#[but yeah its easy as shit to do edits.]

[toxooz]

ALSOOOOOOO i Finally got to ride a skateboard at the skatepark with bf n friends for the first time ever yesterday and i feel so 👀👀👌👌👌💯💯💯 i managed to be able to balance and push around and stop without falling and it was fun tbh!! i can see getting muscle memory and improvement by doing it consistently 😤 i just hope this aint too short of a phase for everyone so i can hopefully get me own board soon 🙏

[acarillustrated]

hi my name is august and for the past week or so i have become so consumed by thoughts of avatar the last airbender that it is actually ruining my life and relationships.

yeah so unfortunately i can only be completely insane about this so i have to stop before it consumes me or at least manage the fixation i have for this early 20s zutara au

+ mai bc its really a shame that they didn't resolve her story outside of her relationship to zuko. so i think she starts fight club. which gradually turns into a gladiatorial ring

edit: im typing up everything that i wrote in the drawing bc it just occured to me that not only is my handwriting a mess, but it's also cursive

Image 1

katara: How do you live in this hot ass country.

zuko: What about that literal glacier you live on, hm? Do you see me complaining?

Image 2

Zuko: my plan right now is to soft launch democracy for the Fire Nation. like, i don't think we can do that now because we're so weak, but 10-20 years down the line?

Image 3

Zuko: Honestly, my plan right now is to rule for a couple generations and fix everything that my father and my grandfather did , and then establish a democracy.

Katara: why not a democracy now?

Zuko: because the people of the Fire Nation don't know the truth about their own history. they've been fed propaganda for a hundred years. they need to be able to make informed decisions before i can do that.

Katara: and after that?

Zuko: after that im fucking off to the earth kingdom to take over my uncle's tea house and you will literally never hear from me again

Image 4

from left to right "katara" "need to redo the face" "this is chief katara to me. this is her at around 19/20 to me" "Anime katara. this anime shit is easy" "fire nation katara. putting her at about 14 y/o" "this is a screencap redraw"

Image 5

me: hello greenpeace

katara: after my mother died i had a lot of unchecked rage for the world, so my dad signed me up for tai chi classes to, like, calm me down but i ended up still angry but also really good at tai chi

katara: i feel like im doing well all things considered

me: katara is so special to me. she is a fully realized creation to me. so casual. so passionate about the world. one thing about her is that she is an activist. she has a strong sense of justice. fuck. the train jumped lol

image 6

mai: zuko, im starting a gladitorial ring and i don't know the legality of it so if you could just change the laws as i go that'd be great

zuko: yeah sure that sounds great

zuko, but smaller: wait what.

image 7

mai: REF, ARE YOU BLIND?! WHAT KIND OF CALL IS THAT!

background guy: woah holy shit

captioned: "Mai starts a gladiatorial fight club

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: established relationship, Eddie is an emotionally constipated lil guy who's scared of his own feelings, adorable nervous energy, so much fluff its gross

AN: BRUV i wrote this in about a half hour ago and now its up and i BARELY edited this so please be gentle! I love you guys, have the best weekend!

I can’t fucking say it.

Eddie has been pacing back and forth in his room for the past 45 fucking minutes.

He’s tried saying it looking in the mirror, looking at his feet, hell, he even tried staring out the fucking window.

Nothing.

He can think it—that’s the easy part. Those three little words play in his head like a god damned broken record.

When he’s not around you, he’s thinking it. When he’s just left you, or on his way to you, he can feel it on the tip of his tongue.

Oh, but when he’s with you? It’s like a big flashing neon fucking sign buzzing in his brain:

EDDIE MUNSON LOVES HIS GIRL.

It should be easy, no? To look you into your dreamy eyes and tell you.

Let’s try this again.

Eddie bounced back and forth on each foot, shaking the nerves from his hands. “C’mon, Munson. Don’t be a chicken shit…”

He let out a few quick breaths. “Okay, okay…”

Eddie’s brain is screaming at him. Telling him to say the fucking words he’s been thinking and feeling for the past 4 months.

Really the past 3 years he’s knowns you, but that’s neither here nor there.

He feels out of breath just sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

“I can’t fucking say it, holy hell.” Eddie scrubs his face, feeling like a complete coward.

Always running from what scares him.

He heard the door of the trailer open, and the familiar chime of your keychain follow.

“Eds? I’m back! and I got you a surprise!”

Whatever nerves he was feeling vanished. You’re the most calming presence Eddie’s ever met. Like…a warm blanket. A cup of tea on a rainy day. Lover's lake, right as the sun was starting to rise.

Magical. Healing. Golden.

You were everything to him, and he couldn’t even fucking tell you.

“Babe?” You called again, looking for him.

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, in here, sweetheart.” He stands quickly. Drying his sweaty palms on his pants.

You round the corner into his room, and Eddie swears you get more beautiful every time he sees you. You smile at him, “Hey, handsome.”

“There’s my pretty girl.” He says without a second thought. “You and Buckley have fun at the mall?”

Eddie pulls you into him completely, and you melt. He’s so sturdy and strong but so, so gentle with you. You inhale him, he inhales you.

Home.

“I did, Robin keeps me from flying too close to the sun,” you laugh. “I did, however, get you a little something.”

Eddie pulls back, looking at you. “What? Why?”

You’re beaming up at him, “‘Cause I love you, ya silly goose.” You bend down, and grab the bag at your feet. “Here, opening it!”

Eddie doesn’t even have time to process how easily you’d say it.

You’ve never once pressured him—never made a big thing about saying it. It came with no strings when you said it the first time.

You’d spent the day with him, doing nothing particularly important. These were Eddie’s favorite. It’s just him and his girl, no sharing you with Robin or Dustin or any of those other gremlins.

You had an early shift the next day, so you kissed him goodbye, and grabbed your bag. Eddie kissed you once for every step you took toward the door.

“Baby, nooooo,” he whined. “I’ll let you sleep, sweetheart. No funny business, scouts honor.”

You laughed, “Oh, you were Boy Scout?”

Eddie shifted his feet, “I could’ve been.”

You kissed him deeply at the front door, “I’ll be back before you know it."

“Fine, fine,” he said dramatically. “I’ll just be here…alone…wallowing in my sorrows.” Eddie flopped back and fell backwards over the couch.

Your giggle echoed off the walls of the trailer. “I love you! I’ll see you in the morning!”

The door shut behind you, and Eddie shot up like a rocket, and stiff as a board.

You love him.

You said you loved him.

And he didn’t say it back.

It’s haunted him since.

Eddie took the bag from your hands, and pulled you gently to follow him. You sat down together on the edge of his bed.

You spoke to him as he opened it, “Okay, if you don’t like them, just be nice because it took me 40 minutes to decide between two sets and this one spoke to me and I wanted—“

“Honey, honey.” Eddie chuckled. “Take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s perfect." He tapped your nose gently, "‘Cause it’s from you.”

Eddie unwrapped the tissue paper, revealing a black acrylic case. He removed the lid, and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

“Holy shit, baby.”

Inside the case, was a brand new set of black onyx and ruby red DND dice.

“You like ‘em? Robin almost left me in the store because I just couldn’t decide—“

Eddie put the dice down quickly, grabbed your cheek, and kissed you tenderly.

He brought his other hand to your face as well, cupping it gently as his mouth moved over yours

When he was done with your mouth, Eddie kissed your nose, your cheeks, your eyes, your chin, any part of you he deemed not smothered in affection enough.

His lips had barely left your skin before he spoke, “I love you. God, I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Your smile—it could light up the whole town.

“Y-Yeah?” You asked hopefully, “You do?”

Eddie nodded, his hair tickling you cheeks. “I really, really do, baby. I love you. Thank you for thinking of me. For taking the time to do something that I never woulda done for myself. Thank you for just…” Eddie sighed, kissing your forehead. “Just for being mine. Christ, I’m so lucky.”

It wasn't about the gift.

Eddie had it all when he had you, and now he's going to make sure you know it.

[literalite]

mistki's the land is inhospitable and so are we (2023)!! as edits featuring mine and some of my friends ocs 😁 had a lot of fun with this project... rough explainer of how/why each song corresponds to each character/s under the cut because i love symbolism and talking! sorry it is long

bug like an angel - sapphire

without spoiling too much of her story and arc... sapphire's life is not easy. she's hurt by people she cares for and who care for her, although inadvertently, and in turn hurts people who she cares for and who cared for her, also not by her own volition. it's kind of a terrible truth that you will harm and be harmed by the people you love, even when you and they truly don't want to. it's up to you how much you're willing to take and deal. you can't keep every promise you make and you can't right every wrong. but you have to keep trying anyway. that's sapphire's strength, and the core of her goodness and why i personally consider her one of my favourite ocs. i chose to depict bug like an angel in mitski's more positive interpretation here and in that light i think it works best for saph

buffalo replaced - heiya

well first and foremost the vibes of the song fits heiya perfectly fhgjk but also lyricism and tone... yep. quick breakdown of heiya's background since i doubt i'll ever be able to do it properly she's an interesting character for me because she like a lot of my other characters has lost. everything. she had a wife and a child and they were both killed and she had to leave her home again and again and unlike how some of my others would have taken this she has never flagged in her unwavering dedication to preserving hope. for herself for her people for the future etc etc. which is a very fucking difficult thing to do! the world changes faster than you can keep up with it sometimes but for heiya she will not let herself tire and be swept away in it all. people rely on her. she's a guiding star as much as she is a woman. she's a lover and a fighter and thats what buffalo replaced means to me! so

heaven - vinny and caleb

i feel like of all my oc couples so far they have like. the sweetest most kind of simply mutually trusting dare i say straight forward love. they just love each other so much and thats all. the world could end around them when theyre together and it'd be okay truly. also yeah vinny is ostensibly in heaven now bye angel i feel like this one was pretty self explanatory. me and who WHEN

i don't like my mind - sunny

he just like me fr (said in denji voice) anyways wow ha. unstoppable unending guilt due to past actions that haunt your every waking moment? throwing yourself into any and all distraction just to take your mind off it, filling your time with other shit so that past sin doesnt for once echo in your awful and hollow brain? this song is perfect for sunny honestly just that sentiment also the "please don't take this job from me".... sometimes the coping is worse. you can be proud of something because you can do it better than anyone else even if that thing is terrible

the deal - wolfgang munch by @gunthermunch

Wolfgang Amadeus Munch. umm this will make more sense later on but it still kind of makes sense now i think. he doesn't want to be himself he keeps . leaving and moving and running away from his own memories his own self in reaction to others. if he could pawn it all off he would. if he could be better in an instant without having to feel every agonising second of change he would! but thats not how the world works. or is it. read munch by gunthermunch thats an order

when memories snow - lilian

i feel the older you get the more your past kind of swells up and trails behind you... at least for lilian that is shes very linked to the different versions of the girl/young woman she used to be. for her its a double edged blade, a lot of her own strength is drawn from who she was and what happened to her throughout her life. they haunt her but she's haunting it back in her own way

my love mine all mine - saige, bellona, ari

stares you down okay so usage of this song very much almost verges into spoiler territory but uhm. uhm. starts twitching basically the whole dynamic here is . sometimes when you love you will sacrifice. and while that is usually a good thing sometimes it is not but sometimes it still is. sometimes you pay your dues for love and sometimes someone else has to pay for your love as well. and whether that is worth it to them remains to be seen. but it's all about love still. whether that's a worthy cause is up to you i suppose

the frost - yoshiki and hikaru from hikaru ga shida natsu

fun fact (or not so fun fact since i had it listed as such) this slot was originally meant to be taken up by a gojo/geto edit and while it still works for them frighteningly well i swerved to do another black and white haired doomed gay pairing gfhjkl; i really recommend yall to read hikaru ga shinda natsu/the summer that hikaru died because honestly it speaks for itself! it's SO good i love it so bad

star - ari and luca by @anjitrait

wow these two did not deserve the horrors the narrative (me) slammed down onto their heads. they're kind of the most married of all time to me but like of course under pressure even the strongest most loving of bonds will warp. they've been together for roughly a decade and a half now. they know and love each other as totally as you could possibly imagine. despite it all i am yours, no matter. are we picking up what i'm putting down chat

i'm your man - nayef and sióar by @lucidicer

after the album dropped like at least 3 people swung into my dms with a ?this you?? about this song which. i mean the fucking dogs that start barking halfway through the song. are you kidding me. but anyways sioyef and devotion. sioyef and putting yourself in your lover's hands and looking to them like they are a god. this is super self explanatory. you know

i love me after you - redacted and ophelia

HM.... all i'll say here is that sometimes the homoerotic tension filled high school friendship where both parties have something very wrong with them but in totally different directions can be. scarring. bad. sometimes love just isn't enough when you don't know what you're meant to do with it and when you've lived in survival mode all your life. but that once the dust clears you can scrape yourself off the ground get up keep going and that isn't gonna be the end for you there. or for love, even. sometimes shit just ain't meant to be and thats ok

[utilitycaster]

Do you think part of the D20 journalistic bias comes from D20 being edited? It gives the appearance of much more effortless play and lets them control the pacing in a way unedited play like CR simply can't do. They get to (potentially) hide a lot of stuff people would jump on as flaws while CR has no choice but to let it all play out. I greatly prefer CR's approach, despite it biting them in the ass a bit through no fault of their own.

Answering these both together to group cause and my opinions, and I do want to note this is specifically about journalism/press coverage, not their respective fandoms even though there's obviously some overlap.

I think there's a couple things, but I do want to note this was actually prompted by Daggerheart, not Critical Role. The response from several prominent voices in the Actual Play journalism community, whom I will not name here but whom I do not respect intellectually, really was, within hours of the open beta (which as far as I know they didn't have early access to - more on that later) "um it could be better, I don't like xyz and also it's sooooooo important to have criticism" and again, it is important to have criticism, but also you act like D20 has never had a mediocre moment and that Kollok is brilliant, so.

This...got away from me a bit. I'd say I'm sorry but actually I adore writing thousands of words about actual play and it will happen again but I'm putting the detailed answer below a cut. The short answer is I think a lot of Actual Play journalists actually sort of fell into their jobs through being vaguely involved in nerd spaces and aren't actually equipped to talk intelligently about TTRPGs and actual play as a medium that should, at its best, be a perfect fusion of narrative and mechanics. So instead they're distracted by flashy edits and bright lights and cool noises and some abstract concept of "novelty" and write only about that. Also Critical Role is the 700 lb gorilla in the AP space (though not, actually, the TTRPG space) and doesn't give them early access and that's meaaaaaan. Indeed, for all I think a lot of their coverage of D20 and Worlds Beyond Number is obsessively fawning, I also think it's extremely surface level, frequently factually wrong, and fails to get at what's truly excellent about those shows either.

I think, honestly, the biggest one is that I don't actually think a lot of Actual Play journalists watch series in full. I was looking for Polygon coverage of Fantasy High Junior Year and they have one glowing article but it's more about Fantasy High as setting and institution and D20 "changing the game" (also more on this later) to the point of outright contradicting the pull quotes they used from interviewing Brennan Lee Mulligan (also more on this later). So I started looking through their coverage and actually, quite a number of their write-ups are based on only one episode, or half a season. Clearly, they haven't read the full open beta (nor have I, but I think their complaints about the character build process belie a profound misunderstanding of what TTRPGs are, also more on this later). So editing is certainly part of it because it's really easy to see cool special effects and sound design within one episode and shit out a hacky article about it, whereas actually getting to the substance - character relationships, cohesive narrative, storytelling - requires work that I do not think they're doing. And on the one hand I do kind of get it, because yeah, if journalism is your livelihood then you perhaps do not have the time to watch 4 hours of D&D a week for 2-3 years if you're only going to get one article every six months out of it. But I don't think the answer is "focus intently on Microsoft Powerpoint-esque scene transition tricks while ignoring that nothing occurring at the table is actually fun to watch." For more on this, see this post.

