got the feeling that you both took each other quite seriously in the relationship area of life, exclusive or not. And it had been on your mind as well, but you were just living in the moment.

You finally replied, a small smile on your face, placing a consoling hand on Steve’s chest,

“Thank you, Stevie. Really, it means the most to me, you coming to me like this. And everything you’re saying makes complete sense to me.” You gave him a short, sweet kiss on his jawline. “And honestly, I can tell you were still a little nervous to bring this up to me. But there’s no reason for you to be. I want you, there’s no doubt about that. And I really respect your traditional tendencies. And I feel like even though we’ve only known each other in person for so long, we’ve been talking for quite some time. I feel like I know you well.”

“So do I,” Steve grinned, almost letting out a sigh of relief as he listened to your words.

“And I really am open for anything. I think, these days though, I’m just trying to live in the present. I’m gonna be with you, whether I’m officially your girlfriend or not. I’m not obsessed with labels right now, and neither are you. Being asked officially would just be a nice little perk to what we already have. So I’m not in a rush. But I’m also not at all against it. I’d love to call myself your girlfriend one day. It’s our call.”

Steve nodded, grinning stupidly to himself. To hear those words was so reassuring. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, and he was glad you felt the way you did, though he wouldn’t have been upset if you felt any other way. He just wanted to be with you, the same way you just wanted to be with him. You were comfortable enough with each other not to feel like you needed to rush into anything exclusive, and also comfortable enough to be able to put a label on what you had and move on accordingly.

“Our call. I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah? Me too,” you agreed— unity over one person wearing the pants in your relationship.

If and when the time did come that Steve should ask you to be his girlfriend, you would be happy for the day—ecstatic, even. But you were comfortable enough in your own skin to just keep on living through the days. And the days with him were quite wonderful.

No rush, just serenity.

AHHHHHHHH!!!

it’s been done

i hope y’all loved that :)))

tbh i think this series is gonna have 20-25 parts, 30 max. ion want it to get too crazy! there is an end in sight, but fear not, there is a lot to go <3

*tags added later*

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applesaucify · 8 months ago

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various gifs of jim from jim’s computer with bad quality :3

#roblox #jim’s computer #jims computer #jims computer roblox #jim’s computer roblox #leafy says random stuff

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tossawary · 4 years ago

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Chapter 24: “Seeing is Believing” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” random favorite lines and commentary. Not a full list or full commentary, but longer commentary than usual to talk about quest construction.

AN: This was... a weird chapter to write. When I started outlining, I had... the conversation with Shen Qingqiu planned... the conversation with Shen Yuan planned... the fact that SQH, SY, LQG, and LFL was the quest party... and the fact that they get the Eye at the end of it. That was everything.

The entire rest of this chapter came together FRIDAY LAST WEEK.

Huan Hua Palace wasn’t going to be there. The Weeper didn’t exist. The Eye or its previous owner wasn’t at all connected to the Garden Master. The Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders didn’t exist. The murder plant didn’t exist. The mysterious monster showing up at the end wasn’t originally planned either.

I mean, I had a lot of pre-existing plot threads to tie in and weave with, but ohhh boy! Picture someone lying facedown on a floor like, “I forgot to plan the contents of the super important quest...”

I was originally going to have the Eye quest a lot simpler, but given the weight “Death of the Author” had when I finally reached this part of the story, that wasn’t really going to do! It had to be bigger than that! It needed oomph! This also felt like a good opportunity to really establish the new SQH-SY dynamic. To explore SY fumbling to find a place in this world without strict character role, especially in relation to settled and well-supported SQH.

“One attempts to remain dignified,” Shen Qingqiu agrees. “As there is little point in kicking and screaming about how such ignobility isn’t fair.”

“Ha! Is there ever?”

“Not in my experience.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely not cute when I do it,” Shang Qinghua jokes.

Shen Qingqiu’s lips actually twitch at that.

Success?!

AN: I wasn’t going into this fic with the intention of writing any Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu almost friendship! But it started developing and it seemed a shame not to explore Shang Qinghua developing a real relationship with Shen Qingqiu (though not a particularly close one) when the man is suppose to be the scum villain (and the readers know that the man might get replaced by Shen Yuan).

I can see myself writing more Shang Qinghua and Original Shen Qingqiu content in the future. Someone dropped a particularly nice prompt for them in my inbox that I’m looking forward to exploring at some point.

(I mean, not to say that Shang Qinghua has a type, but Shang Qinghua has a type and it’s handsome, deadly, intimidating, frosty men with a villainous character design and trust/abandonment and communication issues. I could make it work.)

“Ah, well, two ‘ideal’ situations come to mind: severing the personal relationship for good… or, ah, talking about how to do better and trying that. You don’t have to forget or even forgive if you don’t want to! But, ah… there’s got to be a difference between totally swallowing your anger and cutting ties forever, right?” Shang Qinghua says awkwardly. “If there’s… ever going to be anything good afterwards…”

Shen Qingqiu stares at him for a sweat-inducing length of time.

“Ah, fuck,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

“Sorry,” he says. “Ahhh, I’m just… thinking about something someone told me… in… in regards to some of my own problems. Never mind! Never mind!”

AN: Luo Jiahui really is out here making Moshang and Qijiu get their fucking act together just by setting a better example.

“Shizun, my apologies for the interruption, but I came to ask Shizun if he would be willing to join our music lesson today? The disciples have missed his playing and are eager to present their improvements.”

“...Very well, unless anyone here would disagree…?” Shen Qingqiu looks directly at the Qian Cao Peak cultivator, as though daring her to object and die.

“It’s an excellent suggestion!” the Qian Cao Peak cultivator says quickly.

The young woman smiles. “And perhaps Shizun could sit in on the calligraphy lesson afterwards? In order to offer his opinion on my progress as a teacher?”

“Fishing for compliments is unbecoming,” Shen Qingqiu says dryly.

“Wait, what?” Shang Qinghua thinks.

AN: So, this has all been happening in the background, but Shen Qingqiu accepted this House of Rejuvenation woman onto his Peak about... 6-ish years ago now? This is kind of meant to parallel Shang Qinghua’s once-secret relationship with Luo Jiahui.

Shang Qinghua was out here trying to be a better person and Shen Qingqiu noticed; now Shen Qingqiu has his own positive (platonic) relationship with a nameless background character who was meant to die for plot reasons. What a thing, huh? If the story was saved because Shang Qinghua started a domino effect of saving random people who went on to change things?

After all, as Shang Qinghua said to the kid, besides Peerless Cucumber’s apparent talent for cultivation, he knows that his fellow transmigrator has three very important skills that will serve him well on An Ding Peak! 1) An encyclopedia knowledge for even seemingly pointless bullshit (which is kind of flattering, honestly). 2) The willingness to fight total strangers over seemingly pointless bullshit. And 3) a sharp enough tongue to win.

Peerless Cucumber didn’t find these points as funny as Shang Qinghua did.

AN: Shen Yuan was always going to end up on An Ding Peak. I thought about sending him to Qing Jing or Qian Cao or Qiong Ding... or any other Peak... but that would take him too far away from Shang Qinghua to really explore their relationship and to move him around conveniently in the story. And SY sticking to An Ding seemed to best illustrate the fact that SY is lost and doesn’t know what to do except cling to SQH.

“It’s not much, sure, but it’s yours,” Shang Qinghua says finally. “You’ll be joining the talisman classes soon, so don’t try anything from a book and then need to request some home repairs.”

