#this is actually the first ask i received i think

[starrysturnz]

baby, it’s cold outside!

pairing. matthew sturniolo x reader

summary. when a harsh blizzard hits boston, matt and y/n get snowed in. with the power out, they brainstorm an alternative way to keep each other warm— and where better to do that than by the fireplace?

warnings. smut; softdom!matt, fingering (fem!receiving), unprotected sex, implied creampie, overstimulation (fem!receiving) if you squint. so much fluff. they love each other so much it’s gross.

word count. 1k

author’s note. sorry i’m posting so late… BUT it’s 10:30pm EST so technically it’s on time. this was supposed to be longer but i was traveling today and i didn’t have the energy to keep writing. kisses!

masterlist | taglist | starrysturnz’s christmas countdown

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved. dividers by @cafekitsune.

“i think that’s enough candles, matt,” y/n laughed, the flickering of the flames reflected in her already shining eyes. “you’re going to wear out the lighter.”

matt glanced up just long enough for her to catch the mischievous grin on his illuminated face, setting the pine-labeled jar down. “it’ll last, baby. i can always go get us another one if it dies.”

“not in this weather, you won’t,” the girl scolded, gazing out the window at the white void and snagging a blanket out of the nearby storage closet. “i don’t care how close the corner store is, you’re not going out in that.” she shivered at the thought, coming up behind her boyfriend and draping the fluffy material across his shoulders. her fingers tickled their way around his waist, clasping tightly and hugging him close so she could relax against his back. 

matt’s shoulders jostled her as he chuckled. “c’mon, you know i’m not that stupid. i’d just go next door and ask mr. martínez to lend me one.”

“please. mr martínez hates us. he’d probably let you in just to push you off his balcony.” 

turning around in her grasp, matt opened his arms and ushered y/n into his embrace, securing the blanket to cover her frame. “then it’s a good thing there’s four feet of snow on the ground waiting to catch me, huh?” he swiped the tip of her nose with his knuckle, pulling her in to lay a kiss against her forehead. 

“whatever. i’m not going down there with a hairdryer to thaw you out. you’re on your own.” 

“a space heater would work better, no?” he mused with a smile. “speaking of… we gotta get some heat going in here, it’s freezing. how ’bout a fire, hm? keep us warm ’til they get the power lines back up?”

he felt her nod against his chest. “you do that. i’m gonna go grab the duvet.”

⁺⁎˚

“m-matt…,” y/n whined from beneath him, “please, don’t stop. please.” 

“i’ve barely gotten started, baby,” matt spoke lowly, nosing at her flushed cheek, “why would i stop now?”

a breathy sigh filled the space between them, “because you’re evil, and you’re a tease.”

“if i was evil, would i do this?” she gasped sharply as she felt his fingers curl inside her, hitting that special, spongy spot that always left her weak in the knees. his thumb worked hard on her clit, and a shiver shot down her spine; this time, not from the cold. 

actually, they were quite warm. matt was the one to suggest they build a makeshift bed by the fireplace, and in hindsight, y/n should’ve known he was scheming for more. but she couldn’t lie and say it was uncomfortable or impractical— the many pillows and blankets beneath her made for a really soft mattress, and she was nothing if not cozy. 

but the girl was bordering on impatient. it’s not her fault! it’s just that they’d been doing this for a while now, and the poor girl wanted more. matt’s a giver at heart, and she knew this could go on all night if she didn’t say something. 

“matt…,” she whimpered desperately, hands finding purchase in his hair. a dull ache bloomed at the base of his skull as she tugged. “m-matty—”

“matty?” he laughed. “someone’s desperate… poor thing.” his fingers never relented, and it wasn’t long before her first orgasm finally took over. 

“oh… oh, my god, matt!” y/n’s voice sounded through the small living room, her hips lifting off of the sheets and grinding into matt’s hand as she started coming down from her high. 

“’s right, baby,” he pulled his fingers out, and a whine of discomfort tumbled from her lips. “that’s it, you’re all right. i got you.” 

matt took the opportunity to take his girlfriend in. the sight of her beneath him, half aglow in the firelight, laying like an angel in their improvised bed surrounded by candles. he felt like the luckiest guy in the universe. 

“baby,” his hand came up to her face, stroking her cheek softly with his knuckles, “you’re shaking.”

y/n’s brow furrowed just so, eyes opening to meet his. “oh… sorry….”

“’s nothing to be sorry about. are you cold? i can grab another log to throw in there, or maybe we have another blanket—”

“i have a better idea.” reaching between them, she palmed him through his calvin kleins. 

matt, sucking in a breath through his front teeth, hung his head low as he gathered himself— if he came from one touch alone, he’d never live it down. y/n would make sure he never heard the end of it. 

“you sure you don’t want some water first? maybe just a minute to relax a little? i can wait, promise.” 

the girl leaned up, pressing the tip of her nose to his. “matt,” she whispered, “please fuck me.”

matt smiled and wasted no time ridding himself of his boxers, almost losing his balance and toppling onto her in the process (she laughed at him and offered no help, naturally). he groaned as he sunk in, swallowing her moans with his mouth, fingers finding her clit once again. a shudder ran through her spine at the stimulation. 

“you’re perfect,” he breathed against her neck. wet kisses littered the area, a roadmap of his favorite freckles and blemishes. “what did i do to deserve you?”

y/n wanted to tell him he was born deserving of everything good, but her lips were stuck in a permanent ‘o’ shape. she was putty in his arms, his thrusts jostling her back and forth against the pillows. 

“love you… so much, baby,” those the last words she heard before her second high, matt following soon behind her. a few moments came and went before she nudged his shoulder, and matt took that as his cue to ease up. 

“i love you, too,” y/n broke the silence. “but i think mr. martínez probably wants us evicted now.”

[haikyu-mp4]

Other plans

“Did ya hear about Hinata? Heard he got a girlfriend in Brazil, but I ain't judging or anything!” – @simpingdeadcharacters for my Gossip Event.

word count; 836 – gn!reader

“Shoyooo!” you yelled as you ran onto the sand, the heat of it under your feet barely affecting you as you took such quick steps until you reached Hinata. He opened his arms for you, spinning you around until finally putting you back down, quickly pressing a kiss to your temple. Most of his body was already covered in sand, so you absentmindedly started brushing some off his upper arm. For a second, you salivated at the sight of his tanned biceps, but you were quickly pulled back into the moment when he spoke.

“Took you long enough, slow poke. Ready for a round?” he asked, gesturing to the woman and her son who had taken the other side of the net. Hinata really would play against anyone who wanted to, and it was one of many things that made you fall for the man you now proudly called your boyfriend.

You squinted at the challenge and his teasing remark on you being five minutes late to the match, also making sure to politely greet today’s opponents. “I’m ready when you are.”

And so you spent another perfect day in the sun, playing until your sunscreen ran out. As you sat by the ocean this particular evening, you let your hands slowly rub across Hinata’s shoulders with the aftersun as the actual sun kissed the horizon, leaving the sky in a plethora of colours that you swore only Brazil could emit.

Hinata let out a small moan as you put pressure between his neck and shoulder blades, and you took the hint to keep pressing and help his muscles release the lactic acid. “You played really well today, you’re getting so good at setting,” you praised him, finishing the massage and leaning onto his back, arms hanging loose from over his shoulders. Hinata turned his head to kiss your cheek, nose brushing against your cheekbone.

“Thanks! Your spikes got better as well, but you still beat me on receives.” You chuckled proudly, poking his cheek in a teasing manner.

“I think we make a pretty good team.” Getting up off the sand, you offered him a hand and pulled him up, letting him take you under his arms as you two strolled to the small showers where the sand met asphalt. “You first, hot shot,” you encouraged, pressing the knob that made the water start, only for Hinata to push you straight under it. This water was always so cold, startling you as you squealed and ran back out of reach from the stream.

Hinata laughed, slapping his knee as if someone said the funniest joke ever. “You always fall for that!”

You huffed and smiled, swiftly taking the bag with his clean clothes, bolting onto the sand and towards the ocean. Your boyfriend ran after you on instinct but only realised what you were threatening him with when he saw you holding out his bag towards the water.

Luckily for you, you had lived there much longer and were much more used to running on sand, meaning you left Hinata in the dust for a while. The only problem was that your laughter made it more difficult to breathe, making you more tired, unfortunately slowing you down enough for him to tackle you to the ground.

The two of you tumbled onto the sand, aftersun sticking even more than your sweat had before, but neither of you seemed to care. Hinata smiled when he heard your laugh, tucking his face into your neck and blowing raspberries that always made you laugh even more at the ticklish feeling. Eventually, the raspberries turned into hot, open-mouthed kisses, making you move your head to give him more access.

“Let’s sleep at yours tonight, yeah?” Hinata suggested, and you adored the boyish look on his face when he lifted his face from your neck, pupils blown wide.

“But I miss Pedro,” you complained, giggling when Hinata rolled his eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on movie night with Pedro today,” he said, lips making their way down your neck and across your collarbone to the exposed part of your chest, then pulling your shirt down a little to explore further.

“Ahaa,” you hummed in understanding. “You had other plans?”

Hinata groaned as he finally detached himself from you, getting up off the sand and picking his bag back up where you left it beside you. “I plan on practising some spiking, if you know what I mean.”

The cheeky grin on his face made you slap his arm after getting up, knowing the suggestive meaning behind his words, but not making any attempt at rejecting it.

“Fine, I’ll come see Pedro another day.”

“Stop talking about Pedro when we’re discussing sexy time,” Hinata complained as you moved towards your bikes again, skipping the showers altogether in favour of bringing some beach home.

“Stop comparing my ass to a volleyball,” you countered, making him grin again.

“I can’t help it. That’s all I see.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay with Pedro.”

“Shut up.”

masterlist

[fishbonex]

Sharp thoughts 2/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Things are starting to turn around again.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: insecurities

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

When you realized the way you had spoken to Mel the day before, you wanted to disappear.

What were you thinking? How did you think it was appropriate to talk to a Counselor like that?

Burying your face in your hands, you sighed audibly. Maybe you should start packing your things.

Entering the lab was like committing a crime, walking through the halls was like being wanted. Well, it was all in your head, you knew, in a way. But nothing could stop it from becoming reality.

Losing your privileges and sponsorships, being expelled from your lab and being forgotten were things that could happen if you displeased one of the Council members.

With a dramatic groan, you leaned your head back against the workbench. The richest person in Piltover? You weren't thinking that at all.

At least you were lucky enough not to run into her in the days that followed, which gave you time to think about what to do.

But luck wasn't so great, it seems, because Heimerdinger requested a Council meeting with some of the scientists who occupied the main building. And of course you were among them.

Wearing your formal clothes was still stifling, even after all the time you had been in your profession. Walking and standing in front of the gigantic table with the most important people in the city was even worse.

And there she was. Sitting in all her glory. Her elegant, smooth demeanor was the same, but you didn’t miss the way her expression fell slightly when she laid her eyes on you.

You looked away and swallowed hard, waiting for your turn to speak, which didn't take long because Heimerdinger preferred to interrupt your colleagues whenever he got too excited about their projects.

"Oh yes, you! Come, come closer." he called in his usual cheerful tone of voice. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm very well, professor, thank you-"

"Well, that's great! I've read your latest study, a wonderful thing, I must say." he said, looking around the table, receiving a few nods of approval from the other members. "I hope to be able to read the next one soon, bring it to me as soon as you're done, yes?"

You automatically looked at Mel, since she was the one you took your studies to, she seemed uncomfortable, but remained silent.

"Yes, Professor, of course." you replied politely, clasping your hands in front of you.

"And your engineering projects? I heard from one of your colleagues that you joined him in continuing a magnificent project for the new building—" his cheerful voice was interrupted.

"What engineering projects? I haven't been informed of anything." Mel's voice sounded slightly irritated, different from her usual soft tone.

You turned your head towards her and looked at Heimerdinger again, he gave an encouraging nod and you began to explain yourself.

"It's one of my areas of expertise, which I'm starting to pursue. It's not my project, actually, I'm just going to make a contribution." your voice sounded timid.

"You didn't know? I thought you were her sponsor, Councilor." Jayce's voice came through and only then did you realize he was there.

"I am. One of the sponsors, actually. I demand that your projects be brought to me, it is my responsibility to bring them to the Council." she said it firmly, alternating her eyes between you and Heimerdinger, who just nodded resignedly.

Mel had never spoken to you like that. Giving orders like you were a clueless maid.

"Well." Heimerdinger cleared his throat. "This meeting is adjourned."

You didn't wait for any further orders, turning on your heel and walking quickly back to your lab, letting out a tired sigh as you closed the door behind you.

"Didn't you ever think to tell me you were involved in engineering?" Mel's melodious voice rang out the moment you entered her office in the Council building.

"You never asked me, counselor." you replied, trying to sound polite.

"Won't you stop this?" she raised her voice in annoyance, her pretty face twisting into an angry expression. "Please, we're adults."

You swallowed and nodded, "You're right. I feel really bad... about the way I spoke to you earlier. I shouldn't meddle in your personal relationships."

"You're a personal relationship of mine." she raised an eyebrow. "Don't apologize, I would have been the same way if I witnessed someone having... sexual intercourse."

You felt the back of your neck heat up and sighed, "You were in your house anyway. I'm the one who broke in."

"You didn't broke in, I made it clear that you could come in whenever you wanted. That remains the same." she walked around the table, the clicks of her heels becoming present. "I must also apologize for the way I conducted myself at the Council."

"There's no need-"

"Jayce is a good man, but my relationship with him is... carnal. And business-related." she took a few steps closer. "If that's what's keeping you from me."

"Counselor, I don't-"

"Don't tell me no. You don't want me anymore?" she reached out to pull your hands toward her.

"No one in their right mind would give up on you." you blurted out and widened your eyes slightly afterwards, earning a giggle from Mel.

"Well, that's great then." she hooked her arms around your neck and leaned her face down to you, pressing her delicate lips against yours.

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day ten ❆ ugly sweaters

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

 you and ghost bet on who can wear their ugly holiday sweater the longest. it's only a matter of time before one of you gets too desperate to keep it on. 2.7k

❆ pairing: ghost x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; slight possessive ghost; impatient ghost; oral sex [f receiving]; fingering; piv sex; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it); creampie

For such an intimidating and serious man, Simon was an absolute sucker for the cheesiness that came with the holidays. From the terrible movies to the cliché romantic gestures, he was more excited than one would think when it came to holiday celebrations. But, this year, he seemed interested in a particularly terrible aspect of the holiday season: ugly sweaters.

And the ones he got for the two of you certainly were ugly. Bright, obnoxious patterns that clashed, tinsel sewn in along the front, and small bulbs that actually lit up at the press of a button. They were, decidedly, terrible. And that’s exactly why he got them.

Although, he had intended for it to be something cute between the two of you. Wearing them around in the comfort of your home just to bask in the cheesiness together. What he hadn’t intended was your insistence on wearing the sweaters to a friend’s party. You thought it was the perfect opportunity to show up donning something atrocious, especially with such a big, intimidating guy like Simon. But he was hesitant, and you could tell. The man had somewhat of a reputation to uphold, after all. 

It took some convincing, but he came around to the idea. It might’ve got him some attention, which he wasn’t always a fan of, but it would be fun—and what were the holidays without a little cheer? But, to make things a little more fun, you decide to make it a bet—10 quid to whoever could stomach sitting in a sweater longer. That got him (and his competitive spirit) interested.

And, thankfully, the party was going well. Your friends were huge fans of the absurdly ugly sweaters the two of you wore. Even the people you didn’t know made a point to comment on the tinsel or lights that adorned the fabric. You loved the attention, loved seeing everyone laugh or brighten up when you showed off the terrible sweater. 

Simon was less enthusiastic. He liked the comedy of it all, particularly with your friends. But he wasn’t fond of the attention you seemed to garner from some friends-of-friends—a few guys you weren’t familiar with—who made it known how attractive they thought you were…even with the sweater. You didn’t think much of it when they complimented you, but nothing got past your boyfriend’s eagle eye. 

He sought you out like a dog, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close against his chest. It surprised you at first, especially when he held you like a vice. Slunk in the corner of the room like he didn’t want anyone else to see the two of you. 

Tension radiated off of him in thick waves, plainly evident by the way stood. “You alright?” You ask him, a hand on his chest in an attempt to ease whatever had him worked up.

There’s a beat of silence and a sigh before he responds. “Yeah,” is all he says, tight-lipped and sharp. You didn’t believe it for a second. “Jus’ want you close.”

He emphasizes the point by pulling you closer, if it were even possible. You were pressed up against his chest, his firm grip around your body keeping you in place. And when you squirm to try and get comfortable, that’s when you feel a familiar firmness pressing against your hip. 

“Are…are you hard?” You whisper the words softly for both his sake and yours. 

“You’re surprised?” He grumbles back. No wonder he was so tense.

“Seriously? This disgusting sweater,” you gesture to the tinsel-lined fabric on your torso, “and I still got you hard?”

“Well, those other guys really seemed to like it.”

Oh, so that’s what it was about. A few guys that were probably tipsy laughing about your absurd choice of dress. Granted, they were a little…personal about their compliments, but it didn’t take much for Simon to get possessive over you. The wrong guy could look at you and he’d feel the need to shove his tongue down your throat just to make a point. 

You roll your eyes at him, at the audacity to get worked up over something so minor. “Simon—”

“Where’s the bathroom in this place?”

Definitely not what you expected to come out of his mouth. But maybe he wanted the privacy. And you wouldn’t argue that he needed a few minutes to himself to calm down. 

“Past the kitchen, down the hall, I think,” you shrug, pointing in said direction.

“Show me.”

Christ. You roll your eyes again, taking his heavy hand in yours and dragging him behind you. Slinking past people and trying not to draw any attention to yourselves, you sidle down the hall until you reach the bathroom. You give Simon a look, something that said ‘hurry up and do what you have to do’, but then his hand is gripping yours tighter and he’s pulling you into the bathroom with him.

You could barely get a breath in before your back hit the wall. Simon’s body cages you in place, pressing his weight against you as his mouth finds yours in a sloppy kiss. The way his hands run over you is hurried and desperate, grabbing whatever parts of you he can to pull you closer. The bulge of his cock presses into your hip each time he tugs, grinding against you with each roll of his hips.

“Christ, Simon,” you manage to slide your mouth away long enough to catch your breath. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“‘Cause you’re hot,” his mouth trails down to your jaw, “and you’re mine,” a sharp nip of his teeth on your neck, “and I can’t wait til we get home to fuck you.”

One of his hands slides under the hem of your sweater, fingers splaying over your stomach before sliding upwards. Rough fingertips trace the line of your waist, dipping into your bra to grope your chest. His impatience extends to your clothing, trying to tug the sweater up and off your body, until you press a hand to his chest.

“Nuh-uh…” You pull your sweater back down and playfully swat his hands. “The bet. Remember?”

Simon audibly grumbles at that. He pulls his hands away from your torso, moving to grab your hips. “That’s fine,” he sighs. “Don’t gotta take it off yet.”

Then he’s dropping to his knees and tugging your pants down your body. His mouth trails kisses over the front of your panties before licking a fat stripe over your clit through the fabric. Impatience gets the better of him again, nearly tearing through the flimsy garment as he pulls it down your legs and exposes you to his hungry gaze. 

And ‘hungry’ didn’t even begin to describe him. When he got between your legs, he moved like he was starving for you. Burying his face in your cunt, lapping and sucking like your slick was the only thing he lived off of, holding your hips in place so you can’t buck away from his mouth. It was intense right from the start. 

“Si…Jesus, baby…” Your head falls back against the wall, hips arching into his mouth just to chase the wet friction of his tongue. “We’re really doing this here?”

You feel him hum a ‘mm-hmm’ into your cunt that vibrates through you. His fingers dig into your hips keeping you pinned to the wall, nearly aching in their intensity. His tongue runs flat over your clit, circling in perfect strokes, before running down to prod at your hole. His face is buried in between your legs like he doesn’t want to let himself breathe; he’s more concerned with letting you grind against his nose than keeping himself conscious.

You almost wanted to damn him for being so good with his mouth. It was a struggle to keep yourself quiet enough to not get caught, covering your mouth with your hand just to stifle the moans that slipped past your lips. He wasn’t doing a great job at keeping quiet either—he was groaning into your cunt with every other wet suck and lap of his tongue. Looking down to see him knelt between your legs was always a sight you loved to see, even now with that horrendous sweater on his body, and it rocked you to your core seeing those brown eyes staring up at you. He could devour you with his eyes just as well as his mouth.

In fact, you’re so distracted by his eyes boring into you that you don’t notice his hand slipping between your legs until you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance. It was already hard to keep quiet, but when two thick digits slide into your cunt, it was near impossible to stop yourself from crying out. A shaky gasp and you’re whimpering out for him, reaching down to thread your fingers through Simon’s hair. The sharp tug only makes him groan as he focuses his mouth on your clit. 

He barely gets in a few thrusts of his fingers before you start to tremble. The dual sensation sends sparks through you, pumping thick in your veins. “Fuck, Si, ‘m not…you’re gonna make me cum…”

“Good,” he mutters against your cunt. “Want you to soak my fuckin’ face.”

The thought was filthy—the possibility of him smelling like you around all those people—but, God, did it make you shiver. Your slick walls fluttered around his fingers, clit throbbing against his tongue, and with one last focused curl of his fingers, you were struggling to keep yourself upright as your orgasm pulsed through you. Your knees felt weak as you rocked your hips into his mouth, grinding his digits deep inside you. The thought of someone hearing your panting moans was the last thing on your mind as Simon focused on drawing out every last drop of your slick cum.

You were still quivering when he pulled back, licking his lips of your cum as he stood tall in front of you. His heavy hands find your hips, pulling you flush against his body. The taste of your cunt floods your tongue when he seeks you out for more sloppy, hungry kisses. Your hand moves to run over the thick outline of his cock, squeezing him through his jeans, feeling his responding groan against your lips.

He wastes no time freeing himself, so desperate and hurried he seems like he could rip the leather of his belt in half if he were any more needy. He’s guiding his cock to your hand almost as soon as he fishes it out, rolling his hips to grind into your palm. You grant him a few steady strokes just to hear him moan into your mouth. It doesn’t last longe before his impatience gets the better of him once again.

A strong arm hoists one of your legs in the air with a force that nearly makes you topple over. Then his cock is running through the slick coating your cunt, the head spreading you open before sliding deep inside. The stretch nearly takes your breath away, the angle of his cock hitting something soft in your core. Trying to muffle each other’s sounds by kissing and nipping at each other’s lips incessantly, swallowing his grunts while he forces breathy pants from your lungs. 

