#there’s something innately cozy about it

[saint-miroir]

[pookie-mulder]

July 2024 fic roundup

Here are the highlights from this month! I really love doing these. It helps me be more engaged with what I’m reading and actually remember individual fics once I’m done with them (rather than stuffing them in the collective “fic soup” in my brain, where they’ll combine together until there’s no hope of remembering details). Anyway, I highly recommend doing some sort of fic journal! I’d love to know what you guys are reading.

🦆👧 Temporum VI by Emily_M1013

This is the third installment of a wonderful Emily AU, The Mallards series. I love how it puts its own spin on canon events, and I’m delighted every time I see an update in my inbox!

🤫🪪 Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst

My favorite thing about this fic is the way it adds to canon without rehashing what we’ve already seen in the show, building on season 5 so seamlessly. (The motel scene is 👌)

👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️yesterday’s future by @thursdayinspace

This fic answers the question I posed in this post: What if Mulder and Scully got married right after William was born? I loved it so much! The angst and the longing and the overwhelming love were just perfect.

👓😩 spectacular by @thursdayinspace

Scully has a thing for Mulder in glasses. Mulder has a think for Scully in glasses. They bang about it. (And who can blame them, really?)

🌳☕️ Suncadia by @sisterspooky1013

A banger from the great sisterspooky! It’s a casefic set in the weird post-Millennium era where they kiss sometimes but haven’t established the terms of their relationship yet. Pining and yearning abound!

🏥👰‍♀️ Something blue (and something pink) by @sunflowernyx

Mulder and Scully get married during the cancer arc. It’s sweet, angsty, adorable, and tender. I thoroughly enjoyed it!

🐶🪤 A Change of Seasons by Jo-Ann Lassiter

Still making my way through @lilydalexf’s survival fic recs! This one is a one-shot; perfect for when you want a bit of hurt/comfort without all the peril and drama.

🌨️🌲 Frozen by @dashakay

Classic, cozy, cabin-in-the-woods fic where our two favorite agents get snowed in and finally admit their feelings for each other.

🏥👻 Finding Rokovoko by prufrockslove

An instant addition to my holy grail list! This is the first fic I’ve read by this legendary author (I think?), and BOY HOWDY do I see why they’re so revered. I finished this fic in one sitting, reading late into the night (yes, I was very tired at work the next day).

I think it’s best if you go into this one mostly blind. All you need to know is that MSR are teetering on the knife’s edge between UST and RST, there’s plenty of cancer arc angst, and they go on a spooky adventure that will give you the creepy crawlies.

📝📱 Belphegor’s Prime by prufrockslove

Another absolute banger from the legend themselves. This fic is as close to perfection as humanly possible. The way everything comes together is just incredible. If you haven’t read it yet, do it now! Shirk all other responsibilities and devour this fic in one sitting!

One of my favorite things about this fic is how ruthless Mulder is. I don’t think I’ve encountered a version of him quite like this anywhere else. His intense love for his family and his innate sense of duty are intensified to the point where he skirts the boundaries of what’s morally acceptable. He’s so desperate to protect his loved ones and fix the world that he will do anything, even if he risks becoming his father(s). It felt so organic and natural for him to become that version of himself under the extreme circumstances.

Anyway, if you’re a fan of time travel, DILFs, or characters whose greatest strengths become a curse, this is the perfect fic for you!

🎪🎡 More Than a Feeling by @sisterspooky1013

A s6 casefic where M&S go undercover at a traveling carnival. I love how fleshed-out the OCs were — it really raised the stakes of the story and made you care what happened to them. Such a fun read!

🐞🩺 Inspection by @ingridgradient

Our favorite agents use tick checks as an excuse to touch each other. Need I say more? Things get hot! (Thanks for the rec, @is-on-its-way!)

P.S. If you like this one, check out let’s have a look by girlfromnowhere (thanks for finding it for me, @randomfoggytiger!)

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿✝️ Hiraeth by prufrockslove

This is one of those fics that leaves you gobsmacked that someone wrote this for free and posted it online for anyone to enjoy. The amount of detail in this story is truly unbelievable. I don’t even normally like total AUs, but this one won me over!

Mulder and Scully’s medieval counterparts are so far removed from anything in canon, yet they still feel exactly like the characters we know and love. This fic is an absolute master class in characterization. I am now a prufrockslove stan account.

———

Special shoutout to @skelavender’s latest installment of fall into place, which isn’t out yet but I had the pleasure of beta reading. Guys, you are in for some serious shrimp emotions. It’s got everything you could ever want. I can’t wait until everyone gets to see how awesome it is!

[enchantedflameandflower]

Gavin x Reader Part 6!

Morning nuzzles before breakfast…

I had a request to post an update and I had only a bit of editing left so here we go, I hope this brightens your day!

co-written with CheshireCatSmile

@kus-babygirl @shirley-girly @jynx15 @everchar-of-the-shire @scraftsku35

@vavafaure1994 @deathlesun @sickforbillybutcher @butchers-girl @hippo2211

@bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

direct link to part 1

part 5

warning: very brief mention of past bad relationship

6.

Gavin shifts to start unzipping his sleeping bag. You move a little so he can take yours too and zip them together, shivering again, but this time because of the cooling air. “And you’re sure you don’t mind I come with a whole truck load of baggage?” you ask. It wasn’t your plan to get involved with anyone but it feels so good to have someone actually seem to care about you. But you don’t think you can handle being hurt again.

"I have baggage myself. I usually rush headlong into everything, but...this…I want to build something special. If you do, too.”

You nod and bite your lip. You know there’s so much more to him than what he thinks and you’ve always admired his determination and strength, even if he made mistakes in the past. Some never do anything for themselves and only tear others down and in your opinion that’s far worse than his faults. The rain is still tapping on the tent and nothing sounds better than curling up with him. When the sleeping bags are joined, you slip in and stretch out, watching him, and not minding the glimpse of his strong masculine legs as he moves around.

He slides into the sleeping bag beside you zipping it up so you're both inside tucked away cozy and warm. He has an innate heat coming from him and you can't help but be drawn to it. When he gathers you into his arms you can't help just melting against his body. 

"I can't believe how perfectly you fit against me,” he murmurs low and soft.

You bury your face against the soft henley covering his broad chest, making a quiet little sound. He’s right. Nothing has ever felt like this before. You want to say something back but you’re already drifting off and within a few moments you’ve fallen asleep. At first you’re not sure what disturbs you, but then you realize a low roll of thunder from off in the distance sparked a nightmare that woke you and for a second you can’t remember where you are as your body jerks awake.

Gavin’s arms tighten around you and he murmurs, his voice gruff with sleep. "It's alright sweetheart; you're safe. Just a bad dream. I've gotcha."

You blink rapidly in the dark, but Gavin’s low voice makes you remember immediately where you are. You take a breath. Safe, in his arms. And he feels so good. You close your eyes but your heart is still beating fast and you know it’s going to take a minute before it starts to slow.

"That thunder's just gettin’ to you, that's all." Soon the rain starts a steady drumming on the tent's thick canvas roof.  His large warm hand begins rubbing your back soothingly.  "I can still feel your heart pounding sweetheart. You don't need to worry. I'll keep you safe.” You can feel his breath warm and ruffling your hair lightly.

His hand on your back feels so good. You feel like you already know him so well and know you’re safe with him. After awhile you fall asleep easily again and sleep better than you have in years. When you wake, your face is buried against the curve of his neck and before you realize what you’re doing in your half asleep state, you nuzzle there softly against his skin.

A low hum comes from deep in his throat and he tightens his hold on you again, dragging you close to his body.  "Mmm...that feels good. darlin’. A sweet thing to wake up to." He rubs at your back again then rests his hand on your hip, squeezing softly, steady and warm.

You freeze for a moment as you wake fully and realize what you’re doing. Slow. Slow, you tell yourself again. With 5 more days of this trip left alone with him though you have a feeling that is not going to happen. Every part of him feels so good and you feel like if that big, strong hand started sliding under your shirt right now you would be nothing but exuberant. 

Carefully you shift back a little so you’re not completely on top of him and take a breath of the crisp morning air trying not to think about the two of you naked in this sleeping bag. But suddenly you remember what had happened during the night. Your cheeks heat as you think about how silly it was to have nightmares and be scared of thunder. “Sorry about last night,” you murmur softly. “My ex broke in once, before I moved…so sometimes I’m a little on edge at night, I guess.”

He's quiet for a long moment. "That's awful. I didn't realize how much you'd been through. No woman should have to live with that kind of fear. You certainly don't need to apologize." He presses his lips against your forehead in a tender kiss.

Your eyes sting with his kindness, it’s overwhelming to you and you don’t really know why you told him that, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. You nod mutely and take a breath then slip away from him to stretch tight muscles. “I suppose we should get going.”

He catches your eyes with his own as you look up at him. There's still a myriad of emotions there but something you recognize as…respect? "I can't believe what it must have taken to pull yourself together and pick up to start a new life someplace completely different. That's incredibly brave."

You shrug a little but a small smile tugs at your lips. “I didn’t really have a choice. So I just kept going. But thank you.” His hazel eyes swirl with color and you could get lost there forever if you let yourself.

“You're among friends now. And we don't take kindly to anyone trying to hurt one of our own."  He glances up at the top of the tent. I suppose you're right...we should get going while we have a break in the weather." He looks back at you and smiles softly then tucks your hair behind your ear gently.

For a moment all you can think about is pulling him back into bed on top of you, but instead you turn your head to kiss his palm. “What’s for breakfast?”

He chuckles as he shifts to unzip the sleeping bags.  "A girl who keeps sight of the important things in life." He gets up from the warm fabric and quickly pulls his jeans on. "I'll go get coffee started."

In a short time, as you're pulling yourself together for the day, you smell the heavenly scent of coffee wafting into the tent.  "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes, " he calls into the tent.

You pull your sweatshirt on and shift to climb out of the tent. Sitting in the open doorway, you pull your boots on and look up to find Gavin crouched by the fire, his jeans molded around his ass and you end up staring as you tie your laces until suddenly your stomach grumbles.

He looks over his shoulder grinning at you. "Sounds like last nights dreams worked up an appetite." He beckons you over to the fire and hands you a plate with pancakes and bacon and you wonder how the heck he managed that and coffee too so quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” you smile. “How did you do all this?” He pours some syrup over your pancake and you take a big bite, humming appreciatively. It’s really good. “It’s amazing Gavin, you’re going to spoil me…”

He smiles at you. "Maybe it's time you had some of that in your life." He sits down beside you and takes a bite of his own pancake. Even the campfire coffee is good. His leg is just barely brushing yours as you sit beside each other.

“Mmmm I love bacon…” you murmur, and he’s cooked it perfectly, crisp and hot. Then you pick up your camp mug and sip the dark coffee slowly, savoring then flavor on your tongue. “You better be careful or I might just show up at your house every morning,” you joke.

"Now that's a pleasant thought," he chuckles and winks at you. He's quiet then for a moment. He looks at the fire and says softly, "Though it was nice having you in my arms when I woke up this morning." The way his voice drops low makes you want him with every fiber of your being.

“It was very nice,” you agree, a little breathless. “Except for the thunder I don’t remember the last time I slept that well.” Your mind drifts back to the night before, him pulling you close and kissing you like he couldn’t get enough. You wonder if you can get a replay of it tonight.

Breaking your thoughts, he leans toward you and steals a quick, soft kiss before getting up to quickly take care of the breakfast dishes. He pours the last of the coffee into your mug and smiles at you then continues with his task, drying everything and putting it away in his pack. “I'm going to take the tent down, you just enjoy your coffee."

“Gavin, really, you should have at least let me clean the dishes,” you sigh softly knowing that’s going to be an argument you’re going to lose. But you figure you might as well accept it for now and settle back to enjoy watching him. “I owe you one.”

"I'll keep that in mind," he says with a charming grin that causes his dimple to show. He's so efficient tearing down the tent and packing everything away in his pack. You at least rinse your cup and dry it off to hand to him before gathering up the few things you still have to pack.

It’s not long before you are all packed up and you head out a bit further to survey more of the land that will be part of the cut and then off to the west so you can document the saplings from 3 years ago. It was late midday when the clouds started to roll in again. “Maybe we should have headed to our next camping spot sooner,” you comment, but you really wanted to get all that work done.

"Yeah...there was another area a little farther in I wanted to take a look at too. If you don't mind spending a little extra time...I know you probably have work piling up. But if it’s okay with you?"  He studies you a moment then walks over and adjusts your pack on you so the weight is more even.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all. We have our raincoats after all. I should be able to get a cell signal at the cabin to answer a few emails, but I won’t have any trouble catching up on work when we get back. I know you wanted to make some repairs at the cabin as well and I can work on the reports.”

"Okay, that sounds great. Ready?" He caresses your cheek softly before turning to start up the trail. After hiking steadily for about half an hour he stops and pulls an old map out of a pocket and studies it a moment. "I think it's this way," he catches you when you start off too quick and stumble over an old root system from the ancient adjoining trees. He holds onto you a little longer than absolutely necessary then makes sure you have your footing and starts off again.

This time he takes your hand in his, warm and strong and steady and you almost melt. You walk for a little bit longer until he finds the spot but you realize you are near a ridge and you go over to find an amazing view over a valley of evergreens below.

"It's beautiful isn't it? Now...I think there's a meadow...oh, right here! It should be right...oh my God, it's real!"  

~.~.~.~

part 7

Next up: a little bit of magic enhances the romantic atmosphere ❤️ Let me know what you think!

[damned-punk]

Your Love Triangle with Kid & Killer is awesome 😍 would you write more HCs for this Poly relationship? I imagine doing more quiet hobbies and activities with Killer like cooking or shopping and a lot of cuddling on the couch (and maybe some Vanilla Sex 👀). While with Kid you could have really hot hard sex, beeing creative in his workshop or listening to Punk Rock music. 🎶🎧

Kidd

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• Activities arranged by Kidd would certainly be more chaotic and riveting, likely involving new or experimental ideas

• Kidd certainly enjoys all of the soft moments, but he loves to break up the pace by pushing some boundaries

• Events involving concerts, festivals, amusement parks, and other high energy outings where the three of you could let loose would be Kidd’s preference

• Kidd is very adventurous in the bedroom and is willing to try most things as long as everyone else is comfortable

• The Captain is a rough lover but he’s very attentive to your likes and dislikes, I can specifically see him being very keen on spanking if you’re up for it (in a playful way of course)

• Prone to living in the moment, Kidd would not shy away from taking you in the middle of his workshop should the mood strike

• Perhaps you needed something or just wanted to check on him, Kidd would be hulking over some contraption with toned muscles glistening beneath a fresh sheen of sweat

• The Captain would notice your gaze and flushed face before you could even register your own thoughts, working to exacerbate your already flustered state

• It wouldn’t take long for his metal hand to sweep the lingering tools off the top of his workbench and into the floor, your sweet self filling the empty space while being spread open to the heaviest metal on his playlist

• Maybe Killer would hear some suspiciously erotic sounds overtoning the music in the room where his two lovers were last seen and enters the room to find the two of you enjoying one another, his addition to your spur of the moment session being welcomed and yearned for

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Killer

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• Activities arranged by Killer would be intimate and cozy, often ending in the three of you lounging comfortably in the company of one another

• Killer enjoys all the high-pace antics that are typically drawn up by Kidd, but he has an innate preference for the softer moments

• Expect to participate in more personal things like baking, watching movies, attempting to build things together, and other private activities that bring the three of you closer together

• Killer is a very attentive lover and wants to please his partners above all else, he’s not quite as adventurous in this aspect but is still a lot of fun

• Praise is a large part of Killer’s behavior when he’s in the mood, you can almost always tell what’s coming next when overt compliments and recognition begin to pour from his mouth

• Maybe the two of you are lounging on the couch waiting for Kidd to return from tinkering when the barrage of compliments begins, Killer rather proactively pointing out all the things he adores about you

• Your embarrassed expression would spur him on, prompting him to make use of his hands in finding either your waist or thighs to begin kneading

• He’d purposely inch closer and closer to the explicit areas of your body, reveling in your gasps as he eases the two of you into more physical activities

• Killer would bring himself to rest on his knees in front of you, lifting your legs to sit on his shoulders as he indulges in the arousal he’d built up within you

• He’d take his time to ensure that Kidd would have the opportunity to walk in on the two of you, ultimately securing an exponentially more graphic evening involving all three of you

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[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(Sleep Edition!)