Peerless Cucumber nods and puts his stack of manuals down on the table.

“How’s your tutorial mission going?”

“Fine,” the kid says shortly. “Have you found anything for the other one yet?”

“Ah, not yet.”

AN: “Are you winning, son?” meme energy here.

Ah, now Shang Qinghua recognizes his fellow transmigrator’s expression! That’s the same stunned expression one of his Huan Hua not-disciples, Yu Chaonan, made upon meeting the Bai Zhan Peak War God for the first time. Shang Qinghua assumes that Peerless Cucumber was expecting a man who looked more like a musclebound giant and less like a pop idol (if one with amazingly muscular arms), which is a super common and never-not-funny misconception people have about Liu Qingge.

“Brother of one of the most beautiful women in this world, bro,” Shang Qinghua reminds his fellow transmigrator, amused. Aha! Now Peerless Cucumber’s vehement disinterest in the harem stuff is making even more sense than before!

Shang Qinghua’s assumption gets 100% confirmed when it comes time for Peerless Cucumber to fly with Liu Qingge for the next leg of the journey. The other transmigrator is so embarrassed and awkward about it that Shang Qinghua’s super direct brother-in-law asks if the young man is alright.

AN: This was so fun to write. Shang Qinghua really can use the Liu siblings to gauge people’s sexual/romantic orientation.

The map (or rather, the copy Shang Qinghua made of the delicate original map) takes them to a green and grey landscape of leafy trees crawling over a wide network of tall cliffs and deep gorges. Gurgling rivers cut through twisting rock formations. Shang Qinghua can’t see any of these rivers on the map. Or these deathly drop ravines. From the outside, the whole thing looks like a natural maze (holy shit, there could be so many monsters and death-traps in there!), and Shang Qinghua would know those golden robes flying low over the hanging trees anywhere.

“Huan Hua,” Liu Qingge mutters.

“Do you think they’re looking for what we’re looking for?” Luo Fanli asks.

“That’s usually how it goes,” Peerless Cucumber says, before Shang Qinghua can.

AN: I came up with the skeleton idea first. Then I was like... “I should give it three eyes.” And then I was like... “But who IS this dead author? A god? A spirit? What grander implications am I spinning here?”

And THEN I remembered that I had some ambiguous powerful being force the Garden Master into exile due to a flood. This was because, in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the immortal man Gilgamesh meets in the abyss is the survivor of a great flood. So I was like, “Reduce! Re-use! Recycle! There’s my skeleton!”

So I wanted to relate the skeleton to water because of the flood angle. Water as a symbol of cleansing/reincarnation is a big thing throughout many cultures. I can’t remember exactly how the crying aspect came up, but I knew there was going to be water in the temple now, so at some point my brain like was, “Bro, this skeleton should totally be crying because mythology vibes.”

So I built the surrounding land off the idea that there was water flowing from or around this temple. At this point, I had decided that Huan Hua Palace should also be looking for this artifact, so I had to come up with a way to hide the temple, yet have a way for SQH’s party to track it down.

The damage to the doors is worse: someone once upon a time collapsed a part of the cliff face around the entrance, essentially leaving only the top fourth of the utterly smashed stone doors visible. It’s a wall now and has been for ages. It looks like it would take days to dig through the rubble. Someone has even super helpfully carved, “These doors will never open again,” just above the wreck.

“Guess we’ll have to go in as intruders rather than guests!” Luo Fanli says.

“What would be welcoming us inside a lost temple exactly?” Shang Qinghua asks vaguely, inwardly cursing the fact that explosive mining techniques will definitely attract the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators’ attention and also probably collapse the whole cliff on them.

“We only have to clear a passage for us, not the whole door,” Peerless Cucumber says optimistically. “Is there a special technique for this kind of thing?”

“Aha, not really.”

“Oh.”

“Why don’t we just keep following the water?” Luo Fanli says.

“...How so?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Some of those waterfalls could be passages inside,” Liu Qingge explains, because he and the little sister-in-law apparently share the same brain. He’s already eyeing the waterfall wearing down the giant statue on the left.

AN: Temples in quests need to have traps and obstacles and monsters! Well, not ALL of the did, but this one did. I based the obstacles they faced as much as I could around the whole “Death of the Author” theme, while using this whole quest to explore Shen Yuan, Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua, Shang Qinghua and Liu Qingge and Luo Fanli, and so on.

The idea here with the door is that the “author” is not going to let them inside the temple to take the interpretation of the narrative (the Eye) for themselves. The story is over (the temple is closed for business)! The author is dead! If they want to get inside, they have to break inside or slip inside as intruders.

This also creates a convenient obstacle to hold up the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators so that our party can be nearly caught later! And shows off Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge, and Luo Fanli’s twisty lines of thinking.

Luo Fanli is holding the light and Shang Qinghua passes the other transmigrator to her, while accepting Liu Qingge’s hand for help getting out of the water.

“Ahhh, that was fun,” Shang Qinghua mutters.

Then he notices that Liu Qingge has the Cheng Luan sword out and ready. Shang Qinghua looks through the surrounding darkness, but all he can see are columns and water. For a moment, he thinks he sees something, a prowling shadow at the other end of the cavernous room, but he wipes the water out of his eyes and it’s gone.

AN: The water in Shang Qinghua’s eyes briefly lets him see a flash of the invisible monsters who show up later! It helps up the tension.

Another low growl rips through the darkness and Peerless Cucumber shuffles a little closer to Shang Qinghua. Because that sounded really fucking close and yet Shang Qinghua still can’t see the thing that’s making that sound.

He doesn’t see Liu Qingge lunge at him either. He only feels his brother-in-law shove him into Peerless Cucumber, knocking them into the water, out of the way of something that howls when Liu Qingge slashes at it with his sword. Shang Qinghua rolls off Peerless Cucumber and looks up just in time to see dark blood splatter across the watery floor. Liu Qingge pursues the attacker with a second slash, but only seems to meet thin air this time.

“It’s invisible!” Luo Fanli cries. “Fuck!”

“Behind you!” Liu Qingge snaps, and spins to slash at the thin air beside him. Dark droplets of blood hit the water again and something hisses at him.

Luo Fanli whirls and slashes, searching for an opponent.

“They’re reflected in the water!” Liu Qingge yells at her, standing guard over Shang Qinghua as he gets to his feet again. “Listen for their footsteps and vocalizations! Feel the demonic energy and air displacement!”

AN: I got this from a list of Dungeons and Dragons puzzles. The idea is that there’s some puzzle that must be solved, but the truth of the room can only be seen in the reflection of the nearby water (or mirror or whatever).

Which felt fitting for a “Death of the Author” quest! Whatever an author’s intentions, the story is what they actually wrote, so the audience interprets a text without the context of the author’s insight. The truth (of the story) is in the reflection (audience interpretation)! It felt like a fun idea.

It also allows Shen Yuan to actually contribute to the quest via monster lore and bring up his impaired vision problem. And to confront Shen Yuan with the reality of this world. And to show off Luo Fanli’s fighting skills. And to show off LIU QINGGE’S legendary fighting skills, instincts as a warrior who fights many dangerous beasts, and the fact that he’s clever and observant!

Liu Qingge is good at what he does! And this is what he does!

Someone has… angrily… or desperately… carved a lopsided message into the wall.

“‘If I go blind, so does the world,’” Peerless Cucumber reads.

“...That’s probably not good,” Shang Qinghua says.

“Nooo…” Fanli agrees.