The second, which is very relevant to Daggerheart but also is actually a big gap in D20 and WBN coverage in my opinion, and which I put in the tags, is that I actually don't think a lot of journalists have a solid understanding of TTRPGs nor of most genres. And I think Critical Role has a particularly good understanding of both these things, actually, if one skewed towards collaborative storytelling that is not rules-light. I think one really big example is that one person within the space is mad at the Daggerheart questions for the character archetypes because what if your character doesn't fit these. I think this is dumb as shit. I actually think that a common criticism of D&D - that you can't play ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING - is not valid, or rather, it's a valid opinion to hold but if you want to play a character who doesn't fit into the available archetypes perhaps you need to find another game. We all inherently understand that Blades in the Dark characters will be members of a criminal organization in a relatively low-magic setting, correct? That you can't show up to BitD and play a lawful good wizard prince because that's not the story being told? Or like, how in Honey Heist, you are a bear and you are trying to get honey, and you cannot play a human child investigating the old abandoned house at the edge of town, but there's a cool game called Kids on Bikes that will let you do that? Great! Why is this suddenly so hard to understand in the realm of heroic fantasy, that you will fit into specific archetypes? Why do people's brains, if they have them to begin with, vanish suddenly? I know I just did a big old rant that included this within it but genuinely I think a lot of people are deeply ignorant of heroic fantasy, or don't like it, and either is fine, but then they get mad at the heroic fantasy game for having heroic fantasy archetypes when the answer is "maybe this will never make you happy because it's not for you." (Frankly, I think this is also why they love D20, because it doesn't really do straight-up heroic fantasy, and that's fine, but they do keep acting like doing a Game of Thrones pastiche is equivalent to the invention of the wheel.) Like...I remember in the Midst Q&A that Xen said they tend to not like playing typical D&D classes, but their solution was to, you know, create Midst instead of sitting around going "actually, because D&D doesn't support cyberpunk narrative and the character archetypes within very well it is an utter failure." (I could go on forever about how actually TTRPGs are not a showcase for your already extant OCs to prance around but that's a totally separate post).

Mechanics and story are inherently intertwined, is what I'm trying to get at (sorry I'm really tired and have a lot to do but I'm passionate about this answer, it will be rambly, she says like 3 pages in) and I really don't think most actual play journalists get this. At all. And I do think that CR, and Daggerheart, and the people working for it, and especially Spenser Starke, Rowan Hall, Matt Mercer, and Travis Willingham, get this more than almost anyone else in the field. I also think Brennan Lee Mulligan and Aabria Iyengar get this, and the thing is, for all the praise showered upon them, much of which I think is deserved and most of what I think is undeserved is not because they are lacking but because the person writing about them is an idiot crediting them for things they (Brennan and Aabria) would never claim to have invented, their mechanical prowess is rarely if ever written about well. Fantasy High Junior Year's downtime mechanics actually fill in a famous gap in D&D, namely, downtime, and provide an excellent marriage of story and mechanics in my opinion, and I haven't really seen any discussion, because that would require watching the part of the TTRPG show where they play the TTRPG, and knowing the vague word on the street about D&D criticism that isn't just "*nods sagely* capitalism is the BBEG."

And finally: related a bit to the edit but Critical Role used to not be able to provide any early access to press, because it was literally a live show, and I suspect they never broke the habit, and I think that is for the best. As discussed a lot of D20 coverage actually feels like they watched the press screener and then never returned to the show. And I do not know the politics about them, but given that several of these publications (notably Polygon, but some others) have been shitting on Critical Role for several years, and just generally given the way CR's leadership vs. how D20's leadership respond to fandom pressure, I suspect Critical Role does not give these journalists a ton of early or increased, if any. Honestly, why should you, if you're getting interviewed in Variety? And I think the journalists are mad, because they think they're special and should get treated as such.

I do want to wrap something up, and I want to thank @captainofthetidesbreath for talking a little about this in game design/ttrpgs and giving me the idea, but in story, you should be challenging your audience, expanding their horizons, and being new and interesting. In the actual playing of TTRPGs, especially a new one, it is vital to be inclusive and easy to understand and patient and provide points of reference. I really feel like many Actual Play journalists and some TTRPG ones as well have this equation flipped and are looking for challenging concepts that most people will never be able to get a group to be willing to play, and bells and whistles in production, but leave story as an afterthought. Critical Role designs games to actually be played and to be used specifically to tell good stories, and puts story before production, and I think that undercuts those journalists' whole deal.

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: Eddie eats you out on his dungeon master throne, mere minutes before everyone else is supposed to turn up for the next game...

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), semi-public sexual actions, minors DNI

A/N: don’t ask me why but Tongue Twister by Cash Cash really reminds me of Eddie (maybe it’s the tiktok edits) but yeah I just headcanon Eddie as a guy who fucking loves to give head, so here we are! and, I mean, just look at that tongue... anyways um yeah I hope you guys enjoy! <3

Read Part Two

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘read more’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“Eddie, seriously everyone’s gonna be here in like 10 minutes,” you warn him.

“Shhhh,” he hums as kisses down your body, gently pushing you back to sit in his dungeon master throne. “10 minutes is more than enough time,” he smirks as he sinks to his knees in front of you.

“Eddie...” your eyes flick back and forth between the door and your boyfriend in front of me.

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he whispers gently, kissing the inside of your left knee.

“I-“ you hesitate.

But Eddie just gently parts your legs with his hands, his lips quickly kissing up your inner thighs. He’s swift to hook his hands into the waist band of your panties and pull them off from underneath your short skirt. You gasp and shudder in your seat when Eddie wastes absolutely no time in swiping his tongue between your folds, licking up through your slit.

Your eyes stray from the door for a second to look down at him and you moan loudly at the sight. His head is completely lost between your thighs, hidden partially by your skirt, his large hands splayed across your thigh, keeping your legs held open as he quickly works to devour you.

You moan loudly and arch your back, your shoulders hitting the back of the throne, your hips pushing against Eddie’s face. You bite your lip to keep from making too much noise, your eyes going back to watch the door just in case. One of your hands finds its way into Eddie dark curls, griping his hair to help grind his mouth against your aching cunt.

“Oh fuck, Eddie,” you mewl shakily when he starts to pay more attention to your clit.

He hums a response as he swirls his tongue around your little bundle of nerves. The room is filled with the filthy wet sounds of him sloppily eating you; his enthusiastic groans and your pathetic whimpers being the only other sounds to grace the room.

“Mmm you always taste so fucking good baby,” he groans. “Just can’t get enough of you.”

His words make you moan again, your eyes closing shut for a moment as the pleasure of it all takes over you.

“Been wanting to taste you all day” he confesses between sucking at your clit. “Mmm and then you were wearing this short skirt.... just made it all too easy,” you can feel his smirk against your pussy.

“Eddie please” you cry softly.

You weren’t sure if you were just desperate to cum or more afraid of prolonging this and risking being caught.

“I’ve got you baby” he whispers as he speeds up his movements, swirling your clit with even more fervour.

“Fuck” you sigh as your hands ball into tight fists, one gripping the throne armrest, the other still knotted in Eddie’s hair.

“Yes, right there. Shit Eddie, just like that, fuck” you plead helplessly, completely won over by him now, your desperation to cum overpowering any other concerns you had about the situation.

“Right here?” He hums cockily, the snugness dripping in his voice as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. “Come on baby I want you to cum for me, need you to cum,” he murmurs as he flattens his tongue, kitten licking your clit with impeccable speed, just the way he knew you liked.

His name is a choked cry on your lips as you finally reach your climax. Your hips grind against his face, riding his tongue as you draw out your high.

“That’s it baby, such a good girl” he whispers as he gives you a final few gentle licks.

You slump back in the chair, panting as you tried to catch your breath again. Eddie places soft kisses to your thighs before he removes himself from between your legs. He flashes a wicked smirk as he wipes his mouth on the back of his Hellfire shirt sleeve. His smirk only grows when he grabs your panties from the floor, twirling them around his fingers.

“Eddie Munson, you give me my underwear back right-“ your demand is cut short when the door flies open and Mike and Dustin walk into the room.

Eddie throws you wink before quickly stuffing your panties into his front jean pocket, going over to greet the boys like nothing had happened. Like you weren’t sat on his throne, desperately clamping your legs shut, hoping it wouldn’t be apparent that you were now completely bare under your short skirt.

Oh, you were so gonna get him back for this.

Part Two

Masterlist

A/N: I’m sure I’m probably not the first to write something along these lines but this was just my version of it, I hope you guys enjoyed! <33

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-Fi

[54bpm]

Tips For Vtubers

Howdy there, I’m Liv and I’m a vtuber much like you, but I’ve been here the whole time so I’m here to compile stuff for you to help make your transition less scary.

To start, here’s is a post with a lot of tips for general tumblr use and here’s one for giving your blog a custom theme.

Beyond that here’s other things that aren’t mentioned but are gonna be relevant for you:

If you’re coming back to tumblr know that you can’t follow from your sideblog, if you want to follow back it will be from your main, as will your likes, replies, asks. Decide what to do with this information now before you settle into a blog.

Fully explore the settings, there's a ton of stuff hiding in there. AND do it on PC at least once, some stuff is not in the app.

Blogs have individual block lists, no idk why either. So if you want someone banned from everything you need to do that manually.

 Also enable tumblr Labs! It’s got reblog graphs which are rad (my beloved orbs) And alternate dashboards, the Blog Subscriptions one is my fave because it means all you have to do is turn on notifications to get all your fave guys in one dashboard.

Contrary to popular belief there is still a porn and adult content community here, if you want to get anywhere near them you have to have age in bio or they’ll smite you. EDIT: I posted more about how to navigate lewdposting here.

Tiktok embeds don't play nice with tumblr for some reason, if you also do tiktok then just reupload your videos and link your account there underneath.

The link post type will show up for your followers but there’s a chance it won’t show up in any tags, so don’t do going live posts like that.

BUT you can straight up embed your stream into your posts! As long as you're using the New Post Editor you should see this menu:

Click the video camera, link to your twitch and bam. There it is. You can also do this with the video post type! If you're ever worried about your post format getting bonked just go through the tags and see what posts that DO make it are doing. Together we can overcome spaghetti code.

General "tumblr culture" is to not comment on posts but its not one thats set in stone, your fellow small vtuber account is probably dying for interaction so comment on posts! scream in the tags! send funny asks! Getting interaction right now is going to be a big comfort during a weird time.

Oh yeah we have ask boxes built in, no marshmallow needed.

ALSO we have pinned posts just like twitter, but as long as you want! Put your ref & socials & art tag (yes you can keep your fanart tags) & your minors DNI & a picture of your cat if you want.

OH I do suggest picking out tags for your personal content if you plan to also do reblogging, makes it easy for newcomers to find what you're doing.

#vtuber and #indie vtuber are full of fanart for the big guys. If you wanna find each other use #vtuber uprising

Okay this post is getting so long but final tip: check out custom pages. They're on the custom theme menu and they're basically mini webpages on your blog that can have their own coding. You can do Literally Whatever. Lore! Credit page! Ref sheets! I once put a choose your own adventure where you navigated by clicking specific parts of a picture on tumblr pages. I Mean Anything.

That's all for now, please add other tips if you want. And please reblog! Not just this post but other peoples too! This will all be way less of a drag if we can find each other. 💖

EDIT: One more thing, lolisho shit Does Not Fly here. They are some of the only tags that tumblr has actually shadowbanned and there is a reporting criteria for it to get taken down. It also doesn't fly on my blog! Begone!!

[anxiety-elemental-kay]

Vash's Dual Powers in Trigun Stampede

Or: Christ on a cracker episode eleven really was that fucked up holy shit

Here’s that essay about Stampede Vash’s powers I mentioned a while back. This is another where I yell about Trigun and gender and worry I’m spouting shit that was obvious to everyone, but you’re getting the essay anyway.

Content warnings include discussion of sexual assault, pregnancy, and forced pregnancy. I’ll be talking about episode eleven a lot so. Yeah.

The first time we see Vash manifest his powers is the same time Knives and Conrad do: when he creates a black hole in his arm. We see it absorb the corpses of the people Knives just killed, and we can see from Vash’s panicked expression he has no control over it. Knives then cuts his arm off because his brother just manifested an entire black hole like right there.

(It’s worth noting that the music track for this scene is called ‘Drain Gate’, and another track using Vash’s theme is called ‘Plant of Drain’. In the episode twelve stinger the Pieces of Earth fleet reference using something called a ‘drain gate’, which might be related to FTL travel. I have no conclusions for this point, just that this powers seem to have greater implications than just ‘black hole’ in Stampede.)

So far this is stuff the manga has more or less covered before. Vash’s power specifically was creating black holes. In TriMax we see July and its citizens consumed by a black hole. For Stampede though, Orange gave Vash a secondary power: fertility.

And I do mean fertility and not virility; the capacity to become pregnant versus the capacity to impregnate someone else. At the start of episode eleven, Knives penetrating Vash is pretty obviously phallic. His knives are the literal mechanism by which he seizes control of and violates Vash’s mind and body. On the other hand, when Vash sprouts roots which connect to the other plants in the tank, it doesn’t read as phallic to me.

They look like umbilical cords.

Each root connects to the plants’ stomachs, and aside from a brief red flash this doesn’t appear to cause them any pain or distress, contrary to Vash flailing away from his brother’s blades. We see energy move down the roots from Vash to the plants, and when they unfurl to reveal their pregnancies the roots remain connected at their navels. They look surprised and afraid. Those pregnancies are, almost literally, also his.

For all of Conrad’s technobabble about the plant core and souls and whatever, Vash’s powers seem to boil down to this: he can send things to the higher plane by creating a black hole, and he can take from the plane by manifesting with his, or others’, bodies.

I think this interpretation is reinforced by a series of three shots after Knives says “Happy birthday Vash". The pussy portal opens behind Vash (with a goopy sound effect), we cut to outside the tower to see the purple flowers blooming on the roots, and cut again to inside the tank where the plants unfurl to reveal they’ve become massively pregnant. Portal, flower, pregnancy. It’s all about biological reproduction.

And then Knives goes into the pussy portal and finds an inter dimensional ovum, which he then also penetrates with his blades, explicitly to impregnate all the other plants.

Like.

Studio Orange looked at the Fifth Moon chapter in the original Trigun manga and said “You are like little baby. Watch this.” and then made an episode which made me spend the rest of the day somewhere dark and quiet when I first watched it because holy shit.

(It shouldn’t go unsaid Vash and Knives are canonically trans in Stampede, it’s in the text even if it’s not what Orange was thinking of! Vash is surrounded by yonic imagery and Knives has no dong I don’t know what else to tell you.) (edit: okay so maybe not CANON canon but i'd still argue it's an easy interpretation to make)

There’s always been a dichotomy at the heart of Vash as a character: a desire for peace versus the necessity of violence. A living weapon trying to live and love among humans who constantly reject him. Avoiding hurting others while physically capable of great and terrible destruction.

When Vash regains control he transforms the growths he was forced to make into a MacGuffin that’s easy for the twins to fight over. He transforms what he was forced to create into a bomb, because there didn’t seem to be any other way for him to neutralize the mass. (I assume this because Vash seemed to have immediate and almost perfect control of his powers in episode twelve, and it would be strange for ‘make a bomb’ to be his first choice for dealing with the roots.) Vash has been forced to create something that poses a danger to himself and everyone around him.

Vash was a weapon, even in creating life, from the roots growing to choke all of JuLai, to the pregnant plants, to the nuke cube obliterating the largest human city on the planet.