Your back hits the wall on each deep and hard thrust, pinned against the hard surface by Simon’s weight pressing into you. His cock fills you completely, the head kissing your deepest parts on each downstroke, your slick walls hugging him tight as you quiver. Your hands dig into the rough fabric of the sweater over his shoulders as you try to ground yourself amidst the sensations. 

“Fuck, m’sorry, baby, I just couldn’t fuckin’ wait,” he pants against your mouth, voice strained with the need to be quiet. 

“I know, Si. S’okay.” You reassure him between the moans forced out of your mouth. Your hands cup his cheeks as you rest your forehead against his. “You like the sweater, then?”

He smiles at that. “I like you.” A sharp thrust makes you tighten around him, drawing a gruff sound from his throat. “Want everyone here to know that. That you’re mine.”

His movements turn rough and snappy, hard and quick thrusts that turn your moans staccato. You have to bite your lip for any hope of keeping yourself quiet. He holds you tight, rough fingertips pressing bruisingly into your skin, while he ravages you with need. 

Sweat beads on his brow over his red, flushed skin. He’s panting into your mouth, straining with the effort of holding back. The heat and friction is almost suffocatingly intense as it completely floods your senses. 

“Christ, it’s hot…” he grumbles, his hips starting to slow. He leans back slightly, hands falling off of you to move to the hem of his sweater. He pulls it off in one swift movement, throwing it to the floor without a care in the world, before latching his hands back onto your body. 

You seek out his chest with your own hands, feeling the hot flush of his skin. The sinewy muscles in his body flex with each movement as he fucks you. Fingertips trace the scars that litter his skin in gentle strokes, almost reverent in the way you touch him. All it did was remind you why you loved seeing him bare—the implications of trust behind it. 

Though now it was all shrouded in a layer of lust and arousal that made your head spin. You couldn’t think straight as he bullied his cock into you with deep strokes. All that mattered was the way he felt, the way he held you tighter when he couldn’t last any longer. 

“Give it to me, Si,” you pant encouragingly between his forceful movements. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, hot breath splaying over your skin. “Always.” He practically growls the word. 

Simon doesn’t hold himself back, slamming into you with another set of those sharp and rough thrusts that take your breath away. Grunts and moans and whimpers and every sound in between falls freely without any care for who might hear it. He pushes you against the wall with all his weight, burying himself to the hilt as his cock begins to twitch. You can feel him throbbing with each pump of cum that spills inside you.

His hips rock in shallow thrusts while he rides out the last of the sensation. His bruising grip loosens on your body, and he gently sets your leg down as the two of you catch your breath. You swallow thickly, hands coming up to rest on his cheeks as you guide his head away from your neck. He looks fucked out—pupils blown under heavy eyelids, sweaty and flushed, panting for air. You can’t help but smile at the sight.

“You lose.”

Still catching his breath, Simon gives you a confused look. “What?”

“The bet,” you remind him. You tap a finger against his bare chest for emphasis, “you took your sweater off. You lose.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Doesn’t feel like a loss.”

No, it didn’t. The only loss he felt was when he slid out of you, pulling back so the two of you could get dressed. You were suddenly thankful that he dragged you to the bathroom; the mirror could help you at least attempt to look like you hadn’t just been fucked against the wall. You only hope your friends won’t question where you and your boyfriend disappeared to, or you might not get invited back next year.

Watching Simon shrug his sweater back on, you could tell he’d grown to dislike it. The uncomfortable fabric and obnoxious tinsel and lights didn’t make it a fun thing to wear—especially when he was still sweaty. You could tell he’d probably lose his mind if he had to wear it for another hour.

“You owe me ten quid,” you remind him. You hadn’t actually expected any payment since neither of you took the bet very seriously, but it was fun to remind him that you won.

“I give you a lot more than ten quid when we’re back home.”

To that, you had no doubt. And the impatience still buzzing off of him made it apparent that going home was going to happen sooner rather than later. You weren’t complaining. The party was fun, but you’re sure your friends would understand. 

Who knew ugly sweaters could be so damn hot?

[mollyrolls]

stop the clock 𖦹 matsukawa i. x reader

day 8: the name drop

in collaboration with get ugly by @eggyrocks @warlocksoup

an: if you guys haven't seen my rampant screaming, eggy's new phenomenal fic get ugly is in the stc universe!!! you must go read it and give eggy love otherwise ill eat you

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“You broke my heart, you know that?”

Issei calls out to the expanse of the store as he enters, foot barely past the threshold before he speaks.

“Uh, sorry?”

Suddenly, his blood runs cold. The voice coming from the desk is not the one he’s come to love, but a completely new one. He turns slowly, preparing himself for the embarrassment he will have to endure.

Sitting in her perch was a shorter guy, with a streak of blonde cutting right through his hair. He’s looking at Issei like he knows him, which is confusing because Issei’s sure this is the first time he’s seen him.

Upon seeing his face, the guy from the counter breaks into a huge grin.

“Oh my god, you must be Mattsun.”

Adjusting slightly to appear more relaxed, he gives a tentative smile.

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

The guy leans forward on his elbows, watching him like a TV show.

“How much money have you actually spent on cherries? It’s got to be like ¥4000 at this point.”

This peaks his interest significantly. He hasn’t told anyone but Makki and Suna about the cherries, because he had to explain the new business expense he’d been logging, so it must have been her.

This of course means-

“She talks about me?” He can hardly contain his glee at this news.

“Yeah. It’s not-”

Issei puts a hand up to stop the guy. He doesn’t care to hear what she’s been saying, for better or for worse. Since it’s likely worse, the knowledge that he consumes the tiniest bit of space in her brain is enough for him.

As he does so, the guy splits into a huge grin.

“You’re just like I imagined. Can I please watch you flirt? I need this for science.”

Before he can do anything, the guy behind the counter yells out to the store. 

Yells her name. Something in Issei’s head starts to spin. 

He wanted to know her name. So badly that he was chastised relentlessly by Makki for spending his whole shift on his phone with Suna. They had scoured every corner of her spotify account, looking for anything to identify her.

Tragically, she’d prepared for him. Her username was just a bunch of numbers, she had no profile name or picture, and all the playlists were simply numbered 1-16. 

So yes, knowing her name was like fireworks sparking in his head. But this was not how he wanted to learn it. He likes that she makes him work; he wanted it to be a prize that he’d earned.

At the sound of her name, she appears behind the little isles and looks over at where they are. Issei can’t help but notice she’s in his corner. Where the cherries are. 

As she makes eye contact with Issei, her facade cracks. Surprise, embarrassment, realization, embarrassment, collected, all in the span of a few seconds. She comes around to round out their circle, not really looking at Issei. 

He thinks it’s weird seeing her from this angle. She’s not different, maybe a little nervous, but not enough to really change her demeanor. Yet, without the safety of her counter she looks more vulnerable. 

“Is something wrong, Noya?” She asks the guy behind the counter, seemingly unprepared to handle Issei. 

Noya grins cheekily, and gestures to the space between them as if inviting the show to begin. She glowers at him but he seems unaffected. Issei’s impressed; if he was on the receiving end of that glare he’d need some new pants.

Noya beams wider before turning to him again. “Cmon, let’s see it! Lay on the charm man.” 

“You’re gross. And stealing from me by still being clocked in,” She bites back before Issei can even start. He just stands back and watches their exchange, like a spectator at the zoo. 

Something in him is jealous of Noya and the way he can get her to shed her skin. Regardless, he takes what he can get. Despite his nasty gut feeling, he’s seeing a side of her he’s never gotten access to. What she’s like with her friends, when she’s not putting on her facade. Who his mystery girl really is.

Noya eventually concedes after being threatened short of death and is pushed out of the store. Before he disappears into the dusk, he whispers something to her that makes her eyes roll all the way to the back of her head. 

She watches him turn the corner and disappear into the night, and Issei notices the steadying breaths she has to take.

Upon re-entering the store, she looks more collected. As she tucks her hands in her back pockets, she rocks a little on her feet. He looks down and notices the boots she’s sporting, and the tiniest little streak on the toe.

“So.”

His attention is brought back up when she addresses him, still swaying slightly.

“So?”

She shifts her shoulders back reflexively, like she’s ready for a fight. “You know my name now.”

He looks back at her, saying nothing. She doesn’t take the bait.

“What, you aren’t gonna berate me to death? Wax poetic about how beautiful it is and how it suits me and how when you heard it, angels sang?”

He tries to hide a smile. “Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “What happened to you?”

He gives a tiny shrug.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m still the same old Issei.”

Unconvinced, she glares at him a little longer. He takes it on the chin. When she presses, he stands firm.

Issei thinks she’s sorting things out in her head. He’d give her whatever she needs, even if it makes his knees a little weak, and right now that means a silent dressing down. His hands are sweaty.

“This is unnerving.” She admits after a few moments, then turns on her heel to walk back deeper into the store.

Issei waits a couple moments then follows.

“What is?”

“You.” She reaches her destination, and starts to restock his cherries.

“Haven’t I always annoyed you though?”

“Yeah. But this is different.”

She continues picking up the pots from the box, rotating them around and sliding them into their place. There’s about 20 little jars, only taking up a single shelf.

Issei lingers nearby, leaning on the doors of a fridge. His back radiates enough heat to make some condensation. “How do you mean?”

She stops for a second in contemplation; looking over her shoulder to peer at him again, turning thoughts over in her mind. She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it just as fast. 

In her hesitancy, Issei notices a touch of vulnerability in her eyes. It’s hidden deep behind her irises, but he knows her now. With a blink, it’s gone.

 Instead, she lets out a deep sigh, a bit of frustration and a drop of disappointment.

“I dunno. Never mind.”

“Hey, cmon.” Issei tries to probe her again, keep her talking, but she grows resolute in her decision. She quickly emits an energy that is impenetrable. He doesn’t have the tools yet to identify a crack.

He stands and waits for an opening, one that she doesn’t give. The condensation from the fridge starts to drip down his neck. 

He feels a buzz in his pocket, and sees a text. 

suna [9:57 pm]: ur gonna b late. get some salt while ur there, quit harassing women, and hurry up

He can’t help the small grunt of annoyance he lets out, resentment growing at everything around him. 

When he looks back up, she’s staring at him in a way he’s never seen. There’s not a lack of emotion, there’s too many to sort. He expects her to glance away, and she does.

The whirr of the fridges is louder than normal.

“I’ll uh… I’ll see you around,” Issei starts, feeling oddly small. He scuffs his shoe, hoping she’ll ask him to stay, or ask him a clarifying question, or anything other than this suffocating silence. When nothing comes, he pushes off the wall and starts down the aisle.

He really does try to leave, but sometimes he can’t help himself. He pauses, and she watches.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s lame your friend ruined that bit. It was kinda fun having the mystery.”

She takes the peace treaty gratefully, but still doesn’t speak.

“If you want, we can agree to forget it? I’ll earn it fair and square?”

There’s a little chuckle, mostly to herself, before she replies.

“Are you even capable of forgetting that?”

He laughs, somewhat from relief that he had managed to salvage whatever he’d fucked up.

“Nah, probably not. I can try though.”

She dismisses that with a wave of her hand.

“Why bother. I’ll just… put bleach in Noya’s shampoo or something.”

He grins at her, easy and open. She doesn’t return it, but stands up a bit more casually. 

The unspoken words between them weigh heavy in the air, but it’s returned to a level that Issei can manage. They’re closer than he’d thought.

He realizes he’s been staring, trying and failing to place her perfume. Issei ducks his head quickly, before turning and walking out more intentionally.

Right before he reaches the door, he turns around one last time. To his surprise, he meets her eyes. 

“I- I hope the concert was good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He can’t hear her from across the store, but sees her mouth ‘bye.’

By the time he gets to work, he’s distracted. Anytime a woman tries to flirt with him, all he can think of is the melody behind her eyes, and what was going through her head. 

Issei doesn’t make that many tips that night.

She’s hunched over her drawing table, various trashed doodles surrounding her. Her phone is plugged into the wall, just above 14%. It always dies faster when she’s on the phone.

“I don’t see what the big deal is?”

Seven’s voice is breathy over the speaker, she’s out in the cold. She fills in the background of her strip with haphazard crosses.

“So he’s a little dorky guy with a crush. Is he threatening?”

She lets out a half-there chuckle. “No. He likes batman band-aids.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Her pencil tip breaks from the pressure. 

“I-”

Instead of sharpening it, she fishes for another.

“I think he actually likes me. Like, not as a bit.”

Over the speaker, some rock radio comes over from Seven’s side. It’s loud enough that she can hear it. It makes her cringe.

“Is that so bad?”

The response takes so long that Seven has to ask if she’s there.

“Yeah. It is.”

She hangs up before she’s faced with the next probing question.

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[anon-sect]

Pete heard a special contest was being hosted by Chris Hemsworth. One lucky winner would receive a prize from the actor in person. He was a big fan of him and the many roles that he had played in his acting career. He went to the website and saw the contest. All he needed to do was answer some questions and submit the questionnaire. He then would be entered for whatever the prize would be.

It was a month later that Pete received an email stating that he won the contest. He would be receiving plane tickets to meet up with the actor in a couple of days. All hotel arrangements would be made in person once they meet. He was so excited. He really wondered what his prize would be. Yet, the honor of winning out of how many entered was just enough to have him jumping up and down. He couldn't wait to actually meet Chris in person.

Three days later, Pete was in a limo heading out to the actor's actual residents. That was surprising to him. He really wasn't expecting this. Now, he really began to wonder what the prize was. They didn't even bother to make hotel arrangements yet before he was ushered to his house.

Pete was met at the front door by the actor himself. "Come on in, Pete. And congratulations on winning the contest." Chris greeted him. Pete followed him in and sat on the couch in his den. "Want anything to drink? I have tea and water." He was really shocked. The actor was being so friendly with him after just meeting for the first time. "Water is fine." He told him.

He saw Chris come back with a glass of sparkling water. Pete took it and began to guzzle it down. "You probably are wondering what your prize is." He heard him say. He just nodded in response to the actor.

Chris watched as Pete finished the glass of water. He pulled out his phone and opened up the newest upgrade to the TF Pro App. The newest upgrade was TF Max app. He put in the setting on his phone. "Your prize is to help me work out at home. The water you drank has a special ingredient in it. It will make you extremely durable. But unfortunately, it will have a few side effects." He paused. "All of your senses would be heightened by almost 1,000%. All normal feelings will be at the extreme. But this is the only way to make sure you last for a very long time." He added.

Pete was so confused at what was really going on. "How specifically will I be helping you work out at home?" He asked him.

"It's best that I show you." Chris told him as he hit the flash option on his phone. A brand new pair of sneakers were there in front of him. "You will be my special pair of sneakers to wear when I work out. With the new app, I could repurpose you as I please and even turn you back to normal even if your data is deleted." He paused and laughed a little. "I guess it's not much of a prize when I am the one gifted with nearly indestructible sneakers. No time like the present to test you out." He spoke as he gathered his new sneakers and went to change into his workout gear.

Pete didn't know what to think. He didn't know whether to be upset that the act literally made him into shoes for his use; or to be honored, the actor selected him for that purpose. Moments later, he saw two socked feet enter his shoes bodies. The socked feet pressed down on his insole face. It was then he realized the nature of his fate. The pain was so intense that he was going mentally insane. It literally felt like an entire continent was crushing him, but no death. Even though the actor's feet hadn't stink yet, he could smell every pore on his feet with intensity. He could taste the cotton of the fresh socks.

Pete's fate got even worse as Chris worked out over an hour. The pain of being crushed was never-ending. But add on a sweaty and musky pair of socks. He was in a living hell. The intensity of the odor was crazy. The taste of sweaty socks made him want to gag for fresh water and air. The fact that the actor was working out without a single care about how his sneakers were faring made him realize he was literally the actor's property. He admired Chris, but to be his personal pair of sneakers was a little bit too much. He wanted to go back to being human, not an object on his feet forever.

Chris finished his workout feeling good. His feet felt no pain. His new shoes were working out perfectly. He thought about thanking the guy for offering himself, but who really thanks their shoes. It was time for him to get used to his new life. All of his other fan created objects did eventually. His new shoes were no different.

[darksigns-exe]

a prayer to venus - noah sebastian x ofc

warnings: panic attacks, questioning of gender, dysphoria, swearing, handjobs (m receiving), oral sex (f receiving), unprotected intercourse

word count: 21k

note: hi! this is a big boy so i'll keep things brief. special thanks to @deathblacksmoke, @circle-with-me, @sitkowski and @baddestomens <3 thank you for your help with this one.

as this is a very long fic there is a chance that i may have missed a warning. if you do find something that you think should be added please let me know <3

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Watching Maya get ready even though they have nowhere to go quickly becomes Noah’s favourite pastime. She’s humming along to the song playing in the background, not really paying attention to him. He knows that she likes the routine of it. Having a little bit of structure would probably do him good too. Noah’s had so much time to think that he’s starting to get sick of the inside of his own head. 

And it’s only been two weeks with no end in sight. 

The one good thing about this is that he gets to spend as much time with his girlfriend as he wants. Although, he’s sure that Maya will eventually get a little tired of him hanging around like this all the time. Sure, he’s doing his own things. But this will be the most time they’ll have together without a break since they’ve gotten together about two years ago, and he really doesn’t want her to get tired of him. 

He’s been so distracted that he hasn't noticed that Maya had long finished getting ready. 

“We have a problem.” she says, sounding so very displeased. 

Noah snaps out of his thoughts then, “What’s up?”

“Does the internet work on your phone?” 

He checks and – nothing. 

“Again?” 

Noah tries not to sound as frustrated as he feels. This is maybe the fourth time this week that their internet connection just stopped working. According to the provider, there’s nothing they can do about it. A lot of people online or something like that. 

“Let me just text Ellie that I can’t make it to the meeting today, and then we can see what we’ll do.”

Noah watches intently as she types the message into her phone.

As much as this all is going to suck, he’ll get to wake up to her every morning and that makes it a little bit better. 

The day drags by so tortuously slowly. They’ve watched two movies, had lunch and watched another three episodes of a show when the boredom really sets in. 

Maya lies with her head in his lap. The show playing in the background is long forgotten as they both do their own little things. 

“You should let me put make-up on you some time.” It sounds like a desperate attempt to keep herself busy. 

Noah has historically been rather bad at saying no to her, so it’s no surprise that he finds himself sat in front of her little vanity just a little while later. He’s happy to entertain Maya, and the upside of this is that he gets to be so very close to her. Having this time together will be good for them. Not that they’ve been struggling before, but actually getting to be a real couple for a little bit without having to deal with the distance will be nice. 

Maya tilts his chin up just a little. 

“Close your eyes for a moment.”

He has no idea what she’s doing. No amount of watching her do this will make him understand what the individual products she uses are. Whatever she’s doing feels nice, though. 

Maya’s fingers brush across the tops of his cheeks, before he feels the tickling of a brush follow in their path. 

“If you’re not careful, I’m going to force you to wear sunscreen.” Maya says then, and he knows that she’s smiling. 

“Is that a promise?” 

She smacks his shoulder playfully, “It’s a threat.” 

He loves what they have. 

They’d met at a friends’ show, literally bumping into each other at the bar. Noah had been hooked from that first moment. Maya had been the reluctant one. But he’d persevered. Noah had “played” best friend for a year before she’d eventually asked him if he’d like to be her date to her brother's wedding. Maya had caught the bouquet that day. He doesn’t remember how the kiss happened, they’d both had plenty to drink at that point. All Noah remembers is that after that day, everything had changed between them. Sure, he’d slept over at her place before and sure, he’d slept in her bed. But when Noah had woken up that morning, it had all felt so different. They’d never really cuddled, but then he’d woken up to Maya curled against his front, arm slung across his body. They’d sort of stumbled into this relationship, and it had taken Noah a whole month to build up the courage to ask her if they were a thing now. He’ll never forget how Maya had smiled at him then. How she’d asked him if he kisses all of his friends like he kisses her. It hadn’t been long until he’d moved into her place to maximise the time they’d have between tours. 

Two years later, Noah still feels all warm inside when she looks at him like that. 

“Alright.” Maya says finally, “All done. Have to admit, I think I’ve outdone myself.” 

What he sees in the mirror doesn’t immediately reach his brain. 

Noah has always been somewhat sure about himself, albeit a little insecure and unsatisfied when it comes to his height and weight. So really, he can’t explain the feeling that barrels through his brain like a freight train at that moment. He can’t tear his eyes away. Narcissus has nothing on him.

It’s almost as if he’s had a minor problem with his vision and has tried on glasses for the first time. It had never seemed off, but now that something has changed – 

He shoves the thought to the back of his mind. 

Nothing has changed. 

Maya put a little bit of stuff on his face and he can admit that it’s aesthetically pleasing. Nothing more. 

Nothing has changed. 

Noah can pick up on the similarities to how Maya does her own make up. And it feels a little like recognising her handwriting between countless others. Not that he knows a lot about this, but he’s watched her do it for long enough now to have at least a little bit of an idea. 

He finds Maya’s eyes in the mirror. 

She’s plotting something. 

“Can I take a couple of pictures, for reference?” she asks a moment later. 

Noah tries to give an indifferent shrug, “Sure.” 

He’s never worried about that before, and he won’t start now. Maya takes plenty of pictures of him for reference. 

He trots after her into the room she uses as a studio. Noah knows this routine by now. He stands in front of the white backdrop waiting for Maya to get her camera out and ready. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t deny the little pit that still sits in his chest. There’s a tightness there that he hadn’t felt an hour ago. 

Half an hour later, Noah finds himself under the burning hot stream of their shower. Maybe blasting himself with scalding water will make this go away. Surely, anyone would have a brief moment of questioning for lack of a better word if they saw themselves like that. He reasons it’s a normal thing. If you see yourself looking entirely different for the first time, it has to do something to your brain. But it doesn’t have to mean anything. 

When he steps out of the shower some twenty minutes later, he’s managed to quiet his mind somewhat. Noah’s sure that this was just a combination of the make-up and the absolute havoc this lockdown has already caused in his brain. 

It’s a little jarring. 

It’s been a little over a week, and he's still thinking about this. 

Noah shakes the thought from his brain — or tries to at least. The thing is that it’s very persistent. A nagging little thing at the stem of his brain that refuses to leave him alone. 

And worst of all, he can’t even really name it. He can’t pinpoint what it exactly is, and maybe that makes it so much worse. Can’t fight a thing you can’t name and all that. Then again, he doesn’t even know if this is a thing he can fight. 