The messages continue as they climb, carved into the walls, the ceilings, the floors. Most of it is illegible. Some of it is just nonsense. Some of it looks like the same kind of historical records carved into the broken tablets. Some of it looks like someone attacked the walls after reading what was written there. There are deep gouges in the walls and cracked marks that would match a giant’s hands.

“‘The water cleans the lies,’” Peerless Cucumber reads. “‘I am the only one who can see.’ ‘Lies everywhere, lies everywhere, lies everywhere.’ ‘The water cleans the evil.’ ‘I do not have enough tears.’ ‘Everything is nothing now. Everything in vain.’”

“You really don’t need to read them!” Shang Qinghua tells the kid. “It’s fine. It's totally fine.”

AN: This is mostly here to up the tension, but it’s also here to try and give insight into this being and relate them more to the “Death of the Author” and the “Seeing is Believing” themes.

I also saw the phrase “If I go blind, so does the world” while I was browsing a list of riddles for D&D campaigns and I was like, “THAT’S SICK, I’M USING THAT.” Really brings the “an eye for an eye” and vengeance vibes. (The riddle was longer than that one phrase, but the answer was “the sun”.)

The top of the temple reveals one massive room that looks like someone was alternatively scratching their insanity into the walls and tearing chunks out of the interior design with their bare hands. Overtop of the rubble is that eerie overgrowth. There’s a fine layer of water over the floor. At the center of it all is an incredibly enormous desk, cracked in half, with a robed skeleton sitting behind it, slumped over the top. It’s a little too large to be an ordinary human.

Plus, its skull is a little too long, probably to accommodate the third eye socket in the forehead. There’s something gleaming softly yellow in the third eye socket.

“Is… there water dripping from its eyes?” Luo Fanli whispers.

“It looks like it…” Peerless Cucumber whispers back. “Like it's crying…?”

“Still…? Is it dead or not?”

“Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua thinks, slightly nauseated. “System, bro, the worst bro I’ve ever known, tell me that we have not been swimming in a three-eyed skeleton’s magical undead tears or something this whole time.”

The shitty, no-good System stays unsurprisingly silent.

AN: Okay, so the idea here is that this being was someone who recorded history and shared their knowledge freely. This being had the ability to discern the truth of a person - they were extremely perceptive. (The Weeper is either female or doesn’t have a gender, by the way.)

The Weeper met the Garden Master at some point. The Garden Master was an asshole, a liar, arrogant, etc.. The Weeper and the Garden Master clashed badly, until the Weeper sent the cleansing flood that nearly destroyed the sect and the Garden Master essentially had to flee to a personal abyss.

The Garden Master sent the plant as a final “fuck you” to the Weeper. The plant caused the Weeper to slowly go mad. The smashed tablets and destroyed temple are the Weeper’s work. The Weeper (not in a great state of mind) had the temple closed themselves once they realized they and their work had been corrupted. This was a “you destroy my (embellished) reputation, I destroy yours (and your entire life)” plot by the Garden Master.

The idea behind the tears is the whole “water is cleansing” thing. The Weeper tried to clean away the madness using their magical water-related abilities... and it actually worked for a long time. But eventually the madness began to overpower the effects of the magical water. The Weeper’s tears are from frustration and helplessness at losing control.

The water inside the temple combats the plant’s physical effects. Also stabbing the root killed the plant and essentially broke its mental/spiritual powers.

Unfortunately, to get the fuck out of here, they have to go back through the temple. But hey! That’s still a lot better than an extended hike through an underground, haunted desert in darkness! The battle with the now-dead plant caused its growth to writhe around the temple. The vines need to be hacked through sometimes as they travel down through the rooms of broken shelves and shattered tablets.

“So much history lost…” Peerless Cucumber murmurs.

“He still thinks of himself as a reader - an observer, a visitor, separate from the flow of fate.”

AN: This is... absolutely based on the Heart from the Dishonored franchise. But this sort of item didn’t originate with Dishonored and I need it! It’s a surprise/mystery tool that will help us later!

The Eye isn’t exactly a mind-reading object. I mean, it kind of is, but it works in a very specific way that I’m looking forward to getting into.

From there, their path back out of the natural maze is even more careful and stressful than before, now that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators are actively looking for them rather than the temple. It’s slow-going and stressful and silent, except for when the Weeper’s Eye presses too close against his chest.

“He is afraid that if he starts screaming, he will never stop,” it tells him, when he’s looking at a pale-faced Peerless Cucumber, as they fly over a particularly deathly-looking drop.

“Oh, me too, bro!” Shang Qinghua thinks. “Seriously! Tell me something I don’t know!”

AN: Having Shang Qinghua be totally unimpressed by an object like this was very funny to me. He’s the author! He’s a transmigrator! He knows these people well! He already has insight into their situations.

Shang Qinghua groans, but supposes that Peerless Cucumber would have at least been disguising Liu Qingge from the back. “You tell them that you were tracking thieves who stole something from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect,” he says quickly. “Rule of embarrassment! Admitting something that makes us look bad to a rival makes it sound true. Don’t tell them what was stolen and act really offended if they try to poke into Cang Qiong business. I’ll come back as soon as I get these two out!”

Liu Qingge nods and launches forward into the fight.

“We’re just leaving him?” Peerless Cucumber says, as they do exactly that.

“I’ll get changed and come back ‘looking for him for urgent sect business’ as soon as I’ve dropped you two off in the last town,” Shang Qinghua says. “I’m really good at acting stressed and confused, and at desperately needing an unstoppable wandering Liu Qingge back at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect immediately. Now let’s go! Let’s go! Mission isn’t over yet!”

AN: Shang Qinghua is, at heart, a liar. I love him.

#tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #pride is not the word #tossawary commentary

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a-storm-of-roses · 3 years ago

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Autumn is Soup Season, Baby

Hello - I've said before and will say again, I am obsessed with autumn. And one of my favorite parts of the cooler weather (in the Northen hemisphere at least) is soups! I love a soup, I love a stew!

Thought I would share my fave recipes, all vegetarian (and can be made vegan). If you have any go-to's for fall, please share!

Spiced Chickpea Stew with Coconut and Turmeric

Also known as 'The Stew' this has become a fast fave of mine - love a chickpea, and this is a great way to use up random leafy greens! Can also add carrots! (I know not everyone can access NYTimes, happy to send the recipe through in message).

Green Curry Lentil Soup

Yes to all the legumes! And sweet potatoes! This uses a thai curry paste as a base, and it adds such great flavor. About to try making this was squash for the first time this week!

Minestrone

I mean there's obviously a thousand minestrone recipes out there, but I like this one, because it gives you a lot of veggie options. This is my let's clear the fridge out recipe - it's easy to sub in whatever veg you have and a great way to get rid of the stuff that's starting to wilt or get a bit squidgy.

Spicy Black Bean Soup

I love beans! Seriously! This soup is also stupid easy to make, but I do play around with it. Sometimes I leave out the carrot and celery, sometimes I add a can of chopped tomatoes. I will also recommend the world's easiest black bean soup recipe, which is to just... blend some black beans and salsa! And heat it up! Delicious, full of protein, and easy.

Hope you enjoy and pls send soup recipes!

PS - I am aware that Bon Appetit has come under a lot of fire for racism and discrimination - I actually have this recipe saved in a google doc so I avoid the website, happy to send it through in a message. And similarly I know that Alison Roman has also come under fire for appropriation of her recipes.

#autumn foods #soups #and stews #i clearly love beans #a lot #send soup pls #not mcshep #or sga #sorry

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loving-jack-kelly · 4 years ago

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Hi!