Forced creation is no different from destruction. Reproduction is not beautiful or honorable when unwilling.

(This is my essay so I’ll allow myself another aside: episode eleven is a good demonstration of why I tend to prefer genre above more realistic stories. Here, like in the manga, we see a metaphorical rape scene stripped of anything that could be (intentionally) titillating, leaving only the victim’s fear and pain. I feel like only in this kind of metaphor can sex be stripped away from assault, and instead put the focus on the emotions of the scene.)

Vash having fertility as a power is (one of many) things that fascinate me about Trigun Stampede. I’m an afab nonbinary person, I’ve always been afraid of getting pregnant, and I’ve never wanted kids. Sexual assault is something I’m deeply afraid of, and I would genuinely rather die than give birth. It’s all tied up in my feelings about my gender and my body and how it’s perceived by others. Vash is pretty much experiencing my literal worst nightmare.

All this circles back to what might be my favorite topic when it comes to analyzing Trigun: how it depicts masculinity.

There’s a lot about masculinity in Trigun that I think is genuinely radical to some degree, and whether it’s something Orange intended to add or if it’s just easier to do a queer interpretation of this version of the story isn’t a question I’m interested in. I’m gonna rub my gay trans little hands all this anime and you can’t stop me!

Stampede doesn’t depict fertility and masculinity as opposites or even incompatible. Vash and his body isn’t made repulsive because he has this power, in fact when he regains control he gets a color change and a sick new hairstyle. Vash possessing this power isn’t depicted as that different from the black hole, it’s just a thing he can do, but here it’s being taken advantage of by his brother. The disgust and horror isn’t from the metaphor of a man becoming pregnant, it’s because he was violated by someone who claims to love him and want to protect him.

For contrast, imagine a similar scene, in which a masculine character is surrounded by feminine/pregnancy imagery, and consider how it would likely be framed in most other mainstream media. Those of you who don’t live under rocks might even think of some examples! Typically in media, men seen anywhere in proximity to femininity are mocked and humiliated.

Vash’s masculinity, his identity, his personhood, are ultimately disconnected from his capacity to reproduce, and by what means his body is or is not capable of making babies. He regained agency because Meryl called out to him, and she called out because he inspired her, and she was inspired because he was out making human connections with people, trying so hard to do the right thing even when he failed. His powers are a part of him, but not what ultimately make Vash truly powerful.

I’m curious to see if/how Studio Orange will continue with this theme going forward. So much of Vash’s character is about contradiction, and in this way they’re making some of those themes even more literal. More contrast-y.

To wrap this up, here’s one more thing I’m curious about: what will become of the Independents who will be born from this? The pregnant plants escaped with Conrad and his flying saucer lab. Assuming any children survive, and considering how much the twins grew in only a year, they could have a role in the future story. What will they be like? How will their origin shape the people they become? How much will Knives control (or fail to control) his children? What will they think of humanity, of Knives, of Vash, of themselves?

[xoxo-sarah]

The Exit

↝a/n: kinda based off the song. I wanted to write more but I was tired of seeing this just sitting in my notes. First love type shit edit: I took out the little bit of smut.

↝pairing:Steve Harrington x reader

↝ Warning: angst, not proofread, heartbreak, one-sided break up(?), arguing, Stancy

↝⎙ 9.3.23

"So, how long are you going to avoid me?" Shit shit shit.

You were doing fine with avoiding him, have been for 5 months. He just couldn't leave it alone.

Well, you suppose you'd be the same way. If he cut off all contact with you after you got a new boyfriend, you'd probably be a little pissed off and curious as to why, too.

"I'm kind of busy."

"I'm sure you have a minute." Steve leaned against the door frame, eyes flickering around your whole face, looking for any hint of what he possibly could've done.

The two of you have been friends for forever. You grew up together, went through so much.

He knew your tells, knew when he had disappointed you in some way. He had gotten pretty good at finding that one out in your young-love phase.

The classic friends to lovers teen romance. The kind that the neighborhood gossip would say "I told you!", "I knew it, they were meant for each other.", And the nosy "they're parents better watch them. They'll have a grandchild on the way before they can blink." That was something you both chose to ignore.

Like numerous other things.

•••••

You were both 15 when you decided to take it from friends to girlfriend and boyfriend. It's embarrassing how giddy you were after Steve had asked you out, kicking your feet and telling all of your friends.

It just felt right. He made it feel so easy.

The dates were nice. The way you acted didn't change, you just began to kiss and hold hands slowly after. And it eventually escalated.

~

Your chest heaven in pure bliss.

Reaching forward, you pushed some hairs out of his face. His eyes fluttered open for a split second, searching your own. His iris danced in yours, mapping out every speck of color.

"God, I love you."

His eyebrows furrowed.

You had whispered it so quietly. Maybe he heard you wrong.

Dropping beside you, he let you take his hand, rubbing your finger over his knuckles, your naked bodies beginning to intertwine in a new position.

You had this glow about you right after, you always did. He couldn't look you in the eyes right now.

But he couldn't help himself. He glanced up at you, seeing you looking at your conjoined hands. You looked as if you hadn't said those words. Maybe they just slipped out, you didn't mean to.

"I can't love you." He quickly added to that, after your head shot up to look at him. "I can't love anybody, I don't think. Y/n, I," he moved to sit up, you doing the same. "I like you, I really do. I have for a long time, and I intend to do it for much longer. Love just isn't something I have felt for anyone. I can't picture myself feeling a certain “love connection” to somebody. You know?" He really didn't know how to explain it. He had felt something with you. Something he hadn't felt with any of his other friends. He doesn't know if he'd call it love, though.

You couldn't say you didn't understand. What if what you thought was love, wasn't? You were kids, you most likely didn't know what love even is or what it feels like.

"Yeah- okay." Slowly nodding, you tried to find the words. "That's okay. You don't have to love me. What I feel for you is love, I think. We have plenty of time to figure it out, right?"

He nodded, his shoulders relaxing and a lazy smile making its way onto his face. "Yeah."

Everything was fine after that. Your feelings never changed.

It wasn't until Steve had run into this girl. You had seen her around school and around town. But you never talked too much.

She seemed to find him interesting. Who didn't? He had become popular in the early years of high school.

You didn't think anything of it. Maybe you should've.

"I forgot!" Steve threw his arms up in the air.

"For the third time? I reminded you." Your voice was louder than your normal tone. You were too exhausted to yell. Waiting at the little café for 2 hours the 3rd day in a row was embarrassing and tiring.

"Wha-when?"

You just looked at him.

"Before 1st period, Steve."

He threw his head back, looking back at you with a look of realization. He wasn't about to give in.

"I could barely hear what you were saying. You know how loud the halls get, c'mon."

"Or maybe you were too busy gawking at Nancy."

His head shot up to look at you in disbelief. "What does Nance have to do with this?"

"‘Nance’? Are you kidding me?" Didn't know they were in the nickname phase. He rarely used any nicknames for you. "You know what, whatever. I'm not arguing with you right now." You had to study and it was already late. You really didn't want to focus too much on how your relationship was slowly breaking to pieces along with your heart. There was plenty of work you could do to distract you.

"No, hey," As you tried walking away, Steve reached out, grabbing your arm and softly pulling you to stand in front of him. His hand moved to your face. "Let me make it up to you, yeah?"

"I have to study."

"I'll help you study after." His fingers caressed your soft jaw, waiting for your response.

You sighed, "Fine."

There wasn't a point where you two sat down and broke up. You just kind of grew apart. You were done trying to fix something he couldn't care less about.

Pushing the fork around your tray absentmindedly, you tried to ignore the high-pitched laugh of Karen and the stupid conversations that happened on that table. The table you once sat at with Steve, talking about anything and everything. When he got those remarkable friends of his, you stopped talking. A person can only handle so many interruptions and digs from Karen and Tommy before you just decide to keep to yourself.

Your chair didn't stay cold for long. Nance sat down, and it looked like she fit in nicely.

Nearly 10 years of friendship and 3 years of a relationship all down the drain. It hurt, It really did.

It didn't help when you ran into Nancy at the store and she was the sweetest thing. She had even asked you about how you and Steve were doing. You found it weird. How were you to respond to that? Choosing to shrug it off led her to ask Steve about it. And with the pity look she gave you when you locked eyes in the school hallways, you guessed he gave an answer you wouldn't like.

Why did he look at her like that? Did he ever look at you like that? It hurt your brain to watch them from across the room. You should keep your eyes away from them. But it hurt more to know they were having a great time-together while you were in a corner, alone at the party. Chugging the rest of your pungent beer, you beelined to the kitchen to get a refill.

"Y/n."

"Steve." You didn't turn around, instead pouring your solo cup to the rim.

"Enjoying the party?" He sounded like he was talking to a friend. Once he hadn't left to feel like shit.

"Yeah, fun. Real fun."

The awkwardness between you was obvious. If someone were to walk in, they'd know something happened. Something not so good.

"So-"

"Nancy seems nice."

After getting over the shock of you interrupting him, he smiled. Actually smiled. "Yeah, Nance is great."

Was he not seeing your hurt? How could he be so blind? Of course she's wonderful.

"Um, about us-" so he had thought about you, what you two were. Maybe he could actually tell you exactly what it is, what game you were unwilling playing.

"What about us?"

"We're cool, right?"

What? We're cool- how are we cool? Leaving someone without any explanation as to why doesn't make you two cool.

He must have seen the pure confusion.

"It was a mutual decision." It was more of a statement than a question. He seemed so genuine.

Choosing to just nod, you didn't know what else to say. It was over. It had been for a while. Perhaps you were the blind one.

A few drinks in, you two were leaning against the countertop, talking like friends again. Talking about everything and anything. Maybe it was the alcohol that made you feel so relaxed and calm to be around him. You were just two friends catching up.

"I think I love her." Steve hiccuped.

Suddenly you were sober.

He continued to hiccup nonsense as you got quite.

Your mind was running a mile a second. He can easily love her but he couldn't love you? Your eyes caught sight of Nancy in the crowded living room. She easily talked to the people around her. It was easy for her. Men could drop to her feet and she wouldn't be fazed. She carried confidence and beauty. You got it, you really did. She was Nancy Wheeler.

"I need to go."

"What? C'mon, y/n, don't go." Steve slurred, watching as you put your cup down.

"It's getting late." You were off before his intoxicated mind could register you moving through the people and out the door.

He shrugged it off, bringing his own cup back to his lips.

It took 3 weeks after that party for you two to talk again. He came knocking on your door, broken and confused. He didn't know what to do. You didn't have to help him. But he was your friend before your boyfriend. You'd always be there for him, no matter how much it would hurt you.

As he cried in your arms, you held him, soothed his sobs and told him everything was going to be alright. Something no one did for you while you sat, sobbing on your couch or in your bed, not knowing what you were to him.

And you continued to be there for him until he went back. They figured it out and it left you alone, again. But it was okay because he was happy again.

You two went back to not talking until they got into an argument or took a break. You were always there.

It was a constant back and forth. An emotional rollercoaster not only for them, but for yourself.

You were helping a friend, so why did it pain you so much? It shouldn't.

Steve's knuckles against the oak door faded to the back of your mind as you continued to read the same paragraph over and over. "Y/n?" He called out. Glancing back, he made sure he hadn't imagined your car in the driveway. "I know you're home." He hiccuped.

It pained you too, you know. As he was hurting, your mind and heart was too.

Choosing to ignore him would be the first, the hardest step to peace, to happiness. It was time to put your emotions first.

He wouldn't stop everything to make sure you were okay if you were in his position.

•••••

"Talk to me, y/n." The way he leaned against the door had you deeply inhaling. He looked different. His hair had grew, it laid messy on the top of his head. The eye bags under his eyes were more prominent. His dark eyes still held the same shine.

"Steve, I was literally about to leave."

The music from the party downstairs had your head aching with every beat. The sound of a party with your friends seemed fun, until it wasn't. They had left to do their own thing. Going back home sounded nice.

"Can we go outside then? I miss talking to you."

Your mouth shut in distaste. You didn't want to talk to him. All the progress you made would be thrown out the door with those puppy dog eyes.

Reluctantly, you stepped back to sit on the guest room bed. Steve shut the door, walking over cautiously.

After a long moment of silence, Steve spoke up.

"Did I do something?"

No? Yes? Fuck.

"You know I would never deliberately do something to make you upset. You're my best friend-"

"That's actually why I'm upset." You blurted before you could help yourself.

He looked beyond confused. "What?"

It was your turn to get everything off your chest. With a big inhale, you poured your heart out. "We were more than best friends. I don't know about you, but that time meant everything to me, you meant everything to me. Until Nancy came along. You just discarded me like I wasn't your girlfriend, Steve."

For once, he didn't know how to respond. Steve stood there, just staring at your face.

Having about of his silence, you got up and walked to the door.

"You asked. Having to put your feelings before mine when you broke my heart without knowing or caring, was too much. I hope you and Nance are good, really."

-------------

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [!I don't give permission!]

[mrshesh]

Could you do kabal and reader intro thingys?? (funny or flirty idrc)

intros with kabal - flirty edition!

overview: intros the reader could have with kabal - flirty edition!

pairing: kabal x gender neutral reader, romantic

genre: fluff, spice

a/n: hi anon! kabal is a fun character. i'm still a bit unsure about his personality, so i could use some feedback on this one. thanks for the request! i hope you love it.

Kabal: Missed you. 

(Y/N): Lose the mask. I wanna see your face!

Kabal: I take it you missed me, too. 

Kabal: When’s our next date?

(Y/N): After I beat your ass?

Kabal: Go easy on me, then, babe. 

(Y/N): You’re a good fighter.

Kabal: Speed has its advantages. 

(Y/N): Care to show me those advantages? 

Kabal: Fuck no, I’m not doing this. 

(Y/N): What happened to you being a Black Dragon asshole?

Kabal: I’m your boyfriend before I am Black Dragon. 

(Y/N): Kano’s been pissing me off lately.

Kabal: I’ll make sure he never bothers you again. 

(Y/N): I’m pissed that he treats you like shit, Kabal. 

(Y/N): Kabal… 

Kabal: Yeah, babe?

(Y/N): We’ve talked about the mask. 

Kabal: You look tired as shit. 

(Y/N): My problems have been weighing down on me a bit, yeah.

Kabal: Let me help you with that stress, babe. 

(Y/N): What’s the deal with the Black Dragon, anyway?

Kabal: Can’t tell you. 

(Y/N): Am I gonna have to beat it out of you? 

Kabal: Damn.

(Y/N): What?

Kabal: You look hot. 

(Y/N): You don’t strike me as a family man. 

Kabal: I can see myself having a family with you. 

(Y/N): As long as you keep Kano out of the picture… 

(Y/N): Pleaaaaase? 

Kabal: I promise you, babe, it’s not that interesting. 

(Y/N): I just wanna see your sword collection!

Kabal: I’ve got the weekend off. 

(Y/N): Deserved.

Kabal: You do, too - that’s why I’m taking you out. 

(Y/N): Do you even like Kano?

Kabal: I only like you. 

(Y/N): So… no?

[loversj0y]

id meet you where the spirit meets the bones

inspired by @lillylvjy's ghost au! go give it a read and give lilly some love!!

wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: death, lots of talks about death, reader cries a few times, nightmares, reader nearly dies, stalking, body horror, slightly suggestive stuff (wilbur is flirty af)

word count: 13k. i am not sorry

note: this has not been edited/beta read at all. also i know jack shit about ghosts tbh aside from the light pagan/spirit work i used to do so. dont take any of the ghostly advice here seriously its all for spooky vibes and ambiance. also if anyone can notice the red flags i include at a Specific Section i will give u a smooch, title taken from ivy by taylor swift

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng, @core-queen

You didn’t believe in ghosts. You weren't strong in this opinion, it was just a matter of not believing everything you saw on the internet. You never had any personal experiences with ghosts yourself, so you had no reason to actually believe in them. 