(Request here! Honestly, I’m surprised it took me so long to use an ICP song for Turbo, something about him just screams Juggalo, probably the paper white skin or the innate violent impulsivity🔑, I dunno lol)

- Alright so, even unconscious Turbo is selfish, an absolute blanket hog, and you’d think with how small the guy is he wouldn’t take as much of bed space but he does, spreading his limbs out like he’s a fat cat who just ate a good portion of some cat kibble earlier.

- I think he’d be a snorer, but like, usually when he’s on his back and it isn’t obnoxious, no loud sleep apnea snoring here.

- Much like everything else, it takes a while for him to get used to sleeping with you whenever you guys can without necessities of working or doing some other things after hours.

- In my opinion I think the need for sleep for the game characters of Wreck-It Ralph is far less important seeing how after hours they display little to no sleep deprivation all throughout the movie even though it spans roughly 2 nights filled with action and 2 work days.

- So this may be a rare occurrence, but it’s certainly not impossible, considering with the existence of Tapper’s in which we see these game characters drinking, meaning they may have ways to both gain and lose energy.

- Despite this, Turbo I think would be less inclined to exercise a healthy sleeping routine, just having so much to do and wanting to have every moment awake to prove to him and others around him that he is worthy of the title of the beloved game protagonist of Mr. Litwak’s arcade.

- Those eye bags and more unhealthy disposition in comparison to the art on the side of his arcade cabinet says all that needs to be known.

- Which adds to his easily agitated demeanor, so, possibly, maybe, I dunno, getting him to finally fucking sleep after who knows how long makes him chill the fuck out for once.

- Afterwards, he doesn’t verbally thank you for it, typical, too stubborn to admit he was the wrong one in this situation but shows his thanks the next time you disregard your health, calling you stupid among other things while either metaphorically or literally dragging you away from what’s making you unhealthy.

- Inevitably, much like many of the aspects of your relationship he comes to like having sleeping sessions with you, having you beside him while he’s in one of his vulnerable states.

- He doesn’t like being seen as weak and it shows consciously and unconsciously, so having someone whose opinion and perspective of him matters to him seeing him like that displays something he probably never thought would ever do— To be truly trusting of someone beyond himself.

- To be with him alone is something he doesn’t expect from anyone, let alone you— A part of him knows he’s not exactly the best when it comes to another person’s emotions, whether intentional or not.

- So someone like you who shows genuine interest in and keeps showing that rocks him to the very core at times, a kind pang of emotion he doesn’t know how to comprehend just yet.

- Again he hides this with hostility at times, threatening you a bit so you don’t tell anyone of this self-perceived weakness.

- Paralleling him to a cat once more when I say, you can’t force this— He doesn’t hang on your every word or action, he needs to be eased into this new normal and be given consistent reassurance that you are what you portray, ironic isn’t it?

- I think he slowly comes to be truly comfortable with you sleeping with him, but I don’t see him cozying up to you easily, he’s just a naturally rigid guy.

- However I don’t think he’s a block of ice completely, he does have the capacity and does hold onto you whenever you’re in bed with him after some gentle coaxing.

- Talking him to sleep is a common thing during these moments, something about being softly spoken to lulling the racer to sleep eventually.

- He’s a crippling insomniac and no one can tell me otherwise, just look at him.

- This is a very interesting way you guys bond, it isn’t over the top or over-complicated, it’s you and him sharing a sweet moment.

(Y ntyeb yd mlpfdyev fqljcx inniptlu rynt ntyk ptijipnlj ys ntin yken fmqyfok icjliux.)

[thewritetofreespeech]

Domestic

Astarion x Reader

Astarion had never considered himself a domestic.

Much like being ‘the hero’ of any story, he also never thought of himself as one for settling down. He always thought that was an innate trait within himself. To always be hungry for more; his vampirism just brought it out closer to the surface.

He couldn’t remember much of his human life after 200 years. But the few times he tried to think of his life, his former home, any family, a bitter copper taste would flood the back of Astarion’s throat. Not like blood, he was used to that, more like bile. Or that distinctive taste of disappointment. So, he didn’t try anymore.

He had a house when he was bound to Cazador, but it was never a home. As his master’s favorite & most efficient lure Astarion was granted greater freedoms than his siblings. But he was constantly reminded that nothing there was his. None of the lamps. None of the floorboards. None of the air he breathed was his. Everything was Cazador’s, and he was lucky to be given what he got.

Then he was granted freedom, via way of another imprisonment, and met [Y/N] and the others. The menagerie of unlikely heroes and thieves and just downright oddities of nature that were mashed together by happen stance. If not for their abduction, none of them would have given each other a second glance on the street. Let alone bonded in a way that could never be explained or replicated by anyone else.

And then there was [Y/N].

[Y/N] who offered him a place in their throng, even though it was probably against their better judgement at the time. [Y/N] who accepted him, even when his darkest secret was revealed, and he took advantage. [Y/N]…who always saw the better in him, even when he didn’t see it in himself, until he believed it too.

They gave him a purpose, friends, fun, real freedom. Not just to be out and about on his own but to choose what he wanted to do with it. So of course he had chosen them.

And now here he was. No longer in the grand palace of Cazadors steps, but in a small, cozy home he and [Y/N] had made for their own. The kind of place Astarion would call ‘quaint’ with that superior, classist sneer just under the compliment back in the day. Let’s be honest, if it was anyone else’s home, he still would. But this was his. This was his home. With his books, with his chair, with his fire, and his lover humming quietly from the bath in the other room. This was all his. He suddenly wondered what the aversion had been to all of this.

“Astarion…?”

The vampire’s attention perked up as he turned around and saw [Y/N] there. Damp from their bath, in one of those thin robes Gale had given them that he suspected was more of a gift for him than them, looking at him with those doe eyes that, even though he had the fortitude & freedom to do so now, he could never say no to.

“Oh, sorry my sweet. Did I keep you waiting? I was lost in my new book.” He closed the book just as he stood to greet them with a smile as he wrapped his arms around them. Sealing off any questions on it like the pages. Astarion’s life may be different, but old habits die hard. It was still so much easier to shift into his charming persona when cornered. Not that he was in danger. He just didn’t like to be snuck up on. “I planned to join you but looks like I missed my opportunity. Shame. Guess we’ll just have to get you dirty and try again.”

[Y/N] giggled at his antics when he kissed their ear. Without the parasite, they just have to trust what he says to them, and they do. Something Astarion would never take for granted. He also just doesn’t want to talk about what’s on his mind.

He wants to think about [Y/N] in his arms. Their fire behind them. Their bed around the corner. Their life together. Happy and content and domestic.

[orions-choker]

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Serial Killers, Murder, Obsessions, Yandere tendencies, more to be added.

Chapter One

Returning home after a whirlwind year at college had been bittersweet. There was a certain warmth and comfort that Y/N hadn’t realized she missed as soon as she saw her parents waiting car that afternoon. There was a building excitement to see her own bed once more and spend time with her childhood dog once more. On the opposite end of the spectrum came with the innate sense of losing her freedom.

It was made clear to her on that ride home that no matter how much she claimed to be an adult at nineteen years of age, staying out late each weekend, drinking and dates, wouldn’t be tolerated. Under her parents roof she was a child once more. The rules came with a valid reasoning though. While Y/N had been away two states over her hometown had been rocked to the core by something sinister.

“Sorry, how many women has it been?” Y/N asked incredulously, leaning forward from where she sat in the backseat of her dads car. Her eyes locked onto her mothers face, the worried wrinkles that settled into her face seemed to age her years despite the short time it had been since she last saw her.

leaning forward her mother turned the radio down. A heavy sigh had her shoulders slumping “Six bodies found, three other women missing.” She explained, her bottom lip was chapped, skin peeling from where she seemed to incessantly pick at it. “We discussed sending you money to stay near your school this summer instead.”

With an aggravated groan her father pressed a little harder on the gas, sending the car lurching forward as it switched gears. “Don’t scare the girl Jesus, it's not that bad.” Her father attempted to assure her of her safety poorly. “You’ll be fine, our neighborhood has always been safe.”

“I’m not so sure with those, what do you call them? Metalheads? That the Hammett boy brings around.” Her mothers mention of her neighbor surprised Y/N. Kirk had been Y/N’s neighbor since she was about ten years old, a few years older than herself.

They had barely interacted in her youth, in part because of the small age difference, and also because of how shy she had been, harboring a small crush on him until she reached her teenage years. He had been unassuming though, quiet and reserved. She couldn’t even recall hearing his voice the entire time they had lived beside each other.

To hear about the crowd he had associated himself with now surprised her. “Metalheads, really mom?” Y/N chuckled, leaning back into her seat once more. Outside the windows she began to see the familiar scenery of home. “Didn’t realize you were so judge-y.”

Her piercing eyes locked onto Y/N’s as she spun in her seat. “You would be too if you saw the pictures they’re posting in the papers of these young women butchered.” her tone was cold and scolding. There was an underlying fear beneath the words.

“I’m not here to argue with your mom, but good job succumbing to the satanic panic bullshit.” She rolled her eyes, choking back a laugh as her mom gasped at her language. “Plus Kirk couldn’t hurt a fly. I doubt he hangs out with monsters and serial killers.”

The car fell silent after that, a thick tension falling over the three of them. The turn off the highway down the suburban streets brought her closer and closer to home. Familiar yards and trees prefaced her arrival. Pulling into the asphalt driveway of her childhood home had her bouncing in her seat.

Before the engine shut off Y/N was barreling out of the car, ignoring the warnings to slow down. Looming over her was the cozy slice of suburbia she had missed amongst the busy city life. With a loud whoop and holler she pushed open the front door. “Mavey Baby!” She called out excitedly, hearing the frantic scratching of nails along the hardwood floor.

Coming around the corner was a large golden Labrador mix. The dog was a mess of floppy ears and flapping jowls as it tackled Y/N to the floor with an excited bark. In a fit of giggles she allowed the gentle mauling to take place. Her face nearly soaked by the rough tongue as the two excitedly greeted each other.

“I know girl! I know I missed you too!” She sighed happily and scratched the fur behind her ears. Y/N pulled herself up from the floor in time for her father to enter with her heavy bags. “Thanks daddy!” She smiled sweetly at the clearly agitated man.

He ignored her with a grunt, making his way up the stairs slowly. She followed him with a bounce in each of her steps. As much as she had tried to make her dorm room feel like home, nothing would compare to her room. Her sanctuary.

It was just how she left it, despite her mothers warnings she would turn it into a home gym. Her dusty pink walls covered in art she had done, posters of bands and movies that shaped her teenage years. Her duvet covered in a light floral pattern, pillows piled high amongst her stuffed animals.

Y/N pushed past her father as he dropped the bags to the floor, running to the desk on the far side of the room. She fiddled with the radio sitting there, there was a soft crackle before the room filled with music. By the time she turned around the room had been left empty, allowing her to rummage through her bags and begin organizing.

The carpet was soft beneath her as she sat on the floor. Mindlessly she pulled her clothes and makeup from the bags, placing them in neat piles around her. The music from her radio fizzled out, the voices of the town's radio hosts replacing the noise. Their usually pleasant tone was replaced with something somber.

“More news this morning, another body found, confirmed to be the remains of-” Y/N’s ears perked up, her hands stilling as she paused her task. She recognized the name, an older girl she had seen around town. It was heartbreaking news. “In a similar fashion to the previous open cases she was found gutted and left in the riverways. This brings the growing number of cases to seven. Our condolences to the family.” It seemed cruel the way it transitioned into the fun beat of the latest Prince song.

“Condolences my ass,” Y/N muttered under her breath, standing up to change the channel. As she approached the desk she peered out the large open window, it overlooked the side of her house and the shared backyard with the neighbors.

Sitting in the backyard on the Hammett’s side of the property was a small group of people, Kirk's friends she could surmise. A lot of wild teased hair, black denim and beer cans scattered about. It seemed tame compared to her mother’s complaints. Curiously enough she couldn’t spot her neighbor, eyes scanning amongst the people for the scrawny nerdy boy.

A pair of big brown eyes seemed to find hers as she looked. A pair of eyes she was familiar enough with when they were behind large wire framed glasses. Her mouth popped open in a small gasp. His curly black hair had grown out, falling past his shoulders, his lanky limbs looked like they finally fit his body now. She almost didn’t believe it was him stretched out across the plastic chair, in tight black jeans and a leather jacket slung around his shoulders. Not until he smiled at her, giving her a small wave.

The acknowledgment that she had been staring had Y/N dropping to the floor out of view of the window. Her face pressed against the carpet and her heart seemed to beat erratically as if it was trying to escape her ribcage. Thoughts swirling through her mind finally landing on the conclusion it was unfair he had become so pretty in the year that she had been gone.

Y/N didn’t dare move from her position until her mother appeared in the door frame. Her eyebrow quirked, hands placed on her hips. “What are you doing Y/N?” Her voice was flat and unimpressed.

Slowly she pushed herself off the ground, avoiding looking out the window once more. Smiling tightly at her mom she responded. “Clearly I missed my room so much I had to get reacquainted with the floors.” She gestured down to the imprint she had left on the carpet. “What are you doing mom?” Y/N eyed where her mom stood, warning her not to cross the invisible boundary into her room.

“Telling you, your dad is Barbequing tonight and you need to come help me outside.” She turned on her heel, shooting Y/N an equally testing look as she barked the order.

“Outside? Like in the back?” Y/N felt panic rise in her throat like bile. She could not go out there.

Her mother scoffed annoyed. “Yes outside Y/N, god forbid you spend time with your family after not seeing us all year.” The way her voice clipped told Y/N there was no escaping this cruel and unjust fate. She rolled her head back and groaned loudly. Still obediently she followed her mother down the stairs. “Your grandparents and cousins are coming over to welcome you back.”

The house was empty downstairs, her dad already outside starting up the grill. In the kitchen were stacks of plastic cutlery and paper plates, pitchers ready for lemonade and a large salad bowl. “God mom it’s not that big of a deal.” Y/N grumbled, gathering the dishes in her arms and heading towards the sliding glass door that led to their back deck.

If she simply never turned towards the neighbors side of the yard she could ignore the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. The warm afternoon wind whipped up her sundress lightly as she stepped onto the deck where her father was. Very faintly she could hear the hum of the music across the way, easily tuned out if they were to put something on of their own. Still her Mothers face twitched in annoyance.

“Here dad, brought you your tongs.” Y/N said, handing the utensil to her dad. Her neck felt stiff as she purposefully avoided the gaze she could feel burning a hole in the back of her head. “Do you guys need me out here until everyone shows up?” She whined lightly, looking at her mom with pleading eyes.

Her mom hissed at her. “Y/N knock it off, don’t be a brat.”

Grabbing the tongs from her hand, her dad gave her a questioning look. He opened his mouth to speak before Y/N quickly shook her head. She strode across the deck, throwing herself into the seat of the porch swing causing it to rock gently. Her parents gave each other an exasperated look.

