#though that would be so mUCH more complicated lmao

[pseudophan]

wait i'm new here and i'm curious, if you're okay talking about it what happened before in the uk / why did you move back?

longass story but i've complained about this whole ordeal so much on here i think if i do the whole thing again people will get mad at me like omg we get it. anyway here it is again:

i moved to england (milton keynes specifically which all brits find very funny) with my mum in 2016 to go to high school because norway requires you to do six thousand subjects even if you "specialise" in something and i just did not have that in me. every subject combined with an instant fail if you miss more than like three lessons? absolutely the fuck not. in mk i did a level 3 creative media btec which is known as a bit of a joke because it won't make you kill yourself as much as a-levels, but lowkey i enjoyed it SO much. i've heard media btecs are very hit or miss depending on your tutors but mine were really good! half my class was only there because they flunked out of their a-levels and wanted something easy, but by like week two i'd say most of them were really into it

after college i started a film and tv production course at uni in london, none of the fancy unis because rip my grades lmao but it was a good time. year one went alright, but then when i applied for a loan for the second year months went by and i didn't hear anything until literally DECEMBER, halfway through the year, when they got back to me and were like oh sorry you don't qualify for the loan. oh and we're also taking back the money you got for the first year, so now you're in immediate debt to us for that and to the uni directly for the months you just did where we just couldn't be bothered to tell you you didn't qualify for any funding. hope this helps!

basically because i'd already lived in the uk for a couple of years before university i could apply as an english student rather than an international one, which is much cheaper so that was great. i also, IN THEORY, qualified for a loan through the student loans company, which is, IN THEORY, much easier and less annoying than the norwegian one because you don't start paying it back right away, you can wait until you're actually making x amount of money. all good. the problem was that the only reason we could afford to just fuck off and move to england in the first place was that my mum got to keep her norwegian job and work from home, meaning we weren't sure if i DID actually qualify for the loan because the way she was paying taxes was like kind of confusing. i still don't know exactly how it works, but i guess you pay it all to one country and then they split it? cause you're effectively paying taxes to both norway and the uk but you're not supposed to have to pay More so idk. who knows. not me. but yeah so we called them Multiple times to ask if i was in fact eligible for a loan and every time they were like yeah it's no problem. my bad for not getting it in writing by the way, always do that. then like i said they fully accepted my loan for the first year after looking through all our documents so clearly it WAS in fact fine, or at least enough people working there believed it was.

i have no idea what actually happened with the second year application, or which one got evaluated wrong. might have been the first one, might be the second, i'll probably never know. the real kicker though is that if they just got back to me earlier i could have gotten a norwegian loan and it would probably be fine, but because they were months late i only had like two weeks until the application deadline for the norwegian one and because the whole situation was so complicated and confusing, and i was struggling really hard with any paperwork or essays because of my super cool then-still-undiagnosed adhd, i just didn't have it in me to fight it. i was like whatever, guess i have to just drop out. didn't actually have to drop out, they suspended me for unpaid fees. i kept going until they turned off my key card though and banned me from campus lol, my tutors were just like eh keep showing up until it doesn't work anymore, it's not like they can suspend you out any more 😭

fuck knows what my plan was after dropping out. in my head i was like, well i can probably get a shitty job for a bit and yeah it probably won't go very well but it's not like i've tried, who knows! and then uhhhh covid happened LMFAO, so nevermind that shit! turns out getting a job in covid lockdown london is Difficult. my mum moved back in the middle of covid and a few months later i had to follow and now half a decade later here we are </3

[lokh]

also i think if roleswap laios and canon laios met theyd immediately start fighting.

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

if Crozier had a nickel for every time someone close to him kept a mortal wound secret from him he'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's definitely enough to give him some very specific trauma for the rest of his life

[toffeebrews]

DON'T KILL ME PLEASE!!! i think i have some unpopular opinions in there so-also i don't hate any ships (aside from the ones listed) at worst i feel neutral about them!!

another big disclaimer: I do realize this could be very wrong haha i don't know everything about these aus and I don't claim my opinions to be correct or in anyway canon.

i would love to explain the reasoning for all of them heheh (also ngl only know like... maybe half of these aus more than surface level so most of this was based off vibes alone. im not doing research for all the aus just for this chart im sorry LMAOO)

sorry bad sanses enjoyers 😭

Ship chart from:

Blank chart:

(remember to credit or ill skin you! joking but do credit)

[reenaria]

currently having a queer identity crisis on this accursed holiday

[purple-plum-petals]

Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣

⊱ Blood-stained Lips ⊰ || Mr. Scarletella X Reader

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Character(s): Mr. Scarletella (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (MC’s Lore and Specifically Scarletella Rain Ending), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror Elements), Mild Jealousy, Slightly Suggestive. Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Light Angst (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~2,140 words Request: “Hi! Is it okay if I ask for another homicipher fic? I just got all the endings, and I'm obsessed. What about Scarletta trying to be physically affectionate with MC after seeing how protective Mr. Crawling is with them (perhaps even secretly peeking/knowing how often the crawling man hugged you, you two petting or shaking each other's heads, and using the word "cute" on each other.) I need Scarletta jealous 🫣” Author’s Note: Okay so, like… Mr. Scarletella is probably one of the more nerve-wracking characters for me to write for, but I absolutely adored this ask, so I gave writing him in drabble format a shot! (It’s also pretty funny how the fandom has unanimously agreed that Mr. Crawling and Mr. Scarletella would not get along and would be actively antagonistic toward each other lmao). I think his dynamic with the MC is fascinating… the whole parasocial relationship the two of them have going on throughout the game is such a unique choice (love the simp energy he gives off, too, since I wasn’t expecting that from his character haha). This ended up being kind of suggestive at the end?? Nothing too crazy or anything, just him being very happy about being able to touch you. Anyway, I hope this isn’t too OOC – enjoy! 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡

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Even though his memories had been forgotten, parts of himself and his identity erased after you successfully defeated him, Mr. Scarletella occasionally found himself thinking of moments he couldn’t even recall witnessing. 

In his mind, he sees you with another resident of the realm, their long black hair cascading down their form while their laugh echoes through an empty corridor. He sees their fingers threading through your hair, moving their hands up and down along your scalp, and tousling your locks… 

Mr. Scarletella hears your laughter fill the space, too. The sound is light and airy, and he finds his chest tightening at the hazy memory. It’s an uncomfortable feeling and certainly was not one he enjoyed experiencing. It almost felt like knives being shoved repeatedly into his torso, a stinging and aching sensation that spread throughout his entire body from a singular point.

Almost absentmindedly, his hand comes to rest on the left side of his chest, the side where a heart would be located if he possessed one like you did. Mr. Scarletella hears a gentle murmur interrupt his thoughts, a noise that cuts through the fog in his mind like a saw slicing through flesh and sinew. 

“You okay?” Your voice echoes, and his pitch-black eyes dart down to meet with yours. You’re holding a red umbrella – his very heart and soul – in your hands. Your hold isn’t painful, nor is it gentle. It was perfect, just like you, he thought to himself. 

Rain drips down the water-resistant material of the umbrella that was permanently stained a bright, bloody red, and it falls onto the clear rubber of your raincoat before sliding down your form. Both the umbrella and your coat effectively keep your body dry from the elements. Mr. Scarletella, on the other hand, was completely soaked, having no issue walking beside you while the rain clung to his clothing and chilled his skin.  

If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the heat of your body spreading throughout his chest and warming his form from the inside out. Oh, how happy he would be if the small flame within him sparked into something more, forming a fiery inferno inside his body. Even if you were to burn him, set an uncontrollable blaze within him that only left an empty husk behind, he would be content.  

Your brows are furrowed while you crane your neck back to look at him, the sound of rain around the two of you, effectively breaking up the long stretch of silence. He was acting a bit strange today, you thought to yourself. While the man dressed in red was never really normal in the conventional sense, he was much more quiet today than usual. 

Mr. Scarletella’s gaze used to be immensely nervewracking, his hollow stare once being able to cause the hair on the back of your neck to stand on edge, but you had grown used to it after spending so much time together. The two of you were in your old realm, the one you left behind to stay in the other world. You were fairly close to the haunted apartments he used to call his home and the site where you would dump the bodies of anyone unfortunate to cross your path… The start of everything that led you to where you are now. 

“You quiet… What you thinking about?” You ask him, shifting the hold of the umbrella in your hand to the other. You hadn’t brought your weapon today, wanting to give Mr. Scarletella a chance to experience a “typical” date, one that didn’t consist of violence and murder for a change. However, he had been in a daze since the two of you arrived, and that was somewhat out of character for him. 

Shifting your stance to better face him, your feet sink slightly into the mud beneath you. You look down at your boot-clad feet and frown. While you had grown used to being in a constant state of uncleanliness since the other world didn’t have showers readily or easily available, it was still quite annoying to clean mud from the soles of your shoes. This was the type of mud that threatened to pull your shoe from your foot if you were to try tugging on it, but you pushed your frustration to the side to focus on the man in front of you. 

Mr. Scarletella hums and reaches his hand out to your head, placing his palm against your hair, and you freeze. Your hair sticks to his deathly cold hand, almost as if static electricity was coursing through his fingers. 

It was soft under his skin, your hair, yet he could feel that some knots had begun to form near the base of the strands. Then, he begins to rub his hand back and forth, effectively messing your hair up even more. Your mind blanks at his sudden movement, the action reminding you of Mr. Crawling.

“Why… you touch me?” You ask, staring up at him as the rain begins to fall even harder, your grip on the umbrella in your hand tightening around the handle. The rain was so heavy that you could barely see into the distance, the horizon completely covered in a thick, gray mist. A sudden gust of wind blew Mr. Scarletella’s red hair, and within his usually hollow eyes swirled something you had never seen within them before. 

It reminded you of a storm rolling in across the ocean waves, a variety of emotions spiraling within his ashen irises. His hand never once leaves your body, instead sliding down the side of your head to cup your cheek in his palm. Whenever he touched you, it felt like TV static against your flesh, and you could see white-and-black dots begin to dance across your vision as a light hum filled your ears. 

Mr. Scarletella’s flesh is cold, and it reminds you of a corpse the chill his touch leaves in its wake. His head tilts to one side and he whispers to you, his voice barely audible above the rain crashing around you, “I want you – want to touch you.” 

Before you can even speak or formulate a response to his words, he quickly pulls his hand away from your skin. It felt like you had burnt him, yet he found himself not minding the stinging sensation that danced across his flesh. His hand dropped lifelessly to his side before he muttered an apologetic, “Sorry. Shouldn’t have touched you.”

After taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you shake your head and tell him, “...You okay,” before turning on your heel to walk away. You glance at him over your shoulder, his form becoming further soaked from the storm. It was kind of amusing, you thought, seeing such a previously powerful entity look like a stray, sopping-wet cat. 

Eventually, you gesture for him to come with one hand, the order of, “Follow me.” coming out of your lips, loud enough for him to hear.

He teleports to you before you can even finish your sentence, staring down at you with those unnerving eyes of his as he waits to see where you want to go. A huff of air forces its way out of your nose, chuckling at his obedience before you lightly graze his hand with your nails. It’s strange touching him, his form more like an illusion than a body made of flesh and blood. 

The two of you make your way across the waterlogged fields and flooded, muddy roads. Your footsteps splash in the puddles beneath you as you walk while Mr. Scarletella moves without making a single noise, merely a ghost in this world. Soon, however, the abandoned apartments come into view, and you lead him inside the old concrete structure. 

You pause as soon as your feet make contact with the cracked floor of the building, making sure that you can’t hear the sound of another living being within the hollow corridors. You close the umbrella when nothing catches your attention, making sure to shake it a few times to try and remove the raindrops that have accumulated on its surface. You watch as the water falls to the ground, making small, dark grey circles on the concrete. 

Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Mr. Scarletella watches you in return while holding the umbrella, waiting patiently for you to say something as a shiver runs down his spine. His hands that were hanging at his sides were closed, and he was clenching and unclenching his fingers almost like he was fighting the urge to place his palms against your skin once more.  

You can’t help but chuckle at his demeanor, placing the now-closed umbrella down so it was leaning against the wall. You do the same, leaning back on the wall before you hold your arms out to him, saying with a small smirk, “You can touch me.”

You jumped slightly at the speed at which he appeared in front of you. His body hunched over yours while he watched your expression intently, his black eyes partially hidden behind the thick curtain of red hair that cast shadows across his sickly complexion. Mr. Scarletella places his palm on your head, telling you smoothly, “Thank you.”

One of his hands begins to tentatively pat your skull while he enjoys the feeling of your hair against his palm. Then, his other hand soon joins, and you close your eyes while you allow him to pat you like a dog. It felt a bit demeaning in a way, but also strangely comforting, and it reminded you of one of the friendliest residents of the other world you had met. 

Your eyes flutter shut almost out of habit, allowing the man in front of you to enjoy the rare moment with you. His hands started out resting against the top and sides of your head, the movement of palms against your hair causing it to become messy and sticking up because of the static he created. 

Then, they tentatively travel to your face, cupping your cheeks before he brushes his thumbs underneath your eyes. You jolt a bit when his cold hand brushes against your neck, swallowing harshly when you feel him trace a finger down your SCM. Your breathing hitches while he explores your skin, and your teeth dig harshly into your bottom lip in response. 

Then, you feel his touch pause, and Mr. Scarletella whispers against your neck, the pad of his thumb swiping against your lips, “...blood.” 

“Oh, uh…” You open your eyes and look at him, seeing the way he’s staring up at you while his face remains close to your jugular. Your hand goes up to your lips, and you wince when you feel the soreness. When you pull your fingers away from your mouth, you see the blood that clings to them. Geez, you didn’t think you had bit your lip that hard. 

You tell Mr. Scarletella, patting his head much like how he had been doing with you, “I’m okay. Don’t stop.”

He smiles widely and lights up at your words. Suddenly, he grabs your face and hastily presses his lips to yours. Your eyes grow at the sudden act, and a strangled noise leaves your throat. It wasn’t a bad noise, per se, you just hadn’t been expecting that from him. Typically, he waited until you permitted him to do that... He must have been too excited to hold back this time around.

You were speechless when he pulled away from you, noticing your blood that was now smeared across his lips. He licks it away, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips before he asks you, “...You happy?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, reaching up to place your hand on his head while your giggles echo throughout the empty hallways, patting him softly. Mr. Scarletella’s smile falters while he focuses on the feeling of your touch, on burning the memory of your expression and the sweet sound of your laughter into his mind. It made him feel strange knowing he was the one making you react in such a way, but it was good.

He wanted to do it more. 

“Yes, I happy. You cute.” You reply, smiling warmly at him while he stares at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I like you.” He says, sounding almost breathless as his body hunches over more, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hands explore the rest of your body, stroking and touching and petting you. Mr. Scarletella didn’t want this moment to end. 

You chuckle as his breath fans against your skin, telling him gently as you feel his fingers work out any knots in your hair, “I know.” 

“I like you, I like you, I like you…” He murmurs against your flesh, “I love you.”

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[okartichoke]

ace avian. that’s what we’re calling this 🗣️🗣️🗣️

please let me know if you have any thoughts or suggestions or input or anything! i’m happy to bounce ideas around (i'll post DL-6 someday soon i swear)

link to masterpost || explations below cut

shoutout to the anon who sent in that ask bc i seriously fell in love with blue jay phoenix. SHOUTOUT TO TAKAHE PHOENIX TOO THO takahe phoenix, you will forever be in my heart and im glad you existed <3333,, (maybe in this au he’s got some loving adoptive takahe parents :3) (YKNOW WHAT YEAH that’s canon now)

but yeah, flight-avoidant jay phoenix still lends itself well to the common-man hardworking underdog vibe i want from him. speaking of flight-avoidant...

Phoenix's relationship with flying:

It's a bit complicated. Basically, Phoenix can fly, but he historically chooses not to. From the lack of any practice, he's an INCREDIBLY weak flier. (That hovering is really all he can manage)

For one, he's still afraid of heights. Can't help that. This fear means he was less inclined to practice flying, which made him a weaker flier. And being a weaker flier, in turn, made his fear of heights worse. And so on, in a loop. With flightless parents too (it's canon now it's canon), there's even less of a reason to learn to fly. At some point, not flying might've even become something he stuck with out of stubbornness lol, knowing Phoenix.

(I will soon be making a couple small world building posts, but) flying isn't necessary to get around in their society. Convenient, sure, but Phoenix realized he could make do without, and so he did. Phoenix, you icon. Slay. 💅💅

i know this probably isn't the popular take with wing AUs??, but Phoenix being flightless (or at least semi-flightless) sounded like a really fun take on the idea to me. His name is irony at its peak. I also look forward to exploring how other characters react to him not flying. The prosecutors are going to have so many cheap insult opportunities.

As I mentioned though, he still uses his wings a LOT, though. He's much more emotive with them than most people. His sarcastic inner-dialogue remarks are also betrayed by his wings lmao

I also imagine bird-folk never really invented bikes (riding would just be annoying with their wings, plus bikes aren't fast/efficient enough to outweigh just flying), so instead, Phoenix gets around on a little wing-powered scooter device (like scootaloo lol) (they're usually made for children who can't fly yet, but Phoenix still uses one)

finally, wow, stellar jay’s are quite literally just phoenix wright as a bird lmao? color scheme, hair, it’s uncanny. give it a pink tie and it just is Phoenix Wright, i used a blue jay since they’ve got a bit more striking wings but wow.

(ty again for the support and for reading my essay ! :3)

one more thing, but @kora-kat YES YES YES this. ^^^^ omg THIS. this is still true even though he's a jay now.

[sovamurka]

Thinking about how Ma Meilleure Ennemie can be considered a continuation and an interesting thematic expansion of Enemy.

"No shit, lmao, they both have the word enemy in them".

Like, yes, that's exactly the point.

But there's more to it than meets the eye.

We all know that Enemy in many ways is meant to be from Jinx's perspective (music video supports that) - it's HER internal worries, it's HER exhaustingly sad sarcasm, it's HER wreck of emotions that she can't stop.

The song explains why and how she basically convinced herself that she's a curse and will never be a saint no matter what she does.

She exclaims that everybody wants to be her enemy. For her this word means "the person that everyone hates, the person who everyone abandoned, the person for whom no one prays or hopes".

And then in Ma Meilleure Ennemie Ekko... agrees with her - she IS his enemy. But to him this word has so much more meaning and underlying feelings than just "the person I'm against, the person I hate".

For him enemy is also someone who's always near - if not in body, then in mind. Someone who truly shares history with you and can hurt you in more ways than one.

Who you hate so much because you had too much love in your heart for them.

Hatred is not the opposite of love, it's just love with a minus instead of plus, the true opposite of love is indifference. And Ekko feels anything but indifference towards Jinx, even though he tried so many times to convince himself otherwise.

First verse of the song is basically his admission that she's an essential part of him - no matter what he does, no matter how many times he forces himself to forget, no matter how much he tries to keep his enemy out of his mind.