While this didn’t mean a lot, it did mean that the house everyone avoided on the corner was about to be yours. 

You knew the stories and the warnings:

Be careful! You know they say those boys haunt those walls!

It was brutal what happened here, are you sure it’s safe? 

Good luck! They say those who move in there either leave dead or never leave! 

Honestly, it didn’t deter you. A brutal murder of two brothers in the 90s should have scared you. However, you went in for a showing, and the place seemed perfectly fine. It was the cheapest place you could buy, and you couldn’t stand having a landlord anymore. Ghosts are miles better than landlords, at least they live in the place and don’t just act like they do. 

You took the deal. The move in process was pretty easy, too. You borrowed a work friend’s truck, and you and her brought in some of your heavier furniture (your old mattress, the couch you bought on Facebook, the TV you got from a friend who couldn’t take it with him), and the rest of the boxes you and her just piled into the living room. You thanked her, paying her for her help as well, and then it was just you, standing in your new, box-filled living room. 

You took a deep breath as you looked around, almost stunned by the stillness of the room. You’d never actually lived on your own before, always some family or roommate with you, so it was… almost uncomfortable to see an empty room with no sound. 

The silence was broken after a moment, though, your phone ringing loudly from the kitchen counter. You walked over and answered, starting to unpack as you spoke on the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie, how’s the move going?” It was your mum, voice kind and welcoming. 

“It’s good, mum,” you chuckled, opening up your first box of kitchenware, “Working on boxes now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.” You could hear her smile through the phone. “The place is nice?”

“Yeah, the house is really nice,” you carefully shifted some pots into the back of the cabinet, “it’s an older house, but it’s lovely. The backyard is really pretty too, I think you’d love it. Really peaceful.”

“Oh, love, not to be rude, but I don’t imagine I’ll be coming there anytime soon.”

“I know, I know, you don’t like the drive.”

“Well, yes, but…” you could hear the apprehension in her voice, “sweetie, you’ve heard about this… place you’re living in, of course. I’m not sure how safe it is.” 

You chuckled, standing up fully and leaning against the kitchen counter, “Never took you for a believer in ghosts, mum.” 

The air felt a bit tense around you. 

“Well, when you’re my age, sweetheart, you’d rather not test your luck.” 

That brought a laugh out of you, “Mum, you don’t look a day over thirty.” You smiled, looking around the house a bit. “Besides, have you even heard the full story?”

“I’ve heard about the brutal murder part, but I suppose not much else.” 

“It was two boys,” you sighed softly, “Eighteen and twenty-six. If ghosts are even real, I don’t imagine they’d want to cause much trouble. If anything, they’d probably be scared.” 

A rattling sound came from your left, causing you to falter in your words. You walked to see the source of the noise, quickly noticing a few of the pots still in the box had shifted, presumably having fallen over.

You continued speaking easily, “I mean, god, mum, imagine dying and being forced to live in the place you were killed while seeing tens of people move into your home. I’d be confused and scared too.”

“I suppose,” you heard your mother reply, and it felt like some of the tension left the room. “Either way, just promise me, you’ll be safe? If anything seems amiss, I can call my sister-“

“Oh, god, mum, Aunt Cate couldn’t tell a ghost from a sock, I’d rather not have her in here spewing her Catholic bullshit.”

Your mother laughed, and it made some of the homesickness fade a bit, “Fair enough, dearie. Listen, I’ve got to run, but call me tomorrow, please?”

“I will, mum. I love you.”

“Love you too, dear.” 

The line hung up, and you sighed softly, hanging your head for a moment. It felt too quiet already. You opened up Spotify, choosing some random playlist and continuing your work with unpacking. You played some soft indie music, gentle but upbeat guitar flowing from your phone's speaker as you finished unpacking your kitchen. You started working on the living room items, small knick knacks and photos being arranged carefully. 

As you cleaned, the playlist took a bit of a wild turn. Instead of the soft plucking of a guitar, the next song starts, and you’re immediately stunned by the sound of some electronic-sounding music. You walked over to your phone which — you didn’t remember leaving it unlocked — was playing a song called “Able Sisters”. From Animal Crossing. Very odd choice. It wasn’t bad though, so you pretty much just shrugged it off, going back to unpacking. 

Nothing else weird really occurred that night, and you wouldn’t even consider the music thing that weird. It just was technology being weird. You ordered food, sitting cross-legged on the couch and watching a movie while you ate. After you ate, you cleaned up after yourself and became acutely aware of how you felt far more Adult than you ever had before. You sat back down and relaxed for the first time all day. You were curled into the side of the couch, and to your surprise, you actually didn’t feel very alone. You figured by now you’d be going through your contacts, calling anyone just to feel like there was another person with you. It wasn’t long before you’d fallen asleep, and if you woke up with a blanket around you that certainly hadn’t been near you the night before, you didn’t notice. 

You finished your move-in process with little hassle. By the end of the week, you were pretty much completely moved in, save for a few boxes that you had to bring up to the attic. You began to understand why people thought the house was creepy, especially with the amount of creaks and noises you’d hear throughout the day, but given the age of the house, it didn’t bother you. 

You carried the boxes upstairs, opening the door to the attic and stacking them up in the corner. You looked around at the attic, smiling softly. There were signs that the attic was lived in, and it was actually kind of nice to see. There were a few things that had been left behind from past owners, and you walked around, taking a look at some of the items. There were a few boxes with things like old clothes, and from looking at them, it hit you that these weren’t any items that had been left behind, but rather the items left behind by the two dead boys’ family. It sent a shiver down your back, but it made you more sad than scared. You went back to one of your boxes, pulling out an old candle and a spare box of matches. There was a small table in the corner of the room, and you set the candle down, lighting it. 

Even though you didn’t think there was anyone here, you still spoke outloud, “it’s not much, but I hope it’s something.”

You went back to looking through some of their items, trying to find anything that seemed important to add to the corner table. It relieved you to see that most of the items were non-sentimental items. There were no photos or family heirlooms that had been left behind, just normal items. You did find some smaller objects that you could add to the small table, though, like a red beanie and two CDs. You walked around the small attic a bit more, smiling at an acoustic guitar you found stashed behind some of the boxes. You were shocked by the lack of dust, but it was even more shocking that the guitar was in tune. You didn’t know how to play much except for a few simple chords, so it was at least nice to know there was one up here.

The next object you found was also hidden. It was stashed in the very corner, hidden in a small crevice between paneling in the wall. It was a small compass. You held it up to the light, gently trying to clean some debris off of it. The weird thing happened when you turned the compass over, noticing a small engraving on the back. Before you could read it, though, the compass flew out of your hand, hitting the wall before rolling back into the crevice that you’d found it. 

Okay. Definitely weird. You felt your opinion of whether or not ghosts existed being swayed. 

“Okay,” you said, backing up a bit, “Sorry. I won’t touch it again.”

You spoke simply. If ghosts were real, you still did believe that they’d probably be more scared than anything, especially if someone was touching their things. And there wasn’t a problem until you’d touched the compass, so you figured that must’ve been something important. If it was something important, you didn’t want to mess with it. It wasn’t yours, point-blank. So, instead, you went back to cleaning up the attic, sorting through boxes and neatly arranging them, and adding small things you’d find to the table in the corner. By the time you finished it was nearly dinner, so you carefully put out the candle (not wanting it to be burning unsupervised) and went downstairs to make dinner.

The few days past that went by with pretty much no weirdness. You truly weren’t sure what to believe now. You almost thought yourself crazy, but it was probably just a side effect of not having left the house since you’d moved in. You had work today, though. It was your first day back, and for whatever reason, you felt nervous. You definitely seemed it too. You nearly burnt your breakfast, cursing and fretting around the kitchen, a slight shake to your hands. You chose an outfit for the day, setting it on the bed. You rushed to take a shower, leaving the bathroom humid and steamy. You got dressed and finished making yourself look presentable before making some coffee to bring with you to work. You kept fretting with your hair and fidgeting. You walked back to the bathroom, trying to double check your hair. The mirror was still fogged up, causing you to groan. 

Instead, though, you felt your brain short-circuit as you leaned back and words started slowly appearing on the foggy of the mirror. 

‘Don’t worry. You look amazing.’

A blush rose to your cheeks as you took a moment to process. 

Ghosts?

Yeah. Ghosts.

Nice one, though, at the very least. You weren’t exactly going to scream and run when the compliment did actually help relax you a bit. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly, focusing on the matter at hand a bit more. 

“Can you write your name, if you don’t mind? I’d like to know who I’m living with.” The question felt a bit risky, especially since this was the first time you’d gotten proper confirmation that he existed. 

‘Wilbur. And the other one is Tommy.’

You nodded, “Well, thank you, Wilbur.” You thought for a moment before your phone alarm went off, letting you know you had to leave for work. You cursed, sighing, “Okay, I have to go, but I’d like to talk more when I get back. Is that possible?”

You awaited a response, and you got one after a moment. 

‘:)’

Okay. That’s good. At least you think it is. 

You nodded, pulling your bag up on your shoulder before walking to the door. You paused at the door, turning back,

“Bye, Wilbur. Bye, Tommy. I’ll be home later!” you spoke out into the empty room, hoping they were there to hear it, before rushing out the door to work. 

Work was uneventful for the most part. A few coworkers asked about your new place, asking if you’d heard any ghosts or creepy things. You decided to lie, telling them that you hadn’t experienced anything. The last thing you’d wanted was people somehow confirming the existence of ghosts and either considering you crazy or trying to make a spectacle of the boys. It was bad enough that they weren’t allowed to move on in the afterlife, you didn’t want to make things worse for them. 

You did spend quite a bit of your freetime at work looking things up about ghosts, however. Most of the stuff you found was pretty fake from the looks of it, but honestly, up until you’d moved in, you never even thought about if ghosts were real or not. You found a lot of potentially good information too, though, about pendulums and spirit boards and how to make them at home. 

When you got home, you opened the door slowly, humming as you walked in, “Hi, Tommy. Hi, Wilbur. I’m home.” There was a smile on your face. You didn’t get much of a response, not that you were really expecting one, but there was a knocking that let you know you were at least heard.

You went to your room, grabbing an old necklace. It was a simple necklace, a thin silver chain and a small guitar pendant. You also grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper. After a moment, you had an idea as well, printing out a morse code guide. You sat down in front of your coffee table, writing out a circle with ‘Yes’, ‘No’, and ‘Maybe’ written along opposite sides of the circle. You also put the morse code sheet next to you, sighing softly. Okay, communing with the dead. This is nothing. Sure. You can do this.

“So, if you’re ready, and want to communicate, can you move the pendant to yes?” You asked outloud, holding up your necklace over the circle. After a moment, the pendant started swinging to ‘yes’, and you took a slow breath.

“Okay, so for yes and no, we can use this. If you want to elaborate, you can knock with the morse code here, and I can work it out. Does that work?”

Once again, the pendant swung to yes. 

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Who am I talking to right now? Is this Wilbur? Or Tommy?”

You got no response from the pendant. Instead, you heard knocking on the table, and you started scribing the knocking.

‘-... --- - ....’

You looked down at the sheet. ‘Both’. 

You nodded, thinking for a moment, “Is it okay that I’m here?”

The pendant swung to ‘yes’, and you let out a soft breath of relief. 

“Are you guys okay? I mean, it-it’s probably scary being stuck as ghosts and such, so…”

There was a long pause before you got any response. 

‘.. / .- -- / -. --- - / ... -.-. .- .-. . -.. / .. / .- -- / .- / -... .. --. / -- .- -.’

‘I AM NOT SCARED I AM A BIG MAN’ 

Before you could even respond, there was more knocking.

‘... --- .-. .-. -.-- --..-- / - .... .- - / .-- .- ... / - --- -- -- -.-- .-.-.- / .-- . .----. .-. . / --- -.- .- -.-- / - .... --- ..- --. .... --..-- / ..-. --- .-. / - .... . / -- --- ... - / .--. .- .-. - .-.-.-’

‘sorry, that was Tommy. We're okay though, for the most part.’

You chuckled softly, “That’s good to hear. Sorry, Tommy, I didn’t mean any offense.”

‘.. - .----. ... / ..-. .. -. . .-.-.- / -.. --- -. .----. - / - --- ..- -.-. .... / -- -.-- / -.-. --- -- .--. .- ... ... / .- --. .- .. -. --..-- / - .... --- ..- --. .... .-.-.-’

‘IT'S FINE. DON'T TOUCH MY COMPASS AGAIN, THOUGH.’

“Oh, of course,” you hummed, “if you want, I can set up an area in the attic for you guys to keep more private things. Two areas, actually, so you guys have your own space. Does that work?”

The pendant swung to ‘Yes’ incredibly fast, and you chuckled. 

“Alright, good to hear, then. Speaking of, is there anything you guys want me to do differently? Or maybe that you want me to stop doing?”

There was another long pause.

‘-. --- .. ... .’

‘Noise.’

“Noise?”

‘.-- . .----. .-. . / -- --- .-. . / ... . -. ... .. - .. ...- . / - --- / .-.. --- ..- -.. / -. --- .. ... . ... / -. --- .-- .-.-.-’

‘We’re more sensitive to loud noises now.’

You nodded, “Okay. When I put on the TV or music, just knock and I can turn it down. Or, if you’re able to, you can turn it down yourself. I’m not sure what I can do about my alarm, though… I need them loud to wake up.”

‘.-- . / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / .-- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..-’

‘WE COULD WAKE YOU’

“You could?”

‘.. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. .-.-.- / -.. --- / -. --- - / .-.. . - / - --- -- -- -.-- / .-- .- -.- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.- / .... . / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... .-. . .- -.- / ... --- -- . - .... .. -. --. .-.-.-’

‘I could. Do not let Tommy wake you. He will break something.’

You giggled a bit, nodding, “Alright. Sure. I don’t have work tomorrow, so we can test it out, and if not, we can see what else we could do.”

The pendant swung to ‘Yes’, and you hummed happily. 

“Alright, if that’s everything, then I’m going to make dinner. But, if you need to get my attention, just knock three times. Or if you have a better way, you can do that too, but still. This is your home before it was mine, and I want to make it be comfortable for you both. You guys are more just like… my ghost roommates. Okay?”

The pendant swung to ‘yes’ once again before you gently set it down. 

You stood, going to the kitchen before speaking again, “Oh, and if you want to use anything that’s in the living room, feel free. I don’t mind. If it’s something in my room, just ask first.”

You turned on some music as you started cooking, keeping it low for their sake. You were in your element when you cooked, finding comfort in the motions as you thought about today. Ghosts were real. It was not something you could be indifferent to anymore. Ghosts are real, and not just that, you also lived with two of them. It was actually nice, though. You didn’t feel alone, at least. 

You hummed to yourself as you cooked, leaning up on your tiptoes to try and grab a plate from one of the top shelves. You struggled, nearly dropping the plate before it carefully was lifted, seeming to float down from the shelf. Even if you couldn’t see the ghost, you could feel how close he was to you as he gently set the plate down on the counter.

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, cheeks tinted pink. You smiled, once again feeling relieved by the fact that you weren’t alone. In a house known for being scary, you’d never felt safer. 

You finished the rest of dinner with ease, taking a plate and walking back to the living room. When you walked back in, you noticed something interesting. The seat on the far left of the couch, while still empty, had your Rubix cube floating, turning occasionally. You chuckled softly, sitting to the far right to eat your dinner. You looked back at the Rubix cube, trying to figure out which one was playing with it.

“Is there anyway for me to tell the difference between you both? Since I can’t see you?”

The Rubix cube paused in it’s movements, and for a moment, you almost wondered if you scared them off. 