In her peripheral vision she could barely make out the shapes of the people in the yard beside theirs, still it felt as though she could feel Kirk’s heavy gaze upon her. Idly her fingers picked at the stitching along the hem of her dress, tracing the shapes of the small floral pattern.

Y/N couldn’t take it, her skin felt as if it was on fire. Her eyes snapped up, drawn to Kirk’s like she was being pulled by an otherworldly force. His eyebrow raised, a small smirk settling on his face. He raised a beer in his hand, gesturing his head in invitation.

With wide eyes Y/N looked between her parents who had busied themselves preparing for guests. Looking back to the boy across the way he shrugged at her with a smile. Her body rose from its seat without a second thought, Y/N frowned, feeling betrayed by her own feet as she took the steps down into the grassy backyard. “Y/N? What are you doing sweetheart?” Her dad’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of her mom as well.

With a sputter Y/N was able to choke out the words, gesturing lamely to the small gathering of people where Kirk sat. “Just going to say hi to the neighbors?” Her voice and confidence wavered. She tore off, speed walking away from her mothers complaints. The grass tickled her bare ankles as she approached Kirk's yard, clearly less maintained than her own family's picture perfect lawn. She could see Kirk’s smile grow wider as she approached. Since when was he so expressive and…confident?

“Hey Y/N, long time no see.” Kirk’s voice nearly betrayed his outward appearance. It matched perfectly to her previous image of him. Soft and boyish, a little higher pitched. It was cute and did little to ease her nerves. He stood from his seat, reaching into the cooler beside him and offering her drink.

She eyed the can nervously, remembering her parents warnings of being alcohol free this summer. She shook her head with a polite smile. “Ahh, sorry no thanks I have family coming over in a bit.” She excused herself. “Good to see you too.” inwardly she cursed herself for the way her voice seemed to raise in pitch, sounding like a frightened mouse.

Feeling incredibly out of place amongst the crowd that Kirk had gathered she shuffled her weight awkwardly from one foot to another. Kirk’s smile didn’t fade as he dropped the drink back into the cooler. “All good, hopefully I didn’t steal you away from anything too important?” He questioned, pulling up a chair for her across from his own.

The music was louder now, a heavy pleasant thrum to her ears. She wasn’t all too familiar with metal but it was enjoyable. She sat down across from him, smoothing her dress down. “No, not really, it wasn't my idea.” She sighed. “I haven’t been gone that long. I don't see the big deal.” She grumbled with a small pout.

Kirk’s small chuckle deepend the blush on her skin. “How has college been?” He asked, leaning forward on his knees as he listened to her intently. The attention sent a pleasant tingling across her skin.

“It's been great!” Y/N grinned at him. “Honestly just getting out of the house and this town has been so freeing. Of course I miss it sometimes but I don’t think I’ll be coming back here when I graduate if you know what I mean.” She didn’t miss the small frown on his face as she spoke. “How has uh…everything been here?” She asked awkwardly.

Leaning back in his chair Kirk took a sip from his drink. “If you're asking what I'm doing, music, I play guitar.” He explained casually. “It isn’t much right now but it helps mom pay the bills.” he gestured towards the house. There was an unanswered tension in the air.

Y/N picked at the exposed skin of her knees as she spoke. “So I heard everything goin’ on in the news lately” She spoke softly. Kirk's shoulders stiffened lightly, turning to her with concern in his eyes. “I've heard about a lot of that lately in the bigger cities but I never thought about it here.” It was true across the news she had heard of the evil crimes committed across the country, but it seemed like a problem so far away, not one that she would face here.

“Yeah…” Kirk finally huffed out, swirling his drink in his hand. “It’s pretty fucked.” There was a hesitation in his words. “I didn’t know any of them personally but mutual friends you know.” The frown he had made Y/N regret bringing it up.

Opening her mouth to quickly change the subject she heard the rowdy yelling of her cousins fill the air. She turned around to look to her yard, seeing her distant family arriving. “Ahh shit, that's my cue to go.” She stood up quickly. “Talk to you later?” She asked hopefully.

The soft smile he gave her had her heat fluttering once more. “Yeah for sure, don’t be a stranger.” He waved at her once more as she turned towards her house. Something had shifted in her. A boy she hadn't paid attention to since they were children suddenly occupied her mind once more.

For the entirety of her dinner she was spaced out, eyes glazed over as she smiled dumbly down at the table. Her leg bouncing excitedly causing her mother to place a sturdy hand on her knee, shooting her an agitated glare. Still she couldn’t be bothered to care, not when a certain curly haired boy was stealing glances at her all night.

[portraitoftheoddity]

It's sad, but I find myself increasingly side-eying and avoiding folks in online spaces who talk about exclusively wanting "cozy" fiction and complaining about media that has any kind of conflict or reflection of societal ills.

Because while there's nothing innately wrong with enjoying media for escapism into an aspirational setting, the people whose media diet is exclusively cozy/soft/wholesome/hopepunk/utopian too often are people who somehow lack the capacity understand that not everyone consumes media because it reflects the world they want.

So there's enough overlap between the cozycore crowd and the people who somehow think that enjoying media with conflict or catharsis in it makes you a sociopath (because clearly if you read about something, it must mean you condone and support it and want it in the world!) that I just don't wanna dance that close to the hornet's nest, yanno?

[forsssnaken]

Aziraphale's Literary Discovery

Important note: I am no longer writing stuff like this. It was a nice way for me to be happy while in a rather precarious mental state, but I no longer enjoy it all the same way I once did. I'm keeping it up as it was a gift, and there are still people who may enjoy it, but I am unhappy with my writing how it was in this fic, and I don't enjoy writing this stuff anymore. I still write good omens fanfics now, if you want to give me a chance there.

THIS. IS. A. TICKLING. FIC. COMPLETELY. SFW.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @practickles!!! I am your squealing santa this year :)) I hope this is everything you hoped for and more!! (and now i can follow you without being worried that i'll blow my cover lol)

@squealing-santa

screw canon(/j), they are happy together and have tickles.

switch!aziraphale, switch!crowley.

cw: light mentions of alcohol/sobering up magically, cursing (because it's Crowley), using a miracle to pin someone that could be read as invisible bondage.

Aziraphale turned a page in his book, but wasn't really reading anymore. This had been happening more and more often: he would stop reading just to think about the demon who was currently asleep on his couch.

Aziraphale and Crowley had finished off some good wine last night, and instead of sobering up, Crowley had decided to sleep it off on the bookshop's couch. The angel had sobered up, reading all through the night with the occasional glance to the demon's sleeping form.

Honestly, Aziraphale prefers Crowley awake. He loves the demon's antics and being able to spend time together (although the serenity and calmness radiating off the demon's lanky form was delightful). He didn't technically need to breathe, but he did -- soft deep breaths that were almost soft snores.

Aziraphale quickly snapped himself out of the trance he had been in, staring at his friend(?), and glancing back at the book. It was a sweet romcom, one that left Aziraphale feeling giddy and with butterflies in his stomach. The couple in his book were playful, and in the current scene, were poking each other and giggling. This was a fascinating idea that humans called "tickling", which led to supposedly uncontrollable laughter and seemed like a sweet bonding exercise.

Something clicked in his mind and he looked back at Crowley asleep on the couch, limbs splayed out haphazardly. His tight-fitting shirt had risen a little, leaving a sliver of the pale skin of his lower stomach on display. Aziraphale gasped excitedly, looking back at his book where the tickle fight was happening. Supposedly, even small touches could lead to ticklish sensations!

He stood up, beginning to creep over to the sleeping figure, before realizing that Crowley could sleep through almost anything and walking over normally. The angel stared at him with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between his calm face and the sliver of exposed stomach. He tentatively reached out a finger, poking Crowley's abdomen.

There was a faint reaction, a small breath hitching in between small snores and Crowley squirmed a bit. Was Crowley ticklish?! How silly! How human! What a delightful discovery! He giddily clapped, then began tracing the sliver of exposed skin. Crowley huffed, squirmed, and scrunched up his nose a bit, before rolling over and crossing his arms over his stomach.

Aziraphale was ecstatic at his findings, and couldn't wait to enact something rather devious (by his standards)!

|

|

A few days later, he woke a grumpy Crowley up from his nap (and if Crowley became less grumpy when he noticed that he was covered in a cozy blanket, the angel didn't need to know). Aziraphale had a mission: go on a date -- a Friend Date (he told himself, at least) -- and bring up tickling to him! The angel had an innate need to tickle Crowley now, see his presumably adorable reactions, and have the physical contact that the angel began to crave.

"Come on, Crowley!" Aziraphale grinned, pulling the demon into a seated position by his hand.

Crowley grumbled, "For what?"

Crowley seemed entirely uninterested, but in truth, he loved spending time with Aziraphale and would do anything if Aziraphale truly wanted to spend time with him.

"A picnic!" Aziraphale gestured to a wicker basket stocked full of goodies.

Crowley rolled his eyes (but was truly content with this plan), put his shoes on, and drove them to a gorgeous woodsy park. When they had found their own spot, Aziraphale spread out a blanket on the grass, sat down, and began unpacking some small sandwiches and poured them both a glass of wine.

"Not so much now, my dear boy," He handed Crowley the wine, "I'd like you awake for a little while. It's dreadfully boring being all alone and reading by myself!"

He got nothing but a grunt in return, but everything was perfect, so Aziraphale continued on with his ramblings.

In between bites of his sandwiches, he told Crowley all about the books he had been reading, but especially about the lovely rom-com he had just read.

"They had such a lovely relationship! Human love just excites me so much! They do so many sweet things together, not unlike us!"

"Ngk-" Crowley choked slightly on his wine and turned a bit pink, but Aziraphale didn't seem to notice.

"They certainly touched a lot more than we do, though, Crowley!" The angel pouted.

Crowley shrugged, "We're not having sex."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale's mouth gaped as he gasped, smacking the demon softly on his leg, "Don't say that! They touched plenty without sexual implications!"

Crowley sipped his wine, not needing to respond.

"They cuddled, and kissed, and even- well," Aziraphale cut himself off, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

This now intrigued Crowley, who sat up a bit, and looked at Aziraphale, scooting closer so they were side by side.

He teased Aziraphale, "Oh? Was it sexual then? You realized I was right and you were wrong?"

Aziraphale huffed indignantly, "No! I'm just not sure if you even know what it is!"

Oh, Crowley was so up for a challenge. "I'm sure I would! I know much more about humans than you do."

Aziraphale leaned closer, grinning and placing a hand on the blanket behind Crowley, so they were almost touching. "Oh really?"

Crowley smirked and nodded, taking his sunglasses off and stowing them safely in the picnic basket, so he could look at Aziraphale in the eyes to show him how serious he was.

"Yes, they were tickling each other!" Aziraphale grinned, hoping that Crowley wouldn't know about tickling, so he could teach him.

"Oh, that? How would I not know about that?" Crowley didn't let anything slip, so Aziraphale thought it might be possible that he just didn't know.

"Yes, I think that's quite intimate," Aziraphale reached out and placed a hand on Crowley's knee, "it seems sweet to me!"

Crowley grumbled, avoiding eye contact awkwardly. "What, is this your way of asking me to tickle you?"

Aziraphale stammered, protesting quickly, "Why would I want that?!"

Now it was Crowley's turn to look offended, "There's nothing wrong with wanting that!"

Aziraphale was now slightly grumpy; this wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Crowley had that devilish (albeit attractive) grin across his face, placing a hand on Aziraphale's side.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to goHO-" Aziraphale smacked a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Crowley, that evil, evil demon, had squeezed Aziraphale's side! What a terrible thing for his corperal form to feel! Aziraphale, in all his planning, could not have anticipated this!

A small smirk crept across Crowley's face as he put the other hand on Aziraphale's clothed side and squeezed a few times in a row.

Aziraphale's hands flew down from his mouth to his sides, weakly pushing at Crowley's hands as he laughed heartily. His smile was beautiful. It was, well, angelic.

Crowley was right. Aziraphale thought this was quite nice. He hadn't laughed this hard in a while, and seeing Crowley's enjoyment of his reactions was amazing!

Crowley smiled widely, skittering his nimble fingers along Aziraphale's gorgeous plush stomach, before refocusing his attention on Aziraphale's thighs. Aziraphale's magnificently scrumptious thighs, currently busy with Aziraphale's frantically kicking feet. Crowley stopped, giving Aziraphale a small break, before placing his hands on those delightful thighs.

Aziraphale was not worried in the slightest; he had never heard of someone's thighs being ticklish, just the usual suspects like the upper body, feet, neck, and hips. But thighs? That seemed silly... until Crowley started squeezing them.

Aziraphale barked out a laugh, falling gently on his back as he was unable to hold himself sitting up. He made noises that were so embarrassing: he even squealed! Crowley was unwavering in his ticklish squeezing, grinning broadly. Aziraphale was laughing harder than he ever had, his head shaking back and forth as he laughed frantically, beginning to push at Crowley's hands again. This was Crowley's cue to slow down, and he moved his hands back up to the angel's stomach to gently trace shapes as Aziraphale recovered.

"Y- you're evil!" Aziraphale gasped, still giggling.

"I'm a demon, that's kind of the whole point," Crowley deadpanned, although unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Aziraphale caught his breath, then grabbed Crowley's hands. Crowley's eyes widened slightly, but he tried to play it off, scoffing.

Aziraphale sat up quickly, pushing Crowley onto his back and pinning him there with shocking strength. Crowley looked at him confused and began squirming awkwardly. Aziraphale had fully sat on his hips, pinning his arms above his head as he leaned over the demon, their faces quite close together.

"What? How did you-" Crowley stammered, baffled by Aziraphale's strength, "What are you doing?"

Aziraphale grinned, excited to give Crowley all the exposition of his plan. "When I was reading that book, I tried tickling you, when you were asleep. I poked you, and you reacted! I have to try it again!"

Crowley blushed a bit, before retorting, "Angel, anyone would react to being poked. I'm not ticklish, I'm a demon. Being ticklish is all- cute and innocent. I'm neither of those things."

"I beg to differ," Aziraphale grinned, slipping his warm hand under Crowley's tight shirt, beginning to trace circles on Crowley's stomach.

Crowley's brain short circuted. Not only was the angel on top of him, but he was touching Crowley more intimately than they'd ever touched. And Crowley did feel something -- was that being ticklish?

Crowley squirmed, averting his eyes from Aziraphale's as he clamped his mouth shut.

Aziraphale, ever so oblivious, was slightly upset that it didn't really effect Crowley like it did when he was asleep. Maybe he was controlling his reactions? Maybe he truly was right and wasn't ticklish!

Aziraphale huffed, "You really reacted the other day, I promise!"

Crowley was trying his best to not react, his serpentine eyes flicking towards Aziraphale's well-manicured hand, still tracing under his shirt.

"Ngk- just give it a rest, angel!" Crowley sputtered, feeling giggles (Yes, giggles! Demons aren't supposed to giggle!) bubbling up in his chest.

Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit hopeless; he thought it would have been incredibly endearing if Crowley was ticklish. The demon barely smiled (not counting his mischievous smirks), and Aziraphale would love to hear him laugh, truly laugh, for the first time in years. Aziraphale pouted and decided to give it one last go.

He poked Crowley in the side.

Crowley gasped, jumped, and made awkward eye contact with the angel on top of him.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was ecstatic! A giddy smile broke across his face.

"No, angel, no. I was just startled-" Crowley said quickly, squirming.

"Oh my dear Crowley, my dear silly demon..." Aziraphale grinned.

"No angel I-" Crowley couldn't focus on being called Aziraphale's, due to the imminent danger of him being tickled.