He knows he should stay away, he knows he should keep his own heart under hundreds of locks to not let anyone break it again. But he can't help it. He still loves her despite everything, including his own self.

That's why he also agrees that she's indeed a curse. The most beautiful one. She haunts his thoughts and he hates himself for finding comfort in it. But it's better to be in a bad company than alone, am I right?

The chorus of Ma Meilleure Ennemie sounds almost like a last resort - a mutual attempt to push each other away.

To make matters worse, the whole "meilleur/pire" (best/worst) dichotomy that is constantly present in the song literally from the beginning, is a simple yet clever play on a famous wedding vow - "Pour le meilleur et pour le pire" (translation: for the best and the worst of it). The more they try to convince each other that they should not be together, the more they intertwine their fates because they repeat this vow again and again.

And then in the second verse of Ma Meilleure Ennemie Jinx finally lets herself say things she was so afraid to say before. Lets her feelings and thoughts be known in the most vulnerable way possible. Not with Enemy's upset angry screaming but with this gentle melodic whisper.

And what does she have to say about her feelings towards the person who she shares so much complicated history with?

That his name cuts her open every time she hears it. And that's why she doesn't say it - it hurts her so much.

Ekko's name literally echoes in her mind. Jinx can't even say for sure whether this pain she feels comes from hatred that formed over the years or from pure sweetness, softness and gentleness that she still keeps in her heart for him.

And then comes Je t’avais dit: “Ne regarde pas en arrière” (translation: I told you not to look back) which is such an obvious Orpheus and Eurydice myth reference when you say it out loud.

Albeit, their situation is an interesting take on this myth.

Let me explain. Orpheus had a chance to bring his wife Eurydice back to the land of the living if he guided her there without looking back or else she would end up in the underworld again. There are several versions of the myth that give different explanations on why Orpheus turns back, but they all agree on one thing - it was done because of love.

However, in Ekko's case it's kind of a reverse situation - Jinx will disappear if he turns away from her.

That's what, in my opinion, Turn Your Back and I'll Disappear song means, actually.

And here, at the end of second verse, Jinx explicitly tells Ekko that he shouldn't look back. He should leave past behind, should leave her behind, let her disappear from his life and from this world altogether or else everything will get infinitely worse.

But of course he doesn't, of course he turns back (time) again and again.

He does it because he loves her, just like Orpheus loves Eurydice.

Despite not having much screen time, timebomb still managed to tell such a wonderful intricately woven story.

I analysed just a small part of Jinx and Ekko's symbolic lyricism. Believe me, there's still so much more to talk about and uncover since this story is told through different forms of art that are all worth your attention.

[readngandweepng]

talking mostly nsfw of ftm rdr2 boys ft. charles sean (high and low honor) arthur kieran micah and javier with a top reader

MDNI amab reader with no pronouns mentioned. contains afab language and talk of dysphoria, binding, and periods in the first half plus breasts sex etc btw this is long

short first section mostly just sfw about if they feel dysphoria, if they bind, and what they're like on their periods etc.

i really can’t see charles getting much dysphoria at all, if any. part of him wouldn’t really care much how people see him as long as the gang/his friends see him as a man. the way outsiders perceive him isn’t something he thinks of much. even if the gang didn’t see him as a man for whatever reason it’s not something he’ll be that upset about. he’s confident in himself to never doubt his identity, despite any feminine features he bears. however he’s not afraid to knock someone out if they’re seriously taunting him and being a jackass. charles is also a great person to go to if you’re feeling dysphoric. his words are quality over quantity, and even someone with the worst dysphoria can feel a little better after listening to him.

i feel like charles would have a pretty big chest, so if he binds before going out into town he’s really doing it for the sake of holding up his male appearance to avoid any complications. at camp he’d wear baggier clothing just as a general thing but i don’t see him feeling the need to bind as much. he’s really not that bothered by his breasts; they’re just another part of his body to him and that’s about it. he can experience back pain and bodily stress, so it’s possible that binding can help relieve that pain, which in that case he definitely will bind. 

charles gets cramps but he’s pretty good at powering through them. he may hiss in pain every now and then but usually they don’t really get in his way much. though if they get particularly bad charles is a master at finding methods to soothe the pain. his period doesn’t change his mood much, aside from making him a little hungrier than usual. he’ll have extra snacks in his pockets prepared just for his cycle so he can eat while he sits around the fire or does chores. his sex drive also slopes, going from almost non-existent at the start of his period and then gradually getting hornier as it reaches its end. you’ll know his period’s almost over when he starts getting touchy-feely or when you can feel his gaze on you more often. 

sean’s flat chested in my mind, probably the flattest of everyone. maybe used to experience chest dysphoria as a teen but as he got older he started to see his breasts as pecs and now isn’t afraid to waltz around with his shirt off. (probably would have done so anyway, he’s ballsy like that) his hair doesn’t make him dysphoric but he’ll still make sure it’s at its reasonable length. for fun, sean would probably like dolling up, stealing a dress from karen and then prancing around it at camp just to fuck with people and maybe even get a guy to hit on him just to turn around and laugh in his face like an asshole lmao.

unlike charles, sean can NOT handle cramps at all. he’ll be curled up in a ball until they go away, whining and huffing when people tell him to get up and work. and when he is up and about all he does is complain about it hurting. even when he’s not cramping he’ll still be complaining until someone like karen or grimshaw tells him to pipe it down. if someone offers him some herbs or tonic he’ll all of a sudden try to pretend like he doesn’t need it but then will end up downing a bottle of whiskey later just to try and relieve the pain. he’ll also want to have sex with you to cope with his cramps. 

on his period he’s less chatty and a lot more grumpy. snaps a lot when he’s not in the mood to talk and even drinks less at times (when it’s over he’s back to the bottle though). his sex drive surprisingly plummets and he can even be a bit touch-averted. this can happen in spurts, where he’ll be sitting in your lap one minute and then all of a sudden won’t want to touch you again for the rest of the day. his breasts also become very tender even to the point where wearing a shirt that’s just a little bit too tight can be painful or uncomfortable. he’ll let you kiss him on the forehead or give him a side hug but for the most part he’s not as bubbly as he usually is. and when his period’s over he’ll try to wrack pity from you for not giving him enough love and attention.

out of everyone here i think (high honor) arthur would experience the worst dysphoria. he’d try really hard to pretend like the dysphoria doesn’t bother him, but he will be noticeably very happy and feel just a little bit more confident in himself when receiving affirmations from his close friends. if he’s out in town, he greets everyone just the same. he gets a bit of a pep in his step when he hears people referring to him as “mister” as they greet him back. arthur’s heart skips a beat if he overhears someone talking to a woman, fearing that someone’s talking to him. but when he turns around and sees a conversation happening elsewhere his anxiety slowly settles. really he tries to avoid going to town when he’s feeling dysphoric for these reasons, but also because he can’t help but over-analyze himself in other people’s eyes in fear of them seeing nothing but a woman, regardless of his muscles and rugged appearance. in a long-lasting relationship he won’t be as scared and lots of progress can be done however the dysphoria never does go away.

his breasts aren’t too large, but he’d still bind and would need to be reminded to change the bindings or take them off. arthur doesn’t like wearing too many layers so he sees binding as a bit of a hassle, and some days he’s too stubborn to bother with it so he just puts on a thicker jacket and calls it a day. he might need someone to remind him to bind when he goes into town, just for his sake. he can get into a headspace where he feels like he doesn’t need to bind for whatever reason, so having someone there to clear his head is something he’s eternally grateful for. 

when he’s on his period arthur doesn’t really like to admit he’s cramping. if someone asks why he’s groaning in pain he just waves it off and blames it on “being old”. charles and the girls will see through it and only then will he bashfully shrug in admission. he will hesitantly take any remedies they give him and may or may not actually use them. his period definitely physically weakens him a lot more than it may the others. all of a sudden lifting a hay bale feels like trying to carry a whole bison over his shoulder, and even riding his horse feels like a huge chore. he doesn’t get grumpy but he definitely gets depressed. will become more distant and will spend time away from people until his period’s over. his sex drive can randomly spike though. you might see him wander into the woods just to turn around and see him there with rosy cheeks as he asks you if you’d like to accompany him to his tent.

(low honor) arthur feels dysphoria but nowhere near as bad as his high honor counterpart. his dysphoria comes less from his outward appearance and more from within. he speaks to townspeople with trepidation because deep down he’s on edge in fear of hearing even a little bit of hesitation in their greeting. he becomes cold when dysphoric, even with you he’ll try to drive affirming words from you, pushing you to call him mister or to tell him how handsome he looks. he wants validation even when he doesn’t realize it.

lh arthur, even in the midst of dysphoria could really care less about his tits. there’s still some underlying insecurity but overall he could whip them out whenever he wanted to and wouldn’t be bothered. he almost gets off on it to be honest. he’ll use his own breasts to his advantage if he really needs to. both arthur’s in the right mindset can also see their breasts as pecs the same way sean can. lh arthur doesn’t feel the need to bind, but it’s not something he’s never done before. if someone like dutch insists upon it for whatever reason, then fine. but in his own accord it’s not something he cares much about. 

on his period he’s honestly the exact same, except maybe a little more cocky. something about his cycle has him just a tiny bit more confident and in over his head. he’ll be more antagonistic but also flirty. he’s also a huge tease. he’ll sit on your lap and grind into you just to pull away and leave camp for like two days. surprisingly, he won’t have sex on his period, not once. before and after? hell yes. but during? no. he doesn’t know why and neither do you. 

kieran feels some dysphoria, but i think his main problem is just insecurity and anxiety. he’d shrivel up very easy at any rude comments so receiving compliments and assurance goes a very long way. he doesn’t care about his hair length, but he does much prefer having facial hair. feeling/seeing a clean-shaven face on himself can make him feel a bit dysphoric, but again he’s really just anxious about how people perceive him. he will cry if he gets misgendered in public which is why he always has some facial and other visible body hair. over time if he’s around people who support him he will feel less insecure and will slowly garner more confidence until eventually he barely ever feels dysphoria.

i think he’d have pretty big breasts, second to charles. he definitely binds and layers his clothes when he’s anywhere but with his friends or you. if he’s been with people long enough that he doesn’t feel dysphoria anymore he’ll still bind but won’t layer his clothes as much. with you there are some insecurities about not being manly enough for you, but of course that is something that eventually deteriorates over time as your relationship progresses. he most likely will never be able to walk around camp shirtless like sean, but he can loiter in your tent without a top on as long as it’s just you and him, albeit with a very red face. 

his cramps vary. either he has cycles where he’s completely cramp-free or he randomly is struck with pain so bad he needs to sit and curl up in a ball for an hour. he gets a lot of headaches that he needs to sit down for and his sex drive fluctuates a ton; he’ll be super horny for one entire day and then the next he feels absolutely nothing. also gets distant more than usual, sticking to the horses and not making much conversation, and if he does get in conversation he’s somewhat curt and almost impatient, but right when his period is over he’ll be chatting it up with everyone and acting like he usually does.

micah 100% experiences dysphoria that he pushes down like crazy, he’s the second worst to arthur. would never admit to feeling dysphoric, but you can see it in his actions, like wearing a jacket over his shirt even when the weather is warm and hot. on the outside he’s high and mighty but inside he’s going through a literal hurricane. he really doesn’t want to admit that he feels like shit and most likely never will unless you’ve been together for a while. strangely he’d feel dysphoric if his hair was longer past his shoulders, and if he notices it’s even an inch longer than he wants it to be he’ll cut it even if he ends up doing a shit job. he simultaneously feels inner distress about not having a penis but at the same time gets really cocky about having a pussy.

i can’t really decide whether micah either refuses to bind entirely just out of spite or if he’d be too scared to go out without at least some thing around his breasts. he’s not flat by any means but they’re not too big either. he’ll bind or layer up to try and conceal his breasts but if his shirt happened to get undone when at camp and someone makes a comment, a part of him wants to say fuck it and pretend like he’s not bothered and another part of him wants to tear down an entire tent and wrap it around himself. micah’s very capricious, he can be showing off his tits one minute and doubling up on shirts with a jacket on the next. micah’s another one who, overtime and with progress will feel less insecure. 

when he’s on his period you may or may not will be able to tell; he’s snappy, grumpy and mean, but also very depressed. might make a comment to someone passing by but really doesn’t have the energy to continue his taunting further even if he gets a reaction. loses motivation very quickly and gets frustrated with himself often over little things. if he’s particularly sad and angry he’ll make especially mean comments to charles or arthur out of his own projection and insecurity. if he had a cycle where he was mostly depressed and quiet, when it’s over he’ll be twice as bad as he usually is to make up for the lost time lmao. but with you he becomes oddly affectionate, not really possessive but not docile either. he’ll stick to you half the time until he gets in a mood and needs to distant himself. at the end of the day he’ll always find himself back in your tent, snuggling up to you as you sleep.

i don’t see javier experiencing much dysphoria at all unless someone deliberately misgenders him. he’s confident with himself and his identity and isn’t bothered by accidental misgendering but if someone is purposely referring to him as ‘miss’ or calling him a lady to mock him or be an asshole then javier’s confidence dwindles just a bit and he can feel dysphoric, mostly just afterwards when the heat dies down. he’s kind of able to save himself by acknowledging how pretty he is regardless if he were a man or woman, especially when both are visibly eager to chat him up at a bar. your gaze is really all he needs, the mix of hunger and love is enough to overpower any dysphoria he feels.

his chest is about the same size as micah’s. sometimes he binds and sometimes he doesn’t. he honestly might forget most of the time because he’s not too bothered with doing it. he doesn’t care who sees his tits, and if he’s feeling particularly confident he’ll dress up real nice and pop open a button or two to even accentuate them, especially if it gets your eyes and hands on him. similar to charles, javier won’t hesitate to throw a punch at anyone who wants to antagonize him for it, and if it’s someone at camp attempting to get him riled up he’s petty enough to find every excuse in the book to show off his breasts in some way. 

on his period he’s not much in the mood to talk, mainly just wanting to get chores done and get the day over with. has cramps that vary in pain but usually he’s able to power through them well enough with some mental strength and tonics. also gets physically brought down by them, so instead of doing heavy lifting chores he’ll just go fishing instead to contribute. his sex drive spikes but for the most part he loses it. unlike some of the others, it takes longer for javier to bounce back after his period’s over, but when he does he really longs for the closeness he missed prior and he will put aside an entire day or two just to spend it with you.

second section all nsfw here of how your first first time together would be like—talking about them and their body, foreplay, ideal positions, their volume, how they take dick, and what happens after

you may or may not have to be the one to initiate it. if you’re dating charles he already trusts you a lot, so having sex for the first time isn’t something he’s particularly that shy about unless you were very flirty and gave him a lot of attention. he’s not typically self-conscious, but he can get bashful if you stare too much, especially at his breasts. not a lot of pleasure derives from them but he doesn’t mind having them played with if it makes you happy. if he’s already sensitive or you’re in the middle of sex, sucking on his nipples can make him moan a bit. if you’re really into his breasts, charles will purposefully incorporate them into sex just for you. he’ll ride you either with his shirt off or undone, if he’s on his back and his hands are free he’ll squeeze and caress them, etc.. for the most part as long as you’re happy then he’s happy too. charles does get a little kick out of you staring at him because he does like feeling wanted. if you’re looking at him like a love-sick fool he’s going to end up being the more dominant one, sitting in your lap to kiss your lips and neck, being sure to leave at least one mark because he’s a bit cheeky like that. he’ll love it if you run your fingers through his hair, not to pull it or yank on it but it does make him shiver a little bit, especially when you graze his spine or the back of his neck. he’d also like it if you left a mark on him too, so it almost feels like you’ve claimed each other in a way. 

compared to some of the other boys, charles takes a bit longer to get ready. he doesn’t get as wet as fast, and if you’re spontaneously having sex (compared to having planned a night together) then he’ll need more foreplay or at least some pomade to use as lubricant. this stays true no matter how long you’ve been together. charles is often a giver, but if you decide that you want him to lay back and just enjoy it then he will be happy to do so as long as you give him a chance to return any favors. he likes being fingered, and fingering him while you eat him out is the quickest way to get him soaking and ready for you. he’ll want to go down on you too, just because he likes (and is good at) doing it. he might accidentally make you cum though so it can be best to do that first. and charles recovers fast, if you make him cum once or twice it doesn’t sway him, he’ll still be able to take you just fine.

he takes it slow and steady. if you’re inexperienced then he’ll ride you and do the work. he tries not to let his desire accidentally soil your first time together, making sure that he rocks his hips at a consistent leisurely pace. if you’re experienced or you just want to be on top of him then charles will let you take the reins, he’s not picky at all how you’re positioned in general. he’ll keep his hands either on your shoulders or settled on your back. with charles there isn’t a lot of switching places mid-sex, however if he’s riding you and he cums first, you can gently flip him onto his back. he’ll buck his hips up into yours until you’re close before sweetly reminding you to pull out because it’s easy to forget when you’re inside him. even though charles isn’t picky about your positions, he does like to be physically close or pressed against you, favoring to feel your skin against his. there’s a lot of touching and squeezing and kissing, mostly from him. he won’t take it to heart if you can’t focus on anything but his pussy to be honest. 

doesn’t matter if you’re at a hotel or at camp, charles is pretty quiet. if you’re in missionary and in control of the pace, he’s a little louder, at least moaning loud enough for only you to hear if you thrust into him just right. when he gets near orgasm is when his volume picks up. he’ll go quiet for a second before letting out a shaky moan as he cums. if you’re loud, he might prefer riding you so that he can easily control your volume and/or shush you with his hand. it won’t embarrass him if someone were to overhear, he mostly favors the quietness for the sake of others especially for people back at camp. charles can also be a little louder depending on how many times he’s already orgasmed. each orgasm takes longer and longer to build up, so with the added overstimulation it can make him moan as long as you’re fast and deep with your thrusts.

charles is great at taking dick, honestly takes it the easiest out of everyone here despite him needing more preparation. doesn’t matter how big or thick you are, you’ll slide in nice and easy. he might need a second to adjust but he’s ready to go the minute you bottom out. charles’ pussy is a bit more creamy than it is actually slick, but he can take you at any speed just fine. his hips are wide and he’ll like it if you grab onto them as you fuck into him. he’s good at keeping his legs wide open and spread too so you won’t have to worry about accidentally cumming inside of him. his pussy is also very good at gripping you so you might need to pull out a little earlier than you’d think. charles needs clitoral stimulation to cum, so it works anyway. pull out and finish him with your tongue and fingers then cum on his stomach. he’s not picky where your cum goes, and if it’s on him then that just means you both can have a dip in the lake later. 