After a moment, the pendant you had been using earlier lifted, and you watched as the necklace floated to presumably be placed around a neck. 

‘.-- .. .-.. -... ..- .-.’

You looked down at the paper. ‘Wilbur.’

You nodded, understanding quickly. “Hold on, I’ll get one for you, Tommy.” You set the plate down, hurrying back to your room and grabbing another old necklace. This one was simpler, a thin black chord with a small silver dog-tag on it. 

You walked back in, moving towards the Rubix cube, “Here, Tommy.” 

You felt a cold tingle on your hand as the necklace lifted, slowly being arranged around his neck as well. To you, it was just two floating necklaces. However, it gave you enough distinction that you could at least tell who was who.

You smiled, sitting back down to finish eating. You turned on a movie, though you didn’t pay too much attention. You were incredibly aware of the two ghosts sitting next to you. It was Wilbur sitting next to you and next to him was Tommy. It was almost weird how comfortable you felt with them here. Even if they’d been here the entire time, it was different now that there was actual confirmation that they were here. You didn’t know anything about ghosts. You felt completely out of your element. You knew that they could interact with the environment, since they could pick stuff up and put things on, but you didn’t know what else they could do. Could they make noises? Could they become full-blow apparitions? As little as you knew, you felt worried about asking. It took a few days just for them to actually let you know they existed. The last thing you wanted to do was scare them away in their own home.

Could they even leave if they wanted to? People only ever spoke about them being here in the place they were killed. They probably wouldn’t even want to stay here if they had a choice. It made you upset to think about, the fact that they may not have a choice in this whatsoever. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to yell or cry or hug them because of it. 

You stood up and cleaned your plate, chewing on your lip while you did. You wished you could help them. If they wanted it. That was another thing you had to consider. Maybe they were happy here. You didn’t know, honestly, and you wanted to know. For now you wouldn’t ask, though. Maybe, hopefully, when you got closer with them. 

You walked back over to the couch, sitting back where you had been before. The TV had changed to some ghost show, and it almost made you laugh. You went to grab the remote, but knocking stopped you.

‘- .... .- - / .. ... / -. --- - / .-- .... .- - / .. - / .. ... / .-.. .. -.- . --..-- / - .... . ... . / ..-. ..- -.-. -.- .. -. / .-- .-. --- -. --. ..- -. …’

‘THAT IS NOT WHAT IS IT LIKE, THESE FUCKIN WRONGUNS,’

You snorted, chuckling a bit, “Yeah. Most of these ghost hunting shows are completely made up.” You looked, noting that it was Tommy who had moved. “They fake everything, so they can keep making money, Tommy. It’s stupid. They’ve probably caused more harm than anything else.”

‘- .... .- - .----. ... / -.. ..- -- -... .-.-.- / - .... . -.-- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. / .--- ..- ... - / .- ... -.- / ..-. .. .-. ... - --..-- / .- - / .-.. . .- ... - / - --- / -... . / .... --- -. . ... - / .- -... --- ..- - / .. - .-.-.-.’

‘THAT’S DUMB. THEY SHOULD JUST ASK FIRST, AT LEAST BE HONEST ABOUT IT.’

You sighed, nodding, “I agree. I mean, if there are ghosts there, they’re probably just annoying them. Or even worse, they’re probably scaring them.”

You got no response to that, deciding instead to change the channel to something more lighthearted. 

You started getting tired, and you grabbed your blanket, pulling it over your legs. You spread it out as well, letting it cover both of the boys as well. You noticed and looked curiously as you could “see” their legs through the blanket. Obviously, it was just the outline of their – bodies? Ghost form? God, it was starting to confuse you a bit. You chuckled a bit when you noticed, though, smiling softly. At least you weren’t going completely crazy. 

You leaned back a bit, leaning your legs on the coffee table as you watched the TV. You felt the cushion behind you shift slightly, a cold and tingly feeling coming across your shoulders. You looked to your right, seeing Wilbur’s necklace shift a bit. Huh. Did he- was his arm around your shoulder?

You felt yourself flush a bit, leaning into the sensation. The tingling feeling went away slowly, and you felt yourself relaxing more and more. It didn’t take much longer before you fell asleep.

When you woke up, you were in your bed. You didn’t remember how you got there. What you did wake up to, though, was a gentle shaking and a chill on your arm. Your eyes fluttered open, and you were met with the sight of a floating necklace. You almost laughed out of absurdity, blinking the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Good morning to you too, Wilbur,” you chuckled, slowly sitting up. “Thanks for waking me.”

You stretched, and the only reply you got was a gentle knocking on your nightstand. There was no pattern or morse code used, just a few taps to let you know he was responding. 

You stood and got started with your morning, and you noted the soft sound of the necklace Wilbur wore as he followed you out to the living room. It was harder to spot Tommy. What wasn’t hard to spot was the girl sitting in your living room. 

“Uh… hello?” You asked, and the girl’s head whipped around to see you. 

“Oh! Sorry! Tommy let me in.” 

… What? “What? He did?”

She stood, walking over to you, outstretching her hand, “I’m Molly.”

You shook her hand, nodding, “Nice to meet you. Wait- I’m sorry- you know Tommy?”

She nodded quickly, and you noted a light blush on her face, “Yeah. I’ve been visiting this house for a long time, so I’ve known Wilbur and Tommy for a while. Tommy and I are really close.” 

You nodded slowly, “Right. Okay. I didn’t realize they had friends.”

“Tom and I are a bit closer than that,” she blushed darker, rubbing the back of her neck, “Wait, you know about them, too. And you’re staying here?” “Yeah. It’s their house, I’m just living in it,” you shrugged. “You and Tommy are… dating?”

“Essentially. Sorry about just coming in, he said you wouldn’t mind.” 

“It’s alright. I mean, bit of a scary way to wake up, to be honest, but if he trusts you, and you do this often, then I’m sure you mean no harm.”

She smiled, “I really don’t. I just liked giving them company at first, and then Tommy and I got closer, so…” the blush returned, and she leaned back into what you assumed were Tommy’s arms, now that you noticed his necklace behind her. 

“Alright. Cool. As long as you don’t break shit, I don’t mind.”

Molly nodded quickly, “of course! I usually can’t stay long anyways. I just like stopping by on my way to work or when I have a day off from classes.”

“Alright,” you nodded, walking to the kitchen, “well, if you ever want, I can clean up the spare room for you to stay in if you need it. Do you want any coffee?”

“I’m good, thank you, though.” Molly smiled, moving to sit back on the couch. Wilbur was still behind you as you started brewing coffee, and you could faintly feel his hand on your back. 

You grabbed a notepad, holding out a pen for Wilbur and whispering to him, “So, they’re dating?”

‘Yep. She’s really nice.’

You nodded, humming softly, “She seems so. Do you like her?”

‘Yeah. She’s good for Tommy. He would get pretty lonely when it was just me here and everyone else would leave due to us being here. Plus, it’s funny to watch him get flustered whenever she comes around.’

You chuckled, nodding. “Alright. I’m glad he has someone then. Are there others? Do you have anyone?”

‘There were others. We don’t know what happened to most of them since they all pretty much just stopped coming around. But if you’re asking if I’m single, darling, I’m very much available ;)’

You flushed, turning to grab your coffee, “I- I just meant if I should expect any other visitors or anything.” You took a sip as he replied.

‘Nope. Just her. And don’t get shy on me now, love. You’re too cute to hide your face from me.’

You choked on your coffee, face turning a beet red as you coughed. 

Molly ran in, looking at you with concern, “Are you alright?”

You nodded, giving her a meek thumbs up as you calmed down, “‘m fine.” You coughed a bit more, slowly taking in a breath.

Molly looked down at the notepad, grinning after a moment, “Ohh, I see. You’ve caught Wilbur’s attention, then?”

“Guess so,” you rubbed the back of your neck, a blush still resting on your cheeks.

“No wonder he seemed so happy when he talked about you.” She giggled, turning.

“Wait- talked about me? You can hear them?”

She turned back, looking a bit confused, “Uh, yeah. I’m actually shocked they haven’t spoken to you yet. Though, it took them a long while before they started talking back to me too, so I guess it makes sense.”

“So, they can speak then?”

She snorted, “Yeah. Of course they can. Do you- you don’t know much about ghosts, do you?” You shook your head slowly, “I didn’t even know if they were real before this.”

“Oh,” she hummed, “Well, as I’m sure you know now, they are very real. Tom and Wilbur and most ghosts are really cool. They’re just kind of doing their own thing. Some can be less than friendly, but don’t worry about them too much.”

You nodded as you listened, “How do you know so much about this?”

She shrugged, “I’ve been talking with ghosts since I was a kid.”

“Huh. Alright, well, you clearly know more about it than I do. Anything you can tell me, I’d be glad to hear.”

She thought for a moment, “Tommy’s favorite color is red. And Wilbur’s is teal,” she perked up, “Oh! And Tommy’s birthday is April 9th, and Wilbur’s is September 14th,” she smiled.  “It’s probably best if they tell you more about themselves, though.”

You nodded, “Right, well, thank you, though.”

She grinned, “Of course. Have fun with Wilbur,” she giggled, and it made your cheeks flush once again as she walked back out to the living room. 

You took a deep breath, leaning against the counter. Wilbur was still by you, and you watched as the pen lifted once more. 

‘Didn’t mean to make you choke. Sorry for taking your breath away ;)’

You snorted softly, “Oh, you very well meant it. But I don’t mind.”

‘Oh? Good to know then. I am glad you’re okay, though. Don’t need three ghosts in one place.’

For some reason, him wanting you to be okay made you flush more than any of his actual flirting.

A few weeks had gone by, and now, you had fallen into a comfortable routine. Wilbur was always ready to flirt, it seemed, whether it be through morse code, notes left around your house, or by using your phone to play romantic songs. It was really nice. Your week always followed a similar pace, you’d go to work on the weekdays, spend time with the boys when you got home, and Molly would come over on Saturday mornings and most of Sunday to hang out with you and Wilbur, but mostly Tommy. You learned more about her, learning that she was going to a University nearby, and that she’d moved to this town a few years back, where she quickly started visiting the boys after learning about the rumors of them in town. You learned more about Wilbur and Tommy too. Wilbur liked indie music and cats. Tommy liked songs that reminded him of being alive and video games, watching them and playing them if he could. You really enjoyed your routine, and you had grown to genuinely care about them.

The first time you hear Wilbur’s voice was an accident. It was late, about three A.M., and you couldn’t sleep. It was a weekend, thankfully, but you couldn’t stand just sitting there in the dark anymore. You got up, walking around the living room when you heard soft music playing. Curiously, you walked up towards the attic where the sound was coming from. You could make out the sounds of a guitar, and from outside the door, you could hear singing. And my god, it was beautiful. He had a soft voice, melodic but not too deep. After listening for a moment, you opened the door, searching for the sound.

While you didn’t see him, you saw the guitar perched up, so you knew it was Wilbur. You walked in slowly, as if treading on eggshells. 

“Your voice is really lovely,” you spoke softly, standing in front of the chair Wilbur was on. 

It was silent before you heard his actual speaking voice. 

“Darling, what are you doing up? It’s late.”

You took a deep breath upon hearing his voice properly for the first time. “Couldn’t sleep, and I heard music, so I got curious, I guess,” You sat down in front of him, “You’re speaking. I’m sorry if I wasn’t meant to hear you, I just…” you couldn’t really think up more of an explanation, shrugging.

“it’s alright. I was mostly just trying to spare you from hearing Tommy talk your ear off,” he chuckled, and if his singing wasn’t melodic enough, his laugh alone definitely was. 

You chuckled, smiling softly, “Well, I’ll make sure to be prepared for that in the morning.”

He chuckled once more, “Good. He’ll be wanting to say a lot now that he can.” He hummed softly, “do you want me to play for you? Since you can’t sleep?”

“That would be really nice,” you smiled, rubbing at your eyes a bit.

“Alright. Let’s go to your room then? It’s probably far more comfortable than sitting up here.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to disturb you too much or anything.”

He nodded, “I only came up here so I wouldn’t wake you. Come on,” you watched as the necklace and guitar lifted, signifying that he’d stood up. You and him walked back to your room quietly, and you laid back down once you got there. You felt the bed dip next you, and you saw the guitar shift into a playing position. He started playing, and you heard him start singing once again. His gentle sounds quickly lulled you into sleep.

And if you woke up feeling a bit colder than usual, and more specifically a cold spot where an arm would have wrapped around your waist, neither of you mentioned it. 

Tommy did talk your ear off that morning, excited to finally be able to talk to you, making comments about how “he’d wanted to talk to you weeks ago” and that “he’d only kept quiet because Wilbur said he had to.” Communication was a lot easier now that they felt comfortable speaking to you. There was a consequence to hearing them now, though. Wilbur’s flirting only got more bold. When you’d get ready for work, he’d always meet you outside your room with a smart comment about how “lucky those coworkers of yours are if they get to see you looking like that all day”. It was interesting, though, the little things you’d noticed about him. He was always more flirty during the daytime, but once it was night, he was more soft. You’d grown used to the chilled feeling that comes from his arms wrapping around you as he whispered about how glad he was that you’d stayed. 

He didn’t really sleep. Neither of them needed it, but you found that Tommy liked to, so you always kept the bed in the spare room neat for him. While Wilbur didn’t like to sleep, he was protective of you. It was a bit odd at first that he wanted to be with you when you’d slept, but you found a great deal of comfort in feeling the chill from him pressed against you while you slept. Especially on some nights like tonight. 

It wasn’t often you got nightmares anymore. They grew less frequent when Wilbur would hold you in your sleep, but he didn’t always do that every night. You didn’t know what he did when he wasn’t here with you, but you weren’t going to ask. He deserved his privacy, after all. Despite it, you did always miss the feeling of his arms around you. He wasn’t with you when you’d gone to bed. 

You woke up screaming. Within seconds, you were pressed against your headboard, head pressed in your hands while you sobbed and gasped for breath, thumb placed on your pulse point. Tommy actually arrived first, your door flinging open and his necklace swinging wildly. 

Before he had time to react, Wilbur was rushing in quickly behind him, going straight for you. You felt his arms wrap around you tightly, and the cold did a great deal to shock you out of the panic, leaving you just sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him, though it took you a second to process how he was positioned. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered softly, “you’re right here, you’re with us, it’s okay.” 

You leaned into his reassurance. Eventually, you felt more movement on the bed, and Tommy’s hand rested on your back gently as both boys helped you calm down. Your hands gripped onto the feeling of soft fabric that you couldn’t see. 

Wilbur continued to whisper reassurances and reminders that you were okay and that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. When you stopped crying, Wilbur slowly helped you lay back down, never letting go of you for a second. He didn’t want you to think you were alone, even for a second. 

You were exhausted when he laid you down, still wrapped in his arms. Your eyes opened, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of a faded blue sweater through bleary, tear-stained eyes. You didn’t think about it too long, and instead you went to bed in Wilbur’s arms with Tommy next to you, falling asleep quickly from the exhaustion. 

(When you woke up, you basically had to wrestle to get out of bed between Wilbur holding you close and Tommy’s limbs strewn out over the two of you. But with a bit of wrangling, you chose to stay in bed and wouldn’t have changed it for the world.)

While your routine was good, there were still some rougher days. Work could go so well before things went wrong. Like today, when you’d fucked up an assignment and proceeded to get yelled at by your boss for about thirty minutes before hiding to cry in the bathroom. You calmed yourself down enough to at least look like you hadn’t cried, using some cold water to calm the redness down your face. You walked home slowly, opening the door, and you were quickly met with Wilbur’s voice chiming out from the living room.

“Welcome home, darling! How was work?”