Noah shakes the mouse to wake his pc up again. He scrolls past countless of unread messages until he finds Nick's contact. 

Are you busy?

His message doesn’t stay unanswered for long, and before long, Nick’s reply pops up on his screen. 

Looking to get your ass beat again? Give me five minutes need to feed the cats

The familiarity of Nick will take his mind off this. It isn’t that Maya didn’t, but every time he looks at her, his chest feels tight with this fucking feeling. Noah feels terrible about it. He hates that this thing has tinged the way he looks at his girlfriend. 

It’s seven when Maya knocks at the door of his little studio space. 

“Dinner?” she asks, poking her head through the crack in the door. 

A quick goodbye to Nick later, they’re seated in the living room, with a spread of styrofoam containers on the coffee table in front of them. 

He’s sure that Maya has ordered about every possible option on the menu of their go-to Filipino place. They’ll have enough leftovers for the next few days. 

Noah ends up with his head in her lap. He loves the attention she showers him with. The manicured tips of her fingers scratch against his scalp, just the way he likes it. He’s long stopped paying attention to the documentary they’re watching. The mix of her touch and the warmth of her body lulls him into a comfortable pre-sleep state. And in this drowsy state, he feels a little bit of peace for the first time in a week. Maybe tearing himself away from Maya like this was the wrong way to go about it after all. 

Noah walks down the hallway. This feels familiar – he knows this venue. They’ve played this venue before. His feet lead him into the last restroom before the stage. The lights are still on. Right, he just saw Folio exit the door. His eyes find the mirror – the softer features, the painted skin. Sometimes it still slips her mind. Maya had helped her again, her hands got too shaky to do her make-up on her own.  This is their first show back.  New album, new everything.  It doesn’t feel as scary as it probably should.  She rights her shirt, tugs on the belt until the buckle is properly centred. Noah hears them outside. She’s sure that she can hear Matt and Nick talking about something in front of the door. Something about the last few shows of the tour selling out too.  They huddle up. Jolly says something about how they’ll be better than ever tonight. She feels Nick squeezing her shoulder. Folio’s excitement bubbles over into her. 

Noah feels incredibly disoriented when he wakes up. He doesn’t usually remember his dreams, and this one was especially odd. He tries to shake it off, tries to remember what had happened before he fell asleep. 

Maya should be here. 

He doesn’t immediately see or hear her. The take out containers are gone too. Noah pulls the blanket she had draped over him up a little higher. He tries to listen for her in the silence of their home. 

Nothing. 

Noah turns over onto his back. 

He stares up at the ceiling for a long while. 

It’s a dream, he tells himself, Nothing more.

Eventually, Noah pushes himself off the sofa. 

His body feels so awfully heavy. The clock on his phone reveals that it’s only been forty-five minutes. He could have sworn that he slept through the night. Although he knows that Maya would never let him sleep on the couch like that. 

Noah decides to go looking for her. She can’t have gone far, not this late in the day. There’s no sign of her in the kitchen or their bedroom. He briefly checks the bathroom too, only to find it empty as well. Which leaves him with one more option. 

The door to her studio is ajar, and he suddenly feels a little foolish for having missed it when he passed by it just a few minutes ago. 

Just for a moment, he allows himself to watch her. The pink of her hair is starting to fade again, and he wonders what colour she’ll dye it next. Since he’s known her, her hair has been about every colour of the rainbow. The pink has been the most permanent colour so far. He likes it on her, it suits her. Noah’s sure that she could show up in the most plain and unexciting thing possible and would still have all eyes on her. Maya has a draw to her – one that he’d experienced first hand. 

Noah slips into the room. Maya doesn’t immediately notice him and continues to do whatever she’s been doing. As he comes closer, Noah sees that she’s looking through a stack of photos. He wraps himself around her, and Maya jumps a little in surprise. 

He rests his chin on her shoulder to see exactly what she’s looking at. 

“I got the last film back.” she explains. 

She pauses on a picture of the Nicks. Folio’s grimace makes both of them laugh. Maya continues to cycle through the photos. She slows when she reaches the ones she took of him the week prior. Almost instantly, Noah’s chest tightens. 

Getting a visual refresher of that day brings that unsettling feeling back. He’d tried to push it so far back into his mind, but now that he’s faced with himself again, it slowly crawls back up his spine. 

“Noah?” Maya’s voice seeps into his brain, “Noah – you’re squeezing me.” 

The edge of panic in her voice snaps him out of it. He hadn’t even realised how tight his hold on her had become. 

“I’m sorry – I completely zoned out.” Noah sputters out quickly. 

“Everything okay, baby?” Maya wriggles out of his hold, turning around so that she can look at him, “You know you can tell me everything, right? If something’s up, please don’t lock me out again.” 

He wishes that he could. But how can he talk about this when he doesn’t even know what to call the thing that is bothering him? Noah knows that Maya won’t dig for an answer, they both know that it’ll only make him close up more. And he knows what she’s trying to do with this, he knows that she’s trying to get him to open up a little further, but it feels so awfully impossible. 

When they go to bed that night, Noah lies awake for what feels like hours. When he checks the clock on his phone again, he once more finds out that it’s barely been over an hour. His mind is racing at a thousand miles an hour, unable to settle on anything for long. Eventually, Noah drags himself out of bed. Phone clutched in his hand, he tip-toes to the living room again. If he can’t fall asleep, he might as well keep himself occupied. 

He sinks onto the sofa, the blanket still draped over the arm where he’d left it just a little bit earlier. For a while, he scrolls mindlessly through different feeds. Noah lets himself be dragged into the endless stream – whatever will take his mind away from this. Noah really doesn’t know where this is going to take him. He’s been sleeping so poorly recently, and maybe it’s good that this is happening now that he’s at home and doesn’t have to stick to a strict schedule. Noah doesn’t want to think about how awful this would be if they were on tour. 

Maybe it’s morbid curiosity that leads him to type his somewhat clumsy question into Google. The first searches don’t really give any suitable answers. Noah can objectively say that he looked good with what Maya put on his face, that isn’t his issue, and he isn’t afraid to admit that either. 

The issue lies deeper. 

Appearance doesn’t match what I have in mind

His hands tremble an awful lot for a thing like this.

Noah taps on the first result.

Most of the answers talk about a thing called Body Dysmorphic Disorder. And while it ticks some of his boxes, he doesn’t think it’s the right thing yet. He doesn’t feel detached from himself either, so those options fly out of the window too. 

Surely, not – 

Noah taps out of the browser on his phone as soon as he reads the word gender. Whatever is wreaking havoc on his mind is not that. He digs his fingers into his thighs. 

The silence of the room is deafening. It rings in his ears. 

Noah knows what a panic attack feels like, and this one is barrelling towards him at full speed. 

His lungs haven’t felt this tight in years. 

It all circles back to this one image – one singular what if. 

The doubt creeps over him like sludge, sticky and viscous. 

Noah staggers into the kitchen, barely feeling stable enough to make the trek. He feels dizzy, disoriented. His vision is narrowed to a small pinpoint, and he knows that he’s bumping into all sorts of things on the way to the sink. He blindly pats around the counter until his fingers curl around the edge of the sink.

The cold water shocks him out of the state of blind panic he’s been in. His hands still shake uncontrollably, but at least he doesn’t feel as if he’s about to empty his stomach out in the next few moments. 

Noah slumps down in front of the counter. 

It can’t be that. 

He’s never questioned himself like that before. 

The light in the hallway flickers on, pulling his attention towards it. 

“Noah?” her voice rings through dimly lit space and finds its way into the centre of his chest. 

He can’t bring himself to reply. The words won’t come. 

He hears Maya’s bare feet on the wooden floors. 

She eventually finds him cowering in the middle of their kitchen. Maya comes to kneel in front of him, hands immediately finding the sides of his face. 

Her words rush right past his ears. Noah lets her wrap him up in her arms. He doesn’t know for how long they sit like this, but eventually, his mind returns to him. 

“Noah, honey.” she speaks softly, fingers still combing through his hair, “What’s going on?”

He swallows the lump in his throat. 

“It’s just a lot.” he says instead of the thousand other things he could say. 

It’s not really a lie, but he still feels impossibly bad. 

For the next five weeks, Noah finds himself spiralling further down this seemingly endless tunnel. For the most part, he sequesters himself to the second bedroom he uses as a studio. All under the guise of feeling so productive. In reality, he sits staring at the monitor for hours and maybe gets a fraction of the work he had planned done. 

There’s no rush to finish the album anyway. 

Who knows when or if they’ll be able to tour again. 

Everything feels as if it's collapsing around him. Every time he thinks that he’s ready to tell Maya that he’s digging himself deeper and deeper into this crisis, Noah feels himself shrinking back into his shell. 

And so he sits in silence, listening to the tormenting thoughts that course through his mind. It’s almost as if they’re taunting him. 

Noah hasn’t dared to look further into the possibilities of what this could be. That one shock of reading  gender and dysphoria had been enough for him. It’s not that he doesn’t agree with that, people can and should do whatever they want with their bodies. 

But he? 

Noah has never questioned his identity like that, he’s never looked at himself and thought what if? And now it’s all he can think about. 

What if he isn’t what he thought he was?

Sure, he’s had moments of insecurity. 

One or the other high school bully had thrown the odd you dress like a girl at him, but that had never really worried him. Before that day, Noah had never looked at himself and felt this disconnect. 

In a desperate attempt to end this day of self-flagellation, Noah finds his way into the bathroom. Maya had once told him that a bath could fix most of her problems, and at this point he’s willing to try everything. 

Running himself a bath like this in the middle of the day does feel a little odd, but he’s done stranger things in recent weeks. 

The hot water does help to ease the ache from his bones. If this does nothing else, he’ll at least feel a little less tense. 

Noah lets himself sink into the water and suds. 

His world is crumbling around him, and he doesn’t know how to stop it. Then again, Noah doesn’t even know if he can or should stop this. 

It’s an odd thing. 

Because when he lets himself glimpse past the denial, something about this feels right. When he lets himself consider it clearly and without judgement, he knows that what he saw in the mirror, the made up feminine face, looked so deeply familiar. 

A long-lost friend.  

In the sanctity and security of this space, Noah lets himself consider this. He lets himself sink under the water. 

What’s the worst that could come of this?

There are the consequences this would have for himself. If he lets himself explore this, he’ll have to deal with a plethora of questions that he doesn’t even know about yet. Deep down, he knows that Maya will be with him no matter what. She won’t judge him for this questioning, they’ve talked plenty about her explorations with sexuality. 

The band is a different thing entirely. He’s sure that none of them will treat him differently, but the fear is still there. There’s no real knowing. 

He doesn’t even want to think about their audience. That’s a bridge he won’t even think about until it comes into view. 

A knock on the door and the call of his name draw Noah out of his thoughts. 

“Honey, are you in there?” Maya’s voice is laced with concern. 

“Yes.” he answers quietly. 

“Can I come in?” 

When he doesn’t answer immediately, she cracks open the door just a little, “Noah?” 

He musters all of his strength to answer, “Come in.” 

Maya slips into the room, the worry on her face breaks his heart a little. 

“I was looking for you all over the place.” she says, as she sits on the edge of the tub, “Everything okay?” 

She reaches for the hand that is nearest to her, carefully tangling their fingers together. 

For a moment, Noah thinks that he should tell her.

In the end, he gives another vague everything is bad, and I don’t know what to do answer. He doesn’t know if Maya actually buys it, but she doesn’t press him further. 

“Do you want to be alone or do you want me to stay here?” she asks eventually. 

“Can you stay?” Noah asks, despite her offering to do so. 

With a little more hot water added to the tub, Maya slips into the tub behind him. Noah lets the mess in his brain float away from him, when he rests his body against hers. Her arms curl around his middle, hands splayed out across his tummy. They sit like this for a while, silence wrapped around them. It’s comfortable, and Noah thinks that maybe he shouldn’t isolate himself as much. 

His breath hitches when her hand drifts a little lower. 

“Is this okay?” Maya sounds so careful and hesitant. 

Intimacy has been tricky.

The anxiety that has settled in his body has made him so tired that he falls asleep before Maya. It’s not that he hasn’t wanted this, and he knows that he’s been neglecting her quite a bit. 

The tips of her fingers skate across his hip, and that breaks his resolve. 

“Please, baby.” he sighs out shakily. 

Noah’s eyes fall shut when Maya wraps her hand around him. He lets himself get lost in the slow movements of her hand. 

She always treats him so well. 

Her lips follow the curve of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake. Noah sighs when she reaches that one extra sensitive spot on his neck. 

“I missed you.” Maya sounds almost mournful when she speaks, “You’ve been so far away from me.” 

The words burn in his chest. 

He knows it’s true. 

Noah let himself drift away from her, he allowed them to become distant like this. He doesn’t know if he has it in him to tell her about this yet, but he can’t lose her. 

Consciously, this time, he brings himself back to the present moment – to Maya. 

It takes Noah a moment to catch up, and he feels his breath catch in his throat when he really allows himself to feel all of this. His head drops back against her shoulder as she continues to work him towards his climax. He knows that she enjoys this just as much as he does. Noah doesn’t hold back on his moans, not that he has much choice with how good her hand feels on him. 

“Please don’t stop.” He sighs out between laboured breaths. 

Her name is a prayer on his lips. 

The only thing that circles in his mind is her, the way she makes him feel, the way she feels behind him. Noah allows the feeling to swallow him entirely. It drowns out the anxiety, the fear, and instead gives him a soft warmth. The comfort he has been missing slowly creeps back into his body. 

Maya doesn’t let him get back to work after that. He’s glad that she insists that he needs a break — he wouldn’t have allowed himself one. 

Noah lets her pull him into their bedroom, into their bed. For the first time in weeks, he allows himself comfort, a brief respite from the cold he has let himself fall into. 

He doesn’t really register what they watch, and it doesn’t matter that much, either. Maya is curled up in front of him, her back warm against his chest. He buries his face in the side of her neck, lets the soft scent of her shampoo and perfume fill his senses. 

Noah knows that he needs to tell her.

She deserves to know, she deserves to make a decision of her own. 

He almost tells her in that moment. 

But Maya falls asleep before he does, and he shelves the plan just for a while longer. 

He will tell her. 

Noah doesn’t tell her for another few weeks. 

Instead, he crawls back into the dark – willingly this time. 

The more he looks into this thing, the more it darkens his mood. He’d hoped that understanding this would let him open himself to Maya again, but instead they’re just quietly drifting away from each other. 

The thing hangs over them like an oppressive shadow, and he can feel her slipping away. 

Maya is out of bed before he gets up on most mornings. She stays in her studio and only steps out for lunch and dinner. Noah thinks that she looks awfully tired. 

He knows what the right thing is, he knows how he could make this stop, and yet – he feels immobilised by the fear that still clings to him. 

Lately, he’s been pulling away more and more from his friends, too. The last message Nick has sent him has gone unanswered for a few days now. He can’t bring himself to type out whatever lame excuse flits through his mind at that moment. He can’t lie to Nick too. He’s already lying to the most important person in his life. 

Noah knows that he’s letting both of them down with this, and still, the words remain unspoken. 

It’s nearing midnight when he crawls out of bed again. Maya is asleep next to him, but he can tell that she isn’t sleeping well. 

Neither of them has in recent weeks. 

He slips out of their bedroom as quietly as he can and hides himself away in his studio. 

Almost as if pre-programmed, Noah finds his way back to the forums he’s been studying. He’s been reading up on experiences, trying to piece together what this feeling means for him. He knows that this isn’t a black and white thing. It’s awfully complicated and – 

He just manages to slam his phone onto the table when the door flies open. 

“We’re either going to talk this out now or I’m going to Ellie’s for a bit. I cannot deal with you sneaking out of bed every fucking night.” she doesn’t sound angry, and Noah doesn’t need to look up to know that she’s been crying. 

The thought of Maya quietly crying to herself breaks his heart even further. 

“I feel like you’re – drifting away from me, Noah. I don’t know what’s happening. If you – if you don’t want this any more, that’s okay, but please have the decency to tell me and don’t string me along like this.” 

The words hit him like a wall of bricks. 

He knows that he’s been horrible, not just as a partner but as a friend too. But hearing how truly painful his actions – or rather lack thereof – have been feels like the final nail in his coffin. 

“Maya I’m –”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. Just tell me what is going on, please.” 

Even from this distance he can see the furrow in her brow, the quivering of her lip. One hand grips the other so tightly. He only notices now, that she has pulled one of his sweatshirts over her body. 

Noah draws in a deep breath, “I – I don’t know how to explain it really. I have to apologise, though – I need to. You didn’t deserve this.”

Maya slowly comes closer to him, still so very hesitant. 

“Do you remember when you put make-up on me that one day?” she nods, “I don’t know – something about seeing myself like that fucked with my head a little.” 

The concern on her face becomes even more evident then, “How so? I don’t know if I understand.” 

Noah rubs a hand across his face. He can barely stop his knee from bouncing now. The nerves bite at him, gnaw at his resolve. He swallows down the beginnings of tears. 

“It – made me feel – fuck, this is already difficult to make sense of in my head – seeing myself like that felt like I was seeing myself for the first time. I don’t know – I still don’t know what that means for me. I’ve been trying to figure it out and in doing so, I’ve let this happen, and I’m so fucking sorry.” 

Noah can’t stop the tears then. 

A moment passes before he feels hands grasping his. The warmth doesn’t quite reach him yet. 

“Why haven’t you talked to me, Noah?” 

A sob breaks from him, “I wanted to.” 

He feels her forehead dropping against his knees. 

Damp stains his skin. 

Maya kneels at his feet, barely clinging on to his form. There’s something so devastating about that sight. Hearing her quiet sniffles breaks his heart just a little more. Every shake of her shoulders drives the thorn further into his chest. 

He can’t tell how much time passes until she looks up at him again. Her cheeks are red and splotchy, skin stained with tears. 

“I’m sorry that you felt as if you couldn’t talk to me about this. I – feel like I’ve let you down.” she says quietly, “I’m so sorry.” He watches helplessly as rises to her feet once again. 

“You didn’t – I made myself believe that I couldn’t talk to you.” He doesn't know if his words actually help, he hopes that they do, “You’ve always been there for me. This just – I could barely wrap my head around it. And when I figured out what I was even feeling, it fucked with me so much.” 

“I think I need a moment to think and sort my head out. Can we – we should finish this in the morning? It’s late.” 

Noah thinks that he hears a sliver of regret in her voice. It’s hidden behind the obvious pain that colours her features. Knowing that he caused this pain makes his chest tighten up again. 

He nods, fully knowing that nothing he has to say right now will change this. 

Noah doesn’t question when Maya doesn’t follow him into their bedroom. The sting of it still stays with him when he crawls back under the duvet. He can’t shake the look on her face from his mind. 

He’s never seen Maya look this hurt. 

Noah hates that it has taken him this long to realise that he cannot let things go on like he has. They both deserve better than this. He won’t let himself sit in this silence, and he won’t let her suffer at his hands any more. 

Tomorrow he’ll put his cards on the table, no matter how terrifying it is. It’s not just about being honest to her any more, it's about being honest to himself. 

He lasts maybe thirty minutes on his own, before he finds his way back into the living room. He finds Maya cradling a cup of tea in her hands. The skin below her eyes is still damp with tears. 

Silently, he holds his hand out to her. 

Maya hesitates for just a moment, before she sets her cup down on the coffee table. As soon as her hand is in his, he pulls her in. Maya wraps herself around him, face buried against his chest. Her hold on him should feel suffocating, but in this moment it’s exactly what he needs. 

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but we’ll figure this out. I’m here for you no matter what, okay?” 

Noah has to choke back a new wave of tears. 

“I know.” 

“I love you and nothing will change that.” her words sink into his chest. 

It’s been too long since he heard her say it – or said it himself. 

“Promise?” Her arms tighten around him just a little bit more, “I promise, Noah.” 

“I love you too.” he says finally, and he feels Maya relax a little against him, “Let’s go back to bed, okay?”

He wakes with Maya still wrapped around him. 

Her hand is warm on his chest, and for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t wake up with an ache in his jaw. 

The morning continues slow. 

He exits the bathroom to the sight of Maya getting the rest of their breakfast ready. They eat outside in their little garden, the silence is for once comfortable. 

The weight on his shoulders feels a little bit lighter. 

But the prospect of the conversation they still have to hold still lingers over him. Noah can’t deny that it terrifies him. Knowing that he’ll have to voice this thing out loud shakes him to the core. He still isn’t sure how he’s supposed to put all of this into words. 

He feels a hand on top of his. 

“Noah?” she asks softly, “You’re getting awfully quiet again.” 

Might as well rip off the band-aid now. 

“I don’t really know how to say this. I’m still trying to figure out what this means for me. I never really questioned how I see myself before that day. And seeing myself like that, it – scared me a lot. It still does to be honest.”

“When you say question – just so we’re both on the same page – what do you mean?”

He draws in a shaky breath, “I don’t know if guy is the right way to describe myself. I don’t know what the right thing is, but I know that it’s not that.” 

Noah doesn’t dare to open his eyes. 

Her hand squeezes his. 

“Noah, honey.” Maya says softly, “Can you look at me?” 

He forces his eyes open and slowly turns to look at her. 

“This is okay. It’s okay that you’re questioning this. And I wish that I could have been there for you.” she looks at him with so much genuine honesty, “Whatever you decide doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

He whispers a quiet thank-you. 

“What do you need from me right now? How can I help?” 

“Just be you. I think I need that constant.” Noah feels a little silly saying it, putting it like that, but the comfort of her is exactly what he needs. 

“I can do that.” Maya says with a nod, “But Noah, please talk to me. Don’t shut me out like that. I don’t want you to be alone with this.” 

He squeezes her hand in response, “I’m sorry for how I treated you these last few weeks. That wasn’t fair, and I’m very sorry.” 

“It’s okay. We just won’t let it get that far again. Promise me that.” 

He gives a nod in reply, “Promise.” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I know you will.” 

Maya pulls him in for a kiss, “Good. Let’s get this inside. I still have to finish the piece I’m working on.” 

“What are you working on anyway?” 

For a moment, everything feels normal. They’re cleaning up the remnants of their shared breakfast, talking about what they’re working on. Noah has missed hearing about her work. He loves the pretty animated look she gets when she talks about her current project. 

“I thought we could go for a little drive? Get out of the house for a little bit, maybe get something to snack on?” Maya proposes as she hops up on the counter, “What do you think?”

Noah comes to stand in front of her, hands naturally finding their way to the tops of her thighs, “Think that would be nice. I’m getting kinda sick of being inside all the time.” 