So I saw the post about how Matt should have chemical scarring (you're RIGHT and you should SAY IT) but I wanted to ask a kinda funky question since I can't get my hands on the comics and Thot you might have some Thots.

Do you think that since his body operates on a Whole Other Level, his diet should be like. Whack? Like it's REASONABLE, but just SO MANY CALORIES or having to load up on like dark leafy greens or take supplements to get enough like, iron or vitamins and stuff?

Just a funky meta question, but I'm curious as to your thoughts on it 👀

i literally always have Thots ajhgsjhfgjs you were right

i feel like Matt’s diet is probably like. fairly normal? his powers didn’t give him like, superstrength or anything, it’s just his senses in overdrive. HOWEVER 1) he’s definitely super picky but probably in weird ways. it’s comics canon that he doesn’t like junk food because of all the chemicals, but I’ll bet he’d go out of his way to buy as much stuff organic as possible. like sometimes I can taste chemicals on apples and stuff if I don’t wash them well enough, and I’ll bet that’s like, ten times worse for Matt. 2) he’s like ridiculously active. he’d definitely burning more calories than like 99% of the population so he’s probably always hungry. this is totally random but i just started reading the mysterious benedict society again and the way number two is constantly eating to keep her energy up is probably something Matt would do, too. he’ll be sitting there just like. munching on organic kale chips all day long to make up for the calorie loss of staying up all night getting into fistfights lmao

#daredevil #matt murdock #Anonymous

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teacupfulofstarshine · 5 years ago

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living in the real world (ain’t it fun) CHAPTER 5

cw: panic attack, mild angst, brief nonspecific mention of car crash/injury mention

word count: 2721

chapter one // chapter two // chapter three // chapter four // read it on ao3!!

“This . . . is a problem I hadn’t considered,” Thomas says, squinting at his car. It’s a small model, built to seat a maximum of five, so the amount of people won’t be an issue. It’s the existence of the people that poses a threat.

“It makes sense logically,” Logan says, even though his hands tighten white-knuckled around the straps of his backpack. “We cannot be seen or heard by other people, but they can feel us when they touch us. Additionally, things that we touch do not immediately become imperceivable, with the exception of the clothes in which we manifested. If we use the seat belts installed in your car, someone may happen to glance into the backseat and realize that the belts are buckled with no one there.”

“But we’ll be there,” Patton argues. “We will be in the car, and we are not riding without seatbelts! What if Thomas gets into an accident?”

“Thomas is a safe and cautious driver. The likelihood of an accident is minuscule,” Logan says. “Also, we are not real. I doubt that a car crash would seriously impact us.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Patton says, shoulders pushed back, a challenge in his voice. “If we get into an accident and one of us gets hurt? What if it hurts Thomas? We already know that if one of us gets hurt, everyone else can feel it. What happens if you break your arm, or your leg, or your neck? Will that injury translate to Thomas?”

Logan flinches, and Thomas steps in between them. Patton’s face is starting to shine a strange red-and-purple combination, which Thomas interprets as angry and anxious. (Smad, his mind supplies, and he chances a quick glance in Roman’s direction to see him stifling a giggle. He knows where that thought came from, he supposes . . .)

“You both make good points,” Thomas says. “Patton’s right about the injuries, and Logan’s right about not letting you guys get spotted by other people.”

“So what do we do?” Logan asks. He’s staring very intensely at Thomas’s shoulder, rather than meeting his eyes.

“It’s not uncommon for people to seat belt stuff into their cars, right? If they’re worried about it breaking?” Thomas pulls the trunk open and lifts out the picnic basket and reusable shopping bag of Logan’s experiment supplies. “If you guys sit with your legs spread and put this stuff in between your legs, it could probably be reasonably argued that I’m just trying to keep stuff from spilling all over my backseat.”

“Genius,” Patton says, and his face glows a deep yellow with happiness and pride. “That’s perfect, kiddo!” He reaches up and ruffles Thomas’s hair. Thomas grins, leaning into the touch. Logan smiles at him, gently rocking back and forth in place, and Roman huffs out a soft laughing noise.

“Alright, guys, into the car,” Thomas says, pulling the door to his backseat open. “Go on!”

Patton and Roman insist on sandwiching Logan in the middle seat. “The smallest person goes in the middle so that the bigger ones can bracket them safely!” Patton insists.

“I am not that much smaller than you,” Logan grumbles, swatting at Patton’s shoulder. “I do not have to be in the middle! There is far too much human contact here for my liking.”

“It’s not that far, Logan,” Thomas says, turning the key in the ignition. “We’ll be fine, yeah?”

Logan continues to grumble, crossing his arms and hunching in on himself. Thomas very deliberately does not mention that Logan’s actions make him look even tinier than he already is. (It also makes him look more adorable.)

Normally, Thomas is a cautious driver; he’s not really in the habit of making extraneous payments to insurance or the hospital or the mechanic. Now, with three of his sides squished into the backseat and muttering to themselves (as though he can’t hear their every word ringing loud in his mind, they’re pieces of him, everything that they say is known to him even if he can’t directly hear it), he bites down on his lower lip and checks his mirror once, twice, three times.

“Are you actually gonna drive?” Roman asks, leaning forward and bumping his forehead against the headrest of the passenger seat. “Cause there wasn’t really a point in fighting about seat belts if we never actually go anywhere.”

“Hush, you!” Patton hisses, smacking his shoulder. Roman whines and slumps back against the seat, loudly complaining about his injury. Thomas just smiles and shakes his head; the barely-there sting of Patton’s smack is already fading off his left shoulder. It wasn’t a serious injury at all.

He takes a deep breath, shifts the car into reverse, and pulls out of the garage. Roman reaches up from the backseat and clicks the garage door opener to close it once they’re safely in the street, and Patton reaches forward to yank him back into the backseat. Thomas just shakes his head, wondering if this is what his parents dealt with when he and his brothers wouldn’t stop fighting in the backseat.

The nearest park is only five minutes away, but Thomas quickly realizes that that would be a bad idea, to put it mildly. That park is frequented by children, families, and couples almost constantly, and is almost always teeming with life. “Bad idea,” he mutters, pulling past the park. “I know I said it wouldn’t be very far, guys, but I think I’m gonna have to amend my previous statement. Is that okay?”

Logan makes a disgruntled noise, but when Thomas starts to put the car in park he shakes his head. “It will be fine, Thomas. I will endure what I must for the sake of science.”

“There’s another park that’s further away, but it’s old and abandoned. Lots of run-down fields, and it’s surrounded by an old forest. It’s probably haunted as -”

“Language,” Patton mutters preemptively.

“Heck,” Thomas finishes, “but that also means it’ll be empty. We can roam around freely.”

“Sounds good,” Patton says. “I think that’s gonna work out just fine! What do you think, kiddos?”

“Sounds good,” Roman says, pushing his hair back off his face. Logan just nods, and as though he thinks Thomas won’t catch it in the rearview mirror, he slides his hand between the seats and flashes a thumbs-up sign.

“Great,” Thomas says. He presses on the gas pedal and heads past the playground.

*~*~*~*~*

The road to the old park is narrow, two-laned, and framed on either side by trees. At night, especially in the winter, the road is incredibly creepy. The trees reach up like skeletal hands, and even now Thomas is perpetually petrified that one day, they’ll reach down and snatch his car off the road and throw it like a child with a broken toy.