Much to his dismay, Aziraphale began ruthlessly skittering his fingers over Crowley's stomach and sides. Damn his fashionable outfits! The shirt he was wearing was incredibly thin and did nothing to protect him from the angel's attack.

Crowley tried to keep his mouth shut and hide his reactions, but his attempts were futile. He burst out into loud laughter and squirmed as much as he could (which wasn't much). It made sense why tickling was used as a torture method in the past; he would have given up any secret that Aziraphale could ask for in this moment! Although, there was something nice about it: the intimacy, the giddy feeling, and Aziraphale's touch gave him a rush of happiness.

"Why are you laughing, my dear boy? Thought of something devious? Scheming?" Aziraphale laughed along with Crowley -- for such a supposedly evil being, he sure had a contagious laugh -- and scribbled his fingers even faster. "Or are you just... ticklish?"

And if Crowley's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, he hoped Aziraphale didn't notice.

"You're- teasing- me!" He sputtered indignantly, through bright, happy laughter.

Aziraphale paused, pretending to look offended, "No I'm not! I'm simply asking questions to figure out why you're laughing so much!"

In the midst of talking, he wasn't paying attention to what his hands were doing. His hands moved down to the hem of Crowley's shirt, causing the demon to jump, eyes wide.

Aziraphale's eyebrow raised quickly, "Oh?"

Crowley shook his head, stammering "No," and tugging on his hands.

As both of them knew, although the angel's corporeal form was strong, Crowley could easily have gotten his arms free by non-human means. Maybe he just didn't want to.

The most devilish grin to ever cross an angels face suddenly appeared on Aziraphale's. He let go of Crowley's arms, but not before preforming a miracle that kept his arms trapped in place, taut above his head.

Crowley's snake-like eyes grew wider as he tugged frantically on his arms, beginning to giggle nervously. His whole 'bad boy' persona was completely gone now, and he was quite enjoying this (though he'd never admit such a silly thing).

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale teased, wiggling his fingers at the squirming demon, "are you prepared for your demise?"

That shut Crowley up.

Until Aziraphale did something truly evil. Something so evil that even the higher-ups in Hell couldn't dream of. He repeatedly squeezed Crowley's hips.

Crowley made the most embarrassing noise possible -- he squealed.

"AAAAZiraphale!!!" He laughed, wiggling as much as possible, "YOU BASSSSTARD!!"

Curse that stupid hissing. Usually he was able to disguise it, whenever Aziraphale caught him off guard with accidental(?) flirting or made a silly joke that a big bad demon like himself shouldn't laugh at. Speaking of laughing, Crowley was laughing more than he ever had in his life.

And it felt amazing. Having his angel so close to him in such an intimate way, literally on top of him. He was able to let his guard down.

The angel gasped, "What did you just call me, my dear boy?!"

Aziraphale skittered his fingers around Crowley's stomach and sides, relishing in the rare and genuine laughter.

Luckily, although neither of them could be sure if it was intentional or not, Aziraphale's miracle that pinned Crowley's hand was slowly faltering. Crowley didn't realize (he was laughing too hard to think about much) until his arms subconsciously snapped down to grab at Aziraphale's hands.

Aziraphale paused his attack, concerned about his friend(?). Crowley looked at him, as his leftover giggles became slightly more devious.

Crowley latched his clawed hands onto Aziraphale's clothed sides and rapidly squeezed, disrupting the power that Aziraphale had held over him, and toppling them both over onto their sides, facing each other.

Aziraphale tickled Crowley back, angelic giggles pouring out of his mouth.

"You- you're such a demon!" He exclaimed through loud laughter.

Crowley nodded, squirming closer to Aziraphale as they tickled each other.

They were practically cuddling as their fingers slowed to tracing each other's abdomens, softly giggling.

Aziraphale stared into Crowley's gorgeous auburn eyes and was struck with a sense of overwhelming love.

Crowley's smile was wider than it should have been from leftover giggles as he watched the angel and his smile and gorgeous face. As if God Herself had heard his thoughts, sunlight struck the angel's face in a certain way where he looked like he was glowing (although he may have been radiating an otherworldly glow from overwhelming happiness).

They stayed there for a while, in each others arms, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

If you made it this far, thank you. Reblogs help writers and artists on tumblr a lot, so consider reblogging if you enjoyed <3. If you'd like, send me an ask if you want to talk about anything (related or unrelated to this fic), as it motivates me to write more.

[sapphicromanoffxo]

Lucky Ones | v. Missing Piece

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 3,429

Warnings: Mommy kink, strap on use, spanking, dirty talk, praise kink, squirting, choking, dom/sub dynamic

Summary: Natasha's past is slowly catching up with the present.

A/N: I edited the second chapter and added a tiny information. You can read that one again if you'd like. :)

»»-----------► Series Masterlist

The weather in New York during the start of November carries a gentle breeze, which Natasha particularly enjoys. She has a preference for colder climates, relishing the opportunity to layer her clothing and complete her daily outfits with cozy boots. Perhaps it's her Russian upbringing that influenced this preference, as she lived for years in a predominantly cold climate region before moving to America.

Natasha was having a rather relaxed day at work, and got bored with watching the world through her glass walls so she decided to give her Mom a call, and Milena answered promptly.

"Nat! I'm so delighted you reached out. How's my little one?" Milena inquired with such genuine warmth.

"Mom, I'm actually 35 now. I'm not your little one anymore," Natasha replied with a playful sigh.

"Oh Nat, age doesn't matter; you'll always be my cherished child who used to ask for a glass of milk when she couldn't sleep."

This comment brought a smile to Natasha's face. "Well, I guess milk does work wonders for insomnia."

The two women continued their conversation, catching up on the latest updates from the orphanage and how they were handling the new children.

Listening to Milena's updates triggered memories of Natasha's time at the orphanage. She had been just 13 years old, a teenager, when she found herself in that place. Milena had made sure to create a homey atmosphere, always attentive to her needs, and eager to ensure her comfort. She had been a shy kid who rarely spoke, but Milena's care and kindness had slowly helped her come out of her shell.

Milena's innate motherly instincts stirred within her when it came to Natasha, and she couldn't quite pinpoint the exact reason she felt such a strong connection. Perhaps it was their shared Russian heritage that provided a common bond. Natasha had previously lived in Ohio and was placed in the orphanage by the US government. Milena immediately attended to Natasha, her fragile frame spoke volumes about the hardships she had endured, and her green eyes, once filled with youthful curiosity, now bore the weight of a past too heavy for someone so young.

Milena couldn't help but feel an intense protectiveness toward Natasha. One day, she confided in her husband, Alexei, expressing her desire to adopt Natasha. Understanding the goodness in Natasha's heart, Alexei readily agreed to Milena's heartfelt wish.

The journey through the adoption process was lengthy, but Milena remained resolute in her determination. It wasn't until Natasha reached the age of 15 that the adoption was finalised. That's the first time in Natasha's life where she saw the light again and Milena couldn't contain her joy upon hearing the news. She welcomed Natasha into their loving home.

However, life wasn't all smooth sailing and happiness, as the new parents recognized the need to enroll Natasha in therapy. Natasha had faced a difficult pas and Milena saw this as an opportunity to help Natasha heal, but Natasha was initially hesitant.

"Malysh, this is important for your well-being. It can help you in dealing with your past, and remember, both Alexei and I will be there with you every step of the way," Milena reassured Natasha, gently trying to convince her to give therapy a chance.

"I understand its importance, but I'd rather dedicate my time fully to my education. I have a lot to catch up on since I missed out some years. Please, I'd rather not go to therapy," Natasha pleaded, her hopes resting on Milena's understanding.

Milena carefully considered her options, mindful not to push Natasha into something she had no interest in. She recognized that forcing Natasha into therapy could potentially cause more harm than good.

"Alright, no therapy for now," Milena began, noticing Natasha's readiness for a counterargument. "But," she continued, her tone gentle, "Malysh, please hear me out first." She sighed with relief when Natasha nodded.

"As your mother now, I bear the responsibility for your well-being. Let's find a compromise. How about during your summer break, you can see a therapist, perhaps once or twice a week? I know someone who can help us arrange this."

Natasha contemplated Milena's proposal deeply and eventually gave in.

"Alright, I'll see a therapist only during my summer break," Natasha said with a hint of defeat in her voice, dreading the possibility of her past being revisited, which brought her nothing but discomfort.

"Thank you, dear. I only want what's best for you, do you understand?" Milena reassured her.

"Yes, Milena," Natasha replied with a sense of acceptance.

"Dorogaya, I don't want to take up any more of your time. We will see you here for your birthday, yes?" Milena asked Natasha.

At that moment, Natasha realised that her birthday was just a month away, and she had already made a promise to her mother.

"Of course, I'll be there. I'm looking forward to seeing the changes that you have done at the orphanage," Natasha replied, though her enthusiasm was somewhat muted.

"I must thank you, both for your generous donations and your Dad's. They're making a real difference for the children in need," Milena acknowledged.

"No need to thank me, Mom. I have to give back somehow." Natasha said sincerely.

"You truly don't have to, but your generosity means a lot, not just to me, but to all the kids here," Milena reassured her.

Natasha still wasn't entirely accustomed to Milena's kind compliments, so she remained silent on the other end of the line. The call concluded a few minutes later, leaving Natasha alone with her thoughts. The same question that crossed her mind every day: "Where would I be without Milena?" She sighed deeply and returned to work, attempting to distract herself from dwelling on the past.

*

At 6 PM, Natasha's phone rang, and it was Wanda who was calling her.

"Wanda, is everything alright?" Natasha asked with concern in her voice.

"Yes, everything's fine. I was just wondering if you're done with work? Maybe we could meet up and head home together," Wanda suggested.

"I'm just wrapping up some reports, but I can drive over to your university instead. How does that sound, dear?" Natasha offered.

"Sure, that works! I'll be waiting outside the gate for you. See you later!"

Natasha ended the call and began packing her things. She had something special in mind for tonight, and she hoped Wanda wouldn't be too tired for it.

*

The two women returned home safely, and as they entered, Wanda wasted no time in getting started on preparing dinner. For Wanda, cooking was her way of expressing gratitude for everything Natasha did for her, and she firmly believed in the old saying, "The way to a person's heart is through their stomach."

"So, what's on the menu for tonight, Chef Wanda?" Natasha inquired playfully.

"I thought we could have chicken paprikash. Does that sound good to you?" Wanda asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.

"I'm actually in the mood for bending you over on that counter." Natasha mumbles to herself while she is scrolling through her phone.

"Huh? Did you say something?" Wanda was confused with whatever Natasha could have said.

"Nothing, I said chicken paprikash sounds good." Natasha smiled to herself hiding her devilish grin.

Dinner was fantastic as always. Wanda indeed has a natural talent with cooking but Natasha is impatient for her planned dessert.

"Detka, come over here, please."

Wanda promptly went to the couch and abandoned what she's doing in the kitchen as she immediately sat on Natasha's lap.

"I want to do something tonight and I hope you're open to it." Natasha is slowly caressing Wanda's thighs, teasing her way into making Wanda say yes.

"What is it?" Wanda asked with great curiosity.

"I badly want to fuck you with my cock. Would you like that?" Natasha went straight to the point with no hesitation.

Wanda's thoughts momentarily froze, a whirlwind of excitement and fear swirling within her as Natasha's proposal hung in the air. She would agree with whatever Natasha wants, there is no doubt about it. Wanda was acutely aware that this was the moment when Natasha would unleash her inner predator, and she willingly embraced the role of the willing prey.

"Yes, Miss. I would like that very much."

Natasha will never get tired of seeing how easily Wanda would get into her subspace. A simple command would make her all desperate and needy.

"Go to my room. I want you naked in my bed and make sure you are on your fours."

"Alright, Miss." Wanda stood hastily, her excitement is too obvious in the way she walks and squeezes her thighs.

"What a fucking slut." Natasha whispered to herself, so pleased with Wanda's obedience.

Natasha counted to 50 before heading up to her bedroom. She makes sure that she's in the right headspace before starting anything with Wanda.

Natasha opened the door and was delighted to see Wanda's ass facing her immediately.

"My my. Look at you, kitten. You sure do know how to follow instructions." Natasha needs to build up further Wanda's subspace in order for her to get what she wants.

"Do you know about safe word, Wanda?" Natasha inquired with Wanda since this is her first time.

"No, miss."

"But you do know about the traffic light system?" The older woman inquired even more.

"Yes, Miss. I do know about it."

"It could be applied here as well, if you say green, it means you enjoy what I am doing to you and we will proceed with it. Yellow means you want me to take it slow, and red means stop. I want you to decide your own safe word but I like the simplicity of the color system."

"I want my safe word to be krasnyy."

Natasha was almost not surprised by the chosen word and for Wanda to know the Russian language.

"That means red in Russian. Very well."

Natasha approached the closet where she hides her kinky accessories and reached up to retrieve her trusted harness and a thin rope. It's been a while since she used them and the thought of using them on Wanda thrills her to no end. She attached the harness on her hips and she is contemplating what size of dildo would be sufficient for tonight, since this Wanda's first time, she will use the 7-inch dildo. There's no doubt that she will make it fit through Wanda's tight pussy.

The older woman stood behind Wanda and placed a towel below Wanda's torso then spanked her ass with out any warning.

"Miss!" It made Wanda scream from her throat as the stinging pain in her ass came unexpectedly.

"I hope you know that I noticed every attempt you are making in touching me. Let this be a warning to never ever touch me without permission. Is that clear?" The sound of the second spank reverated inside the room.

Wanda'a eyes widened as her plans were easily busted by the older woman. "Yes, Miss! I'm sorry!"

"Hmm. Let's see about that."

Natasha has no consideration for foreplay tonight. She usually makes Wanda come first through her tongue before she fingers her. But tonight, Natasha would set a firm warning for the younger woman.

"Open your legs wider and put your hands behind your back." Wanda followed the instructions, Natasha grabbed the thin rope then started tying Wanda's wrist on a tight knot. She can't let Wanda's hand roam around her body anymore.

Wanda is easily aroused by Natasha and the obvious dominant stance that is being shown at the very moment which adds more stimulation on her head. Wanda heard the clicking nose and dared to look behind her. She saw Natasha lathering the dildo with a good amount of lubricant and the slow stroking movement made her squeeze her thighs for temporary pleasure.

Natasha positioned the toy in front of the younger woman's core. A sinister voice is whispering in Natasha's ear to penetrate Wanda immediately, however, this needs to be taken as gently as possible. She can go as rough as she wants once Wanda is adjusted anyway.

Natasha buried her cock as slowly as she can muster. Wanda groans at every inch that goes inside her and further stretching her pussy.

"Fuck! Miss! Shit! I don't think it will fit. You're so big– ahhh!" Wanda couldn't even finish her sentence as the pleasure consumes her sanity.

"Baby, you can take it. I will make it fit on this tight pussy of yours."

Wanda simply nodded and trusted Natasha with her pleasure.

Once the cock is all buried inside Wanda, Natasha took it out slowly and rammed back in making Wanda moan in wanton.

Natasha started her brutal thrust and did not slow down upon hearing Wanda's blissful whimpers.

"Natty, please! Slow down a bit. You're so— hmmp!" Wanda pleaded since she's too overwhelmed with the intense mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Huh? We are not slowing down, detka. I know you like being fucked like a whore with your ass on display like this." Natasha's cruel words are getting into Wanda's head which made her respond in an unexpected way.

"Yes yes! Mommy, please fuck me harder!"

Bingo. Natasha grinned like a madwoman that she is at the moment. Another theory has been tested right. This girl is going to be the death of her.

Natasha leaned forward, closer to Wanda and growled at her while she grabbed Wanda's hair, "Say it again for me, baby girl. Go on. Tell mommy how you like to fucked."