Maya drapes her arms over his shoulder, fingers lacing together behind his neck, “Tell me about it. Getting out of the house for a little bit will be good for us.” 

An hour later, Noah pulls out of their spot on the side of the street. In the corner of his vision, he can see Maya scrolling through her phone, most likely trying to decide which playlist she wants to put on. 

She eventually settles on her go-to, and the familiar intro of some Arctic Monkeys song warbles through the speakers. 

They drive for maybe ten minutes before Maya speaks up again.

“Please tell me if I’m touching on something you’re not ready to talk about. But I have a few questions, if that’s okay?” She sounds so hesitant, carefully dancing around the topic. 

Maybe if he’d done this all differently, things would feel so stilted now. 

“Sure. I don’t know if I can answer them, though. It’s all — I don’t know if I really know what this all means for me, you know?”

“Was it really the makeup that set this all off?” 

He nods, “I think seeing myself like that dug something up that I managed to hide so well that I didn’t even know about it.” 

“You never questioned it before that day?”

“Not that I can remember.” Noah replies, he’s thought about it often enough in the last few weeks to at least be sure of this. 

He tries his best to answer the questions Maya throws at him. Many of them still feel unclear to him. But openly talking about it for the first time helps – maybe if he’d felt a little bit braver, this would have been so much easier. He’s always found solace in her, and maybe he should have known that speaking to someone about this would help. 

They end up in a car park overlooking the ocean. It’s quiet – everything is at the moment. But for once, his mind is also quiet. They sit on a low wall, quietly talking for a little while longer. Noah lets his head drop to her shoulder, as they watch the slow ebb and flow of the water before them. 

Maya’s hand is warm on his thigh, it rests high on his leg in that comforting way. She does it when they’re out together and the clutch of anxiety is wrought tightly around him. Once in a while, he feels her fingers pulse against the inside of his thigh, like a friendly reminder that she’s still beside him. 

“I got everything for flatbread pizzas when I ordered groceries yesterday. Before you ask, I got the nice tomatoes.” 

For the first time in weeks, Noah hears himself genuinely laugh out loud. 

Getting out of the house for a while, even if it’s just to sit and talk, makes his chest feel a little less tight. The anxiety is still there, but it’s not quite as strangling any more. 

“Come with me for a minute, will you?” Maya asks when she unlocks their front door.

Naturally, Noah follows her into her studio. 

He hasn’t been into her space in weeks. The familiar scent of her paints and inks filters into his senses. Noah wonders what she’s been working on. 

The easel is still covered by an old duvet cover. He remembers it from Maya’s old apartment, the little one bedroom with the leaking faucet in the kitchen that would drive them absolutely insane at night. 

“It’s a little funny – I didn’t know what that moment did for you. I just thought that you looked so –” she gesticulates trying to find the right word before settling on something, “Beautiful. I had to do something with it.” 

She steps away from the easel, motioning for him to remove the cover. 

Noah doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so nervous. Maya has shown him plenty of her work before, but something about this feels different. 

His hands tremble a little when he reaches for the fabric. He’s learnt the hard way that he can’t just yank it off. Noah lifts the duvet over off the canvas, gathering it up in his hands. 

What he sees on the canvas makes his breath catch in his throat. 

The inspiration is clearly visible, but Maya’s mark is what makes it truly special. He can recognise himself, the way he looked that day, but there’s something otherworldly about the way Maya has portrayed him. He’s never understood how she makes her work look as if it’s shiny like this. 

Once again, Noah is transfixed by his own appearance. 

His eyes race across the canvas, unable to find a point to focus on. There’s something soft and — feminine to it. His heart thumps in his chest. 

Noah feels Maya coming up next to him. Her hand wraps around his, as she presses up next to him. 

“What do you think?” she asks quietly, and Noah doesn’t miss the hint of insecurity in her voice. 

“That’s how you saw it?” 

He sees her nod in the corner of his vision. 

“I don’t know what to say. This – this is amazing. Thank you, my love.”

Maya pulls their joined hands up, pressing a kiss to the back of his, “Of course. I’ll do whatever I can to help you with this. Doesn’t matter what it is.”

It takes him a few more days to build up the courage to ask her again. Last time, Maya had been the one who brought it up, but Noah knows that he’ll have to ask for it. She had said that she’d help him with whatever, and he knows that Maya will not judge him for it. She’s made that very clear. Noah repeats the words in his head like a mantra, trying to cement them there.

Things had normalised somewhat in the last few days. They’d had a few more very honest conversations, tears had been shed, but at the end of the day, one thing became clear. Actually, speaking about this was more helpful than it was scary. Maya had offered him some much-needed perspective and comfort, and all things considered, things weren’t looking too bad. 

With this new-found confidence, Noah pushes his way into the bathroom, where Maya is still going through her morning routine. He wraps his arms around her middle, placing his chin on top of her shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, finding her eyes in the mirror. 

She meets his glance, giving him a soft smile.

“You wanna try?” she asks. 

Noah gives a hesitant nod. 

“Let me finish up, and then I’ll walk you through it.” 

He stays, watching her move through the surprisingly intricate routine. Eventually, Maya hops up onto the counter, urging Noah to come closer. He steps between her thighs, placing his hands on top of hers. 

“Step one.” Maya picks up her face wash, holding it out to him, “Don’t think I have to explain this bit to you.” 

She walks him through the steps, patiently explaining what each product does. Her little tinctures and creams leave the skin of his face feeling as soft as ever before. 

Maya picks up the tube of sunscreen, squirting some of it onto her fingers. She dabs it all over his face, placing the final dot onto the tip of his nose with a giggle. 

“I know we’re inside a lot at the moment, but you have to wear sunscreen.” There's still humour in her words, but he knows that she’s serious, “I can’t believe that Nick hasn’t gotten on your ass about it yet. With how many tattoos you have, I would have expected that someone would have told you that you need sunscreen at some point.”

He spreads it across his skin, occasionally​​ checking the mirror behind Maya. 

“What now?” he asks finally. 

“All done.” 

He hesitates for a long moment, eyes flitting between his reflection and Maya. 

“Do you – if you have the time – could you do my make-up again?” Noah asks quietly. 

Maya breaks into a smile, “Sure. I could also just show you how to do it yourself?” 

Once again, Noah finds himself sitting in front of her vanity. The items on the table in front of him seem endlessly confusing. Despite how much time he has spent watching Maya do this, he feels so very clueless right now. But Maya is patient and slowly walks him through it this time. 

It’s by no means perfect, but the routine Maya proposes is simple enough for him to recreate on his own. 

And at the end of it, Noah finds himself once again faced with this version of himself. It’s a little different from the last time, but he still finds comfort in what he sees. 

Maya drops her head to his shoulder, looking at him in her mirror. 

“I stand by what I said, you look so beautiful like this.” Her voice is so soft. 

Noah can barely contain the smirk that forces its way onto his face, “And not without it?” 

She smacks his thigh, “Beautiful either way.”

“I’m still not sure about what this all means for me, but – I think I want to try they.” his voice wavers just a little towards the end. 

“In addition to he?” Maya asks then. 

Noah nods, “Just he doesn’t feel like it’s – enough?”

Maya gives a squeeze to their thigh. It’s comforting, reassuring. 

“I’m glad that you’re allowing yourself to explore this, love. It’s a big thing, but I’m so proud of you for letting yourself do this.” The genuine warmth in her voice wraps around his mind like a warm blanket. 

Noah turns as best as he can with how they’re positioned. They press a kiss to Maya’s temple, lingering there for just a moment. 

“Thank you. Really.” Noah whispers. 

The moment feels too tender for anything else. 

Noah lets himself sit in the feeling for a while. They feel Maya’s eyes on their face, quietly observing – admiring, perhaps. 

Maya lifts her head, forcing Noah to do the same. She shifts, now sitting sideways on the little bench. 

“Look at me, will you?” 

She gently guides him towards her, hand soft on his cheek. 

“I love you so much.” her thumb drifts across their cheek, “Don’t forget that.” 

“I love you too.”   

She pulls them in for a kiss. A soft little thing that makes them feel so very loved. Noah drops his forehead to hers when they part. 

Having her at his side for this will make it so much better. 

Somehow, Noah hadn’t thought that things would be so normal. They’d expected that everything would feel just a little different, but in reality, life just goes on. But then again, things are still very far from being normal. 

He’s actually managed to get some real work done. 

His shoulders feel a little bit lighter now that he’s not bearing this alone any more. 

They’ve adapted a version of Maya’s skincare routine for themself. Maya has helped him find things that work even better than her products do. He’s dipped his fingers into Maya’s makeup, too, trying to get a feel for it. Noah thinks that they’re starting to get the hang of it. 

Fingers tap on his shoulder, making him jump. 

Maya looks at him expectantly. 

“Something up?”

“I love that you’re doing this, but you’ve used up some pretty expensive products. I think it’s time that we’ll get you your own stuff.” 

Noah finds a smile on her face, despite the stern words. 

“I didn’t even realise.” Noah replies feebly, “I’m sorry.” She squeezes their shoulder, “I’m not mad. But having your own things might be nice for you, too.” 

“Can we do that online?” 

Noah doesn’t know if he’s quite ready to do this in public yet. Maya seems to pick up on his hesitance, though, and nods quickly. 

“Of course.” she presses a kiss to their cheek, “Why don’t you wrap this up so that Jolly can stop badgering me about when you’re going to send him that demo, and then we can do a little shopping?” 

He joins her in the living room a good thirty minutes later. Maya has already pulled up a variety of sites on her laptop when they sit down next to her. It takes Noah a moment to really feel comfortable picking something out, but with a little bit of nudging from Maya, they end up making increasingly braver choices. 

Noah picks out some things that he knows from Maya, others he selects just because they look interesting. If he’s experimenting with things, he might as well do it properly. 

By the end of their little digital shopping trip, the cart is filled with all sorts of things. Everything from the basic things to a variety of highlighters, glitters, and things Noah doesn't even know the name of. There are doubles of some items, things that Maya had found interesting, too. He doesn’t want to think about the total, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter that much. Having this additional thing that they can share feels good. 

There’s something intimate about this. 

Noah has never been good at letting his walls down, and this whole experience has been a struggle from the start. But they’re glad that they have the option to do this in a moment like this. They’re safe in their home with the person they love. There’s not much more they could ask for. 

Noah lets his head drop to her shoulder. 

With the laptop forgotten on the coffee table, Maya quickly finds her way into Noah’s lap. Her lips trail up the side of their neck. Their hands rest on Maya’s waist, slowly skating upwards under her shirt. 

It feels like it’s been ages since they’ve been together like this. It’s been a few weeks since Maya had gotten them off in the bathtub. But since then, so much has changed. 

Maya kisses her way along Noah’s jaw, before she finally brings her lips to theirs. 

One of her hands rests against the side of their face, while the other threads into the hair at the back of their neck. 

Maya grinds down against them, and Noah can’t hold back the whine that bubbles up in their throat. Her body is so soft under their hands, and they want nothing more than to give themself to her. Noah wants to melt into her touch, fall apart at her hands. The warmth that radiates off her body seeps into his. 

Maya moans against their lips when Noah pulls her closer. 

They feel Maya bringing a hand between their bodies. Noah knows what her destination is, they know where she is headed. And when her hand presses against their crotch, it’s as if a switch is flipped in their head. 

Cold fear washes over their body. 

Noah rears his head back, trying to draw much needed air into his lungs. It takes Maya a moment to catch up, but as soon as she does, her hands leave their body, and she moves back just enough. 

“I can’t.” Noah says quietly, shame slowly creeping up his back.

He doesn’t quite know where this sudden fear is coming from, but he can’t bear the thought of being touched like this right now. Noah feels his hands trembling against her skin and quickly pulls them away. 

Maya remains where she is, quietly watching them for a moment. 

“Baby it’s okay.” she says after a long while, “We don’t have to do anything. If you don’t feel comfortable with this at the moment, that’s okay.”

Noah runs a clammy hand across his face. This is not how he’d wanted this to go. The panic spiral is slippery, and trying to keep himself from sliding is turning out to be quite tricky. 

“Noah.” Maya’s voice barely manages to break through the fog in his brain, “Honey, can you look at me for a moment?” 

Noah draws in a shaky breath before they look up and at her. 

“It’s okay. I understand that things are difficult right now. I should have asked if you’re okay with me touching you, and I’m sorry that I didn’t.” Maya says softly. 

Noah drops his head for a moment. This whole thing makes everything so much more complicated. 

“I didn’t think that I’d react like that, either.” Noah shoots back quickly, “I don’t want you to feel bad. This is not because of you. It’s – just there’s this disconnect, you know?”

Maya looks at him with that same worried expression he’s been faced with more times than he dares to count in recent weeks. 

“It feels a little as if what’s in my head doesn’t really match up with this any more.” They gesture towards themself, “It’s good most of the time, but just now it felt like everything is wrong.” 

Maya wraps herself around them. 

She doesn’t have to say a word for Noah to know what she feels. It’s comfort in its purest form. An unspoken I may not understand entirely, but I’m here. 

She’s warm and soft, and Noah feels terrible for neglecting her like this. They can’t imagine that any of this is easy for her, too. 

They stay like this for a long while, eventually moving over into the bedroom to watch a few episodes of a show they’d started a while ago. Noah lets themself sink into Maya’s embrace, allowing the worries on their mind to drift away for just a moment. 

Some things will never change – Noah hates doing laundry. It’s tedious, it’s annoying, but they’d agreed to split chores when this lockdown started, and they’re not about to let Maya down. 

They drop the freshly tumble-dried garments into the basket before picking it up. He’ll fold everything as he’s putting it away. 

Things have settled a little bit more. 

Another evening of research, this time with moral support from Maya, had revealed that the thing they’d experienced a few days earlier had, in fact, been a bout of gender dysphoria. It had rattled them a little bit more than they’d liked to admit, but Maya had assured them that they’d be able to manoeuvre this together. 

They’re inclined to believe her. 

And really it made sense.

Throughout all of this, Noah has felt as if something didn’t match up. And if they’re honest with themself, they’ve known what it is since that first day. 

Coming to terms with it is a different thing. 

Maya hadn’t said anything about it, but they’re sure that she knows by now. Noah’s glad that she’s allowing them to do this on their own terms. They’re still not sure where this’ll take them, but one thing’s for sure they’re not going back where they’ve been before. 

Noah plucks one of Maya’s skirts from the laundry basket. 

It’s the one they love seeing on her. A pretty little thing that they’ve shoved their hand under on more than one occasion. 

An idea springs into their head then. 

Trying it on can’t hurt. 

And if they’re already exploring make-up, why not expand to clothing too. 

Their hands tremble when they hold the skirt out in front of their body. It should fit, the fabric is just elastic enough. Noah pushes their sweats down. It takes them a few moments to build up the courage to pull the skirt up and over their waist. 

Their eyes remain low, unable to look at their reflection. 

Noah draws in a deep breath. 

Their chest fills with an odd warmth. 

The hem of the skirt hits just above the middle of their thighs. 

They can’t stop looking. 

Noah pulls their shirt up, pulling it back so that it fits a little tighter around where the waistband of the skirt sits, in an attempt to emulate how Maya would wear it. 

Their heart pounds so incredibly fast.

The shape of their body still feels too boxy, too much like guy, but something about this itches a very specific spot in their brain. 

Their hands drift across their body, trying to imagine a softer, less angular shape. It feels good. 

Another thought pops into their head then. 

They open Maya’s side of the closet. 

Maya won’t judge them for this. She’s said multiple times that she’ll support whatever they need. 

For the first time, they allow their fingers to pass over the pretty dresses Maya wears with the intention of picking something for themself. 

They don’t want to risk stretching out any of her clothes. Maya has a few more loose fitting dresses, one of those will be just fine. 

They pluck a little black number from the rail. They know what it looks like on Maya. The deep v neckline looks gorgeous on Maya, and suddenly Noah has to know what it will look like on their body. 

Their hands don’t shake as much any more when they unzip the skirt and take off their shirt. Slipping the garment over their head is so easy. And they’re not as scared of looking at themself this time around. 

The sleeves are a little too short on them, and it all feels a little uncomfortable at first, but Noah is willing to blame that on them not being used to dresses. 

The fabric feels good on their body. It’s soft and light and the longer they look at their reflection, the more they get used to it. 

Pulling their hair up with the claw clip they’d borrowed from Maya a while ago settles the nerves in their belly even more. For a moment, Noah considers the additional box of make-up that now sits on Maya’s vanity, and eventually decides that just a little bit will be enough. Their hand rifles through the box until they pluck a tube of lightly tinted lip gloss from it. 

Noah feels quite secure with this by now. Applying the gloss is no issue at all. The colour is fairly sheer, and they don’t have to be super precise with it. 

When Noah steps back in front of the mirror, their breath catches in their throat. It feels as if things have clicked into place. Their eyes flicker across their reflection. 

When seeing themself in make-up felt good, this feels – euphoric. 

The small edge of panic that tries to make itself known is drowned out by how good it feels to see themself like this.  

Noah curses themself for forgetting their phone in the living room.

They can always recreate this moment. 

Noah takes a few more moments like this, finishing the laundry they have to fold while still wearing the dress. 

Taking it off again feels a little sad. It’s not like Maya would be judgemental of it, but they don’t feel quite ready to share this yet. 

Maya will understand. 

With everything returned to normal, Noah quickly wipes the gloss from their lips. When they return to the bedroom, they find the door just slightly ajar. Noah is sure that they’ve closed the door before they had tried on the skirt. 

Maybe they had left it open after all. 

Noah finds Maya in the kitchen, working on their lunch. They wrap their arms around her middle, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

“What are you making?” 

Maya leans back against them, and Noah can’t stop themself from pressing another kiss to her cheek. 

“Pasta. With all of the leftover veggies we still have. The cheese will save it.” she replies, letting herself sink further against Noah. 

If she saw something, Maya doesn’t let it on.

“Do you want to get ice cream later?” they ask, now fully resting their cheek against Maya’s. 

“Would love that.”

It was a slow realisation. 

Noah doesn’t exactly know when it clicked. They had long realised that he was not only insufficient to describe themself but also plain wrong. They’d tried to look at themself in the mirror and think of it, only to feel a little nauseated. 

It had started to bleed into other spaces too. Hearing Nick call them dude made them cringe, but they bit through it, not feeling quite ready to share this with someone else yet. 

Noah is sure that Nick wouldn’t have a problem with this, but there’s still that lingering fear. They’ve read too many reports on best friends turning on people after any kind of coming out. And there’s simply too much at stake here. 

Noah wants to be absolutely sure of this before he tells anyone else. The first step to that is talking to Maya.

They splash another handful of ice-cold water into their face, in the hope that it’ll ease their nerves at least a little. 

The realisation had really hit them this morning. 

They don’t know what exactly triggered it, but somewhere between washing their face and brushing their teeth, things had started to make sense. 

Noah looks up at the mirror. 

Their fingers drift across their freshly shaved cheeks. Noah’s been keeping up with it a lot more. They have never had a lot of facial hair, but keeping their face smooth eased some of the ache in their chest. 

It’s still a little difficult to see anything but guy when they look in the mirror. On some days, it's easier for Noah to imagine their features a little softer, more feminine. Today is, thankfully, one of those days. 

They’ve managed to shed their fear of the word feminine, slowly realising that maybe it was a more accurate way to describe how they feel about themself. 

Noah swallows a breath. 

The thought reverberates around their brain. 

What if? 

Noah thinks about the moments that have made them feel most comfortable in recent weeks. They think back to the afternoon when they tried on one of Maya’s dresses. It stands in such a stark contrast to the times when they have to put on this masculine facade.

There really isn’t a lot to debate here any more. 

Noah goes to find Maya. 

She has to be the first one to hear about this. 

They find her working on a small illustration in her studio. 

They’ve been talking about the new album they’ve started to work on. Progress is slow, but it is progress. And Noah’s enthusiasm for the concept seems to have coloured off on her too. Noah has a few of her sketches taped to the wall behind their monitor. 

Noah knocks on the frame of the open door. 

Maya looks up at them with a soft smile, “Hi baby.” 

“You got a moment for me?” They hope that they don’t sound as nervous as they feel. 

She pushes away from her desk, pulling the second chair towards her. 

“For you, always.” 

Noah sits, wringing their hands together in their lap. 

“Everything okay?” Maya reaches out to place her hand over theirs. 

This feels like an awfully daunting thing.

In a way it is, even though they know that Maya will be with them. 

Noah nods, “I think I have to drop the he.” they choke the words out before they manage to get caught in their throat. 

Maya blinks at them for a moment, before she nods. 

For a brief second, Noah thinks that she isn’t impressed, but then her lips twist into a smile. 

“Just they?” she asks curiously. 

Noah thinks. 

They know their answer. 

“Doesn’t feel like it’s enough, you know?” they reply. 

There’s a little bit of hesitance in Maya’s face. Her brow furrows, in that way it does when she’s trying to make up her mind about something.  

“I mean, there’s always she. You have been leaning towards more feminine things.” she says quietly. 

Noah’s heart thumps a little.  

They feel their lips beginning to tremble. 

It’s not panic – this is relief. 

Hearing her say it first makes it less scary. 

“I think I like that.” 

Noah presses her lips together. 

“I am so proud of you, baby.” Maya squeezes their hands, “And I love you so much.” 

“Promise?”

“I promise. Pinky promise.” she gives another squeeze, “And I’ll tell you as often as I have to.” 

Noah feels herself smile. 

It feels so new, but thinking of themself like this feels good – right. 

“Do you want to keep using they?” Maya asks then. 

She nods, “I like it. Both feels right.” 

Maya’s free hand finds its way to the side of Noah’s face. She carefully guides her closer, until they finally meet. It’s just a soft little thing, but it eases some of the weight from their shoulders. 

Maya scoots a little closer, her hand still covering Noah’s. Her gaze is soft and warm, and can practically feel the love seeping into her own skin. This whole thing is scary and exciting in equal measures, and while she’s sure that it will stay scary for a good while longer, she feels hopeful. 

The heavy weight of the last months doesn’t feel quite as heavy any more. There are still a few things that terrify them, but the biggest hurdle seems to be behind them. 

Noah can’t stop the tears then. 

Not a second after the first tear has fallen, Maya wraps herself around them. She holds Noah while they cry. The weight of his realisation still feels heavy, it’s still so daunting and new and overwhelming. 

It feels good to let all of it out. 

At some point, Maya moves them over into the living room. Noah doesn’t know or care how much time passes. All they know is that they feel a little bit lighter when they untangle themself from Maya.