You dropped your bag at the door, shrugging, “Eh. It was honestly quite shit. For now, I just want to relax a bit.”

He chuckled, “Well, I’ve got some ideas to help you relax.”

Instead of getting flustered, or having any major reaction, you just smiled flatly, sighing a bit. You could feel his concern, sighing again, “I’ll be fine, Wilbur. Just a bad day.”

You walked to your room, grabbing a notebook and a pencil case in the hopes that some drawing would calm you down. You walked back out to the living room, sitting on the couch next to Tommy, who was playing with your Rubix cube again. Wilbur walked over and stood in front of you, and you could feel his eyes on you as you set down your pencil case.

One of the more endearing habits that Tommy had was how he only liked his things near him. He always wanted his space to be the exact way he put things, and he would complain, loudly, if you moved things whatsoever. The most often way he complained? He would just smack things. Just completely push them out of his space and across the room.

And he did that now. You watched as you went to grab a pencil, and before you could, he smacked the pencil case across the room so hard it slammed against the wall before hitting the floor. 

“Tommy!” Wilbur chastised, but before he could actually get on his case, you burst out laughing.

Full, genuine laughing, your eyes closing . Your life was so bizarre already, what with the whole living with ghosts thing. And after an absolutely shitty day, one of them just smacked your entire pencil case against the wall just because it was slightly too close to him. It was bizarre and weird and absurd, but it was your life. 

You laughed until your ribs were tired. When your eyes opened again, still crinkled at the sides, you were met with a sight, to say the least.

You saw Wilbur. You saw him. He was looking back at you, face flushed and staring at you in awe. Holy shit.

“...Wilbur?”

He looked startled by the fact you made eye contact with him, and he struggled to find words. But god, he was gorgeous. Thick curly brown hair with beautiful brown eyes to match. He was tall, too, and he wore a faded blue sweater and plain black pants. 

He didn’t have a chance to respond before Tommy did, and you watched as, within seconds, he went from being completely invisible to… Tommy. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and he was wearing a white t-shirt with red sleeves, and a pair of cargo shorts. 

“Thank god, we don’t have to be invisible anymore. I was getting so tired of it, but of course Wilbur said we had to, didn’t want to risk scaring you off, as if you would be!” He barked out a laugh, and you chuckled as well, blinking a bit.

“I’m sorry, what? You- I can see you? And you can control that sort of stuff?”

Tommy snorted, “Of course you can see us. That’s kinda how ghosts work, innit?”

You gave them a closer look, noting that, although you could see them, they were still slightly translucent. “How the hell should I know how ghosts work? I’m not the ghost here!” 

You laughed, and Wilbur seemed to finally gain some sense of vocal ability, “We can control it, but our natural state is like this. Well, kind of. There’s a more… accurate form, but we don’t really show that to anyone. We’ve found that it usually scares people out, so we tend to wait.”

You nodded, “What is the more accurate form?”

Wilbur leaned forward, ruffling your hair, “Don’t worry about it.”

You pouted a bit but nodded regardless, “Okay. Well, as weird as it is, it’s also… really cool. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to see you guys.” You took Wilbur’s hand, inspecting it carefully. Other than the slight translucent nature of them, they just looked normal. A bit paler than they probably would have been alive, but still just completely normal. 

You let go of his hand, looking up at him, “Sorry, it’s just interesting.” Wilbur chuckled, and it was so different to actually see him laugh rather than just hearing it, “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, darling.”

You flushed lightly, and Wilbur took immediate notice, leaning in close to your face. 

“Are you going shy on me, darling?” His hand gently cupped your chin, “Do you just find me that attractive?” Your cheeks flamed up, and as you stuttered out a response, Tommy groaned, smacking Wilbur’s shoulder.

“Take your flirting shit out of here, dickhead.”

Wilbur scoffed, sitting next to you instead, “Hey, I put up with your shit attempts at flirting with Molly for months, I’m allowed to have my fun.”

“I am not shit at flirting! And even if I was, you’re the one who taught me, so that would mean you’re also shit!” Tommy exclaimed, putting the Rubix cube down. 

“You never listened to my instructions!”

“Because they were stupid”

You rolled your eyes as they continued to bicker, standing and walking towards your room. You waved a hand nonchalantly, “I’m going to take a bath. You guys just keep… doing whatever is it you do.” “Want my help in there, darling?” You flushed, flipping him off behind your back, “Unless you’re bringing me wine and leaving right after, I do not need your help.” 

You walked into the bathroom and got a warm bubble bath ready quickly, getting into the water and relaxing as the heat soothed your sore muscles. You played music from your phone softly, closing your eyes and letting the water alleviate your troubles from the day.

After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door. You fixed the curtain to maintain your modesty, before humming out a soft, “Come in.”

Wilbur opened the door with a smug grin, a glass of wine in his hand. 

You laughed, “Jesus, I didn’t even think we had wine in the house.” “We do, it was just too high for you to reach.” He chuckled, walking over to hand you the glass. 

“Oh? And who put it up there then?” You took the glass, taking a sip.

“Hm, I wonder.” He chuckled, crouching down to be eye-level with you, “You feeling any better?”

You nodded softly, smiling, “Yeah. Just had a rough day, I guess.”

He sat down, nodding, “I figured. It took you longer to get home than usual, and you just seemed a bit down. I’m glad Tommy was able to make you laugh, even if the whole reveal thing wasn’t planned.”

You hummed, “It definitely was a shock. I do like being able to see you, even if I’m still just processing it. It’s easier to tell where you are.”

“Oh, I bet,” he laughed, “But sneaking up on you is half the fun.”

“For you,” you rolled your eyes, “I quite like being able to see my housemates. I’m almost offended, actually, that you hid such a pretty face from me for so long.”

It was an incredibly satisfying feeling to actually watch him get flustered, his cheeks turning pink while he looked away. 

He composed himself, clearing his throat, “Didn’t want to scare such a pretty person away is all. Especially such a kind one.”

You flushed, taking another sip of wine. “Well, I can definitely say I’m not scared.”

He smiled (a beautiful sight to see), reaching a hand up to gently play with your hair, “Good. For a moment there I thought you’d just bolt when you saw me.”

“Honestly,” you chuckled, leaning into his touch, “You guys having a form I can see is the least weird thing I’ve dealt with since I’ve moved in.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess that’s true. We’ve just… grown to be a bit wary of showing ourselves to people. Molly was the most recent one, actually, and that was because she snuck in without us noticing. The first time someone moved in, we didn’t think to hide ourselves, and that’s what led to all the rumors and everything.”

You nodded, “Shitty exploitative people or people running for the hills?”

“We’ve had both,” he sighed.

“How do you guys know about all the rumors and stuff though? Did Molly tell you?”

He shook his head, “We can’t leave the house most days, but there are a few exceptions. We can leave on Halloween, and the anniversary of our deaths. Or if we possess someone.”

“Wha- okay, you can not just say that like it’s a casual thing. You can possess people?”

He chuckled, looking coy, “Yeah. We don’t do it often, only if we really need to or if we’re given permission.”

You nodded, “That’s respectful, I guess. When would you need to?”

He shrugged, “We’ve done it to protect people. There was a kid living in here with the last family, and he nearly drowned, so I had to possess his father to save him. The only problem is that, usually when we do it, people move out right after. But if we can stop another person from dying here, we’ll jump at the opportunity.”

“That makes sense,” you hummed softly, “Must feel weird to get possessed.”

He hummed, “I’ve heard it is. Tommy’s possessed Molly before so they could go on like pseudo-dates. She said you’re still aware of everything, you just can’t move your body yourself. She and Tommy were able to talk in her head, though so it’s not as scary as you’d think, as long as you know it’s happening. There are some side effects for a short while afterwards though.”

“Like?”

“She said that she felt freezing cold for a while after. She had a few bruises as well, but that could’ve easily just been from Tommy remembering how to manuver an actual body. That’s another thing, if you do it for too long, you kind of forget how to move your own body, so she had to sit to keep herself from falling.”

You nodded, humming, “that’s not too bad.”

“Well, yeah. That’s with permission, though. Most of the people we’ve possessed without permission haven’t exactly stuck around long enough for us to ask how they feel afterwards.”

You leaned your head on the edge of the tub, going silent as you thought. “We could do that one day, if you want.”

“What?” He stopped his hand, eyebrows pinching together. 

“Yeah, like Molly and Tommy do. That way you can go outside a bit more and do stuff that you can’t do anymore.” 

He grinned softly, “Is this your way of asking me on a date?”

You groaned, and he immediately laughed at your reaction. “I’m trying to be nice, dumbass.”

“I know, I know. But man it is so much more fun to flirt with you when you can actually see me. You get flustered so much easier.” “Maybe I’m not used to seeing cute boys flirt with me.”

He frowned slightly, and it quickly dissolved into a grin, “Well, you’ll get used to it soon enough because I definitely don’t plan on stopping. Unless it makes you uncomfortable.”

You smiled gently, “It doesn’t. I would’ve asked you to stop a long time ago if it actually made me uncomfortable.”

“Good. Because I am going to be so much worse about it now that I can flirt physically with you.”

“Oh, god.”

“I’ll make it good for you. Don’t stress.”

You chuckled, taking another sip, “I’m not stressed, more concerned about how I’ll ever be able to deal with a cute guy flirting with me all the time.”

“Well, I’ll take good care of you, obviously.”

You smiled, biting your lip softly, “Thanks, Wilbur.” 

He smiled, running his hand through your hair once more. “Of course, darling. What do you want for dinner? I can start making it while you finish up here.”

You sighed softly, “I have no clue honestly.”

“So surprise you?”

You grinned softly, “Yeah. Just please don’t burn down the house. I like living here with you guys.”

“Alright, so don’t let Tommy into the kitchen, got it.”

You laughed, and he gave you that look again, the same one he was giving you when you saw his face for the first time. 

“I guess so.” You hummed softly. 

“Alright, well, I’ll go get started,” He stood, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your forehead gently before walking out. 

It took your brain a moment to catch up before you felt yourself blushing deeply once more. It was a new but definitely welcome sensation, the feeling of his lips on your forehead left a gentle chill. You bit down a smile, but even if you really tried, you wouldn’t have been able to hide the gentle grin. You took a final sip of your wine, setting the glass down and letting yourself sink into the water.

You got out of the bath and got dressed, taking your glass and walking out into the living room. You weren’t quite used to just being able to see them, almost feeling startled as you saw Tommy sitting on the couch playing on your old DS, and seeing Wilbur standing in the kitchen. 

You shook it off, walking to the kitchen and looking for the wine.

Wilbur looked over at you, smiling softly, “Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “How’s dinner coming along?”

“Good,” he smiled, walking over and wrapping his lanky arms around you while you poured yourself some more wine. You leaned into his grasp, smiling softly. 

“Yeah? House hasn’t burnt down, so that says something at least.”

He chuckled, wrapping you up tighter in his arms, “I still remember mostly what I’m doing. I used to cook for Tommy when our parents were working.”

“You haven’t spoken much about your parents.” You noted quietly. 

He sighed, leaning his head on you, “No. I haven’t. I try not to think about them too much.”

You nodded softly and didn’t ask further. Instead, you relaxed in his arms and drank your wine. He swayed a bit, and you chuckled, closing your eyes. 

“It’s still weird being able to see you.”

“Yeah? Like what you see.”

You chuckled, flushing, “Maybe. Is there a problem if I do?”

“The opposite, actually, darling. I think it’s absolutely lovely. But not as lovely as you.”

“Wilbur?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Something is very much burning on the stove.”

He quickly pulled away, rushing to the pot on the stove and taking it off the heat. 

“Oops,” he grinned at you sheepishly, “Sorry, love. You’re just so distracting.”

You flushed and rolled your eyes, “Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted you in the kitchen either.”

He scoffed, “I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. This was simply a method of cooking, I’m enfusing the food with smoky flavor.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit, “You’re such a dork.”

When you looked back at him, he was giving you the biggest grin. He turned, grinning down at the counter as he worked on plating the food for you. He handed you the plate, gently kissing your head.

“I kept the burnt parts out of it.”

You blushed, smiling, “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course, darling.” 

You started eating, and he watched you as you did, waiting for your reaction.

“Holy shit, Wilbur, this is fantastic.”

He threw his arms up, cheering, “Yes! Oh, I’m so glad you like it. It’s been a long time since I cooked.”

“It’s amazing, seriously, thank you.”

He smiled, wrapping his arms around you again, “It’s actually our mom’s recipe. She was the best cook, taught me everything I know.”

“Well, she taught you well.” You ate more, and Wilbur was absolutely beaming behind you.

The rest of the night was quite calm, just sitting with Tommy and Wilbur, watching videos and stuff. You got tired quite quickly, so the three of you retired to bed, Wilbur following you. You both got comfortable quickly, your head resting on his chest. His hand gently trailed up and down your back, and the sensation used to make you shiver, but now it just felt comforting. In the silence, you began thinking. 

“Wilbur?” You spoke softly.

“Hm?”

“You’re very touchy,” you stated plainly.

He chuckled, “That’s true.”

“Why?”

He was quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I like the feeling. Reminds me of being alive, I guess.”

“How so?” You asked quietly.

“Well,” he took one hand, gently placing it on your cheek, “it warms me slightly, same way it cools you. So it becomes grounding, after a while. Especially when I start to comprehend the reality of the fact that I am a ghost, I can’t leave, and I don’t know if I’ll be like this forever or if one day I’ll just suddenly stop existing. It’s scary sometimes to think about the fact that, at one point, I was living, and I got killed, and now I am undead, and I don’t know why. I don’t know if one day, just by saying something, I’ll fade. You weren’t wrong when you said ghosts are probably scared of their own situation because we are. There’s no rulebook to being a ghost, and I remember, the first few years, I was just so aware of my own… mortality, if you can even call it that. And it was terrifying. Tommy and I mostly stayed in the attic at all times because we didn’t know if we’d fully move on just by walking out the door. So, when I touch you, it helps pull me out of that fear. Because I remember that being alive was just as terrifying because there is no rulebook to living either. And it’s grounding. If I could do it once before, I can do it again. You remind me of being alive. Because you’re the first person to look at me, even when you couldn’t see me, and have empathy before anything else. So touching you and being around you, it makes me feel something other than the usual dread and sadness, and I will cling to that as much as I can while I still have time with you.”

You leaned into his touch, shifting a bit to wrap an arm around him. You didn’t really have a response. It was the most vulnerable he’d ever been. 

You cuddled your head further into his chest, nodding softly, “If you ever need it, you know, i’m here for you. I don’t know much about ghosts or living, and I’d never given the things much thought before moving in here. But anything that can help you, I’m willing to help you with. Even if it means having you attached at my hip all day. You know better than anyone just how fragile life is. I could die tomorrow. So, we need to make the most out of what we have, I guess.”

He smiled, kissing the top of your head gently, “That’s all we can do. It’s what made life worth living, and it’s what makes being stuck like this worth it too. Just appreciating every moment, even if all we have is your living and my ghostly-ness.” He chuckled softly, and you did too.

You gently moved his hand from your cheek, solely so you could hold it. “Goodnight, Wilbur.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

You and Wilbur got closer seamlessly. You don’t know what made it so easy to talk with him or just be around him. Overtime, his flirting got bolder, but so did yours. You’d be lying to yourself if you were to say that you weren’t attracted to him. You absolutely were. You were just conflicted.

You didn’t know how human-ghost relationships worked. You knew they happened, obviously, Molly and Tommy were clear proof of it. But you didn’t really know how they worked. One person was dead, firstly, but there was also the concept that their spirit had a high chance of outliving you. You would grow older, but Wilbur would always be twenty-six. Unless you died, of course, but that would be a pretty major commitment to make, and it honestly made your head hurt to think about. Plus, that’s if Wilbur even would be okay with that which, based on the way he spoke about being dead, he wouldn’t be. The morals and mortality honestly gave you a headache. So you talked to the only other person who would possibly understand.