He doesn’t have such fears in the summer, when the skeletal branches are wrapped in soft, leafy green shrouds. The sunlight dapples the pavement, and Thomas watches the way the patches of sunlight scatter across his dashboard as his car rolls down the road. “Roman,” Logan says, voice pained, “please refrain from distracting Thomas with flights of fancy while he is driving. What will happen if the car is run off the road?”

“I’m sorry!” Roman whines. “I can’t help it!”

“You can, and you will,” Logan mutters angrily. Patton makes a soft shushing noise to them, and Thomas flexes his fingers around the steering wheel. His gaze shifts from the pattern the sunlight makes to the other car approaching him along the opposite direction of the road. He steers a little farther away from the median line, towards the shoulder.

They pull into a rundown parking lot, macadam overrun with cracks and weeds. The car rattles over the uneven pavement, and Thomas winces as Roman smacks his head against the ceiling. “Are you guys okay back there?” he calls.

“Fine,” Roman mutters, rubbing his head. Something uneasy tingles in the back of Thomas’s mind. “Can we get out of the car now?”

Thomas slides neatly into a parking space that’s outlined by faded off-white paint. “We’re there.” Roman climbs out of the car without taking his assigned bag with him, leaving Logan to scoop it up while Patton deals with the picnic basket. Roman yawns and stretches backwards. Thomas hears an audible crack in his spine and feels a similar relief in his own back.

Logan slings the backpack over one shoulder and hoists Roman’s assigned bag over his other one. “You okay, Lo?”

“I am alright,” Logan says. “I will be sufficient to carry these things to the experimental site. It is not far.”

“How do you know that?”

“You have been to this park before, have you not?”

“I have . . .”

“I know that you have. I am your logical functioning, Thomas. I also encompass your memories. I was examining them in the car, and I have discovered a place that I think will be suitable for our purposes. We will not be disturbed, and we will not disturb others. It is rare that other people frequent this park, and I have selected an ideal spot.”

“You’re sure this will be okay?” Thomas says. Logan nods, flicking his hand up in a complicated sort of summoning gesture. Another blue light schema appears in front of him, displaying a random string of numbers that somehow makes no sense at all and perfect sense to Thomas.

“I have run the calculations, Thomas. We will be perfectly safe. We must go and begin the experiment now.”

Logan shifts the bags in his arms, and the schema disappears as he heads off across the park. Patton turns to Thomas, smiling. “You ready, kiddo?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Thomas sighs. He feels a tugging burn in the pit of his stomach, and he looks up to see that Roman has set off across the park. He’s getting farther and farther away, and Thomas quickly picks up the pace to try and catch him.

As he gets farther away from the car, closer to Roman and Logan, the tugging burning wrongwrongwrong feeling increases. He turns to see if Patton is lingering, but Patton is right next to him, bouncing along and humming the theme to a cartoon he’d been watching this morning. Thomas reaches the curb and almost shrieks when he tries to step up onto it. He’s running into the invisible wall again, just like last time, but he feels different.

It feels as though there is a fire lit in his stomach, licking up the sides and curling through his intestines and esophagus. He’s all but choking on the feeling of wrong wrong wrONG WRONG YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG SOMETHING IS WRONG YOU HAVE TO TURN BACK NOW YOU HAVE TO GO BACK -

Thomas stops, coughing and pressing a hand to his throat. “Thomas?” Patton asks, crouching next to Thomas (when had he knelt on the curb?) and placing his hand on his shoulder. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Something’s - something’s wrong -” he chokes out, clutching at his chest. “Logan - Roman - where, I - they can’t - they have to - please, please -”

“They’re coming,” Patton promises. “They’re coming back now, I'm calling them.” Thomas flicks his eyes up and barely manages to notice that Roman and Logan are pressing against the air like they’ve just run into a concrete wall. Patton flails his arms around, and they start coming back.

“Please -” Thomas chokes, and it feels like his fear has solidified into a golf ball and lodged itself into his throat. “Please -!”

Someone touches him, and Thomas flinches. “It’s okay,” Roman murmurs, and the hand on his shoulder begins to gently massage the back of his neck, where a tension knot is almost surely forming. “It’s okay, Thomas. Your prince in shining armor is here, and I promise that I will protect you.”

Another hand, this one gentler and cooler, on the side of his neck, moving to his forehead and his cheek. “Thomas, you are having a panic attack. You must breathe deeply with me.” Thomas stutters out a hyperventilated gasp, and Logan exhales.

“Thomas,” he says softly. “Please list five things that you can see for me, right now.”

Thomas gasps, and Logan presses his cool hand against his forehead. “Thomas,” he says. “Five things that you can see. I know it is difficult, but please try. This is a grounding technique that will prove beneficial.”

“Um - uh - I - wh - c - curb?”

“Good job. Four more. You can do this, Thomas.”

“P - pants.” His hands curl up and ball the fabric of his pants into fists.

“Three more.”

“Uh . . . uh . . . p - pavement.”

“Two more,” Logan says. His voice is shaking slightly, but his hand is steady and grounding on Thomas’s face. “You can do it, Thomas.”

“Sky,” Thomas manages, flicking his gaze up.

“One more,” Logan says. Thomas’s eyes skitter around the sky until they land on the branches framing the sky in his field of view.

“Th - the - I - tree.”

“Good job, Thomas. Excellent. Now, four things that you can feel. Tactile stimulation, not emotions.”

“Your hand,” Thomas manages. “On my forehead.”

“Good. Three more.”

Thomas manages to list three more things that he can feel (the wind in his hair, Roman’s hand on his shoulder, the rough surface of the macadam against his knees). He lists three things that he can hear (Logan’s voice, guiding him through the panic attack; birdsong in the trees; Patton’s worried breathing behind him). He lists two things that he can smell (the cologne Roman had spritzed on himself in the bathroom this morning; the picnic lunch that’s sitting next to Patton). He lists one thing that he can taste (the lingering taste of his toothpaste from this morning).

“Good job,” Logan says. The tremor in his voice is gone, if it was ever there to begin with. Thomas isn’t sure that it was real; he may have imagined it. “You have successfully made it through this panic attack.”

“What happened?” Roman asks. “Are you alright? We hit the distance limit wall, and we turned around and you were on the ground. What happened?”

“I - I’m not sure,” Thomas says. “I . . . one minute, I was fine, and then I saw you walking away, and . . . and suddenly it was like my heart was lodged in my throat and I couldn’t breathe. It was like, if I didn’t get you right next to me immediately, I was going to throw up or die or - I - I don’t know.”

“So now we know there are physical ramifications to our distance limit,” Logan says, pulling up his schema.

“And emotional,” Patton shudders. His eyes and freckles are fading from purple back to their normal cheerful brown. “I . . . I can’t quite explain it, kiddo, but there was some kind of emotional component to that breakdown you just had that - I don’t know who it was, but - but it wasn’t me. I felt it, but I wasn’t controlling it, you know? It felt like someone else seized control, and I was just being pulled along for the ride.”

“Who else could take control from you?” Thomas says. He’s still breathing a little too heavily for his own comfort, but Logan is patting a four-seven-eight on his thigh with his free hand. “Aren’t you the seat of all my emotions?”

“I’m your heart, Thomas. I’m at the core of a lot of your feelings, but not . . .”

“Anxiety!” Roman scowls. “That foul villain, he must be somewhere!”

“He cannot be here,” Logan says dismissively.

“And why not?”

“Because if he were here, he would have to abide by the same distance limitations as the rest of us. It is almost impossible for him to have followed us all this time without being seen.”