“Feeling a little better?” Maya asks softly, tracing her fingers across Noah’s cheek.  

Noah nods, “Thank you for being – so understanding with all of this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

“Luckily, we don’t have to think about that.” Maya says with a smile, “I know this is a lot for you, and I’ll take whatever I can off your shoulders. And please tell me if I say something that doesn’t feel right for you.” 

Somehow, Noah had thought that everything would change now. And sure, things do feel a little different. But not in the way that Noah had thought. Maya doesn’t look at her differently, doesn’t treat her differently. Maybe she’s a little more affectionate at the moment, but Noah can’t complain about that. 

She loves waking up with Maya wrapped around her, loves feeling the kisses she presses against her skin when they’re still drowsy and barely roused from sleep. They’ve always been soft like this with each other. Maya has always showered them with so much affection and love. She’s always called her pretty, but now it scratches that spot in the back of Noah’s brain like little else does. 

“Have you thought about telling them yet?” Maya asks, carding her fingers through Noah’s hair. 

She looks up at Maya and finds nothing but that softness she’s grown to love so much. 

“I should probably do it sooner rather than later. Just in case, you know? I don’t think anyone’s going to be weird about it, but you can never know.”

“If someone is getting weird about it, they’re not worth your time or energy.” Maya says softly, “I’m sure it’ll be fine. I know it’s scary, though. Maybe you could start with Nick?”

“Can you stay with me when I call him?”

“Of course.” she taps her finger against the tip of Noah’s nose, “It’ll go fine, though. You know Nicky. He loves you.” 

Maybe that’s the scary thing about this. 

The dynamic between her and Nick never changed, they’ve grown up sure, but in their essence they’ve always been the same. Deep down, she knows that things with Nick will go fine, but she can’t deny the lingering fear. 

Noah decides to give herself the weekend to prepare. They’ll call Nick on Monday morning and just get it over with. 

As daunting as this is, they know that they’ll have to tell him eventually. The rest of the band needs to know at some point, although they’re really not looking forward to informing the label. Noah has already made up their mind about not wanting to address this more than necessary. They don’t want a big statement unless it is absolutely necessary. They’re sure that people will want to know more, but right now, Noah really doesn’t want to elaborate on how or why they came to this conclusion. 

As much as they know that they have benefitted from hearing other people's stories, they don’t quite feel prepared to elaborate on the mental agony of the past few months. 

Maya had brought up the rather touchy subject of therapy again, only this time Noah hadn’t protested it as much as she had before. 

It’s probably a good idea. 

Talking to Maya about this helps, but there’s only so much she can do before she reaches the end of her admittedly limited knowledge. And really, Noah doesn’t want to load even more onto her shoulders. 

Noah spoons another blob of hummus onto the plate. 

They have an afternoon of movies planned. Noah is happy to be away from band related things for a little bit. They’ve been working on the album with a lot more intention recently, but for the moment Noah needs to think about other things. 

A pair of arms wraps around her middle. 

“Is that the good hummus?”

Noah hums in response. 

“Do we have those caramelised onion crackers too?”

“I got a bag when I went to the store earlier.”

Maya doesn’t need to know yet that they got two just in case. 

“You are the best.” Maya presses a kiss to her cheek, “Thank you, sweet girl.” 

Noah tenses in her embrace. 

Sweet girl. 

They’d loved it when Maya had referred to them as sweet boy. Hearing the term like this feels – surprisingly good. 

Noah hadn’t put a lot of thought into that side of things. She’d been so busy figuring out that boy wasn’t for her that she hadn’t considered if girl was the right thing. 

“Noah?” Maya asks quietly, “I’m sorry if that wasn’t okay. I know we haven’t talked about that yet. It just – it just kinda slipped out.” 

They’re not opposed to it. 

Right now, it feels terrifying, but Noah has learnt that these things only feel scary because they’re new. 

“It’s okay.” they reply, still somewhat absent-minded, “I think I like it.” 

“You think?” 

“It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just new, and I’m not really used to it yet.” 

Maya kisses her cheek once again, “I know it’s a lot. You’re doing a lot of new things at once at the moment. I’m more than happy to keep reminding you that you’re the prettiest girl, if that’s what you need.” 

Noah wriggles her way out of Maya’s grasp, turning around so that they can look at her properly. 

“If I’m the prettiest girl, what does that make you?” 

“You tell me.” the little smirk on Maya’s lips makes her pulse speed up. 

“Can we settle on a tie?” Noah places her hand on Maya's waist, easing her closer. 

“I think we can arrange that.” 

Maya pushes up onto the tips of her toes to kiss Noah again. The kiss teeters on the edge of becoming more, but Maya pulls away before her hands have a chance to wander around Noah’s frame. 

“And now get that snack plate ready, I want to start our film.” 

Monday eventually rolls around, and somehow Noah doesn’t feel less nervous. In fact, she thinks that she’s somehow even more nervous about the whole thing. 

She had texted Nick before breakfast to ask if he had time for a call later. 

They’d barely managed to get all of their breakfast down, but Maya had insisted that they should eat at least a little bit. 

“It’ll be okay. You’ve known Nick long enough to know that this won’t change how he sees you.” Maya gives their hand a little squeeze as she speaks, “I’m here as back up.” Noah draws in a deep breath before they tap on Nick’s name. 

It feels like forever until he finally picks up the call. 

There’s a little bit of talk about the album and Nick complains about being stuck on one song before he eventually remembers that Noah probably had something they wanted to discuss. 

“Did you want something specific?” 

Noah swallows a breath and Maya gives them a reassuring nod. 

“Actually, I did –” they pause, having suddenly forgotten everything they’d planned to say.

They find Maya’s eyes and the softness within them. She mouths a you got this at her, and Noah wants to believe her so desperately. 

“You know how I’ve always kinda struggled with how I look?” she starts, hoping that Nick remembers the times he had to talk them out of the spirals of self-hatred. 

“Sure do.” 

“So – I didn’t know what it was until recently. Maya helped me figure this out – or at least start to figure it out. I – fuck, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

Nick speaks up after a long moment, “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be okay. If whatever you’ve figured out makes you feel better about yourself, that’s good news for me.” It’s enough to make their chest feel a little lighter. 

Noah decides to bite the bullet then, rip off the band-aid. 

“I’ve been using they and she as pronouns for a little while now, and I don’t think that I’ve ever felt better about myself.”

Noah bites her lip so hard that she thinks that she’ll draw blood. 

She can hear Nick moving around in the background, and her heart almost sinks a little. 

“Sorry I had to find a tissue.” he sniffles, “I am – so proud of you. I don’t know what it took to get to that point, but I can’t imagine that it was easy.”

Hearing Nick’s support brings the tears right back. 

“Noah – is that still right or –?” 

“Name stays. Just a different label.” “I mean that. I’ve never been more proud of you. This — by the way — doesn’t change a thing between us. You’re still my best friend, and I’ll still tell you when you’re talking shit.”

Noah laughs between the tears that still run across their cheeks, “I’m counting on that.” 

They give Nick a little recap of the last few months. Nick apologises more than once for adding to the mess of feelings in their head, but Noah quickly waves him off. 

He couldn’t have known. 

They fall back into their usual banter fairly quickly. Maya leaves them alone soon after, pressing a quick kiss to Noah’s cheek before she excuses herself. 

It’s comfortable, familiar. 

Nick has always been a safe person, and in retrospect, Noah isn’t sure why she was so scared of this call. 

“Have you told the others yet?” Nick asks after a while. 

“You’re the first – well, second.” 

They can practically see the proud look on Nick’s face. 

“They’ll be good with it too, you know? We’ll figure out how to approach this with the public side of the band together. You’re not alone with that. And if someone is awful about it, we’ll sic Bryan on them.”

Knowing that Nick is on her side so unconditionally means the world to her. It means that she’ll have one more person to support her when she tells the next person. And that makes it less scary. 

An afternoon of gaming later, Noah feels decidedly more relaxed. Knowing that Nick is so very normal about it feels good. He does stumble a few times, but this is a change for him too. Nick has only known her as one thing, it’ll take him a moment to get used to it too. 

When Noah leaves their office later that day, Maya is nowhere to be seen. They check their phone, to find a message that she’d gone out with Ellie to do a little shopping. 

Noah’s fingers hover over the screen for a long moment before they decide to send the message. 

Can you bring me something? Just something you’d think I’d like?

Like a treat? I was going to do that anyway <3

To wear

There’s a long beat of silence that makes their heart rate spike. 

Sure! I’ll keep an eye open. Are you looking for something specific?

Not really. I have no idea what would suit me. 

I’ll get you something pretty <3 I’m bringing food on the way back. 

How did things with Nick go in the end? Everything good? 

Everything good 

Maya eventually returns with a few bags and a few styrofoam boxes of take out. Noah gets her usual kiss on the cheek before Maya even sets her things down. 

The reason for this surprise shopping trip apparently was that Ellie’s sure that her partner will propose over the weekend, and she wanted to have something to wear just in case. Hearing how many of their friends are moving towards that phase of life makes Noah wonder when they’ll take that step. They know that they can’t see themselves with anyone else but Maya, but there’s so much going on right now that adding a wedding to the mix wouldn’t be ideal. It’ll happen when the time is right. 

Noah’s already surprised that they’re thinking about a wedding in the first place. But that’s what being in love does, Noah supposes. 

After their late lunch, Maya sets to unpacking all of her bags. 

“I hope I guessed the sizes right. This might be a little trial and error.” She explains as she pulls a flimsy looking shirt out of one of the bags, “You’ll have to have a look on your own eventually. But I thought this might be a good place to start.” 

She hands Noah a stack of clothes. 

Maya had stuck to a simple black colour palette, which Noah is honestly thankful for. None of it looks too out there, although they don’t know how to feel about the see through shirt. 

“Give it a try.” 

Noah thinks she sounds a little nervous, and really she gets it. 

This is a big thing.

She feels awfully nervous too. 

“I’m gonna — be in the bedroom. I’ll — be back.” 

Noah feels a little awkward when she walks off to their bedroom. This isn’t as high-stakes as the skirt was. Maya had picked up a nice-looking pair of trousers for her. The shirt was the actually out there thing. She strips down to her underwear, the boxers are starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Maybe there’s an in-between option that they can go for instead. 

The trousers fit comfortably, although they are a little short at the legs – nothing new, though. As she picks up the shirt, something else tumbles from it. Noah recognises it as something Maya wears under similar shirts. The idea of having their chest on display like this doesn’t feel too appealing at the moment. 

They slip the thing over their head. It’s a little constricting at first, the fabric hasn’t really stretched yet, and it feels uncomfortably tight. Noah is willing to chalk that up to them just not being used to wearing these things. 

Their fingers tremble when they unbutton the shirt – blouse? — and pull it over their shoulders. The fabric is so soft. In a way, Noah is glad that Maya had removed all the tags beforehand. They don’t want to know how expensive this all was. 

Somehow this doesn’t look like a lot. 

Something is missing. 

Noah cracks open the door, poking their head through the gap, “Can you help me?” 

They hear her steps approaching from a different part of the house, quickly coming towards them. 

“Everything okay?” 

“I don’t know how to make this look good.” Noah says quietly. 

“If you let me in, I’m sure we can figure something out.” 

Noah steps back from the door, allowing her into the room. She suddenly feels a little shy about this. 

“Can I?” Maya asks. 

Noah gives a nod in response. 

She starts to tuck and adjust the shirt. She rolls up the sleeves a little, undoes a few buttons. Noah lets her work in peace, just quietly watching as the image in the mirror changes. Maya pulls a belt from their side of the closet. She has Noah put it on, while she digs through her jewellery box. 

“Sit down for me? You’re too tall.” Maya says with a soft smile, “Can’t reach you.” 

They slump down on the edge of their bed. Maya comes to stand in front of them. One of her hands finds Noah’s cheek, forcing her to look up. 

“How are you feeling, love?” 

“A lot in one day.” Noah replies, “But this is nice.” 

“Is it?” she leans down to kiss Noah, “I’m glad. How would you feel about a little jewellery? Just for a little flavour?”.

“Sure.” 

Maya moves back just a little, allowing her to clasp two of her necklaces around Noah’s neck. Once she’s done, she sits down next to them. Her head drops to Noah’s shoulder. 

They make a pretty picture together. 

Noah always thought that they look good together. Maya’s softness, mixed with their still rough edges, works so perfectly. They don’t think that they want to be quite as feminine as Maya, at least not right now. She did like wearing the dress, but for the moment, this feels safer. 

“I really do have the prettiest girlfriend.” Maya says after a while. 

Noah’s insides warm. 

She’s still not entirely used to it. 

“We’re not having this discussion again.” They reply quickly. 

Maya fixes their eyes in the mirror, “I stand by what I said.” 

Noah breaks into a smile that Maya quickly mirrors. 

They lean over to pull Maya in for a kiss. 

The kiss quickly devolves into more, with Noah leaning over her. She’s missed this. Feeling so detached from herself has made this side of their relationship so difficult. The added anxiety hadn’t helped either. 

Noah lets her hands wander up the sides of her body. It feels a little as if she’s never done this before. Her lips skate down the length of Maya’s neck, teeth grazing against the soft skin there. The perfume she put on this morning floods into Noah’s senses. They can’t tell exactly what it smells like, but it's soft and warm and comforting. 

Maya’s hands thread into her hair.

“Baby.” Maya’s voice barely breaks through the fog in their head. 

Noah peels themself away from her skin. 

“Are you sure about this?” she asks softly. 

“Gotta show you how thankful I am for everything you’ve done for me, don’t I?” Noah replies, feeling herself smile around the words, “You’ve done so much for me.”

She resumes her trail of kisses along Maya’s neck. Noah lets herself sink to the carpet in front of the bed. They’ve done this so often, but it still feels so new in this moment. 

They ease Maya out of her shorts, pulling her underwear down with them. 

They kiss their way up the inside of her thigh, just like they’ve always done. She leaves her pretty marks on Maya’s skin. 

It’s been too long since she got to do that. 

Noah savours the first kiss she places against her folds. She stays where she is for a moment, lingering in the feeling. It takes her a moment to find her rhythm again, but once she does, Maya quickly turns into a mess of moans. Her hand is tight in Noah’s hair, keeping them in place. 

“Noah.” She sighs, “Make me feel so good, my love.” 

Noah lets out a whine against her. 

They sink further against Maya, wrapping their lips around the little bud of nerves. The noises Maya makes only spur them on further. 

Noah pours every bit of emotion that has gathered up over the last few months into this. Everything to show her love just how grateful she is for all the patience and grace. 

They curl a single finger into her, drawing another pretty sigh from Maya. One finger quickly becomes two. It’s been too long since they’ve felt Maya come undone at her hands. 

They can tell that Maya won’t last much longer. The pitch of her moans is already rising steadily, and they can feel her clenching around their fingers. Noah keeps up her tempo, working her closer and closer towards her climax. 

She can’t wait to feel her falling apart. 

Noah doesn’t have to wait much longer. Just a few passes of her fingers and tongue later, she feels Maya pulse around her. She keeps herself buried in her warmth, carefully lapping at her while she falls apart. 

The hand in Noah’s hair tightens almost painfully. 

They’re pulled away a few moments later. 

Noah drops their head against Maya’s thigh, drawing in a deep breath. They haven’t felt this breathless in a good while. But seeing Maya so blissed out above them makes it with worth it. 

Maya looks down at her with a barely there smile playing on her lips, “Thank you, my love.”

Noah presses a kiss to the skin of her thigh, “Thank you.”

“Do you – will you let me make you feel good too?”

Noah hates how hesitant she sounds. 

And they feel even worse when they shake their head, “I have no issue doing this for you, but anything to do with my – you know – makes me feel a little off right now. I’m sorry.” 

Maya’s hand combs through her hair so gently, “Don’t be sorry, love. It’s okay. I want you to feel good, and if you don’t want that right now, that’s okay.” 

Her hand settles on their cheek and Noah leans into her touch.  

“How about we get into something comfy and watch a movie or something?” she asks softly, “I think we still have a tub of the nice chocolate ice cream.” 

They must have missed the text.

Jolly doesn’t usually show up unannounced like this. She can hear them talking in the living room, but the words don’t quite make it through the door. 

Noah feels the panic rising in their chest. 

This is not how they had planned it. 

They’d made a whole elaborate plan on how they wanted to tell the boys. She wanted to do it on her own terms, decide when and how she wanted to tell them. 

This isn’t what she wanted. 

Noah’s breathing picks up.  

Their chest feels so awfully tightly. It hasn’t felt this tight in weeks. 

She tries her hardest to keep herself centred. She still doesn’t have a fool-proof method to stop the panic. 

Maya helps the most. 

She can’t always have Maya with her, even if that’s what she wants. 

Their phone buzzes, catching her attention. 

She reaches for it with the shakiest hands. Their fingers tremble when they unlock their phone. 

Jolly’s here I told him you were in a meeting. Do you want me to tell him to come back later?

Just give me a moment. 

This wasn’t how Noah had planned to tell Jolly. They would have liked a bit more time to prepare, but maybe it can’t always be how they want it to be. 

Noah gives themself a quick once over on the webcam. She’d needed to feel a little more confident today. The subtle make-up she’d put on that morning had given her the boost she’d needed to make the day a little easier, but now she has to face the prospect of Jolly seeing her like this. 

They knew it would happen at some point, but maybe she would have liked a little more time to prepare. 

Maya will be there as a buffer. 

Jolly will be okay with it. He’ll be okay with it. 

She steels herself for it. 

It’ll be fine. 

It’ll be fine. 

It’ll be fine. 

They draw in another deep breath. 

Noah can hear their muffled conversation behind the door. 

It’s terrifying. 

But this is who they are and sooner or later, they’ll have to find out. Sooner or later, everyone will see them. 

And she wants them to see. 

Rip off the band-aid, Noah tells herself. 

They open the door. 

Jolly and Maya are so caught up in their conversation that they don’t immediately notice them entering. Noah decides to just find a spot next to Maya as if nothing at all has changed. 

Jolly stops mid-sentence and gives them a once over. 

“This is new.” He states. 

“Not that new.” Noah replies. 

Maya barely manages to contain her laughter. 

“Well, it’s new to me.” Jolly still looks a little perplexed, and Noah does feel a little bad for leaving him in the dark like this. 

He’s obviously trying to decide how to approach this, and he’s very clearly having a tough time with it. 

“I — this isn’t how I had planned to do this at all, but you’re here now, and I can’t be in control of this all the time. I had a little realisation a while back and —” Noah reaches for Maya’s hand for support, “I’ve been using she and they as pronouns, and it’s been really good for me.”

Maya squeezes their hand as if to say well done. 

They watch Jolly absorb the information. 

“Are you happy?” He asks then. 

Noah doesn’t have to think about it at all. 

“I don’t think that I’ve ever been happier.”

Jolly looks at them for a long moment before he smiles. 

“That’s the important thing. I’m happy for you.” The genuine warmth that comes from him ushers the last bits of panic from their shoulders, “Anything I need to keep in mind? Do I need to change your name in my phone?”

Noah shakes their head, “Name stays.” 

“You know the label is going to love this, right?” Jolly suddenly sounds rather serious, “There’s a non-zero chance that they’ll try to centre all the marketing for the album around it.”

Noah hadn’t exactly thought this far. In fact, they hadn’t thought about the label at all. 

“If you don’t want that, we’ll make that clear. You know we won’t leave you alone with this. We’re all with you.” 

Noah didn’t expect him to react differently, but just as it had been with Nick, it's good to have confirmation. 

The conversation goes on and eventually drifts off into the actual reason for Jolly’s visit. They eventually move over into the studio, getting lost in the track they’ve been working on. 

It’s been a good while since they’ve had the option to work together like this. With the lockdown and the move, they’ve done most of the work on the album remotely. Actually being in the same room is good. 

They’re bouncing around ideas as if nothing has changed at all, and Noah is honestly glad that Jolly isn’t making a big deal out of this. She thinks that she catches him looking at her with a somewhat contemplative look. 

And she gets it. 

This is a big thing – not just for her, but for all of them. 

All of their livelihoods depend on this band. 

This will, inevitably, affect all of them. 

“Noah?” 

They look up from where they’ve zoned out. 

“I know this is a big thing, but I promise you that it’ll be fine. The band will be fine. If someone has an issue with you figuring out who you are, they can get lost. We don’t need people like that.” Jolly places a hand on their shoulder, “You will always be one of us. Different pronouns and clothes won’t change that.”

Noah quickly finds herself wrapped up in a tight hug. 

She lets herself sag against Jolly. 

The tears come a moment later. 

Jolly lets them cry until their shoulders stop shaking. 

“We’ll be fine. This is scary, but it’ll be fine. You’re not alone. We’re all here for you. I imagine that Maya did most of the heavy lifting with you, but if you ever need to talk, I’m here. Doesn’t matter what time it is. I hope you know that was the case before this, too.”  

“Thank you. Really.” 

Jolly waves his hand dismissively, “Not for that. This is just being a good friend. Should we get this finished, or do you want to get back to it later?” 

“Do you want to stay for lunch? I think Maya’s making some baked thing.” 

Jolly naturally stays. 

And while the recipe Maya tried out didn’t work out like she had planned, they still get a good laugh out of it. It’s not entirely dreadful, Noah thinks, but they know that Maya will be a little disappointed by it. 

They’re cleaning up the dishes when Jolly leans into Noah’s space again. 

“Before I forget. Who else have you told? I don’t want to accidentally mention this to someone before you get a chance to tell them yourself.” 

“Just you and Nick.” Noah replies, “And Maya, of course.” 

Jolly nods, “Good. Just making sure. This is not my news to spread around. I’m sorry if this happened before you were ready for it. I just happened to be in the area, and it was easier to stop by then text you.” 

“It’s okay. I can’t control how it happens every time. Sometimes people are just going to find out and I have to deal with that.” 

“Remember that we have to start thinking about the album rollout soon. We can control how people find out to an extent, but eventually, it’ll be out of our grasp.” 

There are a lot of things Noah hasn’t really considered yet. 

In a way, it’s a clean break. 

They’re coming back with a new album and things will just be a little different. 

It’s like Jolly said. If people have an issue with this, they can stay away. The right people will stay, and maybe a few new ones will join them too. 

Work on the album goes well. Jolly comes over a few more times to finish the last few tracks. Overall, Noah is more than happy with it. The album has turned out more introspective than they had planned, but then again, things have been rather tumultuous. 

With Davis clued in too, they’ve started working on merchandise and art.

Noah has decided to rip off another band-aid and sent a text to Matt letting him know.