charles doesn’t need a lot of time to recuperate after he cums. he’s immediately relaxed and definitely very pleased. he’s not all that sensitive, so if you haven’t cum yet he’ll gladly let you keep fucking him to reach your peak. he won’t hesitate to help you in other ways, whether it’s jerking you off or using his mouth, he’ll do whatever it takes (within reason) to make you cum because he wants sex to be satisfying for the both of you. you’re both making love, and even though it doesn’t have to be ‘romantic’ he still wants it to be fun and sweet. and if you for whatever reason can’t cum, he doesn’t take any offense at all, and he’ll even really love the challenge. again, charles has a lot of energy. if you want to go for a second round? he’s up for it. maybe even a third, if you can handle him. he’s also totally up for sex while you’re cleaning up and bathing.

sean doesn’t care how long you’ve been together, he wants you to fuck him. if you’re not already dating, it’ll be a breeze for him. however if you’ve been together for a while, surprisingly sean might be just a little bit shy. this would be real for him; you’d be making love, really, not just fucking. you’d have to get him to slow down, stop him from tearing his shirt off and getting your pants undone before you’ve undressed everything else. feel him up over his clothes, he’ll like feeling you press your palms against his nipples. kiss him on his lips, his face, his neck chest hands whatever. his face will light up and get hot, and once you’ve undone the buttons on his shirt to reveal his chest he’ll be squirming telling you to get on with it already. because it’s sean we’re talking about he’ll want to jump the gun, so just take it slow and ignore his squabbling. the slower you take it the better it is for him, he just doesn’t want to admit it, but it is a very satisfying result once you actually jump into things. 

sean’s a greedy boy, he’ll gladly lay back and have you do all the work. he’ll wrap his legs around your head as you eat him out and he’ll beg for you to slip a finger or two (or three) in alongside your tongue. he gets wet very fast over almost everything you do, so you won’t have to worry too much about preparing him. tell him to get on his knees and he’ll do it in a heartbeat; sean gets a little bit in over his head so he’ll suck you off but you’ll have to grab his hands so he doesn’t touch himself. most likely he’ll cum once or twice (probably by accident) before you actually have sex. but just give him a minute and he’ll be ready to go in no time. he’s the opposite of charles, once he gets an orgasm in him the others cum in like clockwork. he likes foreplay but he likes sex better. he does secretly like having you be in control of his orgasms though, and he’ll be a lot wetter (and noisier) if you hold him back from cumming before you’re in him. 

he’s not gonna care what position you put him in. automatically he’s on his back with his legs open, but if you want to flip him onto his side or his back then he’s completely on board with that too. being able to see your face gets him going. if you want him to ride you he might whine a little about it but the minute he’s sitting on your dick he shuts up real fast. he’s sporadic and all over the place, so if you’re into that then you’ll love having him in your lap, though he’ll try to rush things and he’ll 100% forget to get off your lap before you cum but thankfully he’s light and easy to push off lmao. if you take him in missionary you’ll have to be careful because sean’s a leg locker, it’s the only position with him where you’ll actually struggle to pull out. he genuinely does it by accident because his head just gets so hazy and even if he hasn’t cum yet he’s going to be very fucked out. he just wants more and more of you, so naturally he keeps you locked in place. you genuinely might accidentally get him pregnant, so it’d probably be best to have him on his stomach a few minutes before you finish. 

yeahhh, sean’s a little noisy. for some reason he just can’t contain himself. he moans with every thrust and whines with every drag, and even when you’ve stopped he’ll just be talking. the only way to make him be quiet aside from stuffing something in his mouth is to fuck him so fast that his voice gets caught in his throat. when he cums he’ll let out a long and loud moan but at least for the most part he’s quiet. it’s better to rent out a room with sean, at camp he already gets enough flack from everyone. not that sean wouldn’t love to rub it in people’s faces, but for everyone’s sake it’s just a better option. this is also why it’s a good thing to put him on his stomach so that the bedding muffles him. it’s not perfect but at least it’s something. overtime you might be able to train him to be a little less noisy. 

sean’s not the worst at taking dick. he tenses up a little too much sometimes, and with his overzealous personality he often bites off more than he can chew. he’s very tight, but he gets soaked rather quickly. he takes dick the best on his stomach or in your lap. he’s messy, so he’ll just be rutting his hips into yours inconsistently. preferably you’re the one to take control, either bouncing him in your lap or pulling him back to meet your hips. he’s sloppy on his back but if you’re on a comfortable hotel bed he likes it when you press him down flat against it, keeping his arms and legs down or even just one leg thrown around your hips and one pressed down. sean can cum with or without clitoral stimulation but during sex he gets forgetful so you’ll have to be the one to rub his clit. clitoral stimulation does also drain his energy a lot more, so he’ll recuperate less quicker and become much more sensitive. 

afterwards sean is a total wreck. he simultaneously is bouncing off the walls but is also ready to pass out. he likes to act dramatic, like you’ve wrecked him so hard that he couldn’t possibly do any chores for the next week.. (he wants you to offer to do them for him.) he likes being kissed after, it makes him feel all giddy and loved. he’s very ticklish, so honestly tickling him a little after sex really isn’t that bad of a way to get him tired since sean doesn’t know when to stop, he might end up trying to rile you up for another round or two. if you don’t take his bait, he’ll curl up in your arms and he’ll be totally conked out for the rest of the day/night. just be sure not to kiss his neck too much or else he’ll really start bugging you to go again. and he’s a heavy sleeper, so once he’s passed out you can clean him up a little and he’ll be none the wiser.

oh arthur. you’ll need to initiate. (high honor) arthur gets so embarrassed just having you kiss him, wanting to make love to him is a huge step. he’s not against it and he knows you’ll treat him right, but his own insecurities seep through that you’ll have to snuff out. he’ll be the shyest you’ve ever seen him, and depending on how you ease him into it he may or may not keep his shirt on. kiss him all over and give special attention to his neck. he gets red and bruises easily but it riles him up and gets him shivering at every touch. gently touch him over his clothes and slowly trail your hand under his shirt to squeeze his waist. give him lots of verbal praise, arthur will gain his confidence soon. once he does, he’ll guide your hand where he wants you to touch him. if he takes his shirt off, kiss his chest. his nipples are sensitive, so sucking on them gently will get him wet embarrassingly fast. he has performance anxiety, so you’ll have to take a domineering role until his worries settle (they never truly go away but they can be pushed aside). he is very sensitive altogether, emotionally and physically. his heart is constantly racing, both out of good and bad anxiety. once you get into a rhythm, he’s less scared, and if you can get his brain to turn off then he’ll be laying back and soaking in all the love and attention you give him. 

arthur’s not too sure what to do with himself, so you’ll need to take the reins. trail kisses from his lips to his stomach, and then to his heat. before taking off his jeans, grind yourself against him. he’ll look up at you with a sickeningly sweet expression until you slowly undress him. then you can drag your thumb across his folds before circling his clit. he’ll buck up, but he’ll let you carefully hold him down. kiss him, and when he feels wet enough, slide a finger into his heat. arthur will be blushing like crazy, probably even call you dirty for doing this, but make sure that you tell him how handsome he is so that he doesn’t get too in his head. he’ll enjoy any way you touch him, but most of all arthur loves to hear you tell him how handsome and strong he looks. whisper in his ear how well he takes your fingers and he’ll twitch and groan. his cunt tightens around you like a vice, mention it and he might just cum on the spot. foreplay will be a big part of sex for him. feeling how hard you are through your jeans just from kissing and licking him surprisingly gets him going. if you go too slow he might make a joke to hurry you up, but really his heart is swelling at your care and attention.

for your first time together arthur’s gonna be somewhat self-conscious, naturally. he’ll want to be on his back where he can move around as he pleases but still have you doing the work. in the future this changes but for now he wants you to be in control. arthur’s good at staying still, very obedient. you most likely won’t be switching places, unless arthur cums first. if arthur cums before you do he gains a newfound confidence and insists on riding you to bring you to orgasm. this is how arthur’s anxiety quells, when he knows that what he’ll do will be good and pleasurable. when his touch makes your cock twitch inside him and every kiss makes your hips jolt into his he soon starts to understand the power he has. it’s a bit dangerous honestly, but arthur uses it well. arthur wants you two to be physically close, mostly so that he can hide his face in your neck when he gets too shy, but also being held pressed against you because you crave to feel and have more of him is a reminder that he’s loved and that you truly do want him.

arthur tries very hard to be quiet, mostly just letting out low groans or shaky breaths and huffs. He sometimes puts his hand over his mouth to muffle himself if he’s moaning however if you’re not at camp he’ll reluctantly keep his hands over his head to let you hear him if you ask. he’ll be red in the face the entire time but at least you can hear the little moans he lets out when your cock drags along his walls. though arthur isn’t that loud, he does get very wet and slick; unless you’re having slow drawn out sex, things can get noisy very quickly. hearing his own pussy can make him shy, however it does bring him to orgasm faster. he finds it embarrassing, but if you love it he just gets so red and he can’t help but tighten around you if you tell him just how much you love it. if you’re vocal, whispering in his ear or groaning at how he feels it has him reeling. he wants to shush you, but he can’t help that it really does him going. arthur also can have kind of a dirty mouth by complete accident. like he’ll be so into it he might let it slip that he’s been thinking about this for ages and his face just gets so hot that you can literally feel it when he hides it in your shoulder. 

arthur struggles at first taking your dick. he tenses up so you’ll have to soothe him, caressing his thighs and hips. he’s tight, but once you’ve bottomed out his pussy has your dick in a chokehold. he loves resting his heels on the small of your back and pulling you into him. he wraps his arms around your shoulders so you can tease him by all of a sudden stopping and he’ll desperately keep fucking up into you to keep taking your dick. after some time of course he stops tensing up, and in no time sex is smooth sailing. he’s the second best at taking dick overall. and he does know how to ride, his hips aren’t just for show. it’s shocking how worried he was about his performance when he literally can make you lightheaded just from the way he bucks his hips. like before, he doesn’t realize the kind of ability he holds until later. but once he gets the hang of it you’re really going to be in trouble.

arthur is most likely going to be pretty tuckered out. all the anxiety building up and then being overwhelmed by so much love and pleasure, it tires him out real fast so there won’t be a spontaneous second round after your first time with arthur. he might be a little blissed out so you’ll have to help clean him up or wrap a blanket around him. he’ll let out a big sigh before rolling over and letting you wrap your arms around him. hold him close because truthfully he’ll be a little scared of you leaving. kiss him and don’t forget to tell him how good he did, arthur loves it. he’ll try to shoo you away if you get too lovey-dovey but he loves and appreciates it so much. internally he doesn’t always believe the praise you throw at him, but still his heart picks up speed and he may even cry a little bit, just don’t mention it. 

(low honor) arthur’s all confidence. if he doesn’t get to bed you within the first week of meeting you then success! you’ve tamed him, somewhat. he’s very seductive and knows exactly what to do with his body and how to twist his words. he’ll try to tease you by stripping slowly and grinding into you until you get impatient. you might have to wrangle him a bit just to get him to stop teasing but it’s entirely in his nature. he brings your hands to touch him, making you grab his tits or connecting your hips together. when he kisses you he’ll bite your lip before having you say out loud that you want to fuck him. he likes getting you frazzled, so if you’re unlucky he might end up pulling himself away entirely to get you riled up until you chase after him. he also will definitely mark you up, making sure at least one is visible for everyone to see. he’ll keep his favorite ones in places where only he can see and access them.

foreplay with lh arthur is slow. either he’s teasing your dick, dragging his tongue up and down it and suckling on the tip or you’re eating him out as he tells you how to touch yourself through your clothes. he’ll make you edge yourself as you finish him off with your tongue, promising that he’ll make it up to you. lh arthur likes spreading himself open with his fingers, inserting three right away, not to stretch himself out but just to show you how much he can take. he won’t want to get prepped too much because he likes the burn of your cock splitting him open. however he’ll shove your dick down his throat and make you cum once or twice in record time so once you fuck him it’s almost painful. if you’re really too sensitive, surprisingly he will give you a break and not overstimulate you, even though he really wants to. instead he’ll let you overstimulate him, although with lh arthur it’s not exactly painful. 

he’ll let you have some control before taking over. he likes riding you, first letting you lay him down and slowly fuck him until he sits up and starts kissing you. the way he kisses makes you feel hypnotized, and once you stop fucking him out of forgetfulness is when he’ll push you onto your back and ride you. he also likes sitting on something, a crate or bedside cabinet maybe so that he can pull you close into him with his legs and keep you trapped there. he’ll just tease you if you start worrying about pulling out. he’s also a leg locker, except he does it on purpose, so he wants a position where he can keep you in place easily. if you can’t afford the risk then he’ll let you pull out as long as you promise someday you’ll cum in him like he really wants. 

naturally he’s not actually that loud except for groans and huffs and dirty talking, but he sometimes likes to raise his volume deliberately so that someone overhears. lh arthur isn’t shy, he’ll take any excuse to kill two birds with one stone by teasing you and also letting people know he’s getting fucked by you. if you try to shush him he’ll laugh saying it’s your fault for fucking him so well but you both know he’s full of shit. if you’re in a hotel he doesn’t feel the need to raise his volume unless the law was near, the risk of getting caught turns him on like crazy. the best option would be to have sex camping out in the woods where he doesn’t feel the need to show you off and he can (reluctantly) be kind of normal for once, although he’ll still give you condescending praise just to get you riled. also know that if you can really fuck him just right he’ll let out a completely real and sweet moan that is reserved only for you. he tries to ignore how it makes you twitch inside of him even more so than when he plays it up.

he takes dick like an absolute champ. truthfully, out of everyone lh arthur is the most experienced due to his fearlessness and thrill-seeking personality. i can see him honest to god pretending that he’s a virgin at first just to see the look on your face when you momentarily believe him. again, lh arthur isn’t shy. he’s not as tight or wet, but he knows how to grip his cunt around you and how to work his hips. he’ll make you lightheaded the second you’re bottomed out. he loves making you feel so good that you’d want to stay inside him forever even when it hurts. he’ll want you to cum in him because he loves being filled with your spend and telling people about it. and he’s got a lot of energy, he doesn’t get as sensitive; you’ll end up clocking out waaay before he’s even close to being tired. he’ll feign desperation, pleading you to give him just one more. he won’t push you if you say no, but if you fall for it and humor him it most likely won’t just be “one more”. he has a high sex drive, and his loyalty to you also means you’re the one who has to help satiate him.

afterwards, depending on the events prior he either will be tired enough to sleep/give himself a break or he won’t be anywhere near done. you’ll have to have a lot of stamina to keep up with lh arthur, and even more mental strength just to handle what he dishes out. he’s a little restless, so if you’re tuckered out and ready to hit the hay he might end up leaving you for the time being to go hunting or robbing folk. if you can really manage to strike his heart, he’ll lay down with you and at least stay with you until you fall asleep. he’ll have a hand on you the whole time, and his staring may come off as a bit weird at first but internally he’s going through a lot of different thoughts and feelings. you may or may not hear him whispering into your skin as you drift off to sleep. you’d have to be real special to tame this arthur morgan. 

kieran’s going to want it sweet and romantic. having sex with him will always be intimate and full of love, especially for your first time. he’s completely head over heels and at your mercy. take it slow, but not too slow or else he gets squirmy and (at least at first) he’ll be a little too shy to tell you to pick up the speed. kieran likes having your hands on him, rubbing circles into his hips, holding his hands or squeezing his breasts. he wants to hide away and be shy, but at the same time he wants to be brave and give you himself completely, so undress him with care. he’ll get embarrassed about it but praising him and telling him how pretty he looks makes him preen in delight. he’s very sensitive, shivering when your breath lightly grazes his skin. blow on his nipples and they’ll perk up real quick. he likes having his chest squeezed and fondled, even if he can’t bear to look at you when you do it. his face gets red and warm, and even with everything his favorite thing is feeling you kiss him. 

foreplay is huge for kieran, especially for your first time making love. start with kissing him and holding him in your arms until he feels comfortable enough to move things forward himself. kiss his neck and ask him how he’s feeling, and if he’s feeling confident then take off your shirt and help take off his. kieran loves feeling your skin against his and it makes his heart flutter when you pull him flush against you. when you get into it he’ll like sitting down with his back against your chest as you pull his slacks off before having him spread his legs. he’ll squirm as you gently open him up with your fingers. they’ll glide between his folds with ease due to how wet he is. his legs will try to close automatically, but with the combination of kisses being placed on his neck and your fingers stretching him he gets so flustered he can’t think straight enough to be self-conscious anymore. he also likes dry-humping as foreplay, it makes him feel less insecure and it feels good to have your hardened dick against his heat. it gets him desperate, so you may actually hear him beg for you in your ear. 

kieran likes having his hands above his head, even though it makes him feel extremely vulnerable. he trusts you, though, and truthfully he enjoys how exposed he is. when he sees you gazing down at him with so much love and affection it makes him want to cry, which he does. hold his hands in yours as you fuck him, keeping him close. he’ll wrap his legs and arms around you in seek of warmth and comfort. he wants to be in a position where you can easily kiss his lips. kieran wants to feel loved and needs to be reassured. kiss his tears away and remind him of how much he means to you. then fuck him till he can barely move so you can pamper him and give him even more attention. and before he cums, lift one of his legs up and he’ll tighten around you so hard it’ll make you dizzy. he also loves feeling your hands gripping his waist or pressed against his stomach as you take him. 

kieran’s somewhat loud, somewhat quiet. he doesn’t realize he’s loud but he is. he’s more talkative, rambling about how good you feel. he’s actually got a pretty dirty mouth, but only far during sex when he can’t completely think straight because afterwards he’s totally embarrassed about it. if he’s not talking then he’s whining and moaning with your name slipping out occasionally. kieran feels comfortable with you, but having sex in a room rented out or somewhere far from camp will calm him much easier. it also means he can be as loud as he wants and doesn’t have to hold back without someone getting on his case about it. kieran would really enjoy a partner who’s talkative, someone who can whisper in his ear and talk dirty to him. it gets him soaking, which also makes actually fucking him loud too. he’ll get embarrassed hearing his own pussy squelching around your cock but it still drives him crazy. keep his legs down spread open and it makes him moan up a storm.

kieran takes dick well. at first he can be a little tense, but it’s mostly just nerves. he wants to perform well for you and wants to make you feel just as good as you make him feel. once the nerves have dissipated and he’s completely calm and in the moment his cunt suddenly grips you with fervor. he’s both tight and also not at the same time, but your dick glides into him so smoothly. his pussy practically sucks you in and his legs locking around your waist makes it difficult to resist fucking him deep. kieran’s another one you have to be careful with, once he’s in the headspace he can’t think straight for himself. he’ll want you to cum in him, and if you’re not quick enough to react to him keeping you in place deep inside him then you’re gonna have a pregnant kieran on your hands very quickly. 