“I guess you’re right,” Roman grumbles.

“Shall we proceed with the experiment?” Logan says. His eyes gleam brightly, more than just the reflected light of his schema. “The more information I gather, the better handle we gain on the side effects of our presence in this world.”

“Let’s go, then,” Thomas says, pushing himself to his feet and pretending his knees aren’t shaking a little. “Knowledge is our most powerful weapon, right? Isn’t that a thing people say?”

Logan looks like he might combust from pride and joy. He settles for happy-stimming so vigorously he nearly falls off the curb.

#starshinewrites #living in the real world (ain't it fun)#ain't it fun!au #thomas sanders #platonic tlamp #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders

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masquerade-story · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1 - Moving In

"Whose dumb idea was it to go camping like this anyway?" Grey grumbled, smacking away a tree branch that seemed determined to get friendly with his face.

Walking behind him, his twin sister Lillian rolled her eyes and poked the small of her brother's back. "Yours. It was your idea."

"Oh please Crystal! Please oh please might we go live at the haunted house in the woods where we'll certainly perish! I, Dorian Grey Duvall, swear on my sister's honor to let you protect me!" Rayne fluttered her eyelashes, lowering her voice to sound more like Dorian. She yanked the handcart she was dragging over a set of roots, careful to steady its contents before resuming her walk.

"Has to swear on my honor cuz he doesn't have any of his own left after the last time," Lillian snickered, while Grey pointedly ignored their teasing and continued clearing the overgrown path.

Bringing up the rear with a digital camera trained on everyone's back, Crystal grinned and panned the camera to take in the large, dense trees, and huge, leafy bushes. "For a haunted forest, it's actually pretty nice here. Ah, more meadow rue! Specifically thalictrum rochebrunianum, neat."

"Gesundheit," Rayne said, eliciting giggles from the group.

"The lacy one over there with the purple flowers," Crystal clarified. "There's some rue anemone and meadow rue 'splendide' around here too. Don't touch the white flowery plant up ahead by the way, it's giant hogweed. The leaves and sap can give you phytophotodermatitis, making you blister up in the sun."

"Bro, how do you remember any of this? And as for you, you're a scary bitch," Grey cringed away from the plant in question while swearing at it, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at its pretty little flower clusters.

"I read a lot."

"Me too, doesn't mean I absorb any of it! I spent like six hours on Wikipedia the other day, don't even fully remember what I looked up."

"Was it about The Hobbit or Merlin? Cuz that's all you ever look up."

"Look, Lils. I know I'm walking in the front and all, but you don't need to stab me in the back like that. Also sometimes it's Pacific Rim, thank you very much."

"Was it Pacific Rim?"

"No it was The Hobbit."

The group talking and laughing were the self-proclaimed 'Fairy Rock' band Aos Sí Echtrae. Each of them wore a hiking backpack containing personal items, while Rayne also tugged along a sturdy handcart holding supplies and instruments with ease - a drum kit, harp, bouzouki, and keyboard piled up alongside some smaller instruments and the camping stuff Crystal insisted they bring along.

Though their banter was light-hearted and comfortable, they took their excursion very seriously. After all, they'd temporarily rented a locally infamous haunted house to use for a music video! It was a large investment, but they'd become popular online and had enough supporters that they were able to fulfill one of their member's dearest dreams.

Dorian Duvall, or Grey as he preferred to be called by friends, and his twin sister Lillian Duvall played bouzouki and keyboard respectively. Both had the same willowy stature, button nose and almond eye shape, but despite their similarities they both gave off very different impressions. Where Lillian looked soft and gentle, with large doe-like green eyes, and a kind smile, Grey had a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes and a roguish grin that he utilized with careless abandon. Lillian wore her sleek black hair long and loose, falling down past her waist and kept away from her face by a cloth headband, while Grey wore his hair in a high ponytail decorated with small braids.

As the one who absolutely loved haunted houses and anything spooky, it was Grey's idea to film on location for their new Halloween-themed album, Masquerade. Though it was the middle of July, they were hoping to get everything ready for an September promotional release before the album dropped in October, and so hurriedly set up for their video shoot in order to give themselves plenty of time for editing.

All four of them worked together to compose their music, write lyrics, and design stage costumes as well as fan merchandise. They also lacked anything resembling a lead vocalist, taking turns depending on what sound worked best with each song, and preferring harmonies rather than solos.

"Ray! There's a log up here!" Grey called out suddenly, kicking the fallen tree blocking their path. Rayne grunted acknowledgment, and shuffled around Lillian to help move the obstruction.

Rayne Rose played the drums, and also did a majority of the heavy lifting due to being the strongest person present in any room that didn't involve professional weightlifters. Her muscular arms were covered with watercolor flower tattoos, which she proudly showed off by refusing to wear any shirt with sleeves. Her curly hair, dyed a gradient of aqua blue and purple, was cropped close to her face for summertime weather. The short style purposefully revealed ear gauges and more than a dozen total ear piercings, matching the many piercings on her brows, lips, and nose.

The twins had fresh yet roguish charms, while Rayne had a more heroic air with heavy brows and an intense black gaze over lips naturally curved into an amused smirk. She dusted off her hands after tossing the log aside with little effort, while Grey panted for breath from the exertion of merely helping her lift it. Crystal, for her part, made sure to get the whole thing on video for future blackmail purposes.

Crystal Rose, Rayne's older sister, played the harp. Unlike her athletic and statuesque sister, Crystal was on the soft and plump side. Her long, wavy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy twist to keep it off her neck, the ends still pink from the last time she dyed it. Her face was round and childish, with bluish gray eyes above an upturned nose and broad cheekbones, unremarkable features made more charming by her innate overwhelming charisma and natural exuberance.

She was the kind of person that random strangers would strike up a conversation with, lost kids would try to hold her hand, wild animals would approach like an old friend, and when she raised her voice even the most crowded room would quiet down. She was also the kind of person who got carded when buying alcohol despite being thirty years of age, due to what Grey dubbed 'Acute Babyface Syndrome'.

"Anyone need to clean their glasses?" Crystal asked, pulling a cloth from her pocket to swipe hers clean. Aside from Rayne, who wore her contacts, Grey and Lillian both opted to wear glasses for the hike so they wouldn't have to worry about losing a contact forever if they tripped - a serious and ever-present concern for the slightly clumsy twins.

"I'm good!"

"Not yet, thanks."

"I'll take it," Rayne said, keeping her expression blank, and Crystal narrowed her eyes.

"If you wipe your sweaty face with the glasses cloth I'll push you into the patch of poison ivy over there."

"Ope, nevermind then."

The haunted house was a thirty minute hike from the nearest road, along a mostly uphill path that hardly anyone ever used and certainly wasn't wide or steady enough for any automobiles. By the time they reached the stone fence encircling the house's enormous overgrown yard, everyone except Rayne was ready to collapse.

"I'm gonna be so in shape after this if my binder doesn't kill me first," Grey wheezed, leaning on the stone fence and looking up at the haunted house of his dreams with a longing yet exhausted expression. It stood atop a hill in the distance, surrounded by several acres worth of mostly empty property speckled by a few large trees and scraggly bushes. Behind it was a small barn, a chicken coop that hadn't seen use in ages, and a greenhouse conspicuously lacking anything actually green. "A stone brick cottage in the middle of the woods overgrown by vines, a sagging peaked roof with exposed beams, and gaping windows whose panes are cracked like spiderwebs... Looks spooky enough! If the door doesn't creak ominously when we open it, I'm filing a complaint."