Thankfully, Matt seems quite okay with it all and immediately returns to business after acknowledging the news. 

Folio is a different story. They’d called him about a week earlier and he’s still asking questions. 

It’s endearing. 

They all have their own ways of showing their support, and Noah appreciates all of it. 

Noah shifts where they’re settled against Maya’s side. They’re rewatching Avatar again, meaning that won’t miss anything if she allows herself to drift off into thought once in a while. 

She had felt so caged in and isolated before she had opened up about to Maya about how she felt, all of out of fear of being even more alone. And now she’s sure that she’s never felt more loved before. Even with this big change, their people still love them. 

Maya lets out a huff. 

Noah turns to look at her. 

“Nick’s calling. He’s so worried that he’ll say or do something wrong.” she says with a sigh, “Let me get up? I won’t be long.” 

As much as Noah doesn’t want to let her go, she reluctantly lets herself slump over to the other side of the sofa. 

Maya gives their hand a quick squeeze as she gets up. She answers the call just as she slips into her studio. Noah knows that she’s probably just going to reassure Nick that he can’t really do anything wrong, but her curiosity gets the better of her. 

They follow a moment later, just to listen in for a moment. 

“Nick – I promise you that you can’t do anything wrong. This is new for all of us. And I know that you don’t want to hurt her, but don’t you think that Noah knows that you won’t say something hurtful on purpose?” Maya asks with a hint of humour in her voice, “You've known them for how long now? — Exactly. It’ll be fine. I promise. — No, Nick, this is not annoying. It’s okay. I’d rather have you ask questions than make assumptions. And I know Noah feels the same way. You can’t imagine how much knowing that you’re all on their side means to them. They were so scared that somehow one of you wouldn’t be – I know – but I’m glad that it all worked out. Won’t lie, for a while, when I didn’t know what was going on yet, I didn’t know what she was doing to do. I’d never seen them like that and it really scared me. But, thankfully, everything worked out. We’ll see you next week, right? Good –” 

Noah quickly makes their way back to the sofa before Maya hangs up.  

They know that they’d worried her, but sometimes it slips their mind just how much anguish they put Maya through. 

She emerges a short while later and sinks down next to them again, “You wanna get comfy in bed? We have a big day planned for tomorrow.” 

They’re only going shopping tomorrow, but Noah has made the plan to at least try to buy something more feminine. They want what they’ll wear on stage to go with the vibe of the album, and that means new clothes. 

It’ll be a challenge. 

She’s stolen a few things from Maya, but it’s just not the same thing. Borrowing Maya’s clothes helped, but she wants to find her own style. 

“Early night sounds good.” Noah agrees. 

Somehow this is more daunting than Noah had expected. This isn’t their first time going out since they’ve made the switch, but they’ll be out for a while and there’s very little space for them to hide away if they do get overwhelmed. Having Maya at their side does help, but even Maya can’t make all of their anxieties disappear. 

The fact that they’re here to buy more clothes for her doesn’t help either. They try to keep telling themselves that it's only clothing. 

It’s not that big of a deal. 

Noah follows Maya through the racks. They don’t really know what they’re looking for, which doesn’t make this easier. Maya keeps holding out random things to them, but so far, nothing has felt right. 

Noah plucks a shirt from one of the racks. It’s similar to the cropped ones that they’ve borrowed from Maya. 

“That’s cute.” Maya notes, “Could be fun with that one button up you’ve never worn and some shorts.”

Noah tries to imagine it. They know the shirt Maya is talking about. They’d wanted to try it, but it had never looked quite right. Maybe this could work. 

“You know – somehow didn’t think that shorts were an option.” 

Maya smiles so sweetly then, “We live in L.A. babe. When was the last time you’ve seen me in jeans?”

“So, where do we get shorts?” 

Somehow that seems to break the dam. 

They wander from store to store after that, and Noah tries her best to not feel self-conscious about how much money they’re spending or the fact that she’s carrying bags of clothes that will make her feel so much better about herself. 

To their surprise, people don’t seem to be too fussed even when Noah browses the racks of the women’s section on their own. 

Maya wants to make one final stop before they get lunch. As they approach the store, Noah realises where they’re going. They’ve accompanied Maya here before, so eager to get a peek into her dressing room. Everything Maya had bought from this shop had turned their brain into soup. 

Coming here now feels a little scary. 

Noah can’t quite picture what their body would look like in underwear like this. They’ve barely managed to graduate to things with less coverage than their usual boxers. The lacy little things Maya wears still feel very daunting. 

They reach for her hand, trying to find a little comfort for their frayed nerves. 

“You don’t have to get anything if you don’t want to. I just want to have a look at the new arrivals.”  

Noah is content to just watch while Maya browses. They watch her pick up a few things to try on and just out of curiosity, Noah decides to examine some of the items a little closer. 

The first thing that catches their eye is a deep red set. The panties are fairly high-waisted, something she likes seeing on Maya. There are two matching top options – a bra with cups and something she’s sure Maya has called a bralette before, but who really knows. 

She picks up the top. The fabric is so soft between their fingers. They don’t know if this would even fit them. 

“Found something you like?” Maya presses up behind them. 

Noah gives a nod, “I just don’t know if it’ll fit.” 

Maya eyes the garments, taking it from their hands, “Should be okay. Do you wanna get this?”

“I want to try it at least.” they say quietly. 

“We can buy it and if you decide that you don’t like it for whatever reason we’ll figure something out.” 

They watch as Maya pays for their items. 

Noah can’t quiet decide if she’s anxious or excited about this. 

The more they’ve been actively exploring this side of them, the more comfortable they’ve become with it. Some of the insecurities they’ve held before suddenly make a lot of sense. With the realisation that boy had never been the right thing for them, a few had simply disappeared. Sure, in turn they’d discovered new things to be insecure about, but in the grand scheme of thing Noah has never felt more comfortable in their body. 

Noah can hardly contain their excitement when they get back home. She’s only tried on a few things at the stores, but some of the more out there things were reserved for the safety of their home. They’ve stuck to trousers for the most part, but the shirt options they’ve picked are a little more bold. 

But there’s something Noah is particularly excited to try on. Throughout the drive home, Noah has come to the conclusion that their feelings towards underwear lean more towards excitement. Their hope is that it’ll make them feel a little bit better about their bare body. It won’t make everything disappear, but maybe it’ll give them a little bit more confidence. And maybe it’ll spark something else too. 

Noah pluck their bag from the lingerie store and disappear into the bathroom, while Maya is distracted by something else. 

She wants to try this on her own first – just in case. This is still a big thing, after all. Noah strips down to their underwear. They’ve taken to wearing soft, unlined sports bras just for the feeling. There’s nothing to cover, but the extra step makes them feel a little more feminine. 

So far, it has worked. 

They take a moment to look at themselves. Their body hasn’t changed much, there are things they wish were different, but they’ve come to realise that these things don’t happen overnight. Noah has considered her options and while she hasn’t settled on anything yet, she has brought some of it up to Maya for a second opinion.

Noah finally shimmies out of their underwear. 

The new stuff doesn’t look quite as scary now that they’re in the safety of their home. Their hands still shake a little when they pull the panties up their thighs. The material feels so different on their skin. Noah adjusts themselves, trying to get comfortable in this. It’s clear that this isn’t made for their anatomy, but it feels good regardless. The high-waisted fit of the panties gives their waist a little more definition, and with the way the legs are cut out they actually feel as if there’s shape to their form. Noah tugs on the bralette, this isn’t too different from the things they’ve been wearing for a couple of weeks now. The fabric makes a world of a difference, though. The colour looks beautiful against their skin, and they like how the see-through fabric shows off their tattoos. 

They hear Maya call their name from the bedroom. 

Noah gives herself a final once over in the mirror before she pulls her shirt back over her frame. She loves when Maya does this, and showing herself off like this feels right.  

She opens the door to the bedroom, stepping out into the room. 

“Have you seen the —” Maya stops as soon as she sees them. 

Her eyes drift across Noah’s frame. 

They feel brave today. It’s taken them a while to feel comfortable showing their body again, even just to Maya. But today they feel good about themselves. Seeing Maya so affected by them definitely helps. 

“Did you try on the underwear?” she asks softly. 

Noah nods. 

Maya meets them in the middle of the room. She pulls Noah in for a kiss. Her hand is so soft on the side of their face. Maya’s unoccupied hand plays with the hem of their shirt, and Noah knows exactly what she wants. They’ve done the same to her. 

“Can I see?” there’s a trace of hesitance in her voice, but the curiosity outweighs it easily. 

Noah has long made up her mind. She wants Maya to see – to touch. 

They reach for the bottom of the shirt and slowly pull it upwards. Maya’s hands practically fly to their waist as soon as it is revealed to her. They feel her eyes drifting across their body, trying to take all of them in. 

“Noah.” she sighs, “You – you look so beautiful.” 

They meet in another kiss. Noah feels herself being pulled in by her waist, as Maya’s hand shifts to the small of her back. They shove their hand under Maya’s shirt, suddenly desperate to feel skin too. 

It’s been a while since they’ve been close like this and admittedly, Noah has missed it. 

Maya carefully walks them back towards the bed. Noah lets herself fall onto the mattress with a laugh. Maya quickly straddles her waist, leaning down to kiss her again. 

“Are you okay with this?” she asks between the kisses they trade. 

Noah sighs out a yes. 

They need to feel her hands on their body, need the gentle affection Maya is so willing to give them. 

From their lips, Maya begins a trail of kisses down their neck. She leaves her marks there, sucking a pretty bruise just under the edge of their jaw. Noah’s brain is already so full of fuzz. They feel hands drifting across their body, fingers tracing along the lines of their tattoos. 

Maya’s hands come to cover their chest. There isn’t anything to cup there, but the idea of it alone is enough to make Noah sigh. A thumb drags across their nipple, before she tugs at it just a little. The sting of it pulls a sound from Noah’s throat. 

Noah tangles a hair into Maya’s hair as she continues to descend along her body. They can feel the excitement bubbling in the middle as she trails her kisses along their tummy. 

“Can I touch you?” Maya asks softly. 

“Please.” she chokes out, “Please – it’s been so long.” 

Maya lets out a quiet chuckle, before she lets her hand wander lower. For now, it stays above her underwear. She places her hand above Noah’s crotch. Her touch is light, giving Noah a moment to adjust to it. 

Maya continues to kiss across their chest and tummy while the pressure of her hand slowly increases. Noah’s already halfway to hard and they’ve barely done anything at all. 

“Tell me if something feels off, okay? I want you to feel good.” Maya looks up at her with such a devastating softness. 

Maya slowly works her hand into their panties. Noah sighs when her hand curls around their cock. 

“I almost don’t want to take these off you.” Maya muses, as her fingers trace across the waistband of the panties, “You look so pretty in them.” 

“I feel pretty.”  

“Good.” She presses a kiss against their tummy, “Now let me make you feel good.” 

She carefully tugs the panties down until Noah’s cock comes free. 

Noah makes a little high-pitched sound when it slaps up against her tummy. Maya’s hand immediately returns to her, setting a slow, but steady rhythm. She continues peppering Noah’s skin with the softest kisses. Noah doesn’t even try to stop herself from moaning. She knows that Maya loves to hear her sounds, and it all feels too good anyway. 

The brush of Maya’s tongue against the head of their cock makes their hips tip forward. It’s been months since they’ve felt anything except the occasional rushed touch of their own hand on their skin. 

Noah whines when she takes the head between her lips. It’s almost overwhelming. The warmth of her mouth erases practically every thought in Noah’s head. Maya has always had that effect on them, but it’s so much more intense now. They drop their head back against the pillow, allowing themself to get lost in the sensation. 

Their hand tangles into Maya’s hair, less to direct her and more to keep her close. Noah decides then that she needs to feel more. While the mouth of her love feels good, she needs to feel all of her. 

“Maya.” she sighs, “I – fuck – let me feel you. Please. I wanna be inside –” the words come out broken up and breathy, but she can’t bring herself to worry, “Please baby.” she chokes out, “Please let me feel you. It’s been so long.” 

She hasn’t felt this desperate for her in a while.

Maya pulls away from them, but keeps her hand on their cock. 

“How do you want me?”

“Can you — on top of me.” Noah makes herself say between the soft sighs Maya pulls from her.

They watch as Maya undresses herself. She doesn’t make much of a show of it. And just a few moments later, she’s straddling Noah’s waist.

She reaches for their hand and guides it between her thighs. Noah dips her fingers between her folds. She’s soaked already. Maya sighs when their fingers sink into her. She’s so soft and warm, and Noah can’t wait to feel her wrapped around them again. It’s been far too long.

“Noah.” 

Hearing her sigh their name like that makes the warmth in their belly burn even hotter. They curl their fingers inside of her, pulling another moan from her. 

The need to feel her becomes too overwhelming then. 

“Think you’re ready?” She asks, finding herself sounding a little shaky. 

Maya nods, drawing in a stuttered breath. 

Noah slowly pulls their fingers from her. They guide the head of their cock towards her entrance. Their breath catches in their throat when they make contact, and Noah has to take a moment to stop themselves from coming undone then and there. Maya sinks down on her so, so slowly. 

She tangles their fingers together, holding on to Noah for dear life. Her eyes fall shut as she sinks lower. Noah thinks that she’s never been more beautiful. Her lips tremble, brows furrowed so slightly.

Maya pauses once she’s fully seated on top of Noah. She leans forward to meet kiss them. Her hand is so soft and warm against their cheek. It’s all so dizzying. 

“I love you so much, Noah.” she speaks against their lips, “My beautiful darling. My beautiful girl.” 

Their heart pounds in their chest. 

It still feels so novel, but god it feels good.

Noah pulls her back down for another kiss. 

“I love you.” Noah replies, lips spreading into a smile. 

Maya stays close for a moment longer, allowing both of them to settle just a little more. The soft kisses and words they exchange sear themselves into Noah’s mind. They know that Maya loves them, she shows it without shame. But in this moment, Noah feels so impossibly loved. 

Noah trails her fingers up the length of Maya’s back, pulling a little laugh from her. 

She grinds down against them, making both of them moan. 

The slow rhythm she sets makes Noah’s head swim. It’s a grind more than anything else, but it’s enough – more than enough, actually. 

Their hands are still interlaced, and Noah is glad to have that security. Their free hand roams across Maya’s thigh. Noah lets their eyes drift across her body from where they’re joined all the way up to her face. They find Maya already fixed on them, and they can’t possibly look away again. 

Noah doesn’t know how long they’ll last. 

Their constitution feels so worn and frayed already. Maya’s soft praise only pushes her further towards the edge.

“You feel so good.” she sighs, “Make me feel so good, my love.”

Noah wants to return the words and tell Maya how good she’s making her feel, but the words just won’t come. The only thing she can offer is a near wanton moan. 

Their hand grips into Maya’s thigh a little tighter as their hips pitch upwards. 

“You’re so close, aren’t you, baby?” she asks softly.

Noah gives another whine in response, “So close. You feel so good around me.”

Maya picks up her effort a little, now seemingly intent on bringing both of them to their climax. The warmth that spreads through them is unlike anything they’ve felt before. Feeling Maya clench around them makes their vision white out a little. 

They feel Maya tip forward against their chest at some point. They wrap their arms around her body, keeping her as close as possible to them. Their chests heave in unison. Noah is sure that they’ve never been more connected. 

Maya rests her head against their chest. With just a turn of their head, Noah can press their lips to her forehead. They stay like this for a long moment, just enjoying each other's warmth and presence. Noah hadn’t realised just how much they’ve missed this. Being close to Maya like this always made them feel more connected to her, and starving themself of this connection had impacted them more than they had previously thought. 

Half an hour later, they’re cuddled up in bed. 

Noah shuffles back against Maya’s chest. She wraps her arm around them, her hand settling on their tummy. Maya presses a kiss to their bare shoulder. 

Noah lets herself sink into the embrace, allowing it to envelop her entirely. Their nerves still buzz with the ecstasy of their high, but it's a pleasant, warm feeling. 

They doze off a little while later, entirely content and happy. 

Noah paces along the length of their living room. 

The article and the related posts will drop any moment and god she’s never been more nervous. This is the first time they’ll be seen in public since they’ve gone down this road. The pictures Bryan has taken are genuinely some of their favourites. 

Maya had helped her assemble a good look for this shoot. The new clothes and a little bit of make-up had done a world of a difference. Noah had felt incredibly confident that day. 

Right now, all she wants to do is sink into the ground until all of this is over. 

“It’s up.” Nick announces. 

Noah swears that she’s going to throw up. 

At this point, the actual album release will be a breeze. 

Maya wraps an arm around their middle. 

“It’ll be okay, love. You know that the important people are on your side.” she says quietly, “We all love you so much. I love you so much.” 

Noah pulls their phone from the pocket of their sweats. The tremble of their hand makes it almost impossible to unlock their phone. They navigate towards Instagram, fully knowing that some of the words will sting. 

They scroll through the comments, anticipating the vitriol. 

The first comment that catches their eye is the exact opposite of what they’d expected. 

this is so cool! i’m proud of them <3

i love seeing someone living as themselves

this rocks, haters can get fucked 

whoa i didn’t know noah went by they/she that’s dope!

There are a few odd comments that follow the usual bigoted pattern. The overwhelming majority is either just really excited to see them release new music or offering their support for Noah. 

“I told you they’d be good.” Nick calls from the other side of the room. 

There’s a little commotion about someone commenting that they’re only going in this direction because of Cyberpunk, but the room quickly quiets down again. 

Noah is set to make an appearance on a podcast with Jolly later that day. They know the person they’re supposed to talk to, and Noah is surprisingly excited to get to talk about the new album. They’ve worked hard on this and Noah knows that they’re all very proud of what they’ve created. Being able to talk about it after all this time feels good. 

For the first time since they’ve been doing interviews, Matt has requested that they’re sent the questions ahead of time, just so they can have a bit of control over what they’re asked. Noah knows that they won’t be able to avoid the topic entirely, but they don’t want it to become the main focus of every interview they do from now on. Which pronouns they use shouldn’t have anything to do with the music the band they’re in makes. Thankfully, this interviewer had stuck to the more important things. 

“Now, this new cycle comes with a lot of changes for you as a band.” he starts and Noah steels themselves for the inevitable question, “It seems like you’ve changed up your sound quite a bit from the snippets we’ve heard so far. Will the whole album lean into that kind of sound or will there be some of the heavier sound that we’re used to from you?” 

Noah let’s out the breath they’ve been holding as Jolly gives his answer. They chime in eventually, adding that they want to keep evolving their sound, both for their and their audiences' sake. To keep things interesting. 

Noah marks this day as a good one. 

Things could have gone quite a lot worse, all things considered. She tries not to think about the mountain of unanswered e-mails that still waits for her. They’ll work their way through them in the coming days.

They spend what’s left of the day together as a group. 

They don’t get nearly enough days to just hang out together any more. Having time with their friends without the looming obligations biting at their ankles is nice. 

For the rest of the evening, the band doesn’t matter, and they’re just a group of friends spending good quality time together. 

Watching the tickets for the tour sell out had been invigorating. It is just a small run of shows but knowing that they had sold out almost all of the shows had been a massive boost to their ego. 

The general reception of the new music had been good, and it had eased Noah’s nerves about the first show, at least a little bit. 

Now that the day has come, though, Noah feels impossibly nervous. They know that they’ve been a little irritable all day, but if anyone had been affected by it, they hadn’t made it known. 

Doors have opened by now, and Noah really should start to get ready. She’s kept herself busy with vocal warm-ups and administrative things. All that was left to do now was get dressed. 

Noah enters the dressing room, to find Maya sorting through their things. 

“There you are.” she says with a smile, “I was about to text you. Do you need help getting ready or do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Please stay?” Noah asks as they wrap their arms around her middle, “I think I might need a little help.” 

The outfit they’ve picked for this show is fairly neutral. With a few tricks, Maya had somehow managed to give their waist a little more definition. It’s not ideal yet, but it’s all in the works now. They’ve already made so much progress, and everything that is coming up now will only make things better. 

Noah sits down in front of the vanity. 

They’ve done this so often already, but right now, they can’t stop their hands from shaking. Maya pulls a chair up next to them, taking the brush out of their hand. 

“Let me help you, my love.” she says softly. 

Noah gladly turns their chair towards her. Maybe having this moment will make her feel a little calmer. 

“Didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, how did your last therapy session go?” Maya asks as she continues to work on their make-up. 

Noah had brought up a big question during the last session. They’d thought about it for a while. They had figured out very early on that the thing that had the biggest impact on their dysphoria was how boyish their body still felt. Noah has done what they could, and the logical next step is – as much as it scared them – hormones. 

They have brought it up with Maya before, but it had never been a firm decision. Maya had, naturally, been incredibly supportive of the idea. 

“I asked her about HRT.”

Maya stops moving then. She sets down the products in her hands. 

“You did? What did she say?” ​​

“She’s going to write me a note just in case. But she agrees that it’s the best option for me.” 

Maya breaks into a wide smile. She wraps them into a tight hug. Maya presses a plethora of kisses against the cheeks and lips. 

“That’s so good. I’m so happy for you.” 

Noah lets herself sink against Maya. Her support has been their biggest crutch during all of this. They don’t know what they would have done if they didn’t have Maya, or even worse if she hadn’t been supportive of them. Thankfully, Noah doesn’t have to worry about that. Somehow, she’s ended up with the best support system she could have asked for.

“Thank you, really.” Noah says finally, “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” 

Maya pulls away from them just enough to look at them, “You’re my person, Noah. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. With maybe a few exceptions – I draw the line at murder.”

Noah can’t help but laugh at that. 

“I mean that. Watching you be so sad and unlike yourself during those first few weeks – I never want that again. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.” 

Noah has to fight the tears. They’ve had this talk a few times, but it never fails to bring her to tears. 

“You don’t know how much that means to me.” Noah sniffles.

“I just need you to talk to me. Tell me when you need something. I can’t read your mind yet.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Noah leans in to steal a kiss from her, “I think we have to get going, though. Don’t wanna rush things. And Bryan will want to take a few more pictures.” 

Maya gives them another kiss before she continues to work on their make-up. 

Maya doesn’t do anything too out of the ordinary, but it’s enough to make them feel comfortable and confident. And mixed with the outfit, Noah feels more than ready to head out on stage again. 

As expected, Bryan snaps a few more pictures of all four of them. He has been taking candids all afternoon, and Noah is genuinely curious to see how Bryan has captured her. They all go about their own little routines in the last few moments before they go on stage. 

Noah stops by the last restroom before the stage, just to get a final glimpse at themself. So much, and at the same time so little, has changed. 