"Ahhhh! Mommy mommy! Fuck me like a slut that I am. Go faster, please!"

The bedroom is filled with Natasha's unforgiving thrusts combined with the sound of the slapping of flesh against one another. Natasha is gripping Wanda's hips so hard which is gonna leave a bruise right after.

Natasha's right hand then grabbed a fistful of Wanda's hair and pulled her closer to her chest. "What a fucking slut. Telling Mommy what she wants. You need to learn how to accept what is being given!" Natasha growled in Wanda's ear while she's still abusing her tight hole and her thrusts are unmerciful.

Wanda can no longer comprehend what is going on in her head as Natasha is hitting all the right places inside her. "Mommy, just like that. Please don't stop. I'm so close. Please please!"

"I wish I have a real dick right now. I bet your squeezing me so fucking hard. This pussy is mine to fuck. You understand?" Natasha emphasised her words by wrapping her left hand on Wanda's throat and choking the younger woman. She makes sure she's applying the correct pressure in order to make Wanda feel lightheaded.

"Fuck, yes! This pussy is yours ahh– Mommy! I'm cumming!"

"Cum on my dick, you fucking slut!" Natasha growled and continued her powerful thrusts which made Wanda squirt, intensifying the orgasm even further.

Natasha's movements slowed down eventually and pulled the toy out then removed it all together from her hips, also taking away the towel underneath Wanda. Taking a small damp towel, Natasha gently cleansed Wanda's thighs, carefully untied the knots that had previously bound Wanda's wrists and examed the faint red imprints they had left behind. Natasha then proceeded to apply a soothing lotion to Wanda's wrists to reduce the noticeable marks.

Wanda slumped on the bed and was silent for the first few minutes, trying to regain her wits and mind.

"Wanda, are you with me?"

Wanda found herself momentarily lost in thought, something had slipped her mind and mouth during their passionate moment.

"Wanda?" Natasha repeated, a hint of concern in her voice, as she started to become alarmed by Wanda's silence.

"I'm sorry," Wanda finally spoke up.

"What for, baby?" Natasha inquired with a gentle tone.

"I said something earlier. I didn't expect myself to say it," Wanda confessed.

Noticing Wanda's hesitation, Natasha probed further. "What did you say? I'm sure you said many things, but I'd like you to be more specific, sweetheart." Natasha shifted, lying on her side to face Wanda, who remained in the same position.

"Well, I, uh... I called you 'Mommy.' I feel so embarrassed about it," Wanda mumbled, hiding her face in the pillows and unable to meet Natasha's gaze.

"Detka, please, look at me," Natasha gently urged, and Wanda slowly lifted her face to meet Natasha's understanding gaze.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with what you said. In fact, I like it very much," Natasha reassured Wanda gently while caressing Wanda's back.

"You do? You don't find it strange that I called you that?" Wanda asked, her uncertainty evident.

"No, baby. It is perfectly fine with me. You're perfect. I promise. So stop that pretty mind of yours from overthinking. Okay?"

"Alright. If you say so." Wanda replied with a small smile, feeling reassured.

Both women cleaned themselves separately as what happens every night. Tonight, Natasha made her warning clear to Wanda to refrain from touching her, and this warning is embedded in her mind. But Wanda can still try if she wants to, right?

"How was your day, baby?" Natasha initiated a conversation when they got back in bed since she's too keyed up after tonight's activities.

"Nothing much happened today. It was a slow day for me. But we had a transferee, her name is MJ. She looks familiar, and I couldn't quite place where I'd seen her before. So, I decided to approach her after our class," she explained.

"Interesting. How did that conversation go?" Natasha inquired.

"Do you remember the orphanage I told you about, the one in New Jersey?"

Natasha concealed her emotions as best as she could. "Yes, I recall. The one where you and Pietro stayed, yes?"

"That's the one. It turns out, MJ was there as well not long after Pietro and I arrived. But I don't think we ever became friends during our time there, since she was adopted."

"How long did you both stay at the orphanage?" Natasha tried to play pretend in her questions to appear interested.

"Well, we were placed there when we were 12 years old. Then, they enrolled us in a program to catch up on our education because we had missed out on so much. Then we left when we turned 18. So, in total, we spent 6 years there."

Changing the subject, Natasha asked, "So, where is Pietro now? I realise we haven't talked much about him lately." She wanted to steer the conversation away from the sensitive topic.

"We talk through the phone every now and then. He's a scholar since he is a race track runner in Michigan. Would you like to meet him one day?" Wanda asked enthusiastically.

"Sure, baby. I want to meet your twin brother of course."

"Thank you, Natty. You are the best." Wanda beamed, her happiness evident as she leaned in to plant a loving kiss on Natasha's lips. "I think we should get some rest now. You've completely worn me out tonight."

Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at Wanda's confession. "Alright, sleep it is. Good night, detka." She pressed a tender kiss to Wanda's forehead before adjusting herself in bed, positioning herself as the big spoon.

"Good night, Natty." Wanda drew Natasha's arm closer to her and slowly drifted into peaceful slumber.

As Natasha lay there, her thoughts began to drift, and she contemplated how long she could keep her past from Wanda. She'd noticed how openly Wanda wore her heart on her sleeve and looks at her like she's the best thing on earth while unaware of her checkered past. Wanda had a way of making her experience emotions she thought she wasn't capable of feeling. Wanda is like a radiant sun that disperses the darkness of her gloomy days, and, as cliché as it may sound, she truly embodies that sentiment.

However, a sense of fear loomed over Natasha, she dreaded the possibility that if Wanda were to ever discover the truth, she might choose to leave, run away from her and the tangled web of secrets that had defined Natasha's life.

It wasn't that Natasha was deliberately lying to Wanda. She was simply omitting important information that could potentially change or destroy their relationship. She held onto the hope that one day, she would gather the courage to share her past, to open up and reveal the parts of herself she'd kept hidden for so long. And in that moment, she could only pray to the heavens above that Wanda would understand and accept her, scars and all.

[isa-ghost]

Uhhhhh maybe qphil building/terraforming things? Idk man I like boosh boosh and that's all I can think of rn lol

Ooh that's a tough one at first glance. Lemme *thinks so hard brain starts smoking*

qPhil headcanons masterlist

See, at least in the past, he wasn't so much building as he was restoring. Those weren't his builds, they were the builds of the gods. He simply fixed and added to them.

On QI however, he builds obv. He does it mostly for the enjoyment of others. Chayanne, Lullah, Missa, maybe others. He tries not to build a lot bc he doesn't want to give The Federation more of his time or effort than necessary, but those closest to him are desperate to convince him to make smth cool bc they know he's capable of it. He just doesn't wanna put his whole crowussy into a build for the Feds

He tries to think of terraforming as a painting. Blend the colors, highlights, pops of other colors for accents, make sure to keep things random and natural looking, just follow what your heart is saying. And as always, step back from the canvas to see your work at a distance.

His favorite thing to do is greenery and stone. It just comes to him the most naturally, no pun intended. Rose is of course very thrilled by this.

The boosh boosh is vocal stimming. Makes the process of collecting or placing down resources less monotonous. And the crows like it so *shrug* He boosh. At this point he doesn't even realize when he's doing it half the time.

Nothing annoys him more than building at night. Fuck off mobs he's trying to make a masterpiece here >:/

He's much easier to jumpscare while he's focused on building btw, esp terraforming (Fit & Etoiles take advantage of this often)

He prefers teaching the kids and giving them tips so they can enjoy building themselves. He does get that itch to build though, it's why he helps out with a lot of it.

Btw he can't figure out why he has that innate itch to build ;) (wiped memory go brrrr)

He's joked that if he ever actually builds smth on the island it'll be a massive dirt middle finger aimed at the nearest Fed building.

Sometimes the murder helps him with stuff :D They bring him stacks of blocks, snacks to make him take a break (it only works if they offer avocado toast), fresh tools if he doesn't have Mending, etc. They like being handy little guys trying to get a good grade in crow

When he's super invested in building, he'll pop in headphones and then Nothing can stop him. He jam, he boosh, he make big cool thing.

He used to hate interiors but building stuff for and with the kids has kinda changed that. He still thinks he's mostly shit at it but he's not bad.

He wants to learn how to build like Chayanne so badly. Chayanne can make these amazing cozy little spots that Phil for the life of him can't create quite the same way. He can terraform like a motherfucker but there's something about the way Chayanne can make such a cute place that Phil just can't get the hang of. (He is very proud of his boy)

And Lullah. God, he loves her visions. The way she too is incredibly talented with greenery and flowers. She can make the most breathtaking gardens. He loves helping her bring her ideas to life, and using his macro-scale build skills to make them larger than life.

[saulocept]

but your love is such a swamp (you’re the only thing i want)

pairing: sebastian sallow/reader

rating: t

summary: You’re toeing the line, giving into this, following your heart, doing whatever you want. Maybe it’s too late, maybe it doesn’t matter anymore. Or maybe some things are better left untouched. You’ll know soon, won’t you?

notes: crossposted from my ao3 account (which i only remembered to do now lol). reader is implied to be hufflepuff, but no explicit descriptions so you’re free to imagine them in another house if you wish. 

full tags include: unresolved romantic tension, awkward kissing, awkward makeouts.

as always i took a lot of liberties writing this so if u see any inconsistencies or anything else, thats me exercising that lol

It’s a rare thing to have a whole evening to yourself. Between finishing school works and exams week, there’s never enough time for you to relax, or to spend time with friends and have fun. And now that it’s all over, you’d accepted at the first invitation to celebrate, eager to get away and do something different for once.

But things don’t always go your way. You’ve known it before; it’s the oldest lesson in your book, the only thing that the world keeps trying to remind you over and over, relentless, without mercy. And now you’re stuck here in this place, sitting around and doing nothing, waiting for the snowstorm outside to pass.

Briefly, you wonder if it’s just your bad luck, your innate misfortune. If you hadn’t been so eager to leave, would all this have happened still? You don’t know, not really; you’ve got a feeling that the answer would somehow be a resolute no, but you’re trying not to think about it.

Besides, being stuck indoors isn’t that bad, anyway. It doesn’t feel like you’re stranded; if anything, it feels nice – the opposite of whatever you’d initially expected. Cozy, comfortable. Surrounded by the warmth of the fire, the laughter of the other students. How it echoes down the hallways, loud and cheerful, bright. It makes you feel less alone, less annoyed to be stuck in this place.

It's easy enough for the few first hours. You’ve mostly just wandered around the halls, sipping your hot chocolate and listening to the other students gossip, trying your best to keep a straight face each time one of them says something funny. When you’ve had enough of it, you promptly sneaked back into your room, thinking you might catch up on some sleep instead.

It doesn’t work. Within minutes, you’re back to where you started, wandering around the hallways again, looking for something to do. The answer comes easy to you this time, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes, because how couldn’t you have thought of this earlier?

Is it still sneaking around if you’re doing this in plain sight? You don’t think anyone cares at all; it’s not like you’re friends with him in secret. You’re certain everyone’s seen you together at one point: hanging around after classes, spending time in between breaks. Plus, it’s not like you’ve got something to hide.

Still, you have to admit that it’s a little daunting to be in this dorm. Though nobody’s tried to stop you from going in, it doesn’t stop them from giving you odd looks and questioning stares, like they could tell you don’t belong here. Granted, you already know that you don’t; the colors in your robes already highlights the difference between you, but it’s not like they still need to rub it in. Besides, it’s not like you’re here for them. You’re here for one thing only – well, for one person, even if it’s taking you a while to find him.

It isn’t easy. Most of the time, he’s the one trying to sneak you in, navigating you both around in the dark, and without his guidance, you’re practically at a loss. But still, you manage, and in the end, you finally locate his room, squaring your shoulders as you muster the courage to knock on his door. Five gentle raps – a secret code, something he’s taught you before to let you know that it’s him behind your door.

You hear the sound of the knob twisting and you shift your weight from one foot to another as you wait. The door opens just a crack, and you see his familiar face peering at you from inside the room, suspicious. Realizing it’s just you all along, he lets you in without much of a fuss, opening the door wider and gesturing for you to come in. Briefly, you wonder what it is he’s got to be suspicious about. He’s the one that taught you the code, didn’t he? Somehow, the thought of someone else knowing about it hurts more than you could admit.

Still, there’s no time to dwell on it. You step inside, close the door behind you, watching as he retreats into his desk, grabbing his quill and scribbling something on a parchment. He seems busy enough for conversations, though it’s not as if you mind. You’ve always wanted an excuse to poke around in his room, and now’s as good a time as any.

You sit on the edge of his bed, eyeing the books he’s got on display. There’s not a lot of them, certainly not more than an average Ravenclaw’s, but it’s still more than you can count on both hands. Textbooks, mostly – borrowed from the library with no intention to return, as well as a few novels – authors you barely recognize. Huh.

There’s something in the corner that catches your eye, so you stand up, reaching for it with one hand. He doesn’t stop you, though from the corners of your eyes, you see him staring at you, one eyebrow raised curiously. You meet his gaze head-on, and he tilts his head to the side, more curious than ever. “What are you doing here?”

“Poking around,” you reply easily, leaning against the wall and flipping through the pages of the book. It’s a title you easily recognize – a childhood favorite you’ve carried with you until now, something you’d once told him about in an effort to connect. “I didn’t know you have this.” You wave the book around in your hand, as if to emphasize.

He shrugs. “You’re the one who told me about it.”

“I know.” You grin. “Guess I’m rubbing off on you, huh?”

He frowns, though his eyes are bright, twinkling with mischief. “More than I’d like to admit, unfortunately.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Rude.”

He snorts, and you don’t miss the tiny smile that plays about the corners of his lips. he doesn’t say anything after that, opting instead to go back to his writing, and all is quiet again.

-

It takes him a while to get done. By the time he’s stood up from his chair, you’re about halfway through the book, the familiar twists and turns greeting you like an old friend. He sits down beside you, and the bed shifts under his weight, the motion startling you out of your reverie.

“Hi,” he greets, just as you turn to look at him. He flashes you a tiny smile, though it quickly turns into a frown once he gets a closer look at you. “You look different.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Do you say that to everyone you meet or is it just to me?”

“No!” he exclaims, just a little too quickly. There’s a flush on his cheeks now, and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to laugh. It takes him a moment to recover, clearing his throat and trying again, watching you from beneath his lashes. “But you do look different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” he says, pausing as he thinks. It takes him another moment, but then he shakes his head, shrugging. “You’re sure you didn’t get cursed on your way here?”

“I was?” you ask, blinking, because now this conversation’s making you all confused. “How can you tell?”

“I can’t,” he replies, giving you another narrow-eyed stare. Slowly, he leans in, looks at you closely as if doing so will grant him the answer he seeks. You doubt it would, but you humor him, anyway, sitting up straighter and letting him into your space, trying to ignore the intensity of his gaze, how the warmth of his breath tickles your cheek, your skin. “I’m not sure.”

“Are you sure I’m the one who’s cursed?” you ask weakly, trying to bring some levity back into the room. You’ve never really been this close to him before, not until now, and now that you have, you can’t help but feel nervous. You’ve always thought he’s pretty before, a thing obvious even from a distance, but even that knowledge alone isn’t doing him much justice. Your heart’s pounding in your chest now, and quietly, you wonder if he could hear it, too. “For all we know, you’re the one who’s cursed here.”

He snorts, though he doesn’t look a tad bit amused. “Very funny.”

Silence again. He frowns, watches you closely, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He raises a hand, as though he wants to reach out and touch you, but then he pulls back at the last second, as if he’s thought better of it, and you swallow the lump that forms in your throat, trying your best not to look too disappointed.