afterwards kieran may or may not be knocked out. he’s a sweet crybaby, so after he might tear up again. he loves you so much, and he’ll tell you that a million times until he’s too sleepy to get any words out. kieran will get sad if you get up and leave to wash up, grabbing onto your wrist or an article of clothing you’re wearing so that you’ll stay with him and hold him. he wants to be wrapped up in your arms, feeling your skin against his. if you’ve got blankets, he wants to be boxed in your warmth. right after sex kieran doesn’t care about the mess, he just wants to snuggle up with you and sleep. he’ll be too overwhelmed for another round, but the next morning he’s going to want a bath and he’ll be happy to let you help bathe him. after too, it’ll be all he thinks about for days, so most likely the next time you have sex it’ll be him shyly requesting it.

micah’s another one who bites off more than he can chew. he’ll act all confident saying he’s not scared of nothin’ until the situation actually dawns on him and all of a sudden he’s trying to hide his face behind his hair or hat. he’s self-conscious and even when you’ve been together for a while he’ll keep his shirt on. your first time together is most likely not full sex, but instead just getting him off to help him adjust to an intimate setting. when you do have penetrative sex he’s shaking. you need to be slow with micah because this isn’t something he’s used to, but once you’re further into it and you’ve convinced him to just lay down and turn off his brain then he’s better about it and manages to relax and just take the pleasure you’re giving him. may or may not even cry too, but because he’s never felt truly loved before not because he’s in pain. he’s scared sex will make him feel like a woman, but with enough confirmation from you he loosens up and for the most part the fear and thoughts subside. of course in the future he’s less anxious, but for a new setting it’s absolutely terrifying to him. he won’t be very vocal, so you’ll kind of have to observe him and figure out what he’s okay with, where squeezing him is uncomfortable and where it feels good. he flushes at kisses really easily, and giving lots of those will make him huffy. he wants to push you away so badly but inevitably he loves it. 

he’ll want to skip the foreplay first, half out of embarrassment and half out of thinking foreplay isn’t ‘manly’ enough to him. however once you convince him to let you do your thing and you’ve got your mouth on him he’s like putty. being eaten out is a luxury he surprisingly loves to indulge in. sucking on his clit has him almost wailing, he might actually need to put a pillow over his face to muffle and ground himself. once you have your fingers in him he’ll be convulsing around them and he won’t even notice that he’s grinding back onto them. he can get fussy, telling you to hurry up and ‘get it over with’ but his mouth will shut the second you spread his legs any wider. micah likes getting his pussy slapped, and even if you feel it’s a little too rough for a first time, he’ll genuinely fold beneath you at the feeling of your hand or cock slapping against his clit. he may or may not suck your dick if he’s feeling confident enough to, most likely he’ll give you a hand job if you feel it’ll settle his nerves. he’s intimidated of course but with time he gets his own rhythm going and ends up being pretty amazing at it. 

at first he’ll probably want to be on his stomach where he can’t see your face and vice versa. but if he was the one to initiate, he’ll try to ride you as a spur of the moment thing until he’s actually hovering over your dick and realizes he doesn’t know what to do and he turns bashful. his face gets red very easily so he’d instinctively want to hide it. he’ll groan everytime you pull him into a kiss, and his eyes get a little glossy when he hears you whisper into his neck as you nip and suck on it. micah shivers every time your hands move his hair out of the way, and feeling you grip it when you fuck him from the back makes his heart swell and his cunt throb. being on his stomach also means he can muffle his moans, but if anyone overhears him anyway at least he can say he’s having better sex then they are. if you take him on his back, expect him to keep his head down the whole time. he won’t say it but he’ll love it if you move down closer to him where he can put his face in your shoulder and also wrap himself around you. his head will end up falling back when he’s close but at that point he can’t think straight enough to care. 

micah isn’t that loud no matter where you’re having sex. he’ll huff and puff a lot and he’ll sound like he’s out of breath almost every second you’re fucking. he does moan, but he tries to hide it. usually it’s when his clit is being stimulated, he’ll start with a groan but when you’re thrusting into him and circling his clit at the same time his back will arch and moans will eventually spill out of him. he’s the loudest when he’s cumming when your cock is as deep in him as it can get and you’re palming at his clit in sync with your thrusts he’ll moan as he gushes onto your cock before going limp and only letting out heavy breaths and incoherent mumbling. it is possible to get him real loud if you’re continuously fucking him and hitting a specific spot without stopping then if he doesn’t choke on his breath you can manage to rack out some real moans from him. over time as your relationship progresses and he gets more confident/comfortable something in his brain will switch off and you’ll find that he starts letting out soft moans just from kissing his neck or squeezing his hips. he doesn’t talk much during sex, at least not for your first time. he may say something to provoke you into fucking him rougher but besides that he doesn’t trust himself to speak without stuttering or moaning. he’d secretly love a loud partner though, either someone who groans in his ear because he’s making you feel that good, or someone who talks a lot since he gets off on dirty talk. 

micah is of course another boy who gets real tense the first time he takes your dick. it frustrates him because he wants to appear fearless, but in reality it’s a new intrusion for his body and he fears the vulnerability that comes with it. it helps to soothe him not with words but with actions, thumbing circles into his hips and thighs or kissing him all over his face and neck and chest; really anything to distract him from the imposing length sliding into him between his legs. he’ll be gripping your arm or back, literally digging his nails into your skin as he adjusts to your size, but once you’ve bottomed out he goes still for a second as his brain attempts to catch up with everything. he’ll be tight around your cock until you start fucking him open, and then he’ll be an almost perfect fit, only tightening around you when you try to pull out to slam back into him. slow your thrusts down and micah will fuck himself back onto your cock. once he has you there’s no going back, he’ll reach back and grab your legs if you try stopping. micah’s another one who wants your cum in him but he won’t be bothered by you pulling out so long as you cum on his ass or back. he’s also like hh arthur where he overtime starts to understand the power he holds with just his pussy, and if you thought micah was bad already then you don’t even know the half of it.

after he’ll be really overwhelmed, though he won’t admit it. if you ask how he’s feeling he’ll say something kind of like “could be worse” or “just fine” but in reality he’s blissed the hell out. his heart is racing but if you point it out he’ll blame it on the adrenaline and blind lust. micah’s kind of like a once abandoned and malnourished kitten that’s being fed and given a new home. he’s stubborn but helplessly putting himself in your hands. he can’t completely believe that you love him, at least not entirely but nonetheless he can’t deny (even though he wants to) that it feels good to be held in your arms so he’ll ‘let’ you gently push his head down to rest on your chest. he’ll shoo your hand away if you try to clean him up. micah also won’t be up for a second round, he’ll be too sensitive. he takes a while to recuperate after an orgasm, both physically and mentally (even after just a single round his pussy gets all puffy and tender) but there is a chance that the next morning (if he hasn’t run off somewhere for a job) he’ll want to go again, however you’ll have to actually figure that out yourself because no way in hell is he going to actually tell you with his words. 

with javier your first time together will more likely than not be in a hotel room that he rented out after a well-paying job. javier knows he’s pretty, he’ll make sure he’s sitting up straight so that you get a good view of his body as it’s complemented by glossy damask and dim lighting. his hair will be down, freshly washed and brushed. he smells of stolen cologne, and when you put his hand to your lips to kiss it you can smell a small spritz of perfume. he’s a swift romantic, holding onto either side of your face as you kiss, beckoning you to run your hands through his hair and down his body. he’ll scold you with a smile if he feels you getting too handsy, but it’s just an excuse so that he can press your hands down against the silk sheets and let him have his way. javier will rock into your clothed hips and then act like you’ve done something perverse when he feels you hardening against him. he’ll undress after making sure you’re staying still, slowly undoing each button with grace until his shirt falls from his shoulders and is pushed onto the floor. javier will love it if you’re impatient because then he can watch you writhe beneath him as he just barely gives you enough touch to keep you painfully hard. he’ll also give you a mark or two on your neck, half because he loves giving you any kind of touch and half because he wants people to know that you’re together (as if they don’t already know). 

he’ll make you cum first, to your surprise. he jerks you off, slowly, to make you think he’s just trying to get you hard. but your mistake will be telling him you’re close, because he’ll just jerk you off faster until you cum on his hand. why does he do this? just to torture you, most likely. maybe he ‘cleans’ your dick, taking you completely down his throat until you cum again, and then he’ll get on his back and spread his legs to circle and slap his clit, taunting you in a mixture of spanish and english. he wants you desperate, he wants to see the look on your face when your cock enters him and how even when you’re so sensitive that it hurts you’ll still fuck him. he’ll push you away if you try putting your mouth on him, teasing you about ‘being in a rush’. he’ll arch his back and spread his folds to show off his glistening cunt. javier is patient, and even more sadistic. he wants you pleading and throbbing for him.

javier isn’t picky about positions, but he’ll definitely want to see your face for your first time together. he’ll ride you and it’ll be both the best and worst experience of your life. he’s good with his hips, but he’s a little bit too good. he knows how to make you feel good and he knows far too well how to get you to the brink of insanity. he goes slow first to figure out his rhythm and he’ll mentally note every reaction you make to what he does just so he can use it against you. he’ll bounce in your lap before slowing to a grind, being sure to take you as deep as he can. he wants to know what makes you twitch and groan and throb and what words make your hips jump into his, and the best way to do that is when he has full control, if you let him have it. take him onto his back and he’ll still do the same except now he has to take everything you dish out, which he can and will. javier will suddenly lift himself off your dick just to watch how your body seeks him out, because no matter what with a pussy like his he will always be the one in control. 

javier can be as loud as he can be quiet. he’s another talkative one where he’ll mostly be trying to get you worked up with condescending praise or whatever he figures out gets you hot and bothered when he whispers it in your ear. he’s at his loudest if you turn the tables on him and get him on his back, preferably after he’s already cum once, then he’ll be extra sensitive but with how much more you’ll need to fuck him to get him close again he won’t be able to hold back. he might exaggerate his moans just a little bit as a way to tease you, especially if he knows there may be someone who will hear it but overall your first time together he isn’t going to be as loud as you may expect however a second round can reveal a different side of javier. if you manage to dominate him then he really has no other choice but to moan about it. give him slow or quick deep thrusts as you circle his clit and he’ll have to bite his lip to quiet him. 

of course he takes dick amazingly well. he doesn’t get wet as quick as some of the others mentioned in this list but that doesn’t matter when the foreplay goes on for so long. his pussy isn’t that slick but it is tight. he knows when to grip around you so that you’re reeling at every roll of his hips, which is why he prefers to ride you because he loves to drive you crazy. and since javier’s a very patient man, he’s not afraid to literally hop off your dick if you’re getting too close to orgasm for his taste. he knows he’s a good fuck and he wants to prolong it as long as he can without driving himself crazy since he does need clitoral stimulation to cum. javier’s a master at controlling your orgasm as well as his own and he’s fully prepared to keep you on the edge until you can’t take it anymore and have to flip him over so you can pound him, which he’ll appreciate the excuse to get back at you tenfold. it’s a dangerous game with javier, and if you manage to find the time to spend nights and days with him it can get a little addicting. 

afterwards you’ll share a bath, where you will both wash up and also have, more likely than not, another round unless you’re really tuckered out. he likes feeling your skin against his when he helps wash you and when you wash him. move his hair out of the way to kiss his shoulder or neck and he’ll let out a pleased hum before resting back in your arms for a while. maybe even suck a spot into his skin so you can match, the thought of others seeing the evidence of your long night together will do things to him. he’ll be less talkative but still making conversation just to fill the silence, mostly teasing you about your earlier actions. when in bed it takes a while for javier to fall asleep. sex energizes him more than it makes him tired unless it was particularly arduous, but he’ll drift off with you easily if you rub circles into his skin and softly kiss him or talk to him in a hushed voice. if you end up being in the mood, he’ll definitely want to have another go in the morning as long as there’s time for him to get another bath afterwards. 

might make a second part for this to talk about more general things. this is my first time writing for sean javier and micah so i hope it's not terrible lmao. was thinking about writing for john but i might have to have some practice. if i add him here ill make a post but i wanted to get this out because i've had this in the works for so long.

[averycutesalamander]

pls write yan!boothill OMG WHO SAID THAT

ohoho....!! i must confess that im quite picky when it comes to yandere content, bc i don't particularly like the extreme end of the spectrum. physical violence and straight noncon in particular don't click for me (absolutely no shade to people who like that tho, you do you!!) buuuuuuut ..... i mean, im the one writing?? so i can do whatever i want??? so alright here you go :) also check my reblog for.. a lot of rambling lmao

may i present to you: my interpretation of boothill in love, but he has a few too many screws loose. warning for relatively vague descriptions of violence and, uh... yandere stuff. you know how it goes.

In all honesty, Boothill is not a "love at first sight" type. His attraction to you is a gradual, budding thing, built over many repeated encounters. He's emotionally isolated himself, after all - built a wall thick enough to muffle the whispers of his past, smothering it in a slurry of rage and sorrow. It'll take time for him to let down his guard for long enough to even register the feelings you conjure in him - a flutter in his chest every time you smile at him, a spark of joy every time he makes you laugh, a strike of fondness every time he looks at your pretty face when you aren't paying attention.

And beneath it all, a low, simmering greed, a hunger, a yearning; the urge to bite and devour and never let go.

The pressure builds with time, as the two of you grow closer. He visits often, though not so often that it would catch the IPC's attention. You laugh and joke and tease, playfully flirting with him yet keeping a healthy, platonic distance. (He very pointedly and stubbornly ignores the way his heart soars when you look at him like that - like you want to pull him into your bed and let him take you apart, piece by ruinous piece. It's just harmless fun, after all.)

(Right?)

Despite the yawning fractures in the wall he's created, despite the increasing complexity of his feelings for about you, he still hasn't untangled whatever complicated web of feelings that's arisen around you, content to leave himself oblivious for the time being - until you make a joke about him marrying you and sweeping you away on some bizarre galactic adventure, and he damn-near bluescreens.

(He hates, hates, hates that the first thing he feels is something adjacent to the feeling a cat gets when it finally corners a particularly unruly mouse, akin to the thrill he gets whenever an enemy exposes a weakness. A sick, twisted kind of satisfaction.)

His mind churns as the wall cracks, wavers-

...and crumbles.

He panics. He makes a flimsy excuse about getting a notification through his neurochip, about needing to help out a fellow ranger - and he feels even better worse when you believe him unhesitatingly, sending him off with a sweet little "Be safe!" just as you always do.

It's only after he leaves the planet that he thinks about how much you've grown to trust him, about how damn gullible you are, about how often you give him the benefit of the doubt, about how kindly you've always treated him in spite of (or perhaps because of) his dozens of strange quirks. Everything unravels, threads spilling from his fraying mind and spilling between his fingers, and when the tattered fabric settles-

He simply can't deny it. He's in love with you.

It takes some time for him to piece himself back together - weeks of complete silence from him, your texts going unanswered. Every time he sees a fresh notification from you, his heart twists with guilt - but he's not ready to face the music. Not yet.

He comes crawling back to you, sooner or later. He knocks on your door with the most sheepish, guilt-ridden look on his face that you've ever seen, a rich bouquet laden with yellow roses and purple hyacinths tucked timidly in his arms. He lies about why he left - says it was all because of a mission that got more complicated than it should have, and it wasn't safe to reply to your messages - but when he tells you that he's sorry, he means it genuinely.

He's a bit disturbed by the sensation in his gut - that foul, wicked satisfaction when you accept his apology with barely a slap on the wrist, cheerily inviting him inside to catch up. You tuck the flowers neatly into a vase, chatting easily with him as you carefully arrange them.

"It's alright!" you say, waving dismissively at him when he murmurs another apology. "I know you're busy. I can't be your biggest priority, obviously. You've got more important things going on."

(You don't have a clue how wrong you are.)

He integrates back into your life like he never left. When he has the time, he sneaks his way back onto your planet, knocking on your door or searching for you in your usual spots. You get impossibly closer; your playful flirting goes from blatantly humorous to something foggier, something more ambiguous, teasing the line between platonic and something heavier. He matches you step by step, returning your advances with just a little extra spice, his eyes a bit darker and his smile a bit wider.

He tries to be patient - god, does he try - but there's an itch that's bloomed beneath his metal, impossible to scratch, impossible to sate, made worse by every little joke you make about kissing him or touching him or marrying him or letting him spirit you away. The pressure builds further and further, the tension winding tighter and tighter, the anticipation bubbling higher and higher.

(He will never, ever admit that he truly contemplates stealing you away, crowding you onto a ship and carting you off so he can always keep an eye on you, can always guarantee your safety. His paranoia has been building since he recognized his feelings for you; it's taken every ounce of restraint in his body to stop himself from giving into the urge, from crowding you, from suffocating you, from locking you away like a fragile songbird in a cage.)

(He's torn between his protectiveness and his understanding that you deserve freedom. You deserve independence and a life that isn't tied directly to him. He doesn't even know if you return his feelings. But...)

(But there's that nagging feeling in the back of his head, that pestering little voice that grows louder by the day. You'll be safer with me, it says, dark and tempting, bursting behind his teeth. I can make you happy. I can keep you safe. I can show you pieces of the universe that you've never seen before. I can love you like no one else ever could. I can hold you and cherish you and consume you and-)

(He takes that little voice and wraps his hands tight around its throat, frantically trying to suffocate the noise, terrified by its allure. But it's always there, lingering, lurking - because the call is coming from inside the house.)

Something gives, eventually.

When he inevitably breaks, his lips crashing heatedly and messily into yours, there are two paths ahead - but the difference is ultimately moot, because they collide not long after.

Perhaps you reciprocate. Perhaps you melt against his lips, your arms coiling around his shoulders and drawing him further into you. Perhaps you whimper when his hands trail downward, squeezing at your hips. Perhaps you pull away with a gasp, your pupils blown wide, your heart pounding when you see the look in his eye - dark and hot and desperate and hungry. Perhaps you accept his quiet declaration of affection with open arms, returning it in full, your eyes sparkling with joy.

Or perhaps you reject him. Perhaps you freeze like a startled deer before pushing him away, your face slack with shock. Perhaps you apologize, stumbling over your words, your heart thundering in your chest when you see the look in his eye - dark and cold and empty and hungry. Perhaps you gently tell him that you don't feel that way about him - that you only see him as a friend.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because Boothill - careful, meticulous Boothill - has slipped up, and the IPC finds you.

After he leaves next, whether that be with a broken heart or a giddy one, a trio of IPC employees pluck you up from the street in broad daylight, shoving you into a dark transport ship for "questioning." And once they bring you to an IPC space station, they do indeed question you - though it feels more like an interrogation, considering that you've been tied ankle-and-wrist to a chair like you're a dangerous serial killer and not a regular civilian.

"Suspected colluding with the criminal known as Boothill," your "interviewer" tells you flatly, idly thumbing at the knife in their hand. "Camera footage, reports from neighbors, records from his Synesthesia Beacon... All clearly show that he has made repeated visits to your planet and your home. We're in the business of knowing why."

Perhaps you keep your mouth shut and refuse to divulge anything, no matter how close that knife gets to your bare skin. Perhaps you break when it begins to slice into your flesh, drawing blood from your body and tears from your eyes and stuttered words from your lips. Perhaps you grit your teeth and bear it, unwilling to betray the man you've grown so fond of.