Rayne pulled the handcart into the yard, then glanced over her shoulder at Crystal, who was panning the camera up to take a wide shot of the house from just inside the fence gate. "How's it feel, Coco?"

Crystal frowned, furrowing her brows. All four of them believed in the supernatural after they all experienced several strange circumstances growing up, and Crystal had long proven to have abilities that most people would've considered fake nonsense.

She kept a dream diary after experiencing incidents where she'd dream events before they occurred, and wanted to prove to herself it wasn't a figment of her imagination. Whenever something weird happened, she was the first to alert everyone and get them away from danger before anything bad happened, and had an uncanny sense of whether people were lying.

"Hard to say. It does feel... Weird. The walk through the whole forest was fine, but as soon as I walked into the yard... The air's different."

"Really?" Grey raised his eyebrows, hopping over the fence and holding out his arms. He was the second most sensitive to any external oddities, with a particular penchant for finding rather nasty unexplained phenomena. After a few seconds he frowned as well. "No, yeah. That's a weird vibe for sure. It's like, the forest was fine and funky fresh, then you get over here and it's..."

"Musty," Crystal and Grey finished at the same time, and exchanged wry smiles.

"Could be trepidation from perceived fears," Lillian pointed out, gesturing toward the house. Though she also believed in the supernatural, Lillian also liked trying to find reasonable explanations before resorting to the occult. "The big empty windows feel eerie because people expect houses to be brighter and look more lived in, right? It's possible it's just a subconscious response to an old, dilapidated building."

"Dilapidated..." Rayne muttered, raising her eyebrows as she surveyed the house. She had a sensitivity to people's emotions and motivations, and could sometimes pick up lingering feelings from objects, but she didn't feel anything in particular coming from the building. "I don't think it looks that bad? We've lived in worse."

"It hurts me, physically, every time you and Crystal tell us about that kind of thing," Lillian sighed, patting her hand over her heart while Grey nodded next to her. "This place looks gross! It's horrible to imagine little Ray and little Coco in a place even worse than this..."

"Hey, they hired someone to clean the inside and arrange some basic furniture for us to use," Grey said. "It won't be fancy, but the interior shouldn't be too gross! And we'll sleep in the same room for safety! After all... This is the Corpse Consuming Cottage!"

"Ugh, that name..." Crystal and Rayne both cringed at the same time, while Lillian's eyebrows shot up.

"Wait, it's called what?!"

"Yup! Bad, right? But it's earned the name cuz of how many people have gone missing here. Poof! Gone without a trace! Every single person who's ever bought this place has disappeared, along with any family they brought along." Grey grinned, wiggling his fingers at his suddenly horrified twin. "I even made a spooky spreadsheet citing all my sources, aren't you proud? It's legit, this place is either hella haunted or hella cursed."

"Will we be okay!?" Lillian muttered, color draining from her cheeks.

"There's a loophole," Rayne said, and Crystal nodded.

"Yeah, we didn't buy the house. We're just renting. Supernatural stories are always big sticklers on rules, right? Chanting something three times, turning a certain way, walking a certain pattern. If buying the house is part of the problem, then renting it shouldn't be counted as the same thing because possession isn't being transferred." Crystal turned the camera to zoom in on poor Lillian's pale face, hiding her mischievous grin behind the lens. "Theoretically."

"Don't even pretend you aren't absolutely terrified too, Miss I Can't Go On The Haunted House Ride At The Amusement Park I Have A Doctor's Note," Grey scoffed.

"I don't like ghosts or wraiths or poltergeists or whatever wicked whatsits terrorize the night because I feel bad for them thanks very much, but..." Crystal glanced over at the house and frowned, furrowing her brow again. "I feel bothered but not... Threatened? Like there's something here watching but it won't hurt us."

"That's as good as a gold star to me. Let's crack this bitch open and make some lunch!" With renewed vigor, Grey fished the key from his shorts pocket and ran up the creaky old porch to the front door. "Come on in, it's nice and cool inside! Comparatively speaking, I don't think there's an air conditioner. Just fans. But it'll be clean!"

Like he'd promised, the interior was cleaner than the exterior condition belied. Furniture was sparse, but they were all fine wood antiques with a hand-polished sheen. Everyone dropped their backpacks in the foyer and stretched for a moment before getting to work.

"Water's on!" Grey called from the kitchen, where he set the tap to run. "There's dishes and cookware in here too!"

"Silverware?" Lillian called back, in the middle of helping Crystal and Rayne unload the handcart.

"Yup, as requested! I think they're all antique like the rest of everything here."

"Don't you dare break any antique dishes, Dorian Grey!"

"No promises!"

"Electricity works," Crystal said with some surprise, flicking a nearby switch after setting her harp case on the floor in the living room, alongside a towering pile of boxes holding personal things they'd had delivered via the realtor. She held her breath to listen for any crackles or pops, but the overhead light didn't give so much as a flicker. "Wires might actually be okay? That's surprising, this house is really old. Must've been recently renovated."

"Probably to try and reel in prospective buyers," Rayne said, setting down three drum cases. The rest of her kit was already unloaded, so she took a moment to glance around the living room with Crystal. "Inside looks much nicer than outside."

"We can make it look spookier with filters and editing," Crystal said, running her finger against the windowsill. When it came up without dust, she furrowed her brows. "They were real thorough cleaning this place."

"Found the terrifying cellar!" Grey's faint muffled cry echoed from somewhere in the house, followed by the sound of Lillian shouting his full name and charging off after him.

"Any cold spots?" Crystal shouted down the stairs after circling the entire bottom floor trying to find them. The cellar door was tucked into the kitchen's pantry, which was a full walk-in room rather than a little cabinet.

Since the house was so far from town, part of the rental contract involved the current real estate agent making sure the kitchen was stocked before tenants took over. All the shelves were packed full with newly purchased dry goods and spices, mostly sorted into pretty glass jars for aesthetic appeal.

"No cold spots, just some nice shelving, big old ground freezer and a wine rack! Fruit preserves and stuff but they didn't leave any complimentary wine. Zero out of ten, not recommended."

"What makes it terrifying then?"

"Big spiders."

Crystal grimaced and backed away from the cellar door, narrowly evading Lillian as she retreated up the stairs at maximum speed.

The house was surprisingly large. The ground floor had a large open kitchen with an attached breakfast room, a living room, a dining room, a sitting room, a study with empty floor-to-ceiling bookshelves alongside display cabinets, and a laundry/changing room attached to a bathroom with an enormous sunken bath large enough to be used as a hot tub.

"I would buy this house just for the tub," Lillian said, stroking the porcelain with obvious affection.

"Please don't," Grey muttered. "We're evading the horrible disappearance curse via fairy loopholes, don't you go walking into the trap face-first like that!"

"Fine, but when we leave, we're bringing the tub with us."

"Yeah sure that's completely feasible and not at all slightly insane."

The upper floor had five large bedrooms with attached changing rooms, two lavatories, and a walk-in storage closet. Rayne carried their bags into the master bedroom, then returned to the handcart to retrieve the extra supplies they brought - a couple of brand new air mattresses, blankets, boxes of instant food, tents in case the house was in worse shape than expected, a first aid kit, and little tools like scissors, binoculars, and lighters.

"This place is supposed to be super haunted and cursed, yet..." Rayne hummed to herself, patting the mattress in the master bedroom. Every bed in the house was neatly made, with clean sheets and blankets that still smelled like soap. "Won't need the air mattresses. They really worked hard to make this place nice, huh?"