You lick your lips, clear your throat. Your voice is quiet when you speak, almost breathless. It’s hard to affect some tone of normalcy when he’s this close to you, nearly touching you but not quite. “Have you managed to figure it out?”

“No.” He sounds frustrated now, grumbling, and you’d laugh at him if you aren’t too busy trying to distract yourself from his proximity. “And I can’t sense any curses on you either.”

You hum under your breath, thinking. There has to be an answer in here somewhere, and you close your eyes, rack your brain for some clues, anything to solve this riddle. The answer comes to you then, quick as lightning. Little flashes of memories, both here and there, vague and a little blurry. Still, there’s no doubt about it; it’s the answer to his question.

“Oh! I get it now,” you say, opening your eyes to look at him. You must sound so certain because even he looks intrigued, raising an eyebrow as he waits for the big reveal. You give him a victorious grin in response, pointing a finger at your lips because there’s no way it could be anything else. “Lipstick.”

“What?”

“Well, you know,” you gesture vaguely around you, trying to come up with an easy enough explanation, something he'd be quick to understand. Seriously? “Things that people wear to look pretty?”

He’s staring at you like you’ve grown another head. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does if you’re not from around here,” you grumble, frowning.

He still looks confused, though he’s staring at you now with a newfound interest. Great. Now you feel like a clown at a circus, or something equally silly. “How does it taste?”

You give him a pained smile, trying not to laugh. “Sebastian, it’s not something you can just taste.”

“Isn’t it?” He meets your eyes then, and there’s a glint in them you’re sure you haven’t seen before. Your breath stops, catches in your throat. You’re not entirely sure what he means by that, and you’re not sure if you even have the heart to ask.

“Well, I can put it on you if you like…” you begin, then stop, realizing he’s begun to lean in again, closer to you than ever. You swallow nervously, completely aware of how quickly your heart is beating, but you can’t move away from him. You want to, you think absently, but something about him draws you in, makes you want to be even closer. Like a moth to a flame. Wanting – no, needing.

Is it even the right thing to do, when you could jeopardize everything that’s nice and good between you? You don’t think so, and yet you want it anyway.

Still. You lick your lips, open your mouth, trying to come up with something – a convenient lie, a believable excuse; you’re not even sure anymore. All you know is that you’ve at least got to say something, a last-ditch attempt at salvaging whatever you have, keeping it intact. “But I left it in my room. I’ll have to um, go back…”

He’s not saying anything. He’s staring at you still, and his eyes are bright, twinkling. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, and it makes you more nervous than ever, because you’re not sure what he wants, what he’s planning. Is this a joke, some kind of prank? Is he even serious? “Do you?”

“Not… really,” you admit, hesitating for a second before finally giving in. “Not right now.”

“Okay.” He nods at you, leaves it at that. His gaze darts to your lips, lingering for a few more seconds before he looks up to meet your eyes once more. “Good.” Here, he stops, pauses, hesitating as he moves closer, like he wants to but he isn’t sure if he should. “Um, can I…?”

“Okay,” you breathe, because it feels like the right thing to say, the proper thing to do. And really, because it’s the only thing left for you, and you can’t find it in you to deny yourself what you want. There’s no turning back now, you know, and maybe it’s that knowledge settling in that drives you to desperation, to eagerness, because somehow, you want to make the most of it. The first kiss, and then the last. “Okay.”

He doesn’t say anything else after that, just leans in to kiss you. The kiss is chaste, awkward, neither of you certain what you should do. He pulls away – a brief respite, reaching out to cup your cheek, thumb tracing circles against your skin as he pulls you closer, trying once more.

This time, the kiss starts slow, gentle, sweet enough that it’s easy to melt into. You try to kiss him back, but you’re not even sure if you’re doing the right thing. You’ve kissed people before – students your age, but it’s never like this. Most of the time, it’s a chaste affair, easily forgettable: a shy peck on the cheek, the corners of the mouth, but nothing this serious, this deliberate.

You think you could feel him smiling against you: an unmistakable grin that makes your heart flutter. He runs his tongue along your bottom lip, slow and hesitant, like he’s testing the waters for the first time. For a second, you’re frozen in your spot, uncertain how to react, what to do. Vaguely, you’re made aware of his hand on your cheek, the feel of his thumb, running along your skin, tracing circles, urging you to relax, and slowly you begin to ease into it, into him, giving in and parting your lips open.

You’re practically buzzing with anticipation by the time he slips his tongue inside, lets it brush against yours – a gentle caress you’re not sure how to respond to. Somehow, this one’s even more awkward than before. This time, there’s no rhythm to follow, nothing but instincts to guide you.

Your movements are stiff, stilted, and it’s getting obvious by the minute that neither of you know what you’re doing. You’d laugh, you think, if everything doesn’t feel like a fever dream. Even now, you still can’t believe that any of this is happening. If you close your eyes and let loose too much, what’ll you find next? A broken friendship, ruined and unsalvageable?

You don’t like the thought of it, and so, just to keep yourself from floating away too far, you reach out, tangle your fingers in his hair. A movement borne of desperation because it feels real enough – he feels real enough. Like an anchor, you think, grounding you to whatever reality you’re supposed to be in. And if that reality includes him kissing you, or you kissing him, then you’ll take it.

Then there comes a knock in the door, and the world you know is shattered. Three quick raps, loud and impatient, as if the person on the other side is in a hurry. Quickly, the two of you spring apart, moving as far away as possible from each other, embarrassed at being caught, perhaps even a little guilty. You can’t tell anymore. It’s weird how the distance between you seems multiplied all of a sudden, like he’s light years away instead of meters, a stranger instead of someone you’ve grown close to over the years.

You keep your eyes ahead of you, though you try to watch him from the corners of your eyes, trying to gauge his reaction, what he thinks of the whole thing. Does he think it’s all a mistake – a thing manifested in the heat of the moment, or did he really mean to do it?  

You watch him quietly, frowning. You can’t read him, can’t see through him. He’s mirroring your pose, both hands folded in his lap, gaze trained on the wall in front of him, deliberately trying not to glance your way, and it frustrates you a little because it shouldn’t be this complicated, this confusing.

You open your mouth, feeling the need to say something, though you’re not quite sure what. Should you ask him about it, come clean and confess? Or should you keep things normal, pretend you haven’t done things friends wouldn’t do? You’re not sure anymore; you don’t think you’ve ever been sure of anything since the moment you realized you like him.

You clear your throat, try again, thinking you’d fare much better if you start lightly, beginning with his name. It doesn’t work; your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, and the silence between you only grows sharper, heavier. The clock ticks; every passing minute only adds to the torture, the tension, and yet you can’t do anything but sit here, still and quiet, uncertain where to start, how to begin.

The knock comes again, louder this time, almost careless. Four times, each one more deafening than the last. It takes him a moment to recover, and from the tails of your eyes, you watch him fix his hair, straighten his robe, making sure that nothing’s out of place. You think you see him glancing your way, but then he’s turning away before your eyes could meet, and you can’t tell whether the expression you’d caught in his face a few seconds prior is guilt or regret.

He’s still not looking at you as he walks over to the door, opens it a little. There’s a flurry of voices in the background, though only one of them is familiar. The conversation’s hushed, quiet – a thing not meant for your ears. No matter, you think; you’re not interested enough to eavesdrop, especially when there’s something else that occupies your mind.

It’s over as soon as it started, and a second later, the door’s closing again, the silence enveloping the two of you once more. You take this moment to stand up, straightening your robe, and then slowly making your way over to the door. You catch the confusion flashing in his eyes, though you quickly look away before his eyes could find yours. You don’t want him to see you right now. You’re not even sure you want to look at him either.

“I’m… sorry,” you say, because it’s the first thing you can think to say. Easier to lie and make up an excuse than admit that everything between you is ruined. That you’re the only one who seems thoroughly affected by this. You’re not meeting his eyes, keeping your eyes to the floor as you continue, afraid to see what his reaction is. What do you even want to see on his face, anyway? Do you even want to know? “I’ve um, well. I’ve still got some homework to finish, so I’ll uh, catch you later?”

You know he knows you well enough to know when you’re lying. It’s too obvious, anyway; there’s no homework to finish, no advanced readings to do. For once, your break’s solely your own, and yet it’s the first lie you can think of, the first thing that spills out of your lips. Not plausible enough, you know, but you don’t need plausible – you just need an excuse.

You don’t even hesitate. Quickly, you open the door, slipping out of his room before he could even formulate a response.

“Wait,” he says, long after you’re gone, walking down the halls with your arms glued to your sides, ignoring the odd stares cast your way. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look back, and the only thing that follows you is the sound of his voice, almost desperate in its echo.

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Game Night: Cassette Beasts

Pokémon fans threatening to find a new monster taming series is like Americans threatening to move to Canada: we’ve all said it at some point, and for completely valid reasons, but the reality is that it just isn’t that easy to pick up and go.  For me at least, it’s hard to pin down exactly what it is about Pokémon that’s central to my interest in it, so I’m not quite sure what to look for in other monster tamers.  At the very least, when something like Palworld rolls around I can easily tell that it’s not that.  The last several Pokémon games have been some of my favorites, but I’ve remained curious about the genre at large; unfortunately these games are innately a rather large commitment, which doesn’t pair well with my indecisive uncertainty.  All this to say, while I was definitely intrigued by Cassette Beasts when I first heard about it years ago, that intrigue never actually went anywhere…until now.

I believe I recently heard someone toss it out as a recommendation on a stream I was watching, which is why it stuck out when I was browsing the Games Done Quick channel on YouTube.  Out of curiosity, I wound up watching the speedrun.  I then poked around the official wiki a bit and came to realize this game could be very appealing to me specifically.  And BOY was I right about that!

Before we get into it, spoiler-free tl;dr: Cassette Beasts both wears its inspiration proudly on its sleeve and iterates upon it in many truly fascinating ways, with an atmosphere that switches effortlessly between delightfully cozy and creepy cool.  I have some gripes, but I have been thoroughly entertained and downright mesmerized playing this game.  If you have any interest in monster tamers, pixel art indie RPGs, and/or cosmic horror, I highly recommend checking Cassette Beasts out.

>PLAY

The game first asks you to customize your character, sans outfit—that comes later so you’re not entirely overwhelmed right away.  There’s also an option for pronouns, including he/him, she/her, and they/them, which is lovely to see.  You are then dropped onto the shore of a mysterious island, and are found by a girl who tells you that you’ve landed in a different dimension.  So, yes, technically an isekai.  But this is a limbo-esque world that only has humans because they keep falling into it from time to time—every single character is either from another world, or was born to parents who are stuck here.  That, combined with making your character’s explicit goal “find a way home”, excellently avoids the most common pitfalls of the genre and lets you assess it without preconceived notions.  What’s really interesting about this is that people are pulled from many different worlds, and from various points in the timeline: you have characters talking about the Mars landing of 1969 and the 20th century peace treaty with the elves, and also famous Greek philosophers and Karl Marx.  I love how eclectic it is, and it’s frequently used in really funny ways. (You all remember Diogenes, right?  Guess what traits are shared by all the monsters he uses.) The people brought here have all banded together in a mutually supportive community, with everyone contributing what they can and materials like wood and metal being traded for goods as opposed to using money.  Why do we want to go home again?  This sounds like a nice place to live!

But anyway, we’re here for the monsters.  And in-game they are just called “monsters”, never “Cassette Beasts”.  Which strikes me as odd.  But the monsters have been in this world way longer than the cassette tapes, which are actually a relatively recent arrival courtesy of an isekai’d shopping mall.  Rather than catching a monster, you record them on a blank tape, meaning that even if you are successful you’ll still need to defeat the monster or flee to end the battle.  You then use your tape and cassette player to take on the form and powers of the recorded monster, and fight your battles first-hand!  Pokémon briefly flirted with this idea in a spin-off manga (Pokémon ReBURST), but here it’s fully embraced; this sort of approach can be seen in other aspects too, as we’ll see later.  After learning the basics, you’re given a few major questlines and then set free into the open world of New Wirral, tackling whatever catches your attention as you romp around.  There is some level-scaling, though I’m not sure of the specifics.  Regardless, both it and enemy AI can be adjusted via Settings, and you can also turn off the glitch effects that show up if those are impacting your experience.  In battle you control both your avatar and one of several recruitable partners, and can carry up to six tapes at a time—essentially Doubles format, with all the complexity and chaos that entails.  One very interesting wrinkle in the formula is that in addition to the tapes/monsters having health bars, the humans also have their own health bar, hidden under that of their tape as if the tape’s HP was a shield meter.  If attacks overkill your tape, the excess damage is dealt to your own HP, and if you lose all of your HP then you’re done regardless of how many tapes you have left.  It’s an important extra resource to keep in mind, and the same is true for (most) NPC cassette-users: if you deal enough damage to their own health bar you can defeat them without having to get through all of their tapes.  Until the late/post-game, that is, where your human foes are invulnerable beneath their tapes while you very much are not, and that feels very unfair.  I also find it strange that there’s no item for restoring your human HP—campfires to rest at are fairly plentiful, but it’s still somewhat odd.

Each monster has one type, and rather than limited uses for each of its moves, both characters generate AP every turn they can then spend on certain attacks.  Moves also each have a type, but while there is a same type attack bonus (STAB), it’s not as significant as it is in Pokémon.  Naturally, each type has advantages and disadvantages over other types, but!  Weakness and resistance is also toned way down, and is not your primary goal when using type advantage. Type interaction is far, far more nuanced in this game, involving the entire spectrum of ailments and buffs and debuffs, and even changing the target’s type.  For example: Water extinguishes Fire, temporarily reducing its attack power.  Using Fire on Water creates steam, which heals Water over the next few turns.  Fire also melts Ice, changing it to a Water type for a few turns.  And this is all just barely scratching the surface!  A chart showing these interactions is given to you in-game, which is nice; more than that, whenever you discover a new interaction for the first time, a tutorial box pops up and elaborates on the effects, as well as providing an explanation of why (extinguish, steam, melt, etc) that goes a long way in keeping track of them all.  While a fantastic feature, it can get repetitive at times: the mystical Astral type has identical interactions with all four classical elements, and despite all 4 being mentioned the first time, you’ll still get that same text box explaining that interaction 4 times.  Types range from the usual suspects (Fire, Water, Air) to some very…surprising choices (Glass, Plastic, Glitter), plus Typeless moves that take on the type of the monster using them.  Moves are treated as stickers applied to your tapes, and can be peeled and moved at your discretion; you obtain them either from leveling up a tape, or from shops and chests and drops.  Leveling up monsters (from 0 to 5 stars) also increases their max AP and how many move slots they have, and I think slightly increases their stats?  Your human characters, though, have their own stats which increase as you level them up from 1 to…well I’m not sure exactly but it exceeds 100 at least.  I couldn’t tell you the exact mathematical way the two sets of stats interact, but it’s a neat idea, strengthening yourself as well as the tapes you collect.  Your partners gain experience even if they’re not with you, and thank God they do, otherwise it’d be a pain to spend proper time with each and every one of them.

There’s one other major battle mechanic unlocked at the end of the tutorial segment: Fusion.  After filling up a meter, your avatar and partner can fuse their monster forms together to unleash hell upon your enemies.  Monster sprites were made modular so that the game could automatically generate fusions on its own, meaning that there are in fact over 16000 different fusions you can make, and your bestiary will keep a list of them all. (Thank God there are absolutely no incentives for filling that list!) Fusing will also cause whatever music track is playing to gain vocals, which is a fun way to up the presentation factor.  Your relationship with your partner is key to Fusion: its measured from 0 to 5 hearts, and you need at least 1 to be able to perform Fusion at all.  At 2 hearts, you gain a super move.  Every level gained increases the stats of your fusion as well.  It’s a fun mechanic to mess around with, even if a lot of the fusions can look a bit derpy—small price for the sheer flexibility of the system.  I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that Pokémon fans have been enamored with fusion since at least B2W2; I doubt it’s coincidence that Cassette Beasts chose to implement it as a Mega Evolution-esque gimmick.  Once you get to the late/post-game, the NPC fights also gain access to Fusion, giving you a chance to figure out ways to play around the feature from the other side.