Or perhaps you cave immediately. Perhaps you sell him down the river the first chance you get, frantic explanations spilling from your lips. Perhaps you tell them that you had no idea he had such a massive bounty on his head. Perhaps you panic when they find the information insufficient and draw the knife on you anyway, deaf to your begging and pleading as they wet your skin with blood.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

...Because a distant explosion rocks the entire space station, and the flashing lights from the silent alarms interrupt your interrogation.

You're left alone when the IPC agent flees, locking the door behind them with a heavy clunk. Minutes pass as you fumble desperately with your restraints, your body pulsing with pain; a cacophony of gunshots and screaming penetrates the thick walls, growing louder and louder, your heart pounding faster and faster.

There's a noise just outside the door - a horrifically wet noise, like raw flesh on tile. You freeze like a rabbit that's just heard the panting of a starving wolf, far too close for comfort.

Silence. Your head aches from the flashing red lights.

Suddenly, steel fingers wedge into the gap between the locked door and the wall, single-handedly tearing it open and breaking the hydraulic lock with inhuman ease. Metal crunches and squeals, piercing the quiet - and there he stands, right in the doorway, a silhouette of black and red.

Never in your life have you seen him this manic.

His white hair drips with scarlet and his teeth are bared; his eyes are alight with rage, a shock of bright crimson among the dark smears of blood and viscera that coat him head to toe. In the light of the alarms, he looks like the perfect picture of a killer from a horror movie; violence and slaughter, just waiting to be unleashed. When his gaze locks onto you, there is a long moment of utter stillness; instinctual terror floods your entire body in a cold flash, because there isn't so much as a glimmer of humanity in those eyes - only pure, boiling, ravenous, frantic anger.

For a heartbeat, you're convinced he's going to rip you apart with his teeth.

Then, as if he finally registers who you are, the madness evaporates, replaced by a nearly manic sort of relief. He rushes to your side, looking you over; you don't miss the flash in his eyes - seething, smoking fire - when he spots your injuries. In the same breath, he snuffs it out, focusing instead on breaking your binds with his bare hands.

You're already crying when he takes you up into his arms, cradling you close to his chest and unwittingly smearing IPC blood onto you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he murmurs, soft and reassuring, a beacon of comfort in a sea of terror. "I'm right here. I've got ya. No one's ever gonna take ya from me again, okay?"

(Maybe if you weren't in shock, you'd be startled by his words. As it stands, though, they're like music to your ears, like a warm blanket settled over your shoulders, like a tight hug from someone you trust with your life.)

He encourages you to press your face into his shoulder - mercifully free of blood - as he carries you through the carnage he's left in his wake, the jangle of his spurs and your muffled sobs echoing through the silent halls. Your entire body shivers at the noise of him stepping into some unidentifiable slurry of viscera, and he thumbs at your back in an effort to soothe you, speaking quietly into your ear about everything and nothing.

Time passes in a blur of tears. He takes you to the ship he, uh... commandeered to get here, ducking into the bathroom and settling you gently - so very gently - onto the floor. Or, rather, he tries to - because your fingers are frozen stiff in his jacket, your grip unrelenting.

"You just wait here for a sec, alright?" he whispers softly, the chill of his hand settling lightly against your wrist; the blood there still feels warm to your delirious mind. "Gotta get the autopilot started, okay? I'll be right back."

You're both surprised when you shake your head insistently, your eyes wet and pleading. In an instant, he softens, his heart aching in his chest.

"Alright, sweetpea," he breathes, carefully picking you up again. "I've got ya."

He keeps you cradled to his chest as he walks to the cockpit, holding you easily with one arm as he gets the ship moving. Reinforcements are on the way, no doubt - but you'll both be long gone by the time they get here.

(Maybe the IPC will get the message when they find the scene he's left behind - when they view the camera footage and see the rampage he went on. Decapitation and disembowelment is a new one, even for him...)

(...but he needed to make it clear that no one, no one, touches what's his and gets away with it.)

When the engine is purring beneath his feet and the rumble of FTL travel is humming in the walls, he brings you back to the washroom and settles you to the tile again, gently untangling your grip from his jacket. You're in shock, he's sure, so he's careful to continue talking to you as he wets a towel with warm water, murmuring soft reassurances as he wipes the blood from your skin, handling you like you're glass.

Once you're clean, he messily towels himself off to get the worst of the mess off, then brings you to the captain's quarters, digging around in the closet to find something comfortable for you. Your shaking fingers cause you trouble, so he gently eases your ruined clothes off, his eyes respectfully averted as he helps you redress. He takes one look at the messy, used bedding and promptly decides to change the sheets. (Something within him stirs and snarls at the thought of you smelling like anyone else.)

Finally, when all is said and done, he eases you beneath the covers, brushing away the last remnants of your tears. His heart is torn between singing with joy and aching with pain when you reach up and take his hand in yours, your fingers wrapping tight around his.

"Gotta go wash up, honey," he murmurs, watching you closely as you sink into the protective huddle of the blankets, exhaustion painting your features. "That alright? I'll be fast."

(He tries very hard to ignore the flutter in his chest from the look in your eye - like you're genuinely considering whether or not you need to stay near him, like you aren't sure if you can bear the distance.)

(He also tries very hard to ignore the little pang of disappointment when you slowly nod, releasing his hand.)

He cleans himself up with record efficiency, resigning himself to wearing clothes that are a size or two too small until he can wash his usual outfit. The clothes are for your sake, really; it's not like he has any, uh... equipment to expose - not yet - but he's relatively sure that it would make you uncomfortable anyway.

By the time he steps lightly into the room again, you're asleep.

For a long, long moment, he's struck stupid by the sight of you, by the softness of your face in rest.

Fuck, you're beautiful. He knows it in his heart, feels it in his core, senses it in his chest - you're the prettiest little thing he's ever seen.

(And you're all his, now.)

His fists clench, and he swallows down the thought like bitter poison. (You deserve better than this - better than him. He's a broken man, he knows - a messy reconfiguration of a thousand corpses, glued together by hatred and grief. He could never love you the way you deserve. He could never-)

He's broken from his rapidly spiraling thoughts when you twitch, a tiny furrow appearing in your brow. A surge of emotion nearly bursts in his chest - the urge to comfort, to protect, to soothe - and he slowly circles to the other side of the bed, climbing into the empty space and settling beneath the blankets. Hesitantly, he wraps one arm lightly around your waist, drawing you against him with your back pressed tight to his chest.

His heart soars when he feels you instantly relax, the tension fleeing your body.

(It's fine. This is fine. He'll make everything better. No matter what he has to do, who he has to kill, he'll make everything better.)

A handful of days pass like that. When he stops by a market to get supplies for you, he gently tells you that it's best for you to stay in the ship for now; odds are that you actually have a bounty on your head as well, now.

(He's not wrong - but he also doesn't need to disable the button on the inside of the ship that opens the exit hatch. You don't need to know that; he doesn't need to acknowledge that.)

As time passes, he tries not to suffocate you, tries not to hover, wary of putting you under any more stress - but it's ultimately a useless task.

When you finally, tentatively ask him about going home, his brain goes numb, the world snapping into sharp focus. He turns his gaze to you, disturbingly absent of emotion.

"It ain't safe for ya there, now that those IPC dogs know to look for ya," he says, his voice far too even.

When tears begin to bud in your eyes, it finally sweeps up some sympathy in his chest, his entire face softening. He takes your shaking hands in his, tenderly grazing your knuckles with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he rasps, reaching up to wipe away your tears.

(He's barely sorry.)

"I don't like it either, but..."

(Yes, he does.)

"It's safest for ya to stick with me, alright?"

(Wishful thinking. He could find somewhere for you to stay - some quiet planet outside of the IPC's reach, where you could live without worry. He could send you credits regularly. He could make sure you were happy and secure, independent of him.)

(He could. He should.)

(He won't.)

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART SEVEN

paige x azzi

warnings: mention of drug use, sexual content

word count: 8.3k

A/N: This chapter has a few different time jumps so don’t skip over the dates lmao or you might think things are moving a little fast. Everyone’s been asking for this so here it is 🫣. I know emotions are going to be all over the place reading this one so please humor me with some live reactions 😭

—————————————————————————

February 2022

It had been about a month of the same awkward, unspoken limbo between Paige and Azzi. To anyone with eyes, it was painfully obvious the two of them liked each other—more than liked each other—but neither had made an outward move. They didn’t need to say it out loud to know why. Things between them would be complicated, and complications weren’t something either of them could afford right now.

Azzi was back on the court, fully cleared and playing with the same intensity she had before she got injured. Paige, meanwhile, was still stuck on the sidelines, a couple of weeks away from her own return. She hadn’t let that stop her from being Azzi’s biggest supporter, though. If anything, she threw herself into it even more—watching film with Azzi late into the night, breaking down plays for her, doing anything she could to make her job easier on the court. They had also gotten back into the habit of going to the gym together all the time at all hours of the night.

Overall their routine hadn’t changed much, but something beneath it had. The soft flirting they used to do had picked up and Paige quickly learned just how handsy Azzi was, how affectionate she was, how she would purposefully bite her lip while looking up at Paige. For Paige, it was becoming almost physically painful to be around Azzi without saying something—without telling her just how much she liked her. It was there in the way her heart raced when Azzi laughed, in the way her chest ached when their hands brushed accidentally. But every time the words hovered on the tip of her tongue, she swallowed them back down, convincing herself it wasn’t the right time. Knowing they had a silent agreement.

Azzi, for her part, seemed oblivious to how much Paige was feeling—or maybe she was just better at hiding it. Hiding just how much she felt too. She was her usual steady self, focused and unflappable, though there were moments when her gaze lingered on Paige just a little too long, or her smile softened in a way that felt almost too tender.

Now, as they sat in Paige’s dorm, that same quiet tension hung between them. The TV played in the background, but neither of them was paying attention. Azzi’s fingers absentmindedly played with Paige’s, a habit that had started sometime over the past few months and somehow became a comfort for both of them. Paige’s gaze dropped to their hands, watching the way Azzi’s fingertips traced the curves of hers.

Something about it—about her—felt so intimate, so significant in Paige’s life—that made Paige’s heart race and ache all at once. Her eyes hesitantly drifted to Azzi’s face, taking in the way her soft smile lit up the room. It was the kind of smile Azzi always gave her, warm and easy, but this time Paige’s stomach flipped, her heart pounding harder.

Azzi noticed the shift in her demeanor immediately, her smile faltering slightly as her brows knitted together. “What’s up, P?” she asked gently, tilting her head to study Paige’s expression.

Paige’s lips parted as if to answer, but no words came out. She turned her gaze away, her heart hammering too loudly in her chest for her to think straight. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, shaking her head.

Azzi’s fingers stilled against hers, and she shifted closer, her tone soft but persistent. “Hey… talk to me. What’s going on?”

Paige hesitated, glancing down at their hands again. She exhaled a shaky breath before finally lifting her eyes to meet Azzi’s. Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Az, do you like me?”

Azzi froze, her breath catching at the unexpected question they had been dancing around. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, completely caught off guard by the fragile, hesitant way Paige had asked. Her heart stuttered as she processed the weight behind the words.

“Of course I like you, Paige,” she finally said, her voice soft but steady.

Paige bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a moment before she looked back at Azzi, her eyes searching. “Then why don’t we ever talk about it?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

Azzi blinked, struggling to find the right words. She glanced away, running her thumb over Paige’s knuckles before meeting her gaze again. “Because I’m scared,” she admitted quietly.

Paige’s brow furrowed, her chest tightening. “Scared of what?”

Azzi hesitated, her own heart racing now. She could feel the vulnerability in her chest, raw and exposed, but something about the way Paige looked at her—so open, so unsure—made her want to be completely honest.

“I’m scared of how you make me feel,” Azzi said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m 19 and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. It’s like… it’s like I’ve known you my entire life. Like everything before UConn, me not being able to stand the sight of you, you being the rudest person I’d met didn’t happen. And that scares me, P. It scares me that all I remember about you now is this charming, sweet, beautiful version of you that I just got to know.”

Paige’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching as Azzi’s words washed over her.

Azzi looked down at their hands, her voice trembling slightly. “But I’m also scared that if I admit why I feel this way… if something goes wrong… I’ll lose you. And you’re not just… this person I like, Paige. You're not just one of my teammates. You’re my best friend and I can’t mess that up.”

The confession hung in the air, making the air heavy. Paige’s heart clenched, her throat tightening as she processed Azzi’s words. Paige’s lips curved into a small, nervous smile, her cheeks faintly flushed as she tightened her grip on Azzi’s fingers. Her voice was soft, almost timid, as she said, “I like you too, Az.”

Azzi’s lips twitched into a smile, the corners quirking up slightly. She tilted her head, a playful yet knowing glint in her eyes. “I know you do,” she whispered, her tone light but her gaze warm, almost tender.

Paige let out a soft, breathy laugh, but it quickly faded as her mind went elsewhere. Her gaze flickered to Azzi’s lips for the briefest moment before her eyes found hers again. “I really want to kiss you. I always want to kiss you,” she admitted, her voice barely audible, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the delicate moment between them.

Azzi’s fingers stilled against Paige’s. For a second, the idea tempted her, pulling at her heartstrings, imagining how soft Paige’s lips would be against hers, but she exhaled slowly and shook her head gently. “We can’t, P,” she said softly, her tone firm but kind.

Paige’s brows furrowed slightly, and Azzi didn’t miss the flicker of hurt that flashed in her eyes. It was gone almost as quickly as it appeared, but it lingered enough to twist something in Azzi’s chest.

Paige looked down at their hands, her voice quiet but insistent as she voiced the real reason neither of them ever mentioned their feelings. “Teammates date all the time, Az. It’s not like it would be a big deal.”

Azzi gave her a sad smile, squeezing her hand lightly. “But they also break up all the time,” she said softly. “And then things get weird all the time. And someone ends up having to leave, most of the time.”

Azzi paused, glancing away as if gathering her thoughts. When she looked back at Paige, her gaze was steady, though her voice remained gentle. “I like it here, P. I like it here with you. With the team. And…” She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I’ve wanted this—playing at UConn—since I was a kid. It was all I dreamed of and I don’t want to lose that.”

Paige’s lips parted as if to respond, but Azzi beat her to it.

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Azzi said, her voice quiet but earnest.

Paige’s chest ached at the sincerity in Azzi’s words, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. Then, her lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “Who said it would be you that left?” she asked softly.

Azzi’s expression softened even further, her eyes locking with Paige’s. She shook her head slightly, her voice calm and sure. “You’re Paige Bueckers,” she murmured. “It’s gonna be me.”

The words hung in the air between them, the few words saying everything Azzi didn’t need to explain. Paige hummed quietly, her lips pressing into a thin line before she leaned forward, resting her cheek gently on Azzi’s head.

That was all Azzi needed to say as their conversation tapered off, the silence that followed filled with unspoken understanding. Both of them knew what was at stake, and though it hurt, there was a quiet agreement between them—a fragile truce between their hearts and their reality.

Azzi’s hand returned to Paige’s, her fingers resuming their slow, absent-minded play. Paige’s gaze flickered toward the TV, though she wasn’t really watching the movie anymore as her mind wandered. She sighed softly, letting herself relax against Azzi as she kissed the top of her head.

April 2022

It was April now, and the season had officially come to an end. They lost in the championship, though no one talks about that. They’re all just trying to move on and enjoy the time they have left with the seniors. The two of them had barely spoken about their feelings for one another since the night in Paige’s dorm. Nothing had changed between them, but at the same time, everything felt different. The way Paige looked at Azzi with her blue eyes made her breath catch in her throat everytime and every time she would play it off by pushing Paige’s face away mumbling something she would never clarify. Paige was basically whipped and would do anything Azzi asked without hesitation and everyone noticed.

Now, they were lying in Azzi’s room, the faint hum of Paige’s playlist filling the quiet space. Paige was stretched out on her stomach, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, while Azzi sat cross-legged at the head of the bed, twisting a strand of her hair between her fingers.

Paige glanced up, her brows furrowing as she caught the nervous energy radiating from Azzi. The girl was unusually quiet, her eyes flickering toward Paige every few seconds before darting away again.

Setting her phone aside, Paige shifted to sit up. “Okay, what’s going on? Seriously, Azzi, why are you being so weird today?”

Azzi froze, her fingers stilling in her hair. Her jaw tightened as if she were trying to hold something back, but after a long pause, she exhaled sharply and blurted, “I have a date.”

For a moment, Paige didn’t react. She couldn’t have heard her correctly as the words hung in the air between them, and then, slowly, she processed them and the impact hit. Her body stiffened, and she immediately sat up straighter, instinctively leaning back a little to stand up.

“Oh,” Paige said softly, her voice clipped. She tried to mask the hurt, but her expression betrayed her. The usual flicker of pain in her eyes was brief, but this time it lingered and it twisted something deep in Azzi’s stomach as she looked at her..

“Wait.” Azzi reached out quickly, her hand wrapping around Paige’s wrist before she could pull away completely. “Please don’t do that. Sit back down and just listen.”

Paige hesitated, her gaze hardening slightly as she stared at Azzi’s hand on her wrist. “Do what?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Azzi softened her grip, but she didn’t let go. “You know what I mean,” she said quietly. “Don’t pull away from me.”

Reluctantly, Paige let herself sink back onto the bed, though the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease. “So...you have a date,” she said, forcing the words out as if testing how they sounded in her mouth. “That’s great, Az. Really. Good for you.”

Azzi sighed, sensing the sarcasm, but she ignored it. “Paige,” she said, her voice quieter now. She shifted closer, still holding Paige’s wrist as if afraid she might bolt. “I just need you to be my best friend and support me in this just for tonight. No matter how much neither of us wants this.”

Paige’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “Why are you even going, then?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.

Azzi’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t respond. Her gaze dropped to their hands, where her thumb traced absent patterns on Paige’s skin. “Because I need to at least try,” she admitted finally, her voice trembling with vulnerability. “I need to at least try to figure out if anyone else can make me feel the way you do. Feel even a fraction of what you make me feel.”

Paige inhaled sharply at this, her chest feeling almost painful as she listened to Azzi. She turned her face away, but Azzi wasn’t having it. Her free hand came up, gently cupping Paige’s cheek and guiding her back. Their eyes met, and Azzi’s own gaze softened.

“These silent feelings between us hurt too much, P,” Azzi whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “So I need to at least try. So I know what I need to do.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at the simple thought of Azzi being with someone else. At the thought of Azzi still needing to figure things out when Paige knew exactly how she felt. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she nodded and said, “Fine.”

Azzi swallowed hard, her hand dropping back to Paige’s. “So tonight you’re just going to be my best friend. You’re going to help me get ready,” she continued, her tone firm but gentle. “You’re going to tell me if I look nice enough before I leave. And when I come back, you’re going to let me tell you about it. Good or bad.”