For the moment, the nerves outweigh any kind of excitement they feel. Noah’s sure that thing will settle once they’re actually one stage and the first song is underway. It’s always like that. 

They’re always impossibly nervous up until the moment they’re singing the first line. Noah finds her eyes in the mirror. 

She’ll be okay. 

Noah tugs at her shirt for a moment, makes sure that the buckle of her belt is centred. She fixes her hair, swipes a little speck of eyeshadow from her cheek. Noah wonders how long she can hide away here. 

They can hear them talking outside, they’re sure that they can hear Matt and Nick talking right in front of the door. Something about the last few shows selling out too. 

Noah decides that it’s time to stop stalling. 

She exits the restroom again and wriggles her way into their conversation. 

“What’s that about selling out?” they ask, draping their arm across Nicks shoulder. 

“Tour’s all sold out.” Matt announces, “Album’s selling like mad, too. At this point, we might even make a profit.”

Hearing that their coming out had no major negative impact on the band and their career takes a good chunk of weight off their shoulders. Nick pulls them into a half hug. 

A moment later, they’re all huddled up. Jolly says something about how they’ll be better than ever tonight, but Noah can barely hear him over the buzzing in their ears. They can hear the noise of the crowd, their excited cheers as the lights dim down. 

Folio’s excitement about getting back on stage bubbles over into her. 

This will be a good one. 

Just before they go on stage, they look back to see Maya coming up towards the side with Davis. 

All of her favourite people are here tonight. Everyone she loves is here to support them – to support her. 

As soon as they step foot on stage and the noise of the crowd fills their ears, they know that things will be okay. The show is unlike any they’ve played before. The energy in the room gives Noah drive to barrel through the setlist. 

And by the time the band takes their bows, Noah is sure of it all. 

Things will be okay. 

Noah is glad that they’ve decided against a big dinner with everyone after the show. Instead, they find themself curled up against Maya’s side while they devour their spread of takeout. The show flickering across the screen matters little, Noah is too lost in their own thoughts to pay attention to it. 

The night couldn’t have gone better. 

Being welcomed back with such open arms had superseded any expectation they’d had leading up to today. Sure, they’d hoped that people would be accepting or even welcoming, but the outpouring of love and support not just for her but for the whole band had meant the world to her. 

The thing that had really sealed it all was seeing Maya at the side of the stage. The pride and love they had found on her face had made it all worth it. 

Noah shifts against her, trying to get a little more comfortable. They’re exhausted beyond reason and here, with Maya so close, they’re about ready to clock out for the night. 

Maya presses an absent-minded kiss to the top of their head, as her arm tightens around their middle. 

This is all they need, Noah thinks. 

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@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

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@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @thewrstinme @Follow-me-down-to-wonderland

[kikyoupdates]

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

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“Hehe.”   

You stare down at your brand-new selfie—taken with none other than Gojo Satoru . He’s smiling and posing while making peace signs with his fingers, and on your end, you’ve got a stupidly wide grin on your face, looking like you’ve just won the lottery. Which, in all fairness, you kind of did��.   

“There you go,” Gojo hums, then he stops to cross his arms for a moment. “But why the selfie request all of a sudden? I’ll admit, I’m pretty popular in the world of jujutsu sorcerers, but you shouldn’t know about any of that.”   

“I don’t,” you nod. “I just think you’re really hot—I mean, really cool. Y-Yeah. You just seem really cool.”   

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Fushiguro staring at you in disgust.   

Goddammit. That dude must have an absolutely terrible impression of you so far.   

“Very true,” Gojo grins, swiping his hair back like some kind of L’Oréal shampoo model. “I am pretty cool, if I do say so myself.”   

Fushiguro looks even more disgusted now.   

Gojo claps his hands together. “Anyways! Time to head out. Take one last moment to make sure you’re not forgetting anything, because once we’re there, well… I can’t guarantee when you’ll be able to come back.”   

It’s a good thing your parents aren’t actual parents, because it’s safe to say that there’s no longer anything tying you to this place. Of course, you’re terrified of what the future may hold, but you made the decision to be brave, and to try to help people in the process. If you play your cards right, maybe lives can be spared. Maybe not everyone has to die.   

So, yeah. You’re ready to leave. You’re ready to start this new chapter.   

And you also now have a selfie with Gojo Satoru. So far, life is pretty good.   

The trip to Tokyo takes a couple hours by train, but fortunately, you’ve got Itadori to keep you company the whole time. You try to engage Fushiguro in conversation as well, but he mostly keeps to himself and just stares out the window without saying anything. It doesn’t help that he’s clearly suspicious of you, but whatever. Not much you can do about it right now.   

Some time passes, and eventually, you reach your destination. Fushiguro separates from the group and goes off on his own to receive treatment for his injuries, so you’re left behind with Gojo and Itadori as you venture further into the mountains. 

“I can’t believe this is really Tokyo,” Itadori marvels.  

“Even Tokyo’s like this on the outskirts,” Gojo brushes off. “More importantly, Yuji, you’ve got an interview with the principal right away. If you mess up, you might get rejected, so do your best, okay? No pressure.”   

“Huh? Does that mean I’ll get executed right away?!”   

“What a disappointment. So, you’re not even the leader?”   

A familiar voice. You freeze up at the sound of it, unsurprised to find Sukuna’s mouth on the side of Itadori’s cheek. A partial manifestation, or whatever the hell you might call that. Either way, it gives you the creeps.   

“A hierarchy not based purely on strength is boring, if you ask me,” Sukuna chuckles.   

Itadori slaps his palm over his cheek in a hurry to shut Sukuna up. “Sorry about that. He pops out sometimes. I can’t always help it.”  

Unfortunately, Sukuna refuses to disappear, and this time, he manifests on the back of Itadori’s hand instead.   

“You really did a number on me earlier. I’m letting you know right now. Once I make this boy’s body completely mine, you’ll be the first one I kill!”   

That stinky old bastard is just running his mouth (quite literally), so you’re not really fazed.   

At least, not until he turns his attention to you.  

“And you ,” Sukuna mutters. “The strange girl. You never answered my question before. What are you? What in the world is going on with your cursed energy? It’s bothersome. Hurry up and give me a straight answer, or you’ll regret it.”   

“Ugh, again ?” Itadori fumes, stomping his foot in frustration. “Go away, already! You’re so annoying! And leave [Name] alone!”   

Fortunately, Itadori manages to fully suppress him this time, putting an end to Sukuna’s incessant yapping. Dude is seriously in love with the sound of his own voice.   

Unfortunately, Gojo already heard everything he said loud and clear.   

“Sukuna appears to have a fixation on you,” Gojo remarks, pressing his hand to his chin. “Well, I guess it’s not really that surprising, considering the ridiculous amount of cursed energy you’re constantly emitting. It’s obvious that you’re not a sorcerer because you don’t seem to know how to control it, but in terms of sheer capacity, it far surpasses that of an ordinary human.”   

“N-Neat,” you reply stupidly.   

Gojo stares at you for a few moments, then throws his head back and starts laughing.   

“Haha! Sure, I guess you could call it that. Being strong is pretty neat, without a doubt. I was going to say how honored I am to be the target of Ryomen Sukuna, but it looks like he’s even more interested in you, so you’ve got me beat in that regard.”   

“I’m not honored at all. I want nothing to do with that nasty guy.”   

Gojo laughs again. “Yeah, I bet. I can only imagine how confused you must be right now. Not to mention freaked out.”   

“So, is Sukuna really that famous?” Itadori asks.   

“Yes,” Gojo nods. “Ryomen Sukuna. He’s a demon of lore with four arms and two faces. But the truth is that he was actually a human who existed, although it was well over a thousand years ago. In the golden age of jujutsu, sorcerers gathered up all their might to challenge him, but ultimately, they failed to defeat him entirely. Crowned with the title of Sukuna, we couldn’t even destroy his grave wax, and he thus traversed the ages after his death as a cursed object. Without a doubt, he is the King of Curses.”   

“So, who’s stronger, you or him?”   

“Hm. Well, if Sukuna were to regain all his power, then it’d probably be pretty draining.”   

“Would you lose?”   

Gojo slows his steps for a moment, then tilts his head towards both of you, a cocky grin plastered across his lips.   

“Nah,” he chuckles. “I’d win.”   

Oh my god. I really got to see him deliver that iconic line. And he looked hot as hell while doing it.   

You stare at him with hearts in your eyes, already in full fangirl mode (which is pretty much your default mode, to be fair), but Gojo beckons the two of you onwards before you can get lost in your thoughts.   

He leads you inside one of the buildings, where you’re greeted by a familiar face.   

“You’re late, Satoru. Eight minutes late. Not quite enough to chastise you for, but I thought I told you to fix that bad habit of yours.”  

It’s the principal, of course—Yaga Masamichi. He’s currently in the middle of crafting a new puppet, and he’s also got more than a handful of them already surrounding him. At first glance, they’re adorable, but you know that their appearance is awfully deceptive, and they’re a lot stronger than they look.   

Poor Itadori’s about to get bitch-slapped by one of those puppets soon.   

“That old dude’s randomly making really cute stuff,” Itadori whispers in your ear.   

“If it’s not enough for you to get mad about, then cut me some slack, will ya?” Gojo sighs. “I figured you’d just be making your dolls anyway. Eight minutes is no big deal.”   

Principal Yaga gestures towards Itadori. “That’s him, right? Sukuna’s vessel. And the girl beside him… must be the other student you mentioned. The one with the abnormal amount of cursed energy.”   

“My name is Itadori Yuji!” your friend introduces, bowing his head in a hurry. “I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence! It’s nice to meet you!”   

Shit. Is it my turn now?   

“I-I’m [Last Name] [Name],” you say, bowing as well. “And I like, um… I guess I like cool guys. Like Gojo. And funny guys, like Ryan Reynolds. I also think Timothée Chalamet is pretty cute—”   

“Stop, stop.” Principal Yaga presses a palm to his forehead and exhales loudly. “I never asked either of you to start listing your personal preferences. Cut it out, already. And why was Satoru’s name randomly thrown in there?”   

“I can’t help that I’m extremely cool,” Gojo shrugs.   

“Satoru, that’s enough out of you. More importantly, why did you come here?” Principal Yaga asks, now addressing Itadori.   

Itadori looks confused, of course. “Uh… I came here for an interview. I’m pretty sure.”   

“But why Jujutsu High?”   

“To learn… jujutsu? And stuff?”   

“I mean beyond that. What do you hope to find once you’ve studied curses and learned how to exorcize them?”   

This time, Itadori glances towards you, almost as if he’s seeking some kind of guidance. “Beyond that…? Well, I mean, I’m gonna collect all of Sukuna’s remaining fingers. It’s dangerous to just leave them as is.”   

“But why ?” Principal Yaga presses.   

Gojo chuckles and taps you on the shoulder. “This is probably going to go on for a little while. Come. Let’s go wait over there. The principal likes to ramble every now and then.”   

You offer Itadori an encouraging smile. You obviously know what comes next, but that also means that you have full confidence in him. You know that he’ll pass Principal Yaga’s test and get accepted into Jujutsu High. It doesn’t seem you’ll be put through any interviews yourself… probably because you’re not Sukuna’s vessel, but you expect that most people are probably going to be pretty wary of you anyway. Since you’re an anomaly and all that. And since Sukuna couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.   

So, you watch. You watch as Itadori gets smacked around by one of Principal Yaga’s puppets, all the while having to answer the questions he keeps throwing at him nonstop. It’s definitely not fun to have to see your friend get beat up, but again, thanks to the knowledge you have of this world, you’re not worried. And it’s certainly not like anyone’s life is at risk right now.   

That won’t always be the case, though.   

“You pass,” Principal Yaga eventually states, and he cracks a small smile, even offering Itadori his hand so that he can stand up.   

Itadori smiles back at him. “Thank you. It’s nice to properly meet—”   

He promptly gets pummeled by the puppet again.   

“Oops,” Principal Yaga mumbles. “Sorry. I forgot to stop the incantation.”  

“Looks like everything went well,” Gojo muses. He peers down at you curiously. “But I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised. You didn’t look concerned at all. Weren’t you worried that he’d fail? In which case that would mean that his execution date would be pushed up.”  

You shake your head. “I believe in Itadori. I knew he’d be able to pull it off. And… I believe in you too, sensei. You said you’re the one that convinced the higher-ups in the first place, right? I can tell that you’ll protect Itadori. You wouldn’t let him be executed. I trust you completely.”  

You grin ear-to-ear, and even though you can’t see it, Gojo’s eyes briefly widen, underneath his black blindfold. Of course, it’s not the first time people have relied on him. Being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, it comes with the territory. But it’s strange that you’re already willing to put your full faith in him, despite not knowing anything of this new realm you’ve just ventured into.   

Admittedly, it’s rather endearing.  

“You’re exactly right,” Gojo chuckles, reaching out to gently pat your head. “Leave it all to me. I don’t intend to let any of my students get hurt on my watch. It’ll probably all seem overwhelming at first, but you won’t be alone. I promise.”   

Gojo Satoru is patting my head! %$%^*@^$!*!  

Your brain short-circuits for a few moments, and you briefly think that, honestly, you could probably die happy right now.   

Itadori approaches you while you’re still stuck in fangirl mode, and fortunately, you snap out of it in time to congratulate him for passing the principal’s test. Meanwhile, Gojo and Principal Yaga step off to the side.   

“The boy is one thing, but the girl, [Name],” Principal Yaga frowns. “I’ve never come across cursed energy like hers before. And you say that Sukuna himself expressed interest in her?”   

Gojo nods. “It’s even weirder than no one’s noticed her before. With that kind of energy, you would think she’d have stood out a long time ago. But she clearly hasn’t been trained in the ways of jujutsu. It’s almost like she sprung up one day, completely out of nowhere. But surely that kind of cursed energy can’t just randomly appear on the spot. It would make sense if she’d been born with this kind of power and had cultivated it over the years. Do you think it’s possible one of the great clans have been hiding her all this time?”  

“I suppose we can’t rule it out, but it wouldn’t make any sense. If that were the case, she would surely have been trained from a young age.”  

“Well, we’ll just have to look into it, I guess. It’s fine. Better to have her nearby so we can keep an eye on her. I knew from the moment I saw her that I couldn’t just let her go.”   

Gojo stares at you from afar, watching as you and Itadori happily converse. The two of you are so carefree and innocent. You have yet to be exposed to the horrors that the world of jujutsu has to offer. He knows he won’t be able to spare either of you from the bitter reality of things, but all the same, he’s going to fight for your futures.  

After a brief pause, Gojo smiles, then claps his hand together.   

“Alright! With that out of the way, let me show you guys to your dorms.”

“Perfect!” Itadori grins, stepping back to admire his handiwork. Namely, the giant poster of Jennifer Lawrence he just put up on the wall. “Man, these dorms are huge, huh? I wasn’t expecting us to have so much space!”   

“They’re nice,” you agree. “My new dorm is even bigger than my bedroom.”   

Both in this world, and back in the real world.   

“I’m just relieved I was able to make it through the principal’s interview. I wasn’t expecting those dolls of his to come to life! That was pretty crazy, huh?”   

“Y-Yeah. Who could’ve seen that one coming…?”   

“Anyways, Gojo was saying they’re gonna need me to help locate the rest of Sukuna’s fingers,” Itadori continues, adjusting the poster slightly. “‘Cause I’m not just a vessel, but some kind of radar, too. Honestly, I don’t get what’s happening with my body, but I guess there’s not much I can do about it at this point. I really don’t think Sukuna’s gonna cooperate, though. I doubt we’ll be able to come to an agreement that easily.”   

“I’m sure he wants to find the rest of his fingers, because he’s trying to regain his full strength. There’s no way he’d miss out on an opportunity to become more powerful. But… yeah. Be careful,” you nod gravely. “He definitely can’t be trusted.”   

“Why’s he so obsessed with you, anyway? Everyone keeps going on about how you have a whole bunch of cursed energy. Have you always been able to see curses and stuff?”   

“Uh…”   

You’re not sure how to respond. Technically, yes , as in, you’ve been able to see them from the moment you materialized in this world, but you’ve only been here for a solid few weeks. Perhaps you’re better off being honest this time.   

“Only recently,” you admit. “I think I started being able to see them roughly a few weeks ago. I noticed them right about when I transferred into our old high school. There were a couple of small curses hanging around and clinging to people from time to time. But I thought I was going crazy, so I didn’t mention it to anyone.”  

“Damn. That must have been scary. Oh,” he realizes. “Is that why you said you weren’t interested in joining the Occult Club? Because of all the weird stuff you kept seeing?”   

“Um, pretty much. I wasn’t sure whether or not it was all in my head, but I kind of wanted to keep my distance, just to be on the safe side. Sorry. I would’ve been upfront from the start, but… obviously, it’s a bit hard to believe. Especially since you weren’t able to see the curses with your own eyes.”   

Itadori smiles. “You don’t have to apologize. I get that you must have had a lot on your mind, and you’re right that it’d be a pretty difficult topic to bring up. Anyways, don’t worry! I’ll keep Sukuna away from you. It sounds like things are gonna get pretty complicated, but I’m gonna collect all those fingers so that no one else has to get hurt. Including you.”   

“Are you saying you’ll protect me?” you chuckle.   

“Of course! If you ever get scared, don’t hesitate to use me as a shield!”   

Itadori proudly flexes his bicep, and you giggle in response. You have no doubts that he’ll be looking after you along the way, because that’s just the kind of guy he is, but hopefully… you’ll be able to protect him too. You’d like to make his painful life at least a little bit easier.   

“By the way, you asked Gojo for a selfie earlier. I didn’t realize you liked him that much. I guess he is pretty cool, objectively speaking.” Itadori scrunches up his brows. “Is he the kind of guy girls are usually into?”   

“I think it depends. Girls like all kinds of guys. Especially strong, caring guys like you,” you grin.   

You were just being honest and trying to hype him up a bit. Itadori’s a friendly, extroverted guy, after all. You don’t even remember him ever looking embarrassed when you first watched the anime.  

Which is why you’re surprised to see him blushing.  

“R-Really?” he chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I feel like you’re just saying that. But thanks! I appreciate it. While we’re on the topic, I bet most guys would have a crush on you , [Name]! Because you’re so pretty and nice!”   

If there was water in your mouth, you would have probably spat it out right about now.   

You start melting into a little puddle of embarrassment, but thankfully, Fushiguro steps into the room and saves you from some of the humiliation.  

“You guys are so loud,” he grumbles. “And seriously, why’d they put you next door to me? There are a bunch of empty rooms to choose from.”   

“Oh, hey, Fushiguro!” Itadori waves. “Glad to see you look better now. Also, Gojo was saying it’d be more lively and fun if all our dorms were close by.”   

“Classes and missions are more than enough,” Fushiguro mutters, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He stops just in front of you, and of course, that crease in between his brows deepens.  

You strain a smile. “Um… yes? Is there something you wanted to say to me?”   

“Not really. You’re just kind of confusing, if I’m being honest. And you’re weirdly obsessed with Gojo.”   

“Only because he’s hot,” you protest. “I mean—dammit! Because he’s cool ! I like him because he’s cool, okay?!”   

Fushiguro makes no effort to hide his disapproval, and you let out a heavy sigh, eventually hanging your head in defeat. It’s no surprise he doesn’t trust you yet. Your circumstances are far from ordinary, and you even told Itadori outright to eat Sukuna’s finger. If you were in his position, you’d probably have your doubts too.  

Itadori taps both you and Fushiguro on the shoulders. “Hey, guys. [Name]’s selfie with Gojo earlier got me thinking. Now that we’re all gonna be classmates and dorm buddies, we should commemorate this with a photo or something. Right?”   

“I like that idea,” you smile.   

“I don’t ,” Fushiguro grimaces.  

“Okay, let’s all take a selfie together!” Itadori exclaims, and he proceeds to pull you and Fushiguro close—despite the latter’s protests—then he uses your phone to snap a picture of all three of you.   

Just like that, you have a new picture saved. Fushiguro is scowling irritably, of course, and your smile looks a little dorky because it all happened so spur-of-the-moment, but you decide that it’s good as it is. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.   

“I like this picture even more than the one I took with Gojo,” you beam. “I’m gonna make it my lock screen right now.”   

Fushiguro blinks. He wasn’t expecting such a bright, infectious smile. It’s just a selfie. Is it really worth making such a big deal over? He’s not sure why, but something about your expression makes it difficult for him to maintain his grumpy demeanor.   

Even though he doesn’t really want to admit it… you’re kind of cute.   

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Shovel Love

Snow tickled the tip of his nose as Jason fumbled with his keys. His gloves were too thick for his pockets, and his grocery bags made any maneuvering unnecessarily complicated. He was not dropping the cereals on the sidewalk. Half of it was covered in melted slush that would instantly destroy the package. He’d never live it down. 

So, he might have had to bite on his gloves, ignore the taste of leather and keep an arm elevated to balance his bags, but he did get his keys out without accident. 

The triumph was short-lived though, as the hair on the back of his neck suddenly tingled. 

“What do you want?” Jason asked, not looking away from the door. 

There was the faintest sound of snow crunching behind him. 

“I came to give a warning,” Nightwing hissed, his voice low and dark, as threatening as anything Jason had ever heard. 

And he had heard a lot of threats from his big brother. The perils of tugging Batman’s cape. 

“You’re a bit late for that,” Jason scoffed, a corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. “Already had the Arrows and most of the Titans give me their speech weeks ago. What took you so long?”

The scowl on his brother’s face deepened. 

Nightwing was the type of man that worked three superhero shifts and still tried to hold a day job. He was always in movement, always everywhere he needed to be. It made him reliable and popular with multiple generations of heroes at this point. But it also meant he had no roots anywhere. He got gossip later than most, and he was not always in a position to make good on that intel right away. Multiple crises owing.  

This was probably the first free moment he had gotten since he had learned that Jason was in a relationship with Roy Harper. 

Understandable. But Jason didn’t really care for that excuse. 

“I was busy. Others told me they’d already seen you, but I still wanted to show up for Roy.”

This time, Jason did snort. Sure. Everyone wanted to be there for Roy. And he had not ended up friendless in rehab either. God, he hated them sometimes. 

A gloved fist struck the door right next to his head. 

Jason turned around. Nightwing boxed him against the door. He was shorter, sure, but that did nothing to lessen the actual threat in his stance. Jason had seen him take down behemoths like Bane or Croc without a scratch after all.  

“Enough,” Dick growled. 