Like I said before, this game greatly expands upon a number of fan-favorite concepts from Pokémon, and I’m pleased to say that extends all the way to Shinies.  Every monster has a small chance to be a “bootleg”, with not only a different color scheme, but a different type.  There are a total of 14 types in the game.  Do you see where this is going?  Every single monster has 14 variants with different types and color palettes (even their original type, weirdly enough?).  And every single one has a page in their bestiary dedicated solely to tracking how many of these variants you’ve found.  Probably nightmarish for a completionist, but holy shit is that insanely cool!  Multiple palettes to choose from instead of being stuck with just one that might suck!  And they have mechanical differences to incentivize recording them beyond simply collector’s value!  Fantastic!  There are also various ways to increase your odds, all the way up to 20% in specific cases, which I imagine will entice quite a few players into the hobby of bootleg hunting.

Let’s see, what other mechanical topics can I cover before moving onto more story-related stuff?  Field moves are a thing—you obtain them by recording a specific monster, and in the case of some like the glide you’ll partially transform when it’s activated.  I think it strikes a nice balance: it’s dependent on what you yourself have actually recorded, but doesn’t ask you to dedicate move or party slots to it.  Their approach to evolution feels simplified: when you rest after getting a tape to 5 stars, you’ll be prompted to “remaster” it if applicable, rather than having to guess which level you should be aiming for.  There are a few wrinkles when it comes to branching evolutions, but only a few, and mostly come down to either having a certain move on the monster to change its remaster, or, after choosing to remaster, being given two options right there.  Those options can be a bit vague, though; I looked into it ahead of time, and if I had gone with the option my gut opted for when remastering my starter, I would have gotten the less cool-looking monster.  I also want to mention the loading screens; you know how The Sims lists random stuff on its loading screens?  They do something similar here, except they’re all related to one of the monsters: “Directing Traffikrab”, “Tuning Kittelly”, “Sharpening Ripterra’s knifeclaws”.  It’s a little thing but I find it charming, and perhaps a bit devious in making players curious to track down these various monsters being teased.  Oh, and selecting the Flee option will tell you your percent chance to flee, and even if you fail you can still choose to blackout if you really just want to get out of there.  There’s also a Mystery Gift analogue that’s been used to distribute various bootlegs, and things I haven’t even tried like the “Gym Pass” to customize your player character's stats.  Beating the game also unlocks customization options for future playthroughs like randomizers and permadeath.  There’s a LOT.  It’s a very packed game.

Right then, story.  There are two BIG big questlines, one of which being a setup similar to collecting Gym Badges: there are 12 special NPCs all over the map who give you a stamp when you defeat them, but rather than specializing in a certain type, they tend to have a favorite tactic they employ in battle.  One of the easiest to find specializes in moves that create defensive walls; one particularly annoying one prioritizes controlling accuracy and evasion; there’s even one who specializes in just one particular monster with an elaborate signature move.  It’s perhaps not an enormous difference, but again, it’s nuanced.  There is also a “Champion” fight at the end, but I won’t get into that.  More importantly, the questline that the game is largely centered around and leads to the end credits, is the hunt for hidden subway stations that house powerful, eldritch boss monsters known as Archangels.  Apparently, when humans first wound up in New Wirral, they didn’t know what to make of the monsters and tended to refer to them as angels or demons.  That fell out of fashion as the community came to understand monsters better.  The Archangels, however, cannot be understood by human minds.  Each one is drawn/animated in its own style that clashes with the world around them—your partners all say that it hurts just to look at them, and just being in the stations makes them feel uneasy.  A personal favorite is the claymation skeleton with a vertical mouth, to give you some idea of what to expect.  These fights have their own unique mechanics, and the Archangels tend to hit very, very hard; if you do survive, some floating guy in a red coat with a 3D rendered reflective triangle for a head shows up and absorbs the boss (concerning), and you’re given part of a riddle that will eventually lead you to the final dungeon.  The vibes are incredibly at odds with the typical overworld gameplay, and I mean that in THE best possible way.  The Archangels were a real highlight for me.

In addition to those, every partner you can recruit has their own questline, which can range from a single fight all the way to finding 6 hidden locations around the map with their own substantial battles to win.  The girl who finds you at the start of the game, Kayleigh, is your first partner, first having a quest that’s essentially “finish the tutorial” before switching to a more personal quest that involves dealing with an actual cult.  You’re also very early on pushed in the direction of Eugene, who has that long, long quest finding hidden locations all over the map.  Slow-going as it is, though, it’s about fighting off a horde of capitalist vampires who are trying to establish a housing market, so.  That’s fucking hilarious.  But it has stiff competition in Felix’s quest, where you follow his middle school OC brought to life as she journeys to four sacred altars to slay their guardians.  That’s right, Felix’s edgy anime OC, an angel demon catgirl ninja named Kuneko, is also up and about in New Wirral and he is mortified by this discovery.  Excellent questline, no notes.  Another partner you’ll run into fairly early is Meredith; her quest involves navigating a dungeon you probably won’t get to for a good while, though it’s a solid dungeon when you do get to it.  There’s also Viola, the character from Twelfth Night by William fucking Shakespeare, whose search for her brother takes her into a haunted shipwreck to face a villain from a different Shakespeare story.  New Wirral is very eclectic.  But perhaps least expected of all is Barkley the dog.  One of your playable partners is a dog.  His quest is the shortest and an utterly fucking brutal punch to the emotional gut.  Anyway I like all these folks, they’ve got personality and endearing character development that touches on some personally relevant topics.  Aside from Barkley, you can romance any partner after maxing out your relationship level, and that was a tough choice to make.  The Gym Leader analogues are sufficiently quirky for their role, and you meet a handful of other perfectly fine recurring characters—including a few who are only encountered in post-game quests.  If I’m really being strict here, I don’t think I’d say any of this game’s characters have jumped the ranks to new blorbo status, but take that as you will.

The post-game has an interesting structure to it.  You don’t unlock any new areas, not really, but after engaging with the newly-unlocked sidequest board for a bit, you gain access to a few longer questlines.  There are two that eventually come together which each feature their own new characters, one following the direct consequences of actions you took earlier in the story, and one that’s about someone new being dropped onto New Wirral, showing that the world keeps turning even if your particular story is over.  There’s also another questline which delves even deeper into the background lore of the game, and that’s something I’ll never get enough of.  The repeating sidequests are brief and rewarding enough to from a satisfying gameplay loop to disguise the grind, and I’m only just now considering an extended break after nearly 70 hours total gameplay (which I would guess is around half post-game).

Oh, I should also talk more about the bestiary and completing it!  Each monster has the standard flavor text and habitat listing, plus that page that tracks bootlegs, and a list of how many you’ve encountered/defeated.  However, when you raise a tape to 5 star level, you also unlock an additional page of flavor text, usually something related to the inspiration for the monster’s design.  While heavily scaled back, having this sort of progression in the bestiary reminds me of doing research in Pokémon Legends Arceus, and I very much appreciate that.  Going that far is optional, of course—really, doing anything involving the bestiary is optional.  But the game does nudge you in that direction and reward you several times along the way.  When you first encounter the “professor” character, he gives you a series of quests that just ask you to record one of the monsters found in the central region of the map.  Easy!  From there, he gives you a handful of resources and tapes every time you hit a new milestone of 10 monsters recorded.  In the post-game you can also randomly get quests asking you to get a certain monster to 5 star, or perform a specific fusion, or use a specific monster to fight the professor’s assistant, all slowly, slowly nudging you in the direction of completion.  But what’s really interesting is that you don’t necessarily have to fully complete the bestiary to get the grand prize (this game’s equivalent to the Master Ball).  Cassette Beasts originally had 120 monsters.  A later update raised that to 128, and some time after that, they released a DLC that added a handful of unnumbered monsters.  You get the Master Tape by recording 128 monster species.  So, if you record a bunch of the DLC monsters, you can “complete” the bestiary without tracking down every last monster in the base game.  If you do go beyond that, the completion percentage will actually go over 100%, which is so weird to see, but in a cool way.  It seems the intention was specifically to not make completion increasingly difficult as new updates are added, which is honestly pretty rad!  And, again, though I appreciate the bestiary remembering all of your fusions, I’m so glad there’s nothing incentivizing you to from every last one of them.  Same goes for bootlegs.  So, does this mean future updates/DLC with even more monsters are on the way?  No clue.  But they are working on a multiplayer update expected to release soon! (I don’t have Switch Online so I won’t be able to do much with that lol.)

I did purchase the DLC right away; I was confident I would enjoy the game enough I would want it eventually, and buying them both together was slightly cheaper than buying them separately. (The bundle also comes with a cosmetics pack but it’s nothing that interests me personally.) After progressing through the main quest enough that you become able to access the final dungeon, a small boat washes ashore, and you’re able to ride it to a dock in the middle of the ocean housing some sort of carnival.  The ringmistress asks you to explore the three major attractions and beat their power sources, the “Infernal Engines”, into submission.  Despite being a small area it’s still just as open-ended as New Wirral, an effort I appreciate.  You can tackle the attractions in any order you want, even leave in the middle of one to go do another if you prefer.  The place is also populated by several new monsters to record, including one of my personal favorites, a ghostly book monster named Hauntome.  It’s a few mini-dungeons, some solid bosses capping them off, and then one last boss, with a loose story in the background that has some connections to the main story but isn’t anything essential.  I don’t know if I’d go as far as to call it a must-buy, but it is fun, and inexpensive, and more Cassette Beasts.  Up to you.

There are two major themes I picked up on during my playthrough: community and art.  The people who’ve ended up in New Wirral, in spite of coming from countless different dimensions, have all banded together to support each other and however many newcomers show up; they don’t even ask for anything in return, they just value life and want to be sure people are cared for.  The theme that plays in Harbourtown is transparent about this: “we’re all in the same ship […] but at least we’re together […] I don’t know you but we’ll make the most of / wherever we are now”.  Fusion is about literally joining with someone to create something stronger than either of you could do on your own.  There are even some genuinely scary twisted manifestations of this idea, like the Mournington cult and the truth behind the Landkeepers—people crave community, and there are some who will use that to their own advantage.  It’s baked into the motivations of all your partners, and, switching gears, most of them are heavily connected to art too!  Felix is an artist learning he doesn’t need to be ashamed of his past, less “polished” work.  Kayleigh, after addressing her regrets with Mournington, reconnects with her old hobby of playing guitar.  Meredith actually takes things in a different direction: she used to spend all of her time consuming vast quantities of art to the point that it cut her off from her community, showing that you still need to exercise moderation when it comes to art.  Viola is a character from another, pre-existing work of art!  The Archangels play into this as well: one of the biggest things setting them apart is the way they clash with the rest of the game’s art style, and their nature as incarnations of humankind’s ideas is a delightfully malevolent spin on the whole thing.

Taking these two themes together, Cassette Beasts presents a thesis on our responsibility to our fellow people and how we can all find our own way to fulfill it, with a particular focus on art and how it broadly conveys our ideas and inspires change.  The final boss fight punctuates this beautifully when, after Aleph destroys your cassette player, Morgante awakens and tells you that you don’t truly need the cassettes.  “THE ABILITY TO MANIFEST YOUR WILL TO ALTER REALITY…TO CHANGE YOUR WORLD, AND YOURSELVES...THAT LIES WITHIN YOU.”  Then she and ALL of your partners fuse with your avatar, and through your combined might, you strike down the malevolent forces in your way, secure a path home, and bring a huge, fundamental change to New Wirral as its inhabitants now have the option to decide if they should stay or go.  It’s an extremely satisfying ending, even if it does see you and your partners going their separate ways.  But, who knows?  Given a few tidbits from the post-game, it sounds like we just might get to meet them again someday.

Again, I had a really, really great time with Cassette Beasts and highly recommend it.  It’s charming, its fun, and it’s only $20!  Maybe don’t get it on Switch, though, not if you can’t stand frequent load times.

And, just to brag about my bootlegs a little:

-The random free bootleg from Harbourtown was a Glass-type Dandylion for me

-The freebie Ritual Candle netted me a Water-type Glaistain!

-The post-game bootleg starter, I got a Poison-type Candevil

-Was able to use the mailbox to get a Fire-type Undyin

-And obviously there’s Barkley’s Ice-type Pombomb

-The first one I encountered purely by chance was an Astral-type Jellyton

-Air-type Jellyton

-Ice-type Carniviper

-Astral-type Carniviper

-Fire-type Traffikrab

-Plant-type Squirey

-Ice-type Boltam

-Lightning-type Snoopin

-Poison-type Kirikuri

-Glass-type Scubalrus

-Glass-type Spooki-onna

-Lightning-type Dominoth

-A Fire-type Piksie

-A Glitter-type Picksie

[rachellaurengray]

The Irresistible Charm of Libra: 20 Things They Adore

If you’ve ever met a Libra, you know they have an irresistible allure that draws people in like moths to a flame. With their natural grace and captivating charisma, Libras are the social butterflies of the zodiac, effortlessly balancing charm and intellect. Governed by Venus, the planet of love and beauty, they possess an innate appreciation for aesthetics and harmony in all aspects of life. So, what exactly makes these air signs tick? Here are 20 specific things that ignite the passion of every Libra, reflecting their unique personality and vibrant spirit.

Art: From breathtaking paintings to captivating sculptures, Libras are mesmerized by creative expression. They often find inspiration in art that speaks to the soul.

Harmony: Peace and balance are their lifeblood. Libras strive to create environments free from conflict, often acting as the glue that holds relationships together.

Socializing: If you’re looking for a social butterfly, look no further. Libras thrive in the company of others, effortlessly drawing people into their orbit.

Romance: For them, love is an art form. Libras adore grand gestures, heartfelt conversations, and the thrill of romance, making every moment feel special.

Fashion: With a keen eye for style, they express themselves through their wardrobe. A Libra’s closet is often a curated collection of stunning pieces that reflect their taste.

Intellectual Conversations: They crave deep, engaging discussions that stimulate the mind. Whether it’s philosophy, politics, or art, Libras love to explore different viewpoints.

Nature: There’s something about the great outdoors that calls to them. Nature rejuvenates their spirit, whether it’s a serene forest walk or a beachside sunset.

Aesthetics: Beauty is everywhere, and Libras have an eye for it. They enjoy crafting beautiful spaces and curating experiences that delight the senses.

Music: A soundtrack to their lives, music holds a special place in a Libra's heart. From jazz to classical, they find joy in melodies that resonate with their emotions.

Travel: Adventure beckons! Libras love to explore new cultures, savor different cuisines, and create memories in far-off places.

Justice: Fairness is a core value. Libras stand up for equality and justice, often championing causes that align with their beliefs.

Diplomacy: Skilled negotiators, they have a knack for resolving conflicts and bringing people together. Their calm demeanor makes them trusted peacemakers.

Culinary Experiences: Food is another form of art for Libras. They enjoy both cooking and dining out, relishing the flavors and experiences that come with culinary exploration.

Teamwork: Collaboration fuels their creativity. Libras thrive in group settings where they can share ideas and bring projects to life.

Literature: A good book is a cherished companion. They dive into stories that transport them to different worlds, finding wisdom and inspiration in the pages.

Relaxation: Self-care is essential. Libras know how to unwind, whether it’s through a spa day, a warm bath, or a cozy night in with a movie.