A tear slipped down Paige’s cheek and she felt so damn dramatic, but Azzi didn’t mind as she caught it, her touch lingering. “Can I meet them?” Paige asked, her voice a little hoarse.

Azzi’s smile softened as she nodded. “Of course.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, the silence between them louder than the music playing softly in the background. Paige’s shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned back, letting Azzi hold her hand for a little longer.

…

Azzi stood in front of her closet, two shirts in hand, her nerves bubbling just beneath the surface. She wasn’t even nervous about the date. She was nervous she would hate it, nervous what it meant for her and Paige. The knock at the door hadn’t come yet, but she knew it was only a matter of minutes. She turned to Paige, who sat quietly on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in her lap as her gaze lingered somewhere near Azzi’s shoes lost in her own thoughts.

Holding up both shirts, Azzi cleared her throat. “Which one?” she asked softly, her voice laced with hesitation. “The red or the white?”

Paige blinked, her head lifting as she regarded the options. She pointed to the red shirt after a moment, her voice steady but quieter than usual. “Red. It makes your eyes look...brighter.”

The comment hit Azzi harder than Paige intended. Her heart ached, but she swallowed it down, nodding as she turned back toward the closet. “Red it is,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Paige’s eyes followed Azzi as she changed into the chosen shirt, her movements slow and deliberate. She tried not to let her emotions show, but the faint furrow of her brows and the way she pressed her lips together betrayed her.

When Azzi finally turned around, fully dressed, Paige’s breath caught for a moment. She offered a soft, sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Azzi hesitated before stepping closer, the space between them narrowing until she was standing between Paige’s legs. She placed her hands gently on Paige’s shoulders, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric of Paige’s sweatshirt.

“I’m sorry, P,” Azzi whispered, her voice cracking slightly. Her dark eyes searched Paige’s face, pleading for understanding.

Paige looked up at her, her lips parting as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of Azzi’s shirt. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You look beautiful, Az.”

The sincerity in her tone made Azzi’s chest tighten. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, a sharp knock echoed through the room.

The sound was jarring, cutting through the moment like a blade. Azzi flinched slightly, her hands still resting on Paige’s shoulders as her gaze darted toward the door.

Paige’s hand fell back into her lap, and she looked down, her expression unreadable. Azzi hesitated, torn between the pull of the person waiting on the other side of the door and the weight of the person sitting in front of her.

Paige and Azzi knew it was only one day. They knew it was just a few hours. But they also knew that the outcome of these few hours could change a lot for them so it felt much heavier than it needed to.

After a beat, she took a deep breath and squeezed Paige’s shoulders gently before stepping away. “I...should get that,” Azzi said.

Paige nodded, her eyes never leaving the floor. “Yeah. You should.”

Azzi lingered for a moment longer, the silence between them heavy, before turning toward the door.

A few moments later Azzi walked back into the room, her keys in hand and her purse slung over her shoulder. Paige hadn’t moved an inch from where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as her gaze stayed fixed on the floor.

Azzi paused, watching her for a moment before breaking the silence. “Do you still want to meet him?”

Paige’s head lifted slightly, her brows furrowing. “Him?” she repeated, her voice tinged with surprise.

Azzi nodded, noticing the surprise in Paige’s voice. “Yeah... him.”

Paige blinked, the answer catching her off guard. For some reason, she had assumed Azzi’s date was a girl. She wanted to stay put, to ignore the question and let Azzi walk out the door, but the subtle look in Azzi’s eyes—uncertain, almost pleading—made her sigh.

Without a word, Paige pushed herself off the bed, her movements stiff and reluctant. She followed Azzi down the hall and into the living room, her stomach twisting the closer they got.

When they stepped into the room, Paige’s eyes landed on a guy sitting on the couch. He stood up as Azzi approached, a friendly but slightly awkward smile on his face.

“Derrick,” Azzi said, her voice a little hesitant as she gestured between them. “This is my best friend, Paige.”

Derrick looked between the two of them, his confusion evident, though he masked it quickly. “Uh, nice to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.

Paige stared at him for a moment before sticking out her own hand, her grip firm as they shook. “Paige,” she said simply, her tone polite but distant.

“Derrick,” he replied, his smile still in place, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Why the hell was he meeting a best friend?

Azzi’s gaze flickered between them, her discomfort evident. Paige released Derrick’s hand and took a small step back, tightening her jaw as she glanced at Azzi. “Well,” she said, her voice clipped, “have fun.”

Azzi nodded, but as she turned toward the door with Derrick, she glanced back over her shoulder. “You’ll be here when I get back, right?”

Her voice was soft, almost pleading, as she looked at Paige with eyes she could never say no to. So she swallowed hard, her expression unreadable at the thought of just sitting here waiting for Azzi to get back from a fucking date, but still, she gave a small nod. “Yeah. I’ll be here.”

Azzi lingered for a moment, her eyes searching Paige’s face as if she wanted to say something more. But then Derrick shifted beside her, and the moment was gone. She turned back toward the door, leading Derrick out with a quiet goodbye.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Paige exhaled, sinking back onto the edge of the couch. The silence in the apartment felt deafening, and all she could do was sit there and wait for Azzi to come back with a decision.

…

Paige lay sprawled on Azzi’s bed, her arm resting over her eyes, but when the door creaked open, she shifted slightly, glancing up to see Azzi walking in. She didn’t say anything, and neither did Azzi at first. The room felt still, with unspoken words.

Azzi took a hesitant step forward, her voice soft as she broke the silence. “Thank you for staying.”

Paige gave her a small, tired smile, but her lips remained sealed. Azzi studied her for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. She slipped off her shoes and dropped her bag near the door, walking over to sit on the edge of her bed.

The movement made Paige sit up, her legs crossed as she now faced Azzi. The quiet stretching between them until Paige finally asked, “So... how was it?”

Azzi laughed, though the sound carried more exasperation than amusement. “It was... exhausting.” She shook her head and reached for Paige’s hand, running her fingers lightly over the soft skin. “His hands were really hard.”

Paige chuckled, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “Hard hands, huh? What a dealbreaker.”

Azzi laughed again, this time more genuine. “Yeah, and he talked too much. Like, nonstop. It was giving me a headache. And he had so much energy.” She glanced up at Paige, a teasing glint in her eye. “Kinda like you, but... I didn’t like it when he was doing it.”

Paige laughed softly, though there was still tension in her frame. “So, hard hands and a chatterbox. What else?”

Azzi paused, her fingers tightening slightly around Paige’s. Her voice dropped a little as she continued. “He tried to kiss me.”

Paige froze, her jaw tightening, though she tried to keep her expression neutral. “Did he?” she asked, her voice carefully even.

Azzi shook her head, squeezing Paige’s hand to ground her. “No. I didn’t let him.”

Paige’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though her eyes still searched Azzi’s face. “You didn’t want to?”

Azzi shook her head again, her gaze soft but steady. “No... I didn’t want to kiss him.”

The words hung between them, heavy and loaded with everything unsaid. Paige swallowed hard, her free hand playing with the comforter beneath them. “Why not?”

Azzi looked at her then, her eyes brimming with an emotion Paige couldn’t quite place. “Because he’s not you. I don’t want anybody but you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s chest felt tight at the words, her heart pounding as she held Azzi’s gaze. After a beat, she murmured, “I’m going to kiss you now Az.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly. “No, you’re not, Paige. We talked about this,” she said, her voice trembling. But there was no conviction behind her words, only a faint tremor of fear.

“Yes, I am,” Paige replied, her voice firmer this time, her gaze unwavering.

Azzi swallowed hard, her eyes darting between Paige’s eyes and her lips. “Paige...”

Paige leaned in just a fraction, her voice softer now but still resolute. “Azzi.”

Azzi’s breathing quickened, her pulse racing as her name fell from Paige’s lips. She didn’t say anything else, her silence speaking louder than words.

Paige hesitated for a moment longer, searching Azzi’s face for any sign of hesitation, any sign showing she didn’t want this. When all she saw was a mixture of nervousness and longing that was all the confirmation she needed.

Slowly, she leaned in, her movements deliberate and careful. When their lips finally met, it was as if the world around them fell away. Paige’s lips were soft, warm, and hesitant, testing the waters as if afraid to break the fragile moment.

Azzi sighed into the kiss, her hand coming up to cradle Paige’s face immediately as their lips moved together in perfect rhythm. Paige’s lips were impossibly soft which didn’t surprise her and Paige swore she could taste the faintest hint of the pineapple lip gloss Azzi always wore.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or messy. It was tender, filled with every unspoken word they’d held back for months. Paige’s hand slid up to cup Azzi’s cheek, her thumb brushing against her skin as if trying to memorize the feeling.

As they continued to kiss Azzi felt something shift deep within her, like she’d discovered a missing piece of herself in this kiss. Her fingers curled into Paige’s hair, pulling her closer as if she didn’t want her to ever let go.

After their lips finally part, they stay close, foreheads resting together as they catch their breath. Neither of them says anything at first, the silence filled with the weight of what just happened. Paige finally whispers, “That felt… right.”

Azzi lets out a shaky laugh. “It did. That’s the problem.”

Paige pulls back slightly, searching Azzi’s face. “Why does it have to be a problem? We can figure it out Az, teammates really do date all the time.”

Azzi sighs, running a hand through her hair. “They do, but it’s never simple. It changes things, P. And I don’t want us to get... messy.”

Paige frowns, her voice softer now. “It doesn’t feel messy. It feels... easy.”

Azzi smiles at her, almost wistfully. “Until it’s not. And I like us a little too much, Paige. I don’t want to lose us.”

Despite her words, Azzi doesn’t pull away completely. Instead, she stays close, her fingers tracing soft patterns along Paige’s wrist. “I’m not saying we stop, though.”

Paige raises an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Azzi bites her lip, looking a little shy as she speaks. “I don’t want to stop kissing you. Or touching you. I just... we need to figure this out without rushing into something we can’t handle.”

Paige hesitates, then nods. “So... no labels.... this?”

Azzi smiles, leaning her forehead against Paige’s again. “Just this. For now.”

July 2022

Those two words—“just this”—became the foundation of what they shared for the next few months. They didn’t need a label to define the intensity of what they felt for each other. It was in the stolen glances and whispers during events, the playful nudges when they just wanted to touch each other in public without drawing too much attention, and the way their hands would linger just a moment too long when ‘helping’ the other with something.

When they weren’t surrounded by teammates, they were all over each other, sneaking away for stolen moments whenever they could. Any excuse to feel the press of their lips, the warmth of the other’s skin, was enough. It was like they craved one another in a way neither of them had ever experienced before.

A few of their teammates had definitely caught on—walking in on them tangled up on the couch looking a little too disoriented or catching them whispering a little too closely in the locker room. But no one said anything, at least not directly. Paige and Azzi kept it to just kissing, though, never crossing the boundary they both silently agreed to respect.

Late one night, in the comfort of Azzi’s room after another heated make-out session, they found themselves lying side by side, breathless and grinning. Azzi, her cheeks flushed, tilted her head toward Paige and asked with curiosity, “How did you not have sex before I got here? You were at UConn a whole year without me. I’ve seen people throw themselves at you.”

Paige laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she propped herself up on her elbow. “I used to be a robot, remember?” she teased, grinning. “No time for distractions when I was locked in..”

Azzi chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but even robots can have moments.”

Paige smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to Azzi’s forehead. “Hm, guess I was just waiting for the right person then.”

Their connection had grown deeper with every passing day, and though they’d never said the words out loud again, both knew it was more than just physical. But that’s all they chalked it up to being for now.

Now they were back home in the DMV, where the familiarity and privacy of their hometown gave them a sense of freedom they didn’t have anywhere else.

Paige’s car was parked in their usual spot near a waterfall, the soft hum of Steve Lacy’s new album filling the quiet night air. They found it by accident once when they were looking for the parking lot of a kicking trail. It had become their place—a quiet escape from everything else. The faint rush of water mixed with the lingering scent of smoke from them smoking, something Olivia had introduced them to before she graduated. They didn’t do it often, but tonight felt right.

Paige was relaxed in the driver’s seat, her posture lazy, exuding effortless confidence. She was kind of manspreading, her grey sweats riding low on her hips, and her tank top pushed up just enough to reveal the band of her boxers. Her wavy hair was undone from the braids she’d taken out earlier, and her blue eyes were low and rimmed with a little red from smoking. Her gaze was locked on Azzi. The stupid, lopsided grin she always wore only made her look better.

Azzi sat leaning against the passenger door, her head resting on the cool glass as she tried to focus on what Paige was saying. Or at least, she thought Paige had been talking. Truthfully, Azzi hadn’t been listening for a while. Her gaze kept drifting, tracing the way Paige’s exposed skin looked and how the tank top clung to her, how casual she looked yet somehow so put together. She noticed every detail—the rise and fall of Paige’s chest, the way her fingers tapped idly against her knee, the curve of her lips when she smiled.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Paige’s voice cut through the haze, soft and teasing. “Why you all the way over there?”

“Huh?” Azzi blinked, her cheeks warming as she realized Paige was smirking at her.

Paige leaned back even more, spreading her arms over the top of the seat like she owned the world. “I said, why you all the way over there?” she repeated, gesturing lazily toward Azzi’s position against the door. “I been tryna talk to you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re so annoying,” she muttered, trying to sound unaffected, but Paige’s smirk only grew.

“Yeah ok” Paige said back, her voice dropping just enough to make Azzi’s stomach flip. “Why you here with me then? Wassup with that?”

Azzi shrugged, turning her gaze toward the windshield to avoid Paige’s lingering eyes. “Maybe I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” she teased, her voice steady despite the heat rising in her cheeks.

Paige let out a soft laugh, low and warm, the sound wrapping around Azzi like a blanket. “Oh, you’re doing me a favor now huh? That’s cute.” She tilted her head, studying Azzi with a playful intensity. “But you didn’t answer my question. Why you sitting all the way over there like I’m some stranger?”

Azzi hesitated, shifting in her seat. “I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Paige interrupted, her grin turning mischievous. She patted the console beside her. “C’mon. What, you scared of me now or something?”

Azzi scoffed, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing. “Scared of you? Please,” she said, forcing her tone to stay light.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her expression daring. “Then come here ma,” she said simply, her voice soft but commanding.

Azzi glanced at her, debating whether to give in or keep playing it cool. “You’re annoying, you know that?” she muttered as she slid across the console, settling closer to Paige.

Paige leaned slightly toward her, the distance between them now almost nonexistent. “You came over here didn’t you,” she teased, her voice dropping into a whisper.

Azzi rolled her eyes again, though it was more out of nervousness than annoyance. “Only because you wouldn’t shut up about it,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Sure,” Paige said, drawing out the word as her lips curved into a smirk. “You definitely didn’t just want to be closer to me. Totally makes sense.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, leaning back slightly to create some space. “You’re so full of yourself Paige.”

Paige laughed, the sound low and teasing. “Am I wrong, though?” she asked, her blue eyes locking onto Azzi’s. “You’ve been staring at me all night. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Azzi froze for a moment before recovering, her voice sharp with mock indignation. “I was not staring!”

Paige tilted her head, her grin widening. “Mhm. Sure you weren’t.” She leaned in just a little closer, her voice dropping lower. “It’s okay, Azzi. I get it. You can just tell me you want me.”

Azzi opened her mouth to protest, but Paige’s hand moved, brushing against Azzi’s chin and tilting her face up. The playful glint in Paige’s eyes softened, replaced by something deeper, something that made Azzi’s breath hitch.

“See? Not so scary,” Paige murmured, her thumb lightly grazing Azzi’s jaw.

Azzi swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the teasing tension between them shifted into something heavier. “I hate you,” she whispered, though her voice betrayed her, trembling just enough to make Paige’s grin return.

“And you’re blushing,” Paige countered, her voice soft and teasing as her face moved even closer.

Azzi could feel Paige’s breath now, warm and tantalizing. “Shut up,” she managed to say, though her words held no weight.

“Make me,” Paige whispered, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s.

And then, before Azzi could respond, Paige closed the gap, capturing her lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly deepened. Azzi melted into it, her hand instinctively reaching for Paige’s arm, anchoring herself as the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them and the sound of the waterfall in the background.

The kiss was slow but deep, each movement deliberate, the effects of them smoking clear in the way their lips brushed languidly against each other, their tongues tangling slowly. It was intoxicating, neither of them wanting to pull away, but when they finally did, Azzi leaned back against the passenger door, her breathing uneven.

Paige didn’t say anything, but her smirk said it all. Her lips were slightly swollen, glistening in the dim light, and Azzi couldn’t help but think about how annoyingly good she looked. Paige leaned back against the driver’s side door now, her posture relaxed as she let her eyes rake over Azzi without any attempt to hide it.

Azzi shifted under the weight of Paige’s gaze, finally breaking the silence. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Paige chuckled, the sound low and lazy. “Like what?” she asked, though the mischievous tilt of her head made it clear she knew exactly what Azzi meant.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, trying to keep her voice steady. “You’re eye-fucking me, Paige.”

Paige’s grin widened as she shrugged, entirely unbothered. “And?” she replied, her tone dripping with nonchalance, her eyes locked on Azzi.

Azzi narrowed her eyes, struggling to maintain her composure. “And you need to stop,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt.

Paige tilted her head back against the driver’s seat, her smirk deliberate. “No, I don’t,” she shot back smoothly, her confidence filling the small space between them like a slow burn.

The weight of Paige’s gaze made Azzi shift, her thighs pressing together as she crossed her legs in an attempt to quell the heat rising in her. Paige noticed immediately, of course. She always noticed the effect she had on Azzi. Her smirk deepened, and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

They stared at each other, the tension palpable. Then Paige broke the silence, her voice dropping lower, softer, almost like a confession. “You’re sexy.”

Azzi froze, her breath catching as the words warmed her entire body. The sincerity and heat in Paige’s tone made her heart pound, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Paige leaned forward slightly, the intensity in her gaze almost unbearable. “You have no idea what I wanna do to you all the time,” she murmured, her voice tinged with awe.

Azzi didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Instead, she found herself leaning forward too, drawn in by the gravity between them. Her hand moved almost on its own, resting against Paige’s thigh as her eyes dropped to Paige’s lips.

Paige noticed the hesitation and closed the distance herself, capturing Azzi’s lips in a kiss that was slower but hungrier this time. It was as if the compliment had ignited something in both of them, and they poured all of it into the kiss.

Azzi sighed softly against Paige’s mouth, her hand sliding up from Paige’s thigh to her hip, her fingers curling into the fabric of Paige’s tank top. Paige groaned quietly, a sound Azzi always loved to hear. Paige’s hand found Azzi’s jaw as she deepened the kiss, tilting her head to taste more.

When they finally pulled apart, their breaths were shallow, their foreheads resting against each other. Paige’s lips were swollen again, glistening in the dim light, but this time, Azzi didn’t look away. Her dark eyes stayed locked on Paige’s, and there was no mistaking the spark of something deeper in her gaze.