When Molly walked in that morning, you were quick to stop her from walking up to where Tommy would be.

“Molly! Can I talk to you for a moment?” “Uh, yeah, sure.”

You carefully pulled her into the backyard, sitting down on the concrete porch.

“I… have a few questions.” You spoke softly in case of any peeping ears.

“Oh?” She sat down next to you, “What about?”

You sighed, “You and Tommy’s relationship. How does it work?”

She chuckled, “What do you mean?”

“I just… I’ve been thinking a lot about like how a ghost-human relationship could work, and I just feel overwhelmed. I like Wilbur,” you admitted softly, blush rising to your cheeks, “But I keep thinking about how a relationship between me and him would work since it’s… unconventional.”

“Well, I’ve found your problem already,” she gave you a kind smile, “You think too much. With Tommy, we don’t think about it. We’re both aware of how weird it is, and how it probably won’t last forever, but we don’t mind. I mean, he and I have been dating for months, and I’ve never been able to tell anyone for obvious reasons. We just honestly don’t think about it. And maybe that’s not healthy, but it’s what’s right and what works for us right now. So that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, resting your head on your knee, “It doesn’t bother you? That you don’t know?”

“Honestly? No,” she shrugged, “It’s something about living in the moment, you know. Sometimes I think about it, but I know that there’s really nothing Tom and I can do anything about it. So, I just don’t think about it since I can’t find a solution.”

You nodded again, “Thanks, Molly.” She patted your shoulder, “Listen, if you want my advice, I say do it. Wilbur is absolutely head over heels for you. And even if he is blind to it, I can tell you are the same way about him. So, don’t think about it much, just do it. If it makes you both happy, then it’s worth it.”

You flushed, nodding, “I just have to figure out how. Thank you, Molly.”

“I have work off today, so I was probably going to let Tommy possess me so we can go for a walk, if you want some privacy,” she winked, standing and heading inside.

You sat there with nothing but the deep blush on your cheeks and the things she had told you. 

You were thankful for the later privacy, though, solely because you didn’t want Tommy there when you confessed. It was nerve-wracking enough without Tommy there to potentially make fun of you. 

After dinner, you and WIlbur were sitting on the couch like normal, but you couldn’t focus, too in your head about how to word everything perfectly and oh god, what if he says no. 

“Darling, are you okay?” Wilbur asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, biting your lip. You turned, facing him now, and gently taking his hand, “I want to… talk about something.”

“Oh?” he turned, holding your hand tightly, “What’s up?”

Fuck, you really should’ve practiced this before hand. “It’s just…” here goes nothing, “I like you, Wilbur. I’ve known for a bit now, I just didn’t really know what to say or if it would be good to even bring it up until I talked to Molly today, but, yeah. I like you. And, if you’ll take me, I’d- I’d like to be your partner.”

For the first time in your little speech, you looked up to him. And he, god, he looked ecstatic. He had a soft smile on his face, but you could see in his eyes just how overjoyed he was. 

“Darling, nothing would make me happier. I’d be a fool to not take you,” he squeezed your hand gently, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, and he brought a hand up, slowly guiding your lips together. The kiss was enchanting, and the sensation – a mix of cool and tingling – it reminded you of peppermint chapstick. You held onto his shoulder gently, kissing him back and putting just as much love into it as it gave you. 

You both pulled away quickly, solely due to the sound of the door opening. Both of your heads whipped towards the sound, watching as Molly-Tommy walked in, and after a moment, you watched Tommy’s spirit separate, and he carefully held onto Molly, so she wouldn’t fall. Once he looked over, both of you red-faced and looking like you were clearly caught, he raised his free arm up, cheering, “Holy shit! Wilbur finally got bitches!”

Your relationship with Wilbur was surprisingly easy. Not much actually changed between the two of you, aside from kissing and making out more. He slept in your bed more often, though he still had those nights when he would disappear to the attic. He also tended to be more generally affectionate rather than flirty, now that he knew it was okay to kiss you when he felt like it.

There was something not-house related that popped up recently though. You didn’t notice it for the first few days, but by the fourth day it was glaringly obvious. Every day that you would leave your house for work, you noticed a man, around mid-fourties, sitting on a bench across the street. He would follow your path to work, but he would never interact. It made you feel uneasy, though. You told a few of your coworkers, and they all agreed that it was weird, but you refrained from telling Wilbur and Tommy. You didn’t want any problems, you just mostly wanted to figure out why this guy kept watching you.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find out. On the second week of this occurring, he actually came up to you, holding a single flower out towards you.

When he spoke, it sounded as though he hadn’t spoken properly in about two years, and it sent a shiver down your spine, but none of his words were mean or harmful. 

“Hello. I’m sorry to bother you,” he handed you the flower, a red chrysanthemum, before continuing, “it’s just, well, I used to be friends with the boys who lived in that house. Not a lot of people move in there, so when I heard you did, I got a bit curious.”

You accepted the flower, somewhat shocked by the plainness of his statement, “Oh. I understand the curiosity, the house has quite a reputation. It’s a lovely place, though.”

He nodded, “I loved being in there. I’ve heard the reputation it has as well, but I wanted to ask, as the current owner, do you believe in any of it? I’m not quite sure I believe in these ghost stories.”

You chuckled softly. You had gotten used to lying about your ghostly boyfriend and roommates, “No, I don’t believe in any of it. However, if it keeps my payments low, I don’t mind.”

That brought a laugh out of him, and it eased your nerves a bit. “I get that. Sorry if I weirded you out at all, It’s just- not exactly easy to come up to people and ask if they believe in ghosts.”

“People do it all the time now, actually,” you hummed. It wasn’t uncommon, these days, for anyone who knew you lived there to ask those types of questions. “But you said you were friends with the boys?”

He nodded, “Yes. We were good friends for a long time. It was tragic what happened to them, but I am glad to hear that you haven’t had any problems. I always worried that their souls may not have been able to move on.”

You gave a soft smile, “Yeah, I worried the same when I moved in. I imagine it’d be quite scary to exist like that. But, no issues, really.”

“That’s good, then. The boys were so kind, too. William and Thomas, their names were.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, as if you didn’t know.

For the next week, every day, that man would walk with you to work, telling stories about the boys, and every day, he would bring you a red chrysanthemum. It was nice to hear about the boys when they were alive, even if it was a bit chilling to think about how they lived before knowing what would become of them.

One day, the man brought a whole bouquet of the red chrysanthemums, and you accepted them with a soft smile. As he told stories, he spoke in a bit of a far-away tone.

“I’ve always wanted to go back in, actually. To see where we all used to goof off. I think it would be a nice way to get closure, after all that’s happened. The guy who killed them, he was smart, really smart, but he never got caught, so their story never got closure. I never got closure. I’m not sure, I’ve just always thought that, just walking around and seeing their rooms, it would help.”

That brought a thought to your brain. This guy used to be their friend, and Wilbur said that they always wondered what happened to all the people who they never saw anymore. It would be a really nice surprise for them!

“Well, if you’d like, once I get off of work, I can let you in, let you walk around a bit?”

He grinned, “Really? Oh, that would be lovely. You get home around six usually, yes?”

You nodded softly, “Yeah.”

“Perfect! Oh, thank you so much, it would truly be the best thing to be able to see in there again. You don’t know how much you’ve truly done for me.”

When you got home, he was waiting at your front porch. You smiled softly at him, waving as you went to unlock the door. You opened the door slowly, to give the boys time to go invisible when they realized there was someone in the house.

“You can just take a seat on the couch, alright? I’m going to put my stuff away and then I’ll walk the place with you.”

He nodded, taking a seat and looking around. You walked to your room to put your bag away, but the moment you closed the door, you were met with the two ghosts, startling you backwards.

“Jesus, you guys scared me,” you whispered.

“What the fuck is going on right now?” Tommy whispered harshly.

Wilbur just looked angry, the silent type of angry that honestly put fear in you as well.

“What are you talking about? Him?”

“Of fucking course, we’re talking about him! Why is he here?” It was weird to hear Tommy sounding so quiet and panicked.

“He said he used to be your friend. I wanted to surprise you guys,” you smiled a bit, not yet understanding why they both looked so upset and fearful and angry.

“That dickhead was not our friend.” “What? Tommy, what are you on about?”

“Love, that’s the man who murdered us.” Wilbur spoke for the first time, anger clear in his voice.

You felt a chill go down your spine, straightening, “What?”

“The bastard pretended to be our friend, talking to us, bringing us shit like gifts and flowers,” you felt your entire body go cold as Tommy continued, “All so he could fucking murder us.”

“He’s been giving me flowers every day.” You noted simply, and the two of them both lost all the fear in their expressions, now just looking purely angry and protective. They shared a look before looking back at you. Wilbur placed a hand on your shoulder, gently despite the ferocity in his expression.

“Go back out there before he gets suspicious, but if he wants to go to the attic, do not walk in first, let him go first. You hear me?”

You nodded quickly, and Wilbur pulled you forward, kissing you passionately, “I won’t let him fucking touch you,” he growled out softly.

You kissed him back, slowly pulling out from Wilbur’s grasp and heading back out into the living room, a bit more stiff than before.

“You ready to look around?” You asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. He nodded, standing up. You and him walked upstairs to the boys’s rooms, and the entire time you could feel Wilbur and Tommy’s presence behind you.

You went to both of the boy’s old rooms, and he seemed completely normal, talking about all the times he’d seen the boys in here. After Wilbur’s room, he spoke up properly.

“Can we see the attic? The boys and I used to hang out there at night.”

You gulped softly and nodded, “Do you remember where it is?”

He smiled and nodded, “of course! I remember sneaking up there with them all the time.”

“Alright, lead the way then.” You gestured for him to lead the way, but he shook his head.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t, it’s your house after all.”

“No, really, I insist.”

He tilted his head, smiling, and this time it brought you waves of unease, “Is there something wrong?”

Fuck. There were two ways this could go. You could say yes, and he could just kill you right here. Or you could say no and deal with Wilbur’s anger later. 

You’d rather deal with Wilbur’s anger later.

“...No. Nothing’s wrong, um, follow me, I guess.” You started walking upstairs to the attic, and you practically hear Wilbur’s curses in your ear. 

You opened the door and walked in, and the man walked in behind you. Before either of you had a chance to react, the door slammed shut and locked, and you were pulled into the chair on the otherside of the room.

You watched Wilbur reappear, standing over you protectively. Tommy reappeared after, standing by the door. The man looked around wildly at the two of the them, stuttering.

“You- you said they weren’t real!” He looked at you angrily, and he started advancing towards you. 

Wilbur grabbed your hands, placing them on top of your eyes. “Do not open your eyes.” He ordered, and all you could do was hear for a few minutes as the sound of strange whispers filled the room. There was light coming from the center of the room that you could vaguely make out from behind your hands, and soon, there was the sound of the man screaming. The room felt heavy, as if every negative emotion you’d ever known was flowing into your body all at once.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help your curiosity as you peered between two fingers.

Tommy and Wilbur stood over the man as he sank into what appeared to be a portal into the floor. That wasn’t what really caught your attention, though. 

What caught your attention was Tommy and Wilbur’s appearances. This must’ve been the true form they mentioned, you realized. They looked nearly decrepit, Tommy’s stomach covered in blood, and his neck showing a long open wound. Wilbur wasn’t much better, a clear stab wound going straight through his chest. If you looked hard enough, you could see through it. His face had a long scratch going down the side, hitting through his eye. There was another stab wound on him, a clear chunk taken out of his arm. Both of their eyes were glowing, Wilbur’s a haunting cold blue, and Tommy’s a deep red. 

You gasped softly and quickly covered your eyes in full again.  No wonder they didn’t want you to see it. It was entirely haunting to see.

A few minutes later, Wilbur walked over and pulled your hands off of your eyes. The light, the portal, and the man were all gone. You had started crying at some point after seeing them like that, and Wilbur quickly pulled you into his arms. 

“It’s okay, he’s gone.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back soothingly. You sobbed against him, gently moving a hand to the center of his chest to make sure the wound wasn’t there anymore even if you’d already seen him looking normal.

He seemed to realize what you were doing pretty quickly, but he never let go of you or seemed upset in the slightest, “You saw, didn’t you?”

You nodded, another wave of sobs wracking your body.

He sighed softly, just holding you closer, “I’m sorry, darling. I never wanted you to see that. I’m so so sorry,” he whispered.

You didn’t respond, just sobbing against him and clinging onto him desperately. 

He helped you calm down, and after you got past the tears from processing their true forms, you had to come to terms with the stark reality that you would have absolutely been killed, the same way the boys had, if they weren’t there for you.

The house was mostly quiet the rest of the night, though Wilbur and Tommy were both clearly filled with a sense of relief. 

You asked Wilbur about it later as you rested on his chest in bed. “Are you and Tommy happy he’s gone?”

He hummed, looking down at you, “He’s not gone, per se. Just in his own personal hell. It felt good, but, if you’re wondering why we’re both relieved, that’s not why.”

He got better at reading you as you two grew closer, and this was clear evidence of it, “Then why?”

“We didn’t know if that would be it for us,” he sighed softly, “There’s always been this idea that ghosts stick around due to unfinished business. We don’t know if that’s true or not, but we always assumed, if it was, it was because he was still here. So, there was a chance that when we got rid of him, we both would’ve just ceased to exist, or moved on to the afterlife, whatever. We’re relieved that didn’t happen. Neither of us could stand leaving you and Molly like that, with no clue what happened to us.”

You nodded softly, “But, wouldn’t it have been nice? To move on?” 

“No,” he almost laughed, “Not without you.”

You held onto him tighter, nodding softly. “He would’ve killed me, if you two weren’t here.” You whispered.

He nodded, but he didn’t speak. 

“If we let him, maybe I would’ve been here with you guys forever, like you are now.”

He looked at you, horrified, “Darling, don’t start with that. There’s absolutely no way we could’ve been certain of that, and I don’t want this for you. I want you to live a full life, and I don’t even want to know what would’ve happened if he killed you and your spirit didn’t stay. It would’ve been devastating for both of us, Tommy too. So, please, don’t start with that. I’m glad you are alive.”

You nodded softly, and his arms tightened around you, “I owe you both my life regardless.” He chuckled lightly, leaning down and kissing you gently, “Darling, the only thing you owe us is your happiness. All I want is for you to be happy. Nothing else matters to me anymore.”

You smiled, kissing him back lovingly. 

“I love you, Wilbur.”

He smiled, eyes glowing the same blue, but lighter this time, as you exchanged your first ‘I love you’s. “I love you too, darling.”

[tigertales9]

QB1 - Part 2

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This is part 2 of QB1

A/N: I got a little long-winded with this follow-up so I'm breaking it into 2 parts. I should have part 3 up within the next few days.

Edit: Nevermind! 😋 (I removed a link to a slightly porny illustration).

Part 3 is now up : QB1 - Part 3

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

February 18, 2023

You cram a few more shirts in a moving box and tape it closed, rolling your eyes as your phone chirps, thinking it's your mom again. You grab your phone, your eyes going wide when you see who the text is from.

Joe: Hey. You okay?

Your entire body reacts, your pulse jumping and your breaths coming hard and fast as you contemplate the text from Joe. It had been a week since y'all got together in Phoenix, and you were starting to think you'd never hear from him again. Starting to think you were just an easy lay for him and nothing more. I mean, sure, you could've called him but that would've seemed desperate, right?

Joe: Call me?

The question mark makes you question yourself. Does he really want me to call, you wonder, shaking your head to clear it. "Just do it," you mumble, your hands shaking a little as you hit his number.