Animals: Their love for animals is profound. Many Libras have a soft spot for pets, advocating for their well-being and fostering deep bonds with their furry friends.

Gatherings: Whether hosting or attending, they thrive in festive atmospheres, delighting in the joy of bringing people together.

New Experiences: They embrace life with open arms, seeking out new adventures and hobbies that push them out of their comfort zone.

Cultural Events: From museum exhibitions to theater performances, Libras love to immerse themselves in cultural experiences that expand their horizons.

At their core, Libras are driven by a desire for beauty, balance, and connection. Their love for life and the people around them is contagious, making them cherished friends and partners. So, if you’re lucky enough to know a Libra, celebrate their passions and join them on their journey—it’s bound to be an unforgettable ride!

[ladyinwriting18]

Nest (Clyde Logan x You)

Summary: Clyde Logan can't bare it when his Omega suffers through her heat. To help, he builds a cozy little nest.

Words: 2,640

Warnings: A/B/O, Heat, AlphaxOmega, PIV, Knotting.

Clyde Logan stands in the corner of his bedroom totally focused on fluffing pillows. 

To most, he appeared to just be some small town hick who owned a bar. This perception doesn’t bother him much, because he didn’t see the need for validation from the outside world. Clyde is who he is, and that’s all there is to it. He hadn’t gone to college, and he may not know the Pythagorean theorem or the plot to Hamlet, but there is one thing he did know. And that is that his Omega is about to go into heat.

This explains the pillows and the endless fluffing and replacing he had been doing, he was making a nest. He had already placed a small mattress and draped a canopy with white Christmas lights over it, knowing that would give it a more romantic feel that his Omega would enjoy. There are various blankets laid out, all soft enough to provide comfort when he wasn’t busy making you cum on them. Heats are painful for any Omega. As an Alpha, it’s in his blood to protect and care for what’s his. Something that Clyde is happy to do. Finally pleased with the placement of everything, he adds one last touch. The stuffed animal that he had won for you on your third date. He’s made sure to rub his scent on everything he’s put inside the nest. That way whenever you breathed in, all you would smell is him—your Alpha. 

His ears pick up on the sound of your footsteps coming up the front porch. He can hear how sluggish your movements are. You’d be lucky if you made it till morning before the pain and the unbearable ache of your cunt started.  Keys jingle in the keyhole and the front door opens. Oh. The scent of you fills his home. It’s ten times stronger now that your heat is upon you. You’re probably already soaked through your panties. Thank God he finished the nest in time. “Darlin’?” He calls out to you while walking out of the bedroom. He finds you leaning against the wall by the front door. He’s beside you in an instant, arms wrapping around you so he could help you slip off your jacket. “Alpha’s here lil ‘mega. Are you alright?” You melt into his touch like butter. He was your life raft in the ocean of pain you currently find yourself in. You want nothing more than to be close to him so you bury your head into the fabric of his shirt. “Everything hurts and I’m dying.” You mumble against his chest. Clyde makes a sympathetic noise in the back of his throat. He hates that nature forces you to experience such pain. “Come with me. I have something that might help.” He doesn’t wait for a response. Just simply takes your hand and starts leading you to the bedroom. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the only thing that might help your current state is a bullet to the head. Stepping over the threshold to the bedroom, Clyde steps out of the way to reveal the cozy little nest he’d spent all afternoon constructing. You stop in your tracks, mouth falling open into a tiny ‘o’ shape. “Oh Clyde….Did….Did you do this all for me?” You look up at him with wide glassy eyes. No one had ever put this much time and effort into you before. Seeing this type of devotion from your mate only endears you to him more. You step forward to wrap your arms around his waist and nuzzle your nose against the center of his chest. “Thank you, Alpha. It’s perfect.” A smile twitches at the corners of Clyde’s mouth at the pride that blooms through him.  He pleased his mate. His body vibrates at the thought. He watches as you crawl into your new nest and make yourself comfortable amongst the blankets. You take a hold of one of the pillows and breathe in deeply. 

It smells like him, like warm whiskey, burning firewood and a natural musk that is innately Clyde. You put the pillow down and smile before beckoning him over. He toes off his shoes and crouches down to join you. He lets his hand travel down your leg but doesn’t say a word, just holds your gaze while taking off both of your shoes and tosses them by his. They had no place in your nest where the smell and pollution of the outside world could taint your space. With your shoes gone, he leans in and leaves a chaste kiss to your lips. He settles next to you, resting his back against the wall behind him. “Come here to me, ‘mega. Been thinkin’ bout ya all day.” You don’t hesitate to curl up between his legs and lay your head on his shoulder. A pleased hum leaves him as he wraps an arm around you. The back of your shirt has rolled up a bit, exposing just the tiniest bit of flesh. Still, Clyde can’t help but stroke his fingertips along your lower spine. His prosthetic arm rests in his lap but all the same you take his hand in yours. It never fails to make him feel loved, that you still hold his hand as if he never lost it in the first place. You on the other hand are currently struggling with wanting to fall asleep against him and the heat his touch is causing. His hand dips lower, skimming over the swell of your ass and it’s suddenly all too much. You whine his name, hands moving to grip his tee-shirt. “It’s aching Alpha. Make it better?” He hesitates, not wanting to pressure you if you need to rest, but you shift and put your legs on either side of his hips. “Please Clyde? Your Omega needs your knot.” It's all the reassurance he needs. Without warning his hands grip your ass to pull you in even closer, grinding you down against him so the rough fabric of his jeans rubs against your cunt through your leggings. “Is that so? Ya already wanna dirty up our new nest with all yer cum, huh?” Clyde smirks at you, a devilish look on his usual sweet face. His cock is starting to harden, but still he kisses you softly—to tease you and make you needier. Rationally, he knows he shouldn’t. You’re already suffering but your pleas shoot straight to his cock like nothing else could. To know you needed him, of all people to soothe you. He flips you onto your back, pinning you down to the mattress. His kiss turns passionate, his tongue molding against yours. It isn’t long before you’re pawing at his back, alerting him to the fact that you’re trying to pull his shirt over his head. With a chuckle he breaks the kiss and sits back on his knees. “Strip for Alpha, pretty girl.”

You spring into action, moving quickly to get out of your clothes. It only excites him to start ripping off his own clothes. Neither of you would be needing them anytime soon. Your panties come off and Clyde is hit with your scent at full force. So much so that it almost makes him dizzy. He grabs the innermost part of your thigh and spreads you open with a growl. “Poor girl, been drippin’ all over yerself, haven’t ya?” You whine at him, finding it difficult to form words with how frustrated you feel. He’s taking his sweet time and it’s driving you mad. Just when you’re about to lose what little control you have, he starts undoing his jeans. “Keep those open for Alpha.” He grunts, nodding his head in the direction of your legs so he could stare while pulling his hard cock from his pants. His flesh hand wraps around it, gently stroking while staring into your eyes. “Yer gonna be a good girl and do exactly what I say, ya hear?” He doesn’t bother waiting for a reply, he already knows you’ll obey. With his pants gone, he sits back against the wall and beckons you to him. “Come ride Alpha’s cock.” You scramble to your knees so you can straddle him, but Clyde stops you. “Nu-huh, not that way. Face out, towards that.” He points behind you to the full length mirror he’s placed directly facing the nest. You had been so excited about the new nest that you hadn’t noticed the mirror. The pieces start to fit together in your mind and your cheeks burn. Clyde grins at the expression on your face.  “Smart girl has it all figured out, huh?” Shyly you nod, “Alpha wants to watch as he knots me.” He holds a hand out to you so he can help you get into position without losing your balance. Once you're settled with your back facing him and the head of his length kissing your entrance he whispers in your ear. “Not just that. I want you to watch as I knot ya. I want yer eyes glued to the way I fill that cunt.”

Your breath hitches at his words, making eye contact with him in the mirror as you sink down onto him. You gasp at the feeling of him stretching you open while slipping inside. Clyde grunts, crashing his face into the crook of your neck. “Fuckkkk’ mega. Yer always so tight.” Your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed. 

You feel so full….so complete. Like the two of you are puzzle pieces that are meant to fit together. Slowly you start to grind your hips forward, trying to build up momentum. “H-Help me?” Both prosthetic and flesh hands go to your hips, keeping you steady as he drags you up and down on his cock. You moan out, moving with him to bounce faster on his cock. “Oh God, Clyde. I love how good you feel inside! Hitting me s-so deep!” He growls in response, eyes darting in every direction. From your face, to your breasts, to your slick little cunt that’s currently gobbling up his hard cock. Your eyes close again and Clyde grunts. He wants you to enjoy the view just as much as he is. “Open those eyes.” He thrusts his hips up hard, forcing your eyes to snap open. “Good girl. Watch what Alpha does to ya.” His tone is stern and commanding. It has you clenching around him. His dominance never failed to make you desperate to please him. “I’m watching Alpha! I swear!” The ease at which Clyde maneuvers you on his length makes your cunt drip. He hits a particularly deep spot inside you and you nearly howl from the pleasure. You look at your reflection and watch where your bodies meet, watch him pound into you, watch the juices leak down to his balls. It does nothing but turn you on further. He catches the direction of your gaze, sees that you're fixated on the spot where you’re joined and a cocky grin spreads over his face. You were all his. “Ma lil ‘mega, she says she’s so innocent but her eyes are glued to Alpha’s cock fuckin’ her. That pretty lil cunt all open and drippin’.” Your chest heaves, trying to pull enough air into your lungs to respond but all you can manage to do is bed. “Alpha—fuck! Clyde, more, please more!” You aren’t even sure what it is you’re begging for. All you know is your body is craving release. Using your free hand, you reach up and start tugging on your nipple. It sends jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body.

He huffs against the skin of your shoulder, seeing you act so desperate has his cock throbbing. “That’s it, naughty girl. Look at ya being a whore for me.” It’s something he rarely calls you. So hearing it now has you gasping. Clyde nips are your earlobe, his playful mood continuing. He plants a foot onto the mattress and uses it as leverage to fuck up into you even harder. The more aggressive thrusts have your entire body bouncing a top him. “Is this what ya meant by more?” He grunts in between thrusts and pants for breath. You nod, starting to feel a familiar tightness blooming in your lower belly. You whimper out his name and lean even further back against his chest. Looking at your reflection you can see the dazed look on your face. You look like an utter deprived mess. Your hair is wild, breasts are bouncing, your mouth open in an ‘o’ shape and flesh flushed with sweat. His arm comes around your middle to keep you securely in place as your body slam together. Wet slapping sounds fill the room. “Look at how beautiful ya look. So beautiful and all mine. Say it. Tell me how beautiful ma mate is!” You hesitate and Clyde sucks on your mating gland. Despite the amount of times he’s bitten it and marked you, it still has the power to make you yelp in pleasure. “Say it.” He growls, commanding you to obey. “Say it and I’ll give ya ma knot.” You’d do anything for that. So even though your voice trembles, the words flow from you like water. “I’m beautiful. I’m Alpha’s beautiful mate!” He coos praises to you. “That’s ma girl. Go on and rub that swollen clit. Lets get ya cummin’ so you can take this knot.”  

Your hand dips down between your thighs to your clit. It pulses under your fingertips from being so stimulated. Your orgasm is indeed close and circling your fingers over your clit has your toes curling. You let out a strangled sob….moments away from the edge. “That’s it ‘mega, I’ve gotcha. Cum for me!” He reassures while trying to hold it together but watching his reflection you can see that he’s nearing his peak just as fast. His teeth are bared with sweat forming on his forehead. He looks primal and so fucking delicious. Seeing the fire in his eyes is all you need. Your orgasm hits you hard. Hard enough to make you dizzy, but just as Clyde said—he has you. You let your body focus on nothing else but the tingling numbness of your orgasm. Clyde huffs hotly, movements rougher and sloppier. A few more snaps of his hips and his knot expands at the base of his cock, stretching you out even more as he fills you up. He howls, his own pleasure overtaking him while his knot locks your bodies together. It keeps his seed inside and rushing to the only place it’s meant to go—your womb. Slowly both of your movements come to a stop. Your bodies twitch as muscles unclench and relax. He slumps back against the wall and you slump back against him. The rise and falls of your chests sync up as you come down from your highs. Through shudder breaths he manages to speak first. “Yer alright, sweet girl?” You nod, practically purring now that you’ve been knotted. The ache of your heat has momentarily subsided. With his hand to your stomach he carefully turns you both onto your sides. His knot still keeps you interlocked so he takes care not to cause his mate any discomfort from jostling you around too much.  Once you’re settled, he nuzzles you with his nose and hums words of praise. “Ma good ‘mega. Took yer Alpha’s knot so well. Made me so proud.” You purr in response and let your eyes close. He softly chuckles. “Someone’s sleepy hm? I think ma mate needs herself a nap.” “Maybe just a little one? And then after I can cum for Alpha again?” You whisper shyly. Clyde chuckles again with a nod. “Anything ya want ‘mega.”

[cnnmairoll]

Shy Kiss Assurance

Pairing : Osamu Miya x Reader

a/n : a little something for my beta reader @mitsouya my first time writing for samu and kissing fics in general so I hope this is okay :pray:

The warm afternoon sun gently bathed the cozy living room, casting a golden hue on the plush couch where you and Osamu sat side by side. The faint scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air as the two of you enjoyed a rare moment of tranquility. Though you had been dating for a while now, your relationship with Osamu was still in its early stages, blossoming with every passing day.

However, there was one thing that had been weighing on your mind lately. Your innate shyness prevented you from taking the initiative when it came to physical affection, especially kissing. You cherished every stolen glance, every secret touch of hands, but your heart raced at the mere thought of leaning in to kiss Osamu.

Sensing your inner turmoil, Osamu glanced over at you, his gentle eyes filled with affection. He could sense your hesitation, your reluctance to bridge that final gap between you both. With a soft smile, he reached out and caressed your cheek.

"Hey, Samu," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Osamu's thumb traced delicate patterns against your skin, his touch soothing your nerves. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?"

You took a deep breath, summoning your courage. "Well, Samu... I've been thinking about something lately. It's just that... I really want to kiss you, but I don't know how to ask or initiate it."

A flicker of understanding crossed Osamu's eyes, and a mischievous smile played at the corners of his lips. "Is that so?" he replied, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. "You know, (Y/N), I've been picking up on some subtle hints."

Your eyes widened, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Hints?"

He nodded, his gaze fixed on you. "Oh, yes. The way you steal glances at my lips when I'm talking, the slight hesitation in your touch whenever we get close... It hasn't gone unnoticed, my love."

Embarrassment and relief washed over you simultaneously. You had thought your attempts at dropping hints were subtle, but it seemed that Osamu had been more perceptive than you had imagined. You found solace in knowing that he understood your unspoken desires.

Osamu scooted closer to you, his hand gently intertwining with yours. "You don't have to worry, (Y/N). Remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it. I'm here, waiting, and more than willing to share those kisses with you."

A shy smile graced your lips, your heart fluttering at his reassuring words. His encouragement gave you the push you needed to overcome your shyness. Inching closer, you closed the distance between you, your eyes locked with his.

Osamu's breath hitched as he saw the determination in your eyes. You leaned in slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. Your lips brushed against his, tentative and gentle. It was a tender kiss, filled with unspoken emotions, as if your lips were silently whispering all the words your shy heart couldn't express.

As the kiss deepened, Osamu wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. It was a beautiful harmony of longing and love, a testament to the unbreakable bond you shared. Time seemed to stand still, and in that moment, the world was filled with nothing but the warmth of your connection.

When you finally pulled away, breathless but with newfound confidence, Osamu's eyes sparkled with adoration. "See, (Y/N)? That wasn't so hard, was it?" he teased, his voice filled with affection.

"remember, we're madly in love, so it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it"