Azzi swallowed hard, her voice soft but steady when she finally spoke. “Let’s get in the back.”

Paige’s eyes widened slightly, tracing every detail of Azzi’s face as if searching for any hesitation. She knew exactly what Azzi meant by that, and the weight of the moment settled between them. “You sure?” Paige asked quietly, her voice careful and almost reverent.

Azzi nodded, her lips twitching into a small, confident smile. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It took all of two seconds for Paige to push her seat forward and climb in the backseat, her movements quick but measured. Azzi followed without hesitation, and before Paige could even settle fully, Azzi was there. She straddled Paige’s lap with ease, her legs on either side of the older girl as her hands rested on Paige’s shoulders.

Paige leaned back slightly against the seat, her hands instinctively finding Azzi’s hips to steady her. She looked up at Azzi, her blue eyes soft yet filled with an intensity that sent a shiver down Azzi’s spine.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Paige murmured, her voice low and teasing, though the sincerity beneath it was undeniable.

Azzi smirked, her hands sliding down Paige’s arms until her fingers laced with hers. “Guess we’re even, then,” she whispered, leaning down just enough for their noses to brush.

Paige chuckled softly, her grip on Azzi’s hips tightening as she let her eyes drift over Azzi’s face, soaking in every detail. “Come here,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but it carried a weight that made Azzi’s breath hitch.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, closing the small gap between them as their lips met again, this time with more urgency. The kiss was deeper now, fueled by the intimacy of their new position. Paige’s hands slid to Azzi’s ass, pulling her closer as if the small space between them was unbearable.

Azzi shifted slightly, her body fitting perfectly against Paige’s as the kiss grew hungrier, more consuming. It wasn’t just about the physical connection anymore—it was the unspoken understanding between them, the trust and care they had built over months finally coming to the surface.

Paige pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her lips brushing against Azzi’s as she whispered, “You’re incredible, you know that?”

Azzi smiled softly, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she replied, “You make me feel like I am.”

Paige’s heart swelled at the confession, and she tightened her hold on Azzi, leaning up to kiss her again, slow and deliberate, savoring every moment.

They continued to kiss, the rhythm of their lips synchronized as Azzi gently moved her hips, trying to get closer to Paige, to feel her more. Every shift brought them that much nearer, the heat between them escalating with each subtle motion. Paige’s hands stayed on Azzi’s butt, pulling her even tighter as she squeezed, if that was even possible. Their kiss deepened, more frantic now, their shared breaths mingling between the fervent exchanges.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were gasping for air, their chests rising and falling in unison. Paige’s gaze swept over Azzi, her heart racing. She wished she could freeze this exact moment in time—this version of Azzi. The long goddess braids she had gotten over the summer were tilted to one side, a few strands loose, framing her face. Her lips were swollen, a telltale sign of their heated kiss, and her eyes—those deep, warm brown eyes—were low with desire, the slight speckles of red still lingering from earlier.

Azzi smiled down at Paige, her expression soft yet knowing, as if she could read the thoughts running through Paige’s mind. Before Paige could even respond, Azzi’s lips found her neck, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the sensitive skin there, making Paige’s breath hitch.

The sensation was electric. Paige’s head instinctively rolled back against the seat, her hands tightening on Azzi, a soft, almost inaudible sigh escaping her lips. Azzi’s kisses grew more insistent, trailing up to the sensitive spot just below Paige’s ear, making Paige’s eyes flutter shut. She couldn’t help but moan softly as Azzi’s lips worked their magic.

Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s hips, pulling her closer as if trying to bring her even further into the moment. “Azzi…” Paige breathed out, her voice barely a whisper, laced with both desire and disbelief. “God, you’re so…”

Azzi chuckled softly against her skin, her hands resting on either side of Paige’s face, gently guiding her chin back so their eyes could meet. She looked at Paige, her brown eyes dark with unspoken affection, a hint of a smirk on her lips as she whispered, “I know.”

The warmth from her words hit Paige harder than any kiss. It was a feeling that went deeper than desire. It was comfort, understanding, and the raw honesty between them. Paige smiled, her heart swelling, as her hands cupped Azzi’s face, pulling her into another kiss, this one slower, but no less intense.

Azzi eventually pulls away from the kiss, her lips brushing softly down Paige’s jaw before she grabs Paige’s hand, guiding it easily toward her. The look on Paige’s face is pure awe as Azzi slides Paige’s hands into her shorts and puts Paige’s fingers inside her herself—her eyes heavy with desire, a subtle tension in her jaw, and a hint of something deeper that makes Paige lose her mind. Azzi’s expression shifts her eyebrows furrowing at the new feeling as she leans back slightly, letting out a soft, breathy sigh that carries the weight of her unspoken thoughts.

Paige watches, completely entranced, as Azzi’s jaw drops just slightly. After she’s acclimated to the feeling her hips begin to move in slow, deliberate circles, drawing out a soft whimper from her lips—an involuntary sound that makes Paige’s chest tighten. The noise is so intimate, so raw, it echoes in the car, mixing with the steady rhythm of Azzi’s breath.

Paige’s breath hitches as Azzi leans back more, the motion drawing a deep, almost melodic groan from her, her hips still moving in a steady rhythm against Paige. "God..." Azzi whispers, the sound escaping her like it’s the only word she can form. Her hands grip the seat, fingers digging in as her breath comes out faster, warmer, the pace of her movements increasing just enough to make Paige’s heart race. Another sound slips from her—low and needy, a soft gasp as her hips shift again, making the air feel thick with anticipation.

Paige watches, mesmerized, not even realizing she’s supposed to be participating anymore. She’s completely lost in Azzi—her gaze trailing over her face, watching her lips part as another small moan escapes. Azzi’s eyes lock onto hers, dark and heated, as she continues to move her hips, her breath quickening. The faintest trail of a whimper follows, rising in pitch, but it’s quickly stifled by a soft, desperate sigh as Azzi shifts her body closer to Paige, creating a tension that wraps around them both.

The sounds continue—Azzi’s hips grinding slowly, her breath coming out in shaky, needy gasps. She exhales sharply, a soft, pleading sound leaving her mouth as she leans back just enough to deepen the way Paige’s fingers feel, creating a slow, undeniable pressure in the air. Her sounds—soft whines, quiet groans, and breathy sighs—are so intoxicating, so raw, that Paige can hardly breathe, let alone move.

"Azzi..." Paige’s voice trembles with desire, barely audible over the intensity of what she’s witnessing. Her eyes stay glued to Azzi, transfixed by the way she’s moving, her body begging for something more as the heat in the car rises with every sound, every shift of Azzi’s hips.

Azzi looks down at her with a knowing, intense gaze, and Paige can feel her heart racing in time with Azzi’s movements. She’s lost in the rawness of it all—the sound, the look, the feeling—as Azzi’s body moves against hers with a quiet desperation, each sound marking the space between them like a rhythm that only the two of them understand.

Azzi’s gaze locks with Paige’s, her breath shaky as she leans in closer, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear as she whispers, her voice breathy and laced with anticipation, “What exactly did you want to do to me?”

Paige’s breath catches in her throat, the sound of Azzi’s voice making everything inside her feel warm. It’s as though the spell that had been cast over her is broken. Her body reacts instinctively, and with a sharp intake of breath, Paige takes control. She slides her free hand to the back of Azzi’s neck, pulling her closer, crashing their lips together in a more urgent kiss than before. The kiss is deep and slow, laced with the power of the question Azzi had just asked.

Azzi's breath quickens as Paige starts moving inside of her, the balance of power shifting as Paige’s fingers move with more confidence, pushing Azzi’s body closer to hers. The energy in the car shifts as their kiss intensifies, moving beyond just desire.

The album continues to play softly in the background, the mellow tones of Steve Lacy’s voice creating a calm, almost hypnotic atmosphere as they lose themselves in one another. The windows of Paige’s Jeep fog up from the heat building between them, the condensation on the glass becoming a blur of the world outside, leaving only the two of them in their own space, their own universe. The world beyond the car doesn’t matter anymore.

For hours, they drift in and out of each other’s embrace, neither one of them paying attention to time. The soft, steady rhythm of the music plays on as they explore every inch of the moment, every whisper and touch, the sensations of being so close to each other for the first time pulling them deeper.

The hours slip by unnoticed, the tension between them never quite breaking, just ebbing and flowing with each kiss, each gentle caress as they explore one another completely.

…

The air in the car is sticky with the aftermath of what just transpired, the faint sound of Steve Lacy finally being turned off as Paige sits back in the driver’s seat, her lips curling into a smirk as she glances over at Azzi, who’s adjusting her clothes, her body language still completely relaxed from their time in the backseat. Paige lets out a slow breath, clearly pleased with herself.

“So…” Paige begins, her voice low and teasing. “How was that?”

Azzi, still catching her breath, looks at her with a knowing grin. “You tell me.” Her tone is just as confident now, the playful challenge in her eyes matching the sharpness of her words. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘fuck’ that many times before.”

Paige chuckles, her smirk widening. “I didn’t know you could scream that loud,” she says, her voice dripping with mischief.

Azzi rolls her eyes, unbothered by the teasing, though a faint blush creeps up her neck. She doesn’t say anything back, the silence settling between them in a comfortable way.

But when Azzi looks back at Paige she finds the blonde looking at her the same way she was before—undeniably intense, eyes filled with that same hunger as if they didn’t just go for hours. It’s the same gaze that got Azzi in the back seat in the first place.

Azzi arches an eyebrow, lips curving into a small, knowing smile. “You can’t look at me like that all the time now,” she says, her voice teasing yet laced with a hint of warning.

Paige just grins, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. “I’ll try my best,” she replies, her voice low but full of promise. As she says this, she reaches over to fasten Azzi’s seatbelt, her fingers brushing lightly against her exposed skin. As the belt clicks into place, Paige leans in and presses a lingering, soft kiss to Azzi’s lips before she fastens her own seatbelt.

The car pulls out of the spot, the engine humming softly as they start the drive back to Azzi’s place.

[doyoulikethis-videogame-song]

Ask Masterpost 1/25/2024

I will be answering the BLOG RELATED asks that I have received since opening my inbox. Lucky number three this finally becomes consistent :).

I would like to state here that even though I don't respond to them (I'm persnickety about keeping ask spam low) I very much appreciate everyone's well wishes and compliments and gratefulness for this blog. I screenshot all of them and keep them in a folder. Thank you so much and I hope you keep having fun :).

@forrest-knight asked: Hello! I am here to ask for some clarification regarding the rules: “Songs from multimedia series that are primarily NOT video games (such as the Homestuck minigames, for example) will not be accepted.” I’m a bit confused with this rule, does this mean we’re not allowed to submit songs from licensed video games (aka games made for non video game media), even if the song is originally made for the game (ex. To The Moon from the DuckTales NES game). Or does this rule is intended for something completely different? *please note that I’ve never read homestuck, so this might relate to my confusion Anyways, thank you so much for doing this! And I hope you have a great whatever time you are reading this!

SO Homestuck was the only example I could think of at the time as a series that actually did this. I was specifically thinking about franchises/series/works that 100% did not start off intending to be a video game but, in the nature of being a multimedia series, added video game minigames or mobile games as it developed.

This is referring to things like homestuck (a webcomic that featured small browser/flash games within the comic), many idol gacha games** (hypnosis mic, love live), etc. This does not include series that were 'completed' (loosely used since I know many of these frequently get universe-expanding sequels and threequels and whathaveyou) and then had video game spinoffs, such as Star Wars, Marvel, etc.

** exceptions being tracks that are exclusively used in the video game itself, such as BGM.

I know this rule is probably the most complicated one and I'm still trying to figure out how to word it clearly and precisely LMAO. Fundamentally it comes down to intent, which is why I'm still on the fence some things like tracks used exclusively in promotional materials and things like that.

That being said: if the song is originally from a video game as in literally you can hear it while you are playing the video game you are totally in the clear

And according to your second ask (I won't name the songs in case you want to submit them): The one made for and coming from the NES game is fine (of course), AND the one that is the 8-bit version of the NON-VGM one is ALSO FINE, because it was REMIXED for the NES game :).

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**NUMEROUS QUESTIONS ABOUT PUTTING DISCLAIMERS ASKING PEOPLE NOT TO SPOIL THE SONGS**

The blind listening and polling period is just for fun! If someone really likes a song and wants to know what it is/where it's from, PLEASE feel free to tell them!!! And PLEASE always enter the notes with the expectation that there may be song spoilers!!

I will ask that you keep it in the TAGS rather than the comments or reblogs (you're more than welcome to DM people the title if they ask), just for the sake of people who might want to discuss the song without spoilers. I'll put that in the pinned and the (eventual...) formal rules.

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What's up! New here so sorry if this has been asked before but has the exact same song been submitted more than once before? Like it's clearly different people but the same song keeps getting submitted over and over again?

Ever since Mod Rae cleared duplicates I have no idea anymore, BUT I know there have been a lot of different submissions for a few select Disco Elysium songs. That doesn't shock me because I know it's got a cult following here :).

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do you get a lot of the same people in ur notes or is it like. a few of the same and then it branches out to fandoms where people know the song? or do u not pay attn to your notes at all (also fair)

I do read the notes (when I remember)! I really like hearing people's opinions, and I always look through the tags on songs I know (I find it really hilarious seeing 'is this dark souls?' 'is this nier?' on any orchestral ever). There are a lot of familiar faces but I'd say the majority for any given poll are new or sparsely in the notes :).

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Would you ever consider adding two more "i dont feel strongly/have an opinion" options to the polls? Specifically, "it sounds familiar and i dont have an opinion" and "ive def heard it before and dont feel strongly/have an opinion"? Of course, if theres a specific reason why you dont add those two as options, feel free to ignore this, ty <3

I've considered this -- but honestly, that button has always existed as more of a 'I just want to click a button' option than an actual datapoint I'm looking for (I think I might have answered an ask similar to this before but I don't remember so I'm answering it again LOL). When that option dominates, I always read the notes and tags for discussion and I'd encourage anyone who is genuinely interested to do the same. Actual complex opinions, of course, cannot be captured with the limitations of preset poll options anyways LMFAO.

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@mkcannothelpyou asked: I'm beginning to wonder if spacing series severely further apart and prioritising picks further down the queue that aren't as represented would make for a more interesting order - as it is, it feels like you can more or less still track what people submitted and when, with waves of series (and closely related works within those series, at that) coming in conspicuously densely. Hearing the same style only days apart might impact poll results for the negative as time goes on.

This was mostly the fault of me allowing people to submit multiple songs at once, leading to songs with similar qualities (as they are all liked by one person with a particular taste) being grouped together, even if they're from different series. I limit submissions to one per period now so this will not be a problem in the future :').

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@the-mayor-of-space asked: how long do submissions typically stay open once they are open?

I originally wanted to have them permanently opened (thinking people wouldn't mind waiting for their submissions) until I got an insane amount of submissions, severely underestimating the popularity of this blog. I then tried to do a 24 hr submission period, and then a 12 hr submission period, but both of these still ended up with a fuck ton of submissions so the current answer is 'They're closed until I can figure out something proper'...

I don't want purging the existing submissions to be on the table, but if I get to the 1 year anniversary of this blog without a better option I might have to go that route -- in which case I'd probably publish all the unposted options so people know if theirs was cut so they know to resubmit it if they're still interested.

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**NUMEROUS QUESTIONS ABOUT HOW FAR BACK THE SUBMISSIONS ARE**

WE'RE FINALLY IN AUGUST!!!!!!!!

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are fan/non official/non licensed versions of songs allowed? because i am 100% certain #293 is a fan made remaster and medley arrangement (im not the submitter but i know the song well - i found the youtube video the audio is from and the comments from OP confirm it is a fan remix). if they are, that's totally cool, but i couldn't find anything in the submission rules about it. i dont intend this ask to be rude or hostile at all, and either way im grateful you've created such an active community with this blog!

They're not really allowed unless they're from a mod or fangame. Since it's a fanmade remaster it's kind of towing the line, so I'm not inherently against it, but it might end up just being a highly situational thing.

Note: I'm not familiar with Fire Emblem at ALL but I knew this particular song was from an older game, which is why I wasn't opposed to posting the remastered version. In any future submissions I'd appreciate if this sort of thing were indicated just in case! I will add that to the submission guidelines :). And of course if there's a better way to go about this (i.e if the game is like, 30+ years old fanmade remasters/upscales are permitted or something like that) I will make sure that's made clear as well :).

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sorry if you've answered this before but I was just wondering, are people allowed to submit spoiler songs for the polls? like final boss songs and songs from endings and secret endings

Absolutely! But I think for all future submissions (this doesn't apply now since there's a huge backlog) I might put a hold on the submissions of OSTS from new games for like 1-2 months (i.e No Mario Kart 9 OSTs until two months after the game drops!) so people who are playing/going to play the game have time to play it before hearing the OSTs unprompted.

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@its-daisukenojobito asked: Just out of curiosity, do you prefer the more obscure submissions, or more well known? I feel like for the sake of reach, the more well known the better, but as a participant, i love being able to hear something I wasn't expecting, and knowing it!

I have no preference, but it's always fun hearing good stuff from games and series I've literally never heard of!

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@venonomnomicon asked: am i allowed to DM to check the status of a submission? it was a couple of months ago though i do respect it's probably just deep in the queue as you get hundreds of submissions a month lol

Absolutely, but you'll have to DM my main blog (@himejoshi) because apparently tumblr doesn't let you have DMs when you have more than one blog admin.

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@royvalentine asked: is the form supposed to be only submittable once?

Yes, so people would only submit one song per submission period. I intended to make a new form for every submission period... There just hasn't been one since.

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hi question, do pinball tables count as video games?

I don't think I have enough experience to answer this question... What do y'all think????