It was also hard to ignore the fact that Dick had shown up in armor while Jason only wore a winter coat for protection. And a bag of groceries hardly compared to escrima sticks with the power of cattle prods. 

“I don’t care what game you think you’re playing-”

“Not a game,” Jason bit out, irritated despite his best efforts. 

“When you break Roy’s heart, I will make you regret toying with my friend for another one of your fucked up taunts.”

“Not everything is about you.”

It took skills to convey an eye roll behind a domino mask. Nightwing managed effortlessly. 

“Of course not.” His voice turned snide. “When is it never not about Jason Todd with you?”

“Not even gonna dignify that one. So, you gonna break me in half if I hurt Roy. Cool. Message received. Are you done?”

Wrong thing to say. His dismissive tone was obviously interpreted wrong, because Nightwing bristled. 

“If you think I won’t-”

“Yeah, yeah, ten out of ten, Dick. But like I said, you ain’t the first one to give that speech. I’ve already been threatened to be skewered, deafened, decapitated, frozen in the speedforce, drowned, pulverized, thrown to a hell dimension, etc. etc. with the promise that it would make what the Joker did to me seem tame.”

Nightwing did twitch then, but it was a small thing, and quickly buried away if it was ever there. Jason didn’t bother putting stock in it.

“I guess no one really threatened lobotomy if you want to go there. Wait, no, one of his psychic teammates did. Look, at this point, just say you’re gonna beat me to death with your bare hands and save us both the time.”

Nightwing’s fists clenched, and his skin paled another shade. 

It could be anger, horror, any number of things. Jason had no intention to decipher it. 

The scar on his neck was throbbing, like it wanted Jason to remember. Funny how that always happened around heroes. 

“I really don’t care what a bunch of hypocrites like you think of me, Dick. If you wanna break your moral codes on me, go for it, you wouldn’t be the first. Hell, it wouldn’t even be your first time either.”

The frown slipped for a second, replaced by surprise, by outrage. God, Nightwing was winding himself up again, and Jason just really wanted to go put this fucking carton of milk in the fridge before it went bad. 

“Night, Dick. Glare at me through the windows if you still want to be intimidating, but I’m done talking. You’ll kill me, message received. Now, fuck off.”

And he twisted his keys in, pushing the door open and slipping inside in an instant. 

He slammed the door closed behind himself, and he snorted when the doorknob immediately rattled. Didn’t open without a key to the building. Obviously, Nightwing could break in. He probably wouldn’t though. He’d said what he wanted to, and Dick had never wanted to speak to Jason longer than necessary. 

He would definitely be doing some surveillance tonight though. He would be on high alert, probably under the impression that now that the main player had shown up, Jason would be putting his diabolical plans into action. Damn. He should close the curtains first thing as he enters, but that would be just inviting Dick to bring in every friend he had to mount a ‘rescue’. 

Jason liked this apartment. They had picked it together. It had enough space for them, was in the right part of town to be close to action when they went out as vigilantes, didn’t cost both their arms to buy…  

It was in Star City, but nothing could be perfect. 

Jason climbed out the last of the stairs and played with the keys for a second before he entered his home. 

Roy dropped the arrowhead he’d been working on, and stood up from the dinner table.

“Jaybird!”

Roy had a tendency to light up whenever he saw someone he cared about. It didn’t matter if Jason was leaving for a black out ops that would take a week or two or if he was going on a walk, the second he was back, Roy’s smile went wide and the knots of tension in his body all went slack at the same time. 

It didn’t matter how many times Jason came back, Roy exuded relief every time. 

(Not a lot of people stayed for Roy.)

The grocery bags found their way to the kitchen counter. The carton of milk could wait. 

“Hey,” Jason said as he grabbed onto his partner’s hips, “missed me?” 

“Yup,” Roy chirped, right before he leaned forward and met Jason with a gentle kiss. 

For a second, all was right in the world. And because he was Jason Todd, that feeling truly only lasted a second. He wanted to abandon himself in his lover’s arms, those beautiful biceps that pulled incredibly powerful bows to nail insane targets from equally insane distances. Even if he did not deserve that kind of peace, Jason was too greedy not to want it. But he could already feel someone’s eyes on them. Huh. That really did fuck up the mood, didn’t it?

They parted. 

“Who was it this time?” Roy asked after a moment, his shoulders dropping in exhaustion. 

Jason offered the smallest smile. “Dear old Dickiebird. He’s probably watching us as we speak.”

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. He briefly closed his eyes, and muttered some absolutely filthy curses that would have made a sailor blush. Then, with a determined stride, he marched right up to their living room’s window. He made a show of scanning the night, then flipped off the figure perched on the rooftop opposite to theirs. 

Jason devolved into giggles. Giggles! Him! And in front of a witness too. It was a good thing no one would ever believe Roy that Jason was capable of anything other than snarls and sneers. 

The funniest part of all these threats was that all these paragons somehow thought Jason would still be alive after he lost the last person to ever care about him. Was he supposed to care if they chose to spit on his corpse or reduce it to ash? It’d only help make sure Jason would not come back again.

***

Nightwing’s visit was nothing out of the ordinary, besides the tardiness. Jason had a reputation. It pissed Roy off to no end how so many people would parade around their place now and offer him unconditional support in kicking Jason to the curb if needed. Jason honestly would have thought it was kind of sweet, if it was not disgustingly hypocritical. 

Roy had once been the black sheep of the hero community. 

But the blackest sheep of them all wore a Red Hood. 

Also, on occasion, an apron to cook. A cheesy, horny one that said ‘Kiss the cock’ with a cartoony rooster on the front. Roy always waggled his eyebrows at Jason when he wore it. What was he supposed to do? A man was weak. 

At least, the horny promises in those eyes usually waited after they had eaten whatever Jason had slaved over in his pots and pans. 

Tonight’s menu was a honey glazed salmon that had been priced just in that sweet spot of affordable on sale they always looked for. It did look good, if Jason said so himself. He poked at it with his knife, his mind on other things. He should not wait any longer. It was almost the twenty-fourth. Any later and it would hurt worse. 

He hated himself a bit more for it though. 

“Hey, Roy?” Jason said softly. 

Roy hummed lazily, blowing over the steaming piece of fish. “Jaybird? What is it?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make it to Queen’s for Christmas Dinner. ”

Roy froze. He stared, uncomprehending, his fork still suspended in the air with a piece of salmon, held in a tightly clenched hand. He stopped breathing. His eyes filled with an emotion that was so rare in him. 

Fear, in a way no army of mimes or evil robots or space dragons could ever evoke. 

“I got a lead on the trafficking ring,” Jason said. 

The shift was immediate. Whiplash even. Roy nodded, mind set. 

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Jason made a show of hesitating. The last thing he wanted was to pull his partner away from the people he loved. Especially when things had been so rough between them before. It would do no one any favor if Roy bailed on them now.  

“You should go see your family.”

“Jason,” Roy scoffed. 

“They wouldn’t be happy if I pulled you away from the holidays for work.”

A flash of fiery emotion burned through Roy’s voice. “So what? I should let you do this without backup because Ollie wouldn’t get into the Christmas Spirit otherwise?”

“We already scouted things. We don’t need to both be there to crash the operation. I’ll be on frequency. If I need the backup, I can call the rest of the birds. They’ll show up.”

They wouldn’t, because Jason would not tell them anything. But there was a slight possibility that they would have shown up if they knew the trafficking ring was legit and not a trap. 

“I don’t like this, Jaybird. We’re a team…”

“I’ll be fine. Nothing will happen to me. And it’s better this way. Do you really think the arrows wanted me polluting their dinner table? I can see Queen’s glare from here.”

“So you should be alone on Christmas instead,” Roy whispered miserably. “Jaybird… ”

Guilt started to gnaw at Jason’s bone, but he held firm. He wrapped his arms around his man and placed a light kiss on his cheek. 

“I’ll be okay, Roy. Not my first time. Trust me, you won’t miss anything busting up scum’s kneecaps. Okay, except maybe some catharsis, but we can do that any other time. Just go spend the time with your family. I’ll be there when you come back. What will you do with the gifts you’ve bought otherwise? Come on, Roy. You’ve been looking forward to that dinner for months.”

Which was exactly why Jason had timed everything to be unavailable at the last minute. He had taken the hints a while ago. He was not going to ruin things for Roy to impose on people that hated him. 

***

Jason did not react to the sound of their bedroom door slowly opening. 

He pretended not to hear Roy’s sharp intake of air, or his sigh of relief. They did not poke at each other’s open wounds. They’d never survive if they started acting like their families. For all Jason was the biggest stain on superhero society, that spot had once belonged to Roy. Blame was an insidious game. It snuck up on you. It made fathers throw their kids out in the street. So, they just didn’t. 

Jason pretended to stir only when the bed dipped, because it would be completely nonsensical for a bat not to notice. 

(Roy, of course, knew.)

(They knew a lot of things about each other that they never put into words.)

“Had fun?” he mumbled into his pillow. 

Roy pressed himself against Jason’s back, warm, almost feverish. His arms circled Jason’s waist, his nose tickled the middle of Jason’s back. Like he didn’t want to risk Jason seeing his face. 

“Yeah. You? Wiped out the whole operation?”

“Purged the whole thing. Got a bunch of kids to their parents, or the cops for those who lived out of town. ”

A faint tension seemed to fall into the room. 

Jason should not have said that. 

Roy’s body was trembling. 

“They put up a plate for Lian… ”

Oh, Roy. 

“Dinah gave a speech. It was…” Roy sniffed. “It was really pretty. Lian would have loved it. Everyone ended up crying. Fuck, I… I really would have given up everything for her to be there with us then. I… I would have wanted you there, Jaybird.”

Jason bit his lips, staring ahead at their bedroom wall. Anywhere but back.

“Sorry, Roy.”

Should he have gone anyway? In his guts, he knew it would have been a disaster. Everyone else would have been so pissed if he had witnessed their moment. He was well aware of what Queen thought of him. He’d hissed it to him once. 

Why in the name of all that was good was he the one that came back to life? 

Jokes on Queen, Jason had been having those thoughts long before he and Roy ever became an item. Before the whole of the hero community seemingly rallied behind Roy for once in their goddamned lives. 

As Robin, he had died under the impression that he had been loved. That he had been a good hero, and that he had had a better run than most kids in his circumstances would have. 

And then he had woken up in his own coffin. 

How many of them had told him he had wasted every opportunity to be welcomed back? 

To what? He’d thought about asking them again and again. To a father who had disowned him in death, turned him into a cautionary tale for the other sidekicks? To a community that had forgotten him? To a battle that featured all the same monsters, only bolstered by even more abominations like Professor Pyg? 

Jason had died thinking he had been loved, and some cruel cosmic force had decided to show him how wrong he had been. 

Batman had told him, between even more lectures, that it was natural that a father would be filled with righteous fury at the death of his son. That it was expected he’d try to retaliate. To kill his son’s killers. 

Funny that, right? But Jason had also forgotten how Bruce had claimed not to be Jason’s father. His fucking fault for getting it wrong. For letting himself believe. For giving Batman a second chance, one desperate chance to show Jason had not been just a fool to believe three years of partnership meant something. 

He had long stopped being annoyed whenever someone got his motives wrong. He had been screaming everything he wanted and needed and was trying to accomplish, and not one of them got it right. Half the bats thought he had tried to force Batman to kill the Joker, for fuck’s sake. 

(The irony of them thinking Bruce needed to be forced to kill someone made Jason’s scar ache.)

(The irony of them thinking he had only come back from the dead once .)

“Do you want to go see her tomorrow?” Jason asked. 

Roy nodded against his back, stifling another bout of sobbing. Tightening his grip as if he would drown without that touch. 

“We’ll buy her a bouquet of daffodils and white lilies.”

“And red carnations.”

“Yes. Those too.”

The keening sound Roy made threatened to rip Jason’s heart in two. He felt himself shudder, his insides growing cold as he placed his hands over Roy’s, as he leaned into his partner’s touch. 

“Roy, I’m here,” he whispered urgently.  

“Don’t leave me, Jaybird. Please, don’t leave me. I can’t lose anyone else. I’m sorry. I know they hate you, I keep telling them to knock it off, but they never listen. They told me again tonight. They keep saying it’s Jade all over again. It’s not. I know it’s not. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”

“I’m here,” he repeated. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly, he managed to twist himself inside Roy’s dead grip, managed to turn around to face his partner in crime and in life.

“Everyone leaves. Even Kori,” Roy whispered, despair choking him.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m here. Roy, I’m here. I won’t leave and I won’t die. I love you.”

Roy gave him a kiss mixed with tears. “I love you.”

Jason was certain that more heroes would come out of the woodwork and posture at him eventually. They would threaten and reason and bargain and every other thing they could think of to protect Roy from Jason. 

But when he held Roy in his arms after another nightmare, another beautiful dream where Lian was alive, another listless night when his arms itched with cravings , Jason knew he would be there until the day Roy got sick of him.

Like everyone else. 

But not a moment sooner. 

[agrlsname]

Thank you @therealsaintscully for the tag! I'm soon about to post what might be my very last fic, so it's quite fitting to look back on my journey now.

How many works do you have on ao3?

38 – all Johnlock, except for one GO fic. On New Year's Eve I will post number 39!

What’s your total word count?

371,360 (will soon top it off with another 221 words ;))

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What Friends Do (by FAR), Who I Really Am (personal fave), The General Idea, Coldness/Heat, Tomorrow's Song

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

At first I responded to every single one! And I still try to respond to every single person. But now, I sometimes only respond to the last one if it's a reader who's commented on every chapter and I get all the comments at once. I like staying connected to the readers, that's one of the most fun parts about fandom!

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

It has to be This Is Your Song. I mean, there's another one within a series that end in an angsty cliffhanger, but MCD surely has to take the prize?

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Oh my, nearly all of them have happy endings – so what would count as happier than happy..? Maybe it's actually the one that isn't posted yet – stay tuned for the resolution of the New Year's Kiss series!

Do you write crossovers?

Nope. I've written a fusion though (Johnlock and Moulin Rouge!).

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yup. Some people get really angry at John in What Friends Do and they take it out on me. It's interesting because many MANY others adore the story with all their hearts! I even wrote a sequel from John's POV just to try to get people to understand, but the haters didn't understand anyway.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Even though at the beginning I said I'd never, half of my works are now rated E or M. What kind? Um, is "emotional, gay sex" a genre?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I hope not!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Many of them, into five different languages! Coolest thing ever.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I think I'm too pedantic for that. I've loved working with my beta on some poem translations, though, that The Sky is Full of Fiddles is based on.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

38 fics – you all know it's Johnlock, right? There are others that I love, but nothing can ever compare.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I don't have WIPs! I'm too much of a control freak and perfectionist when it comes to writing – I want to be able to change the beginning when I'm writing the ending. I don't even have unpublished WIPs – I hate the idea of leaving works unfinished. If I was still in those first years of writing frenzy, when I was single and didn't have a child, I'd have expanded on This Time – but as it is, I knew that I wouldn't have the time to do it justice. So I purposely ended on a cliffhanger that would still allow it to stand on its own the way it is.

What are your writing strengths?

Emotions, according to my beta! If you ask me, I'd say describing things – often emotions, I suppose – in new, poetic ways that play on different senses and therefore make them immediate. It's something I love reading myself, anyway, so it's something I've been practicing for... well, decades now. I'd like to think I've gotten at least somewhat good at it.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm weirdly bad at coming up with the small details that aren't important, but needed. A recent example is I needed a character to text another with an invented problem to try to get him to come over. It wasn't at all important what the problem was, but it also couldn't be just anything; it had to be in line with his character. I could not for the life of me come up with this problem myself – eventually my husband did it for me. So those kinds of details in my stories are rarely from my own brain!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Hmm, well, I've tried not to do that. As a reader I find it annoying to have to look things up, or scroll down to the notes. I have three fics in which characters aren't English; in This Is Your Song I added a couple of "Bonjour"s for flavour, which is about as far as my own French knowledge reaches... In the Fiddles series they're Swedes and speak my mother tongue, but I've written everything in English except for the words that English doesn't have (like for example "polska", a kind of dance), and at the very end, some song lyrics that are then translated into English in the end notes that come immediately after. I did want to add that song for flavour, but I didn't want it to be annoying.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock! I started in the aftermath of season 4 back in January 2017 and then couldn't stop.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

I'm wondering whether I will come back to fic writing at a later point, but for another fandom. I've long wanted to write more for GO, although I already have written one fic. It would probably be a lot of fun to write for OFMD too. Doctor Who maybe? I don't know, it intimidates me to write for a new fandom where I don't yet know the characters as well as I know Sherlock and John.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

This question is too cruel! There are so many of them that I love. Maybe I have to say The Sky is Full of Fiddles, after all – it holds such a special place in my heart for many reasons that go beyond the story itself (although that's true for several fics). Other faves are Your Daughter, The Zebra Sheets and of course Who I Really Am, which I'm liking enough to turn it into a novel I'm now trying to get published. See, I couldn't pick one!!

I'm on Tumblr way too sporadically to have any idea of who's already done this and who hasn't, so I don't dare tag anyone... Feel free to take it and tag me if you feel like it!

[just-a-itty-bitty-kitty]

Maybe Wild and/or Beast for the ask game? :0

I dunno guys,,,, I think she kinda wild,,,,,

anyways ahahah im so funny hahahah SO

I've been lowkey dreading this post because, well,,, I don't really get the Wild, I don't think. I mean, I understood what her chapter was about, but. I feel like there's something more to her that I don't understand? Maybe it's because the way Narrator acts in the chapter steals away my attention from her. He's uh. especially villainy. Very antagonistic towards Quiet, which is unusual. Even in chapters like damsel or spectre, He sorta just,, i dunno, gives up?? hopes we come to our senses?? but here it's almost like He's unusually desperate, and it almost feels like he hates us. I think, maybe because to Him the princess is a personification of evil, and yet in this chapter we and the princess are one. So He must see us as an evil as well. Which is crazy paired up with the visual of the wounded Wild, really shows how stuck in His beliefs Echo really is.

And the whole conflict of the chapter is honestly heartbreaking. I think Quiet really values their personhood, even on the cusp of their awakening, they cling to it. And the mere existence of the option to separate from Wild makes me think that they don't really want to stay as one, even if they decide to go through with it. But that's not the case for the Wild. She views herself and Quiet as one, so if they separate from her, she would lose part of herself. No matter what, one of them hurts the other, and yet the choice is in Quiet's hands. Kinda parallels the final battle, huh? But what I really love about this is that no matter what choice is made, there's always hope. We can either stay together and find something beautiful, or separate but learn to live with it.

Except for Narry. He's fucked either way. L bozo

anyways- KITTY KITTY KITTY HOLY SHIT KITTY TIME MEOW MEOW MEOW I love her. Absolute silly. The kitty cat. I wanna scratch her tummy. I have so many headcanons about her and other princesses. Basically I think Beast is to the princesses what (fanon)Hunted is to the voices. Big mama bear vibes. Esp to Witch and Thorn!! I like to imagine her going through a little identity crisis before figuring out her role as the protector 👉👈 seriously I love her sm and I can't wait for Den update. Certified meow meow.

[wewerebornsextuplets]

thinking about the kiru and kara dynamic again. in particular karas view of her is very amusing to me

[littlelav107]

born to endlessly imagine every scenario relating to 600 strike forced to be updated on current events in order to write a good editorial 😔

@philosophicalpug thoughts on angst heaven in tags

@z1ish you said you liked the angst well guess what (tags)

@yumewayuki I managed to mix up x and y intercept but not this apparently

[amanitacurses]

Let me guess, you no longer want to draw requests because the first person who asked you grossed you out?

I have no idea where this is coming from, genuinely.

My requests have been closed for a while. If I'm taking requests I'll make a post, then take the post down after I'm done taking them (so I don't get overwhelmed) - I haven't had a post up for requests at the very least a week (but I think longer) as far as I recall. Next time I feel the vibes for requests, I'll make a post - they aren't closed forever, but they aren't constantly open.

The last time I took requests I actually did do the one I received first - so I don't know what this ask is referring to with that.

Also I don't know why anyone would have grossed me out - I didn't get any asks that would be considered gross (and I'm not investigating askers' blogs,,,). Also I'd block anyone that legitimately weirded me out (or otherwise didn't pass the vibe check)

There's quite a few requests I just didn't vibe with, or I'm holding onto to do at a later point. I'm not obligated to do any requests, if you're upset I didn't draw yours ┐⁠(⁠‘⁠～⁠`⁠;⁠)⁠┌

I got a few different requests and I quite honestly just wasn't taking requests at that moment, so made a post so people would hold off until next time I'm taking them (which could be in a few days, or a few weeks - whenever the vibe hits). I added in my tags the dm part so people would know that too. It wasn't targeted at anyone, I just wanted to make people aware.

To end this, why would you send this to someone? Like, I don't think this is how we should talk to others, it's in such bad faith and unwarranted. It's very guilt trippy, I don't know if that's intentional or what, but I can't interpret it as anything but. I don't know you, I don't know what you're referring to - I had absolutely no thoughts, head empty in regards to you prior to this ask because I don't know you (completely neutral). Me not taking asks right now clearly upset you, but that's for you to work on with yourself - it's not me, a random artist's place to placate/reassure you. I can tell you for sure no one made me close my asks, they've been closed, and I open them when I'm in the mood to get more (I have to be in the headspace for it).

No one did anything wrong, no one caused me to close my asks, maybe don't send stuff like this to people

[flowery-king]

Okay, first of all I have to say that Koda is pretty freaking adorable and is absolutely perfect for Philip. I really like Koda's character because to be frank, all the other OC love interests I've seen for Philip are basically really bad self inserts while Koda actually has substance.

Also between Hunter and Luz, who would be the better wingman for Philip?

Gahh thank you! That really means a lot <3

And I'm gonna be honest I feel like they all share one braincell when it comes to dating, I think they'd be the opposite of wingmen to each other unintentionally pfff

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

I was just listening to a song I used to love while we were friends. I listened to it so often, we talked so often, it became the background music to our relationship.

I'm listening to it while I knit. I often forget that I started knitting because of you. I remembered tonight. It's strange, I never knitted anything for you. I've knitted for other loved ones, rarely for myself, but never for you. I remembered you showing me the amazing things you made, and I wished I could get to that level of skill. But at that time, you had to explain to me how to purl because I couldn't get it.

Everything reminds me of you in a terrible way. Everything I do is an echo of you. I started painting so that I could paint for you. I started knitting to bond with you. I hear your voice in the music I listen to. You're haunting the things that I love. Will I ever make a brush stroke or stitch without you on my mind?