Finally, the attic under the peaked roof had a few small gaps in the shingles, but otherwise lacked any signs of weathering or exposure damage. The only things occupying the space were a few cobwebs in the darkest corners. "Ugh, nothing for us to snoop through," Grey muttered, poking his head into the attic for only moment before heading back downstairs to start moving boxes from the living room into various bedrooms for later sorting.

Crystal and Rayne turned the fans on in all the rooms to start circulating air, opening windows on the shaded side of the house to catch any stray breezes, while Lillian and Grey got started on making lunch. The house which stood empty for so long soon filled with laughter, conversation, and the smell of good food.

"I just can't get over how unhaunted this haunted house is," Grey lamented, tapping a fork against his empty plate. "I've been looking and there's not so much as a suspiciously shadowed corner or creaky stair board!"

"Are you sure those disappearances were legit?" Lillian asked, gesturing for Crystal to pass the salt so she could douse her potato salad. "You checked the sources themselves, right?"

"I did! That's why it's so weird!" Grey drained the remaining water from his glass, glaring down at the ice cubes rattling at the bottom. "Other than the terrible cell reception, weak internet signal, and our gut feelings, there's really no sign of anything being weird. I was promised jumpscares!"

"You were promised no such thing," Rayne muttered around a mouthful of grilled chicken sandwich, deftly capturing some lettuce before it escaped her lips and hit the table. "The outside looks spooky enough for use in our video, we can think of this like a vacation and relax for a bit until we have to leave."

"There's a barn out back, maybe that's haunted?" Crystal suggested, but Grey shook his head.

"I already checked... It's clean as a whistle. No disturbed earth or rattling rusty tools or anything!"

"Would you feel better if one of us got possessed by a demon?"

"Maybe. It'd have to be a really good possession though, if you're not crawling on the ceiling I want a refund."

"Oh, you're paying us?"

"Hell no, a refund of my feelings. My feelings!"

"Speaking of feelings, how do you feel, Coco? Lils?" Rayne interrupted just as Grey was about to get dramatic. "That was a doozy of a hike. You guys alright?"

Both Lillian and Crystal suffered from several health problems when they were younger, and were still weaker than the average person because of it. They had to work harder to remain healthy than most people did.

Lillian, since her mouth was full, flexed her arm and gave a thumbs up to show she was feeling alright. Once her mouth was clear of food, she added: "Mostly just sore, but nothing a long bath and some music won't cure!"

"Coco?"

Crystal gave a start, realizing she'd been staring out the nearest window for awhile and tuning out the conversation. She turned back to Rayne and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just feel a bit woozy, I think."

"Sensing something weird?"

"Honestly? I don't know." Crystal sighed, opening a can of grape soda and pouring it into her glass. "I still feel like we're being watched. And..."

She hesitated, then shook her head. No matter how Grey tried to cajole the rest of the sentence from her, Crystal kept the rest of her thoughts to herself. If she felt they were in danger she wouldn't be so tight-lipped, so they dropped the subject and started discussing their upcoming album instead.

After lunch they moved several beds into one room, turning the master bedroom into a big slumber party area. The rest of the afternoon and early evening was spent getting video and photos of the house and its yard, trying to find the perfect angles for use during the actual performance recording.

Rayne gathered some logs for firewood after noticing a fire pit in the back with some carved stone benches surrounding it. Dinner consisted of an open flame barbecue using packaged meats they found in the fridge, and a few veggies and fruit rolled into foil packs.

"We've really gotta thank that agent lady," Grey said, reclining in his chair. "She really came through with the supplies! It's so good having a fully stocked kitchen from the start, I was worried we'd be having pancakes and instant ramen for days."

"I'll head to town tomorrow and grab more meat for the freezer in the cellar," Rayne said, chewing on a skewer of chicken. "It's got a little variety right now but I'd like to stock up so we don't have to make as many trips. You and Lils might be fine with rabbit food, but Crystal and I need that good good protein."

"We're natural carnivores," Crystal agreed.

"Is there anything else we need from the store?"

"Nah, I can't think of anything. There's like, four entire bags of toilet paper, and towels and wash cloths and soaps and detergent and even pads and stuff. Like, I know we paid for the service but the level of consideration is really impressive!"

Crystal stared into the flickering flames, watching the embers rise into the rapidly darkening sky only to flicker away among the stars. The strange feeling she'd had all day was building to a crescendo, swelling in her chest in anticipation of...

Something.

Rayne glanced over, nudging her sister in the arm. "Coco? You're out of it again."

Crystal nodded. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened again. Seeing her strange behavior, Lillian and Grey both fell silent.

Finally, Crystal heaved a sigh and poked at the burning logs with a long stick. "Remember when we first posted the video for our band? It was uploading and we were all watching the loading bar while holding our breaths? How it felt?"

"Don't get nostalgic on me old man," Grey muttered. Though his tone was teasing, there was an affectionate smile on his face.

Lillian nodded and smiled. "It was so exciting and terrifying at the same time. Maybe nothing would happen, maybe we'd be one of many bands that never got any traction. But maybe... Maybe we'd get lucky."

"It was kind of a relief too," Rayne added, gesturing with the skewer in her hand. "Like, we did it! We made our first song, and did our first video, and were gonna show it to the world. It felt really real right then. All our hard work."

"Yeah... And remember what I said?" When they all shook their heads, Crystal chuckled and poked the fire hard enough to send a flurried shower of sparks into the air. "I said it felt like a change was coming. For better or worse, something big was about to happen."

"Right, right! We'd either succeed in our dream or fail absolutely, with no in-between. That's what you said, yeah?" Grey sighed, patting his full stomach. "I remember. Man, that was heavy. I couldn't even sleep that night, you know?"

"Is it happening again?" Lillian asked, her voice even softer than usual. "That feeling?"

"Yeah. I've felt that way all day. I thought maybe it's cuz we never did anything as big as this, renting a house and doing a whole video shoot on location, that maybe I was worried about how ambitious our idea was, but..." Crystal bit her lip, poking the fire again. She made a point of avoiding their gazes, focusing on the burning embers and crackling logs. "I think if we stay here tonight, there's no going back."

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Then, quietly, Rayne whispered: "Are we in danger?"

"It's not like that. It's just... A massive change, that feels... Overwhelming. This is bigger than the previous time."

"Bigger than chasing our dream?"

"Yeah."

Rayne reached over to grab Crystal's hand, while Grey hopped up and sprawled across Lillian's lap despite her protests. He just laughed and said, "What's that matter? No matter what happens tonight, tomorrow, or whatever! We'll get through it together like we always have. You and me, sweethearts. Us against the world!"

Crystal smiled and gently squeezed Rayne's hand. "Yeah. We'll be fine, no matter what."

Once dinner was finished, the fire fully smothered and the leftovers packed away for later, everyone did rock-paper-scissors to determine order of bathtub usage. One by one, they soaked away their worries, changed into the pajamas they brought, and crawled into one of the master bedroom's beds.

As midnight ticked over, a single shaft of light from the full moon filtered through the room's lacy curtains, illuminating their peaceful faces. The sleeping occupants remained blissfully unaware of the tendrils of fog creeping along the ground, emerging from the forest to wrap the entire house in a dome of mist.

Several hours later, as the first rays of dawn burst from the horizon, they were finally awoken by a piercing scream.

#writing #chapter #original #original story #masquerade #fantasy #isekai

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