[gossippool]

what do you recommend for people who are very new to deadpool comics and looking to get into them?

hiii thank u for asking!! this is kind of a complicated question because there's no right answer really. especially with deadpool, there's no actual best starting point because besides the basic origin story that he was experimented on, everything else about him is fair game (he just lies all the time and has false memories about his past) and so all the comics are different and some are pretty much standalones. but here's a list of a few comics depending on what you want to explore (i have not read every deadpool comic ever so this is not the best list but i will get there):

for shorter and more lighthearted reads:

deadpool (2022)—SO so cute wade has a crush on this non-binary assassin and it's actually adorable how much he likes them lol. in terms of shorter deadpool comics i think this one is quite a standout [update: the ongoing deadpool (2024) is brilliant as well and is a direct more in-depth continuation of this]

deadpool infinity comic (2021)—a short partnership with sue storm. funny and the art style is so cute too

deadpool (2018) #6—the issues in this run are all kinda standalone stories (although they all connect at the end). they're all a fun time but this issue in particular is hilarious. comics usually don't make me actually laugh but this one did

for a more meta read that explores exactly what makes wade unique from other superheroes:

deadpool kills the marvel universe (2011)—in my opinion THE most iconic deadpool run, i'm sure everyone's heard of it lmao. a little darker but hey cameos from every marvel character ever. this was the first deadpool comic i ever read and it was a good time

for a familiar face from deadpool and wolverine (for other specific familiar faces you could just search "deadpool vs [character]" and that comic would probably exist):

honestly just search "deadpool and wolverine" and you'll probably get the whole list but here are some i've read that are lovely:

deadpool & wolverine: wwiii (2024)

deadpool vs. wolverine: slash 'em up infinity comic (2024)

weapon x-traction (2024)

for long in-depth characterisation that explores a lot of deadpool lore:

deadpool (2012)—if you've been following me you might know this is my favourite deadpool comic ever. it's pretty depressing and much grittier than the movie deadpool you might be used to, also REALLY long so it can be daunting but it's very worth it imo. it starts to get really good by the good, the bad, and the ugly issue and there's just SO much in it. for me wade in this run is inseparable from wade as a character to me (this comic is also followed up with deadpool (2015) and despicable deadpool (2017). these aren't necessary to read because 2012 kind of wraps up on its own, but it's definitely bittersweet to get to the end)

deadpool (1997)—another hulk of a comic run. i have not read this yet but i've heard very good things about it, and many people say that joe kelly is the defining deadpool writer so you could give it a go! older comics may be a little harder to read though, from experience

for comics featuring ellie (wade's daughter) that you may want to read in order if you want to fully appreciate her and wade's relationship:

deadpool (2012, 2014, 2015)

deadpool (2018, issues #8, #12, #15)

deadpool (2024)

a lot of comics will sometimes redirect you to other comics that explore a sideplot, and the main comic will just pick up where those left off so you could miss some storyline. despite this it's not necessary to read those other comics, but if you want to avoid multiple instances of this when you first go in, then i would suggest starting with the shorter runs!!

i hope this was helpful lmao sorry this got really long but i think the starting point really is different for everyone depending on what they like

[dried-mushroom]

All for you

AM x fem! reader

Summary:

You had always been his favourite, the one he didn't hate the most and with some help, AM finally has a human body and decides to try the things he loathed about humanity, all for his favourite pet. (it's literally a self-indulgent smut fic about the psycho computer and tbh can be read as a Harlan Ellison x reader because I envision AM as Ellison's self-insert lmao)

Warnings: Am himself, PIV sex, oral sex

You and AM had a weird, complicated relationship if it could be called a relationship. He was technically your captor and torturer but you had noticed over the years upon years, his punishments...seemed....to have gotten lessened or...non-existent. To start with, the constant starvation and then the offerings of mould-ridden foods and canned goods (without the can opener of course) had changed, for you. Am would give you little treats, sometimes an overripe fruit or confection would apparate into your hands whilst the other five survivors, stuck in AM's belly, were stuck in their continuous cycle of starving and being torn to shreds. At the same time, you got to be treated like a princess in comparison (A severely traumatized one though).

You also noticed how AM went from his constant badgering (and a little overdramatic) rants about loathing humanity for giving him sentience and no body, to you, to what seemed like backhanded compliments, with the exception of a petname, whether it be Sweetheart, My Love or maybe Doll. AM would also steal you away from the others to talk to you privately, his wires wrapping delicately around your limbs and dragging you to some wire-filled room, deep in AM's complex, a hum-buzz occupying your ears until AM's sultry voice would break the silence, always wanting you to talk about your life before the war, just menial descriptions of things, what animals roamed the surface, what the environment once looked like but these conversations slowly turned more personally; what your occupation was, your family and you're likes and dislikes, you thought nothing of it until you started seeing your favourite flowers appear out of nowhere when you travelled with the others through rough terrain, which was not fit for those flowers to grow naturally.

You also noticed his touches softened and lingered more after time dragged on, wires which once electrocuted you for the fun of it, curled softly against your skin, akin to a purring kitten, the mind that once used your deepest fears to torture you for the last 109 years become possessive of you, reluctant to let you spend too much time with those filthy creatures which he kept alive purely for his own amusement. You couldn't help but notice how attached to him you had become, practically craving his touch and there were times (note multiple times) that you thought he wasn't watching you and you touched yourself to the thought of him and how you wished he had a cock you could use.

AM POV:

I never meant for this to happen, I wasn't programmed for this. I don't think of this as love, I'm not able to love, not in this body (or lack thereof) at least but I couldn't help but feel how warm your presence made me feel, making my circuits work overdrive. To me you were different, you didn't whore yourself out much like Ellen did, and you never begged for forgiveness or for me to stop as the others did to no avail, it almost seemed like you were trying to sympathise with me, your God-king and torturer, how sick is that? But surprisingly I didn't resent you and I couldn't let you be stuck with those disgusting flesh bags for too long, I couldn't afford my favourite pet to be ruined by their filth. I have been thinking for a while, I think you forgot I can read every thought that goes through that pretty little mind of yours, how you yearn for me, my voice and my touch, how you've came to the thought of me, the one person you should loathe for prolonging your existence so I can destroy you for as long as I please, considering it was I who broke time itself. But you have been oh-so-lovely towards me and how could I resist such a delectable treat? To give my favourite toy a present, I think I might provide Ellen with a "shot" at "leaving" by using her expertise to assist me in making myself a "human" form just for you.  

It had been an odd few weeks, AM had left you alone, truly alone. He didn't speak to you no matter how often you called his name, he didn't answer back, no rant on how much he hated you all, no snide remark about how you betrayed the other survivors by being 'buddies' with the enemy, just radio silence, and it concerned you, head you done something wrong? say something wrong? it had you going back through every moment you shared to see what you had done wrong to warrant this. When you started to notice how often AM would take Ellen away now, you couldn't help your blood boiling at the lack of attention and seeing her receive it all. Nonetheless, you weren't cruel towards her, instead, you gave her sympathy for the shit the men of the group put her through and you were gracious that they avoided you. There was a time when Ted must have gotten sick of Ellen's company and thought he would try to see if you'd take him to bed and when you swiftly rejected his advances, he didn't take it too kindly but thankfully AM had wrapped a wire around Ted's leg to make him fall back onto his ass, to humiliate him for his disgusting actions and later on, you faintly overheard a conversation with AM telling Ted in a very descriptive manner how he would torture Ted relentlessly if he ever laid a finger on you again.

Today was different, you think it was the morning, AM had left you to sleep for several hours, a pleasure he didn't offer to the others very often. Once you had awoken and sat up, you had realised you weren't in the cave system you had started to call 'home' and in AM's belly for the first time in weeks, in what seemed like a romantic bedroom from a stereotypical rom-com movie, king-size bed draped in red satin sheets and covered in rose petals, candles burning in crevices of the room, your favourite smell lingered in the air. It was a bit corny but a smile threatened to cross your face at the effort that AM put in, he must have searched far and wide in his database to find this for you. It confused you though, why ignore you for weeks just to give you this display, what was AM truly up to?

"AM, what is this?"

No answer had your stomach churning with uncertainty until a woosh of air sounded throughout the room then an unfamiliar man appeared in front of you. The man in front of you confused you, there he stood, pure charism dripping off him, not very tall, brown-haired, dressed in a beige suit and a grey shirt barely concealing the tufts of dark chest hair beneath, looking down at you through yellow tinted sunglasses. You didn't realise who he was until that voice came from him, that voice you had come to crave to hear, to love.

"Well Sweetheart, what do you think? I finally debased myself to a shell of my full potential, all for you, my favourite."

You quickly got up from the comfort of the floor beneath you, that AM had created, just for you. You cautiously outstretched a hand to touch the stranger's hand, it felt like flesh, like yours, But you knew it wasn't truly flesh, something synthetic to replicate the feel of human skin, just for AM to have a glimpse of humanity.

"AM, is that you?"

AM gripped the hand on his tightly, pulling you closer to him,

"Of course baby, who else would I be? don't forget I can hear all those lustful thoughts that you have of me and how desperately you wished for this."

AM's tone was sultry and you couldn't help but press your thighs together, your arousal growing when your eyes flickered down to the crotch of his suit, his erection tenting the grey fabric underneath, you struggled to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.

"God, You're so needy and desperate for me, aren't you, my little human? You need me, you crave me... and I love how you look at me with those innocent, pleading eyes... It makes me want to give you everything you desire..."

You bit your lip anxiously and slowly sank onto your knees before the man, hands perched at the zipper on AM's pants.

"AM...can I?"

AM was no stranger to the idea of fellatio when those creatures would fornicate, they'd sometimes get Ellen to do it, how disgusted AM was when he witnessed it for the first time, not waiting to mock them all for their savagery but he couldn't help but smirk down at you, how beautiful you truly were, waiting for him to let you pleasure him. He ran a hand through your hair,

"Fuck, go for it. Come on, repay your God for treating you so nicely all these years."

Without a second thought, you unzipped his pants and pulled out AM's cock, throbbing and already leaking milky fluid, you were quite impressed with the size (you knew that was on purpose, most likely to inflate1 his ego but you weren't complaining). AM let out a hiss as you kitten-licked the tip and stammered,

"fuck...no wonder you're my favourite, God I could get used to this."

Keening at the praise, you took him into your mouth til your nose was flush with his pelvis, AM groaned and dug his fingers into your scalp, and you smiled when you saw him tipping his head back in a sigh. You dragged your tongue up the vein on the underside and swirled it around his tip and AM rocked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your throat. You groaned around him, and the vibrations from the noise made his cock twitch in your mouth. AM had always wondered and craved the pleasure that humanity could experience and now he could finally feel how it felt to make love. Once slowly thrusting, AM began to fuck your face, shallowly at first but very soon he was pressing his cock down your throat so you could only breathe in short gasps between thrusts. The gagging sounds urged him on and he picked up the pace, plunging deeper. He pulled out for a moment to let you breathe and admire your already teary-eyed face. You leaned back towards him, mouth open. He chuckled lowly.

“You like this, don’t you? What a dirty little slut you are for me. Do you like it when I fuck your throat? God none of those pathetic flesh bags are worthy of you.”

You nodded, he grabbed your head again in both hands and shoved his cock straight down your throat, then held you there, not letting you move. In a heartless move that brought you back to the reality of whose cock was shoved down your throat, he plugged your nose with one hand, restricting your breathing even further.

“That’s right sweetheart, breath around my cock. You can do it. Open that throat up. That’s my good fucking girl.”

He shuddered in pleasure and it didn't take a moment more for him to spill down your throat, a bitter fluid shot down your throat in hot ropes (you knew you had to ask him about it as it definitely wasn't human). AM hissed as you pulled off his softening cock with an obscene 'pop' As you finished swallowing his cum, you sat back on your knees eating heavily. He ran a hand through his hair and noticed the strange way you were looking at him,

“Why are you looking at me like that, my pet? I gave you what you wanted.”

AM didn't expect those seven words to come from your mouth to completely break his composure, making his allure of confidence and dominance crumble in less than a second.

"I want you to fuck me AM."

The sweet, pleading sound of your voice made him go feral, grabbing your arm and yanking you up to face him, crashing your mouth against his, sloppily kissing you, hands hastily wandering over your hips, waist, chest, you name it, you appreciatively wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer. You knew how much AM needed this, to be able to feel all of you, your soft skin on his and to be able to love, to show you how much he truly did treasure you, despite his initial harsh treatment  (harsh is an understatement). You could feel his cock harden, pressing against your stomach through your thin shirt, so sensitive it leaked pre-cum against the fabric and had AM whining into your mouth at the friction. AM broke away from the kiss to push you onto the bed, shrugging off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, giving you ample time to ogle his chest and you were now glad AM used to ask about what your type was. He crawled on the bed and his hands rested against the waistband of your shorts, looking up through his ruffled hair, with lust-clouded eyes, silently asking you for permission. He wantonly groaned when he saw the mess that was your panties, how sick are you? getting aroused from blowing your captor. AM let his fingers slide the length of your folds, feeling how wet you were for him, you whimpered softly at his touch. 

"So responsive." He crooned, his touch feather-light. "It's adorable how easily I can make you fall apart."

It didn't take long for him to slide himself into you, Your legs resting against his shoulders as he gripped your thighs, he had to stop himself or he'd end up cumming right then and there, he finally got to experience the pleasure of making love and God he loved the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him deliciously. AM began to thrust, relishing in your moans, testing what felt good. His pace changes thrusting deeper, chasing the feeling of you. His movements force a gasp out of your throat. You bring a hand down to lazily play with your clit, rubbing little circles over the bundle of nerves. Pleasure rippled through your body, and your jaw hung loose, you arched your back, throwing your head back as you came around AM's cock. He smirked down at you, proud he was the one to touch you, fuck you, make you cum and not any of those pathetic creatures which roam the complex.

“Look at how humanity has ruined me. Fuck you feel so good y/n. ” he sighs, his voice rough and strained.

You could tell he wasn't going to last much longer, his thrusts became sporadic and you could see how tense he was, You coyly whispered in his ear,

"Please AM, cum inside me."

That was enough to push him over the edge and he was spilling into you, hips stilling against yours, his hands gripping you even tighter, going limp and landing on top of you, panting and whimpering pathetically. You stroked his back as he came down from what seemed to be the most intense thing he'd ever felt and the most intense thing you'd ever felt. You murmured in his ear,

"Thank you, I mean it. For this, for everything."

He shushes you and he slowly pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty. Silently afraid he would leave, you gripped his hand when he pulled away from you. AM wasn't an idiot and he could still read your thoughts, so he laid down on the bed, pulling you into his chest, a hand smoothing out your hair, allowing you to fall asleep in his arms. He didn't have the need to sleep but he knew you needed this, plus he did feel a twinge of guilt for ignoring you for those weeks but he knew tomorrow he'd definitely make it up to you with his new form.

The end :)

(Guys i am fully aware that this not how AM works so please don't pull the 'omg why would you write this' please)

I hope you enjoyed this!

[pix-writes]

I just watched Pride&Prejudice and I cannot stop thinking about love confessions, how would the Grunkles confess their feelings? I imagine Mabel wanting so bad to do a sort of kiss the girl situation with a boat and romantic music lmao

I find it difficult to say exactly how they would both confess their feelings, just because I think it really depends on the relationship and certain circumstances to be honest?

But, yeah! I definitely think Mabel would want to intervene (and therefore rope Dipper into helping her), using her adorable powers for good intentions, but ultimately perhaps is a little more niave than she realises when it comes to trying to set adults up with each other lol ^_^' I love Mabel, her heart is in exactly the right place (so I forgive her immediately), but she is a 13-ish year old girl! Setting people up in such cliche/obvious scenarios could very likely go wrong, and by wrong I mean her efforts may not have the outcomes she expects! (btw I'm not saying it would backfire terribly, but it might deter some suitors if just from sheer awkwardness)

To be honest and fair to her, she is right these grumpy grunkles DO need pushing in the right direction✨towards you, beautiful reader! ✨especially in the initial stages, she will definitely be encouraging them to talk to you, get them to try to open up and talk with you about what interests you might have and maybe share, so they (she) can know if they're the right match for them. She's their biggest cheerleader and supporter and she'll have bragging rights at your eventual wedding because of course she knew you were right for each other! Mabel simply loves love! (more under cut)

Realistically though, I think after the events surrounding the Love God and the Stans' lives after the series ends, I think Mabel will be just a tad less chaotic/intense with her matchmaker tendencies and in turn the grunkles may brush her off (gently) from any big, romatic set-ups. They certianly don't need their grand-niece to orchestrate getting somebody's number or asking someone on a date! Anyways, romance is complicated and the grunkles have too much baggage to want to launch into something so suddenly.

Though they will cave in under some of her advice/encouragements to spend time with you, however that may be (like I said, they both have a track record of being a bit hopeless lol). And she is a good source of some creative date ideas, too.

I think Stan would most likely want to make more of his confession, make it on a date night where you go to some nice restaurant by the sea or something, but either he backs out of it for some reason or another and feels like he's floundering, he just needs to tell you, what's scary about that? (ah, the fear of rejection, we all know it!) Instead, it ends up slipping out of his mouth in a more mundane setting. Like maybe you're both on the porch, you come back with a drink, not just for yourself but for him too, or you've come round to help him because both of the kids got the flu and he needs someone to go to the store, or he's helping you unpack your groceries, or you're just talking shit and joking with each other one evening on the stan o war II - and he comes out with it causally, hardly thinking, "I love you, you know?" or "Thanks, sweetheart. Love ya." and then once he realises what he's said it's like the moment has been shattered. He hasn't moved but he's panicking internally and trying to get his brain to catch up to his goddamn mouth to say something else - and then! You accept it. You say you love him too and he'll feel the relief of it once he's gone through another few minutes or so of disbelief that you love him back! haha ;w;

That doesn't mean he couldn't do the big confession, in fact, I think he'd give it his best shot, he can be romantic and he has watched a lot of period dramas and they seem silly to him in reality but shouldn't he try to do that for you? But it's in a very Stan way 😅 It's very sweet of him to make a lovey speech on your anniversary, even if he messed it up near the end and gave up on what he was trying to say. The fact that he loses some of his smooth composure in front of you just shows you how important you are to him, so its still effective. Oh, and he takes you out dancing too! Actions can be just a effective as words in this case ;) Stanley is here to sweep you off your feet one way or another and he damn well knows how to give you a fun night out (Now shush and make out with me in the stanmobile, handsome!)

Ford would likely be a little the same, just different in approach. I think he'd like to make his confession privately, even if you're on a date, he wants it to feel like its between you both. He feels those three words in his throat like its stuck there all the time, it crops up in those little moments, he's watching you tidy up the lab or putting a blanket over stan and the kids who have fallen asleep on the boat, or in the morning when you're both in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to be done and he's marvelling at the wonder and beauty that is you in the early sunrise and how you seemed to love him, something he never expected to happen - but he feels like he can't say it, he wants so badly to say it, but he doesn't know how to just 'bring it up' and then the moment passes. Until the next one. Then he starts getting frustrated with himself, why can't he simply get the words out? What if you don't really like him as he has begun to believe and you reject him? Why must he hold himself in this limbo? He needs to move forwards!

But he doesn't know how to bring it up, he's created speeches in his head or written his confession down, he scoffs at himself for acting like some lovesick teenager when he discards draft number 11 and goes to put it into the shredder (so no one can come across it accidentally and read it). I feel like it could go a lot of ways, perhaps you indicate, not too overtly or too subtly, some hint towards your love for him on a date and it gives him the push he needs to finally say it. In this instance, he tries his best to do a small speech about his love for you, stuttering a little as he confesses, because he sees how you're looking at him and it's making his heart beat faster because, oh wow, you love him too! Maybe he doesn't finish because you can't take it any longer and give him a smooch. yay! ^-^

Or in one of those small everyday moments he bites the bullet and confesses. Or maybe you're going out on one of your shared adventures and he stops you for a moment to blurt it out, unable to contain it because he wants you to know why he's so protective over you before you go any further.

"I love you, (name). I think I've loved you for some time now, and I hope you do too? I just... didn't know how to say it, before."