"Hey," he answers quickly. "How are you?"

"I'm … okay. I broke up with QB2. I'm packing my shit and moving back home so …"

"Wow, really? That's great. I … ummm … do you need any help?"

"No thanks. I don't have much here except some clothes and shoes. I've already mailed a few boxes home; I just have a few more to go."

"What's your plan?"

You take a deep breath before answering. "I'm gonna move back home to my podunk hometown -- my parents are more than happy to take me back in luckily -- and I'm gonna finish my bachelor's degree. I can easily finish up in the fall semester. After that I have no fucking idea." You chew your lip as the silence stretches out before Joe speaks.

"That's great. You're making the right choice."

"Thanks."

"Listen … sounds like you'll have the spring and summer off … so … why don't you come visit me?"

"I'm gonna be getting a part-time job."

"Okay. Maybe we can work around that? I'd love to see you."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," you mutter.

"Why not?"

"I'm just …" You heave a sigh. "I don't know, Joe. I'm a little afraid of how I feel about you."

"How do you feel about me?" he asks.

"I can't stop thinking about you, and …"

"Good," he interrupts. "I feel the same way. Come visit me."

Nine days later -- after barely taking any time to unpack your boxes in your old childhood bedroom -- you're jetting toward Cincinnati, sitting in first class at Joe's insistence, sipping Champagne and wondering how your life has taken such a drastic turn. "Don't question it," you mumble, killing the rest of the bubbly as the plane starts its descent into CVG.

Thirty minutes later you're striding through the concourse then out into the cool, blustery day, quickly sliding into Joe's car as he stashes your wheelie bag in his back seat.

"Think anybody recognized you?" you ask, glancing at him as he pulls into traffic; he's wearing gray sweatpants, a light blue sweatshirt, backwards cap & sunglasses. Pretty much looking like sex-on-legs, as usual.

He flashes you a cocky grin, resting a big hand on your thigh before answering. "Maybe," he shrugs, squeezing your thigh in a way that sets off butterflies in your stomach.

"Well, hopefully nobody recognized me," you mutter.

"You ashamed to be seen with me?" Joe asks.

"No … it's just …"

"You're worried dickhead is gonna find out?"

"Yeah," you admit. "I just don't want him making trouble for you."

"He won't do shit to me," Joe snorts. "Or you," he continues, his tone turning icy.

"It's just … he's suspicious that I left him a week after you 'got me safely back to the hotel' in Phoenix. I lied and told him nothing happened between us. I told him I'd been thinking about leaving him for a long time, which is true, but I know he thinks you had a hand in it."

"Oh, I def had a hand in it." He shoots you a glance, his lips curling up in a naughty grin. "A hand, a tongue, a cock …"

"Joe!" you squeal, swatting his arm playfully while he graces you with a dirty laugh, the lusty sound sending a sizzle of heat down your spine.

"Seriously though," Joe clears his throat. "Don't worry about him, okay?"

"Okay," you agree timidly.

The sun disappears behind a large cloud and Joe slides his sunglasses off, stowing them in the center console before returning his hand to your thigh, nestling it against your crotch. "You look gorgeous," he purrs, giving you a quick up and down look before returning his gaze to the highway.

"Thanks," you whisper, swallowing hard and looking down at your outfit; you're wearing black leggings, a slinky black turtleneck (no bra), a plum colored mini trench and black knee high boots with just enough heel to make your legs and ass look amazing. Your gaze focuses on Joe's hand on your thigh as your mind wanders:

For the last several days leading up to this visit, y'all had spent a few hours a day on the phone, talking about everything from movies to music to books to food, among many other topics, happy to realize your tastes lined up very nicely. Y'all had also had a very adult conversation where you told him you got an IUD and a full STI panel, eventually exchanging info. to set the stage for unprotected sex.

You bite your lip and give a quick glance in his direction, your pulse reacting when he turns his head and gives you a naughty wink. You feel your heartbeat throbbing in your throat, in your core, the thought of having his big cock inside you with no barriers making you a little dizzy with anticipation.

You try to act somewhat normal as he pulls into his garage and hops out of the car, quickly grabbing your bag and ushering you into the house, his big hand on the small of your back feeling like an unspoken promise.

"This is really nice," you say, taking in his modern decor, mostly black, gray and white. Not a lot of frills but very attractive. Kind of like the man himself.

"Thanks," he murmurs, his gaze raking over you slowly as he walks toward you. Sex literally radiates off of this man, you think to yourself as you unbutton your mini trench and shrug it off, biting your lip as Joe's gaze immediately drops to your hard nipples poking through your slinky shirt; you slowly turn and walk toward the sofa, putting a little extra swish in your hips knowing his gaze will be drawn to your ass showcased in your tight leggings. You come to a halt just behind the black leather sofa, draping your coat over the back and smiling when you feel Joe behind you.

"I told myself I needed to have a little self-control and not pounce on you the second I got you alone, but you're making it really hard, baby girl," he groans, pushing your hair aside to press a hot kiss against the back of your neck.

"How hard?" you whisper, arching your back just enough to press your ass against his crotch, a sizzle of arousal pulsing through you as you feel his erection against your plump cheeks. His reaction ignites something deep inside you, and you bite your lip as you shamelessly grind against him, the noises he makes causing all of your pleasure points to throb. As if reading your mind, he reaches a hand around and cups your crotch, nestling a finger into your spandex-covered slit while grinding the heel of his hand against your clit.

"I don't think we're gonna make it to the bedroom," he states, sucking the sensitive skin just below your ear while using his free hand to pinch one of your nipples. "Is that okay with you?"

"Yes, sir," you whimper, your head spinning a bit at how fast he turns you around to face him; he quickly pushes your leggings and panties down to your knees, stopping when he encounters your tall boots.

"Good enough for now," he mutters, dropping to his knees while slowly licking his lips. The way he looks in that backwards cap has already got you halfway there before his talented tongue and fingers get to work. "Fuck," you breathe, bracing yourself against the top of the sofa as he licks a long stripe up your slit, using his thumbs to spread you open as he pumps his tongue in and out. He teases you for a bit before sliding a finger deep inside. "So tight," he murmurs as he adds a second finger, fluttering his tongue over your clit before sucking it into his mouth, his icy-hot gaze locked on yours as you start to lose control.

"I'm close," you whine, leaning more of your weight against the sofa as your legs start to tremble. He expertly curls his fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot while devouring your clit in a way that draws a throaty moan from your lips, your entire body convulsing as your climax hits.

After several heartbeats, you eventually draw enough air to speak. "My God," you pant, shaking your head in awe. "You are really fucking good at that."

"Thanks," he purrs. "I've been fantasizing about it since Phoenix.

"Me too," you whisper, biting your lip at the feral look in his eyes.

When your core finally stops squeezing his fingers, he slides them out and lifts them to his mouth, sucking them clean. "I've been fantasizing about something else too," he states, unzipping your boots and pulling them off before sliding off your leggings, panties and socks. He stands up and pulls his hat and sweatshirt off, a fringe of tousled curls tumbling onto his forehead as he steps forward and grabs you around the waist; you gasp as he easily picks you up and sets you on the back of the oversized sofa, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his mouth captures yours.

Heat rushes through you as his tongue slides between your lips; you suck it into your mouth, moaning at the taste of your own arousal. "You taste so fucking good, don't you?" he growls, swirling his hot tongue around yours as you hum your approval, every nerve in your body throbbing at the lust in his tone.

"Hold on tight to me for a second," he says, waiting on you to grab his shoulders before releasing his hold on you, quickly shoving his sweatpants and underwear down to mid-thigh before wrapping one arm around you again.

"Not sure I can balance up here," you whisper, feeling like you're one false move away from a Humpty Dumpty moment, but all coherent thoughts vanish as he slides the tip of his erection through your slick folds, gathering wetness before pushing just inside.

"You don't need to balance; I've got you." He slowly inches his hard length inside you, his eyelids fluttering closed at the delicious friction. "Feel so good, baby," he groans, "so hot and wet for me."

You know exactly what he's thinking because you're thinking it too -- it's the first time he's fucked you raw, and the reality of the sensation is even better than the fantasy; he's thicker and longer than QB2 with prominent veins that tickle your walls with each thrust.

You gasp as he drops his mouth down onto a hard nipple, licking and sucking through the slinky fabric of your shirt. "Lose your shirt for me," he orders, immediately latching onto a bare nipple when you do his bidding. He moves back and forth between your sensitive peaks, driving you crazy with his lips and tongue while taking your breath away with slow, deep thrusts. QB2 would never do this, you think to yourself. Anything less than a D cup wasn't worth his attention according to him.

Joe switches his angle a bit and picks up his pace, rolling his hips forward with smooth, steady strokes, his eyes locked on the sensual display between your thighs. You're mesmerized by the look on his face as he watches his glistening cock slide in and out of your slick heat. You whimper at the intensity of the moment and his gaze immediately captures yours. "I'm close," he groans, thrusting harder while reaching a hand down to play with your clit. "Me too," you breathe, digging your fingers into his muscular arms, making a noise between a moan and a scream when he pinches your clit and buries his cock deep inside you. Your vision goes hazy as your climax hits; Joe gives a few more thrusts before following you over the edge, the hot spurts of his release making your walls clench harder before finally tapering off.

After a minute of mutual heavy breathing, you squirm a little and Joe lifts you off the sofa and sets you back on your feet, keeping his hands firmly on your waist as you smile up at him. "I hope you didn't hurt your back or pull a muscle holding me up like that. I'm not exactly skinny."

"You're luscious," he purrs. "Absolutely mouthwatering," he continues, yanking his undies and sweatpants up before quickly grabbing his sweatshirt to clean you up.

You give him a wry look as he tosses the sweatshirt back on the floor. "Well, at least the sofa was supporting some of my weight, so that's prob why it didn't seem so bad."

"Woman, you're crazy as hell if you think you weigh a lot." He gives you a devilish grin before grabbing you; you squeal as he picks you up bridal-style and lifts you up and down like he's doing bicep curls.

"Put me down before you hurt yourself," you giggle, laughing even harder when he turns and walks to the stairs, easily taking them two at a time while you squeeze your eyes closed and hold on tight. He strides into the master bedroom and eases you down onto the king-sized bed, stretching his long length out beside you. "Okay, I get it. You're strong as hell," you laugh. "I'll never question you again."

"Yes, I'm strong, but you don't weigh very much."

You grimace and break eye contact. "I've spent a lot of time being told I'm chunky with boobs that are too small for my body. It'll take a while to get over that."

"Do you ever wonder why he said those things?" Joe pushes up onto an elbow and looks down at you. "Like, if he really believed all of that shit then why didn't he just break up with you?" You shrug as he continues. "I'll tell you why. -- He said those things to destroy your self-esteem, so you wouldn't realize you're WAY too fucking good for him and leave his ass in the dust."

The earnestness in his expression makes you tear up as he forges ahead. "You're exquisitely beautiful, okay? Like, drop dead sexy. You're all I've been able to think about since that night in Phoenix." A tear rolls down your cheek and he quickly wipes it away. "Please don't shed any more tears over that asshole," he whispers, wiping another tear as it falls. "They're actually happy tears," you sigh, smiling when his eyebrows fly up. "Oh, well by all means keep crying," he states, laughing before pulling you into a tight hug.

You lie like that for several minutes until your stomach growls loudly. "Oops," you giggle, more than a little embarrassed. "I was kind of nervous this morning so I didn't eat much breakfast."

He hops off the bed. "I promised you a home-cooked dinner when you got here, and instead I ravished you the second you stepped through the door and then made you cry. Pretty shitty hosting on my part." You smile at the twinkle in his pretty eyes as he looks down at you. "I've thoroughly enjoyed your hosting so far, Mr. Burrow. Ten out of ten would def recommend."

"Glad to hear it," he winks. "Listen, I'm gonna run downstairs and grab your stuff and bring it up here, then I'll take a quick shower and go start dinner. You wanna just rest for a bit?"

"I think I'll take a bubble bath. I brought my fav bubbles. Then I'll help you with dinner."

"Absolutely not. You just relax in the tub."

Before you can protest, he's striding out the door. You ease off the bed and walk into the bathroom, smiling at your reflection in the large mirror. Well fucked, you think to yourself. That's how I look. You notice the master bath has a large jacuzzi tub and a separate large shower. "Fancy," you whisper, smiling when Joe breezes into the bathroom carrying your clothes, boots, wheelie bag and a large goblet of red wine. "Pinot noir," he says, swirling the glass before handing it to you. "Not too dry, not too sweet. That's what you like, right?"

"Yes, sir," you say, taking a hearty swig while maintaining eye contact. "Mmmm," you moan, sucking your full bottom lip before giving him a faux-innocent smile.

He raises an eyebrow before leaning down to press his lips against your ear. "I intend to fuck you all night, but I'm gonna feed you dinner first." He nips your earlobe just enough to make you gasp. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Yes, sir," you repeat, a little more breathless than before.

"Good," he states, squeezing your ass as he walks to the tub and turns on the faucet. "Check the temp real quick then grab your bubbles," he orders, stopping in his tracks when he notices the look on your face. "Am I being too bossy?"

"No," you murmur, taking another sip of wine. "You're taking charge. I like it."

He gives you a sultry smile. "Glad to hear it." He turns the shower on to heat up, quickly stripping his sweatpants and undies off before stepping in. You grab your bubbles and pour some under the running faucet, surreptitiously glancing at Joe as he lathers up. Thank God for clear shower enclosures, you think to yourself, turning the tub faucet off before easing into the frothy, fragrant bath.

You watch through half-mast eyelids as Joe hops out of the shower and grabs a towel, his muscles flexing as he quickly dries off. His body is a fucking work of art, you think to yourself, holding your breath as he approaches you in all of his naked glory.

"You want the jacuzzi jets on?" he asks, looming over you in a way that puts his impressive goods on display. "Yeah," you breathe, giggling when he hits the button to fire up the jacuzzi. "That tickles," you squeak, shifting your body until you hit a good position. "Ohhhh, yeah that's nice," you moan, smiling when Joe leans down to give you a kiss.

"Later on we're gonna have a lot of fun in this tub," he promises, giving you another quick kiss before pulling on a pair of slinky black track pants -- no undies -- and a purple long-sleeve tee. "Just relax for now. I'm gonna go fire up the grill," he says, giving you a wink before striding out the door.

He pops back in a few minutes later with a small bowl. "Roasted cashews," he says, setting them on the edge of the tub. "Thanks. My favs," you smile, immediately popping one in your mouth. "I know," he grins, looking super proud of himself before breezing back out of the bathroom.

"That man is better than therapy," you whisper to yourself, tossing a few nuts in your mouth as you sink farther down in the frothy bubbles.

About thirty minutes later you walk downstairs, feeling relaxed and refreshed in a pair of slinky black lounge pants with matching long-sleeve top (no bra).

Joe gives you a smile as he walks in from the back patio. "The steaks need a few more minutes. They're kind of thick," he continues, quickly washing and drying his hands.

"Good, I prefer thick meat," you purr, giving a pointed look at his crotch before recapturing his gaze. His mouth drops open a little before he takes two long strides and leans down for a kiss. "Hold that thought," he whispers against your wine-red lips. "I might burn the steaks if you keep giving me dirty thoughts."

"Sorry," you giggle, shaking your head at your OTT antics. "Something about you makes me feel like a rabid sex kitten, but I'll try and tone it down until after dinner."

"I love your rabid sex kitten ways," he laughs, opening the fridge to pull out a bag of salad. "I need to toss the salad real quick before I bring the steaks in."

"Let me toss your salad," you tease, giving him a filthy wink and sucking your lip in a fully obscene way.

His mouth drops open as you cackle with laughter. "Sorry!" you chortle. "I promise I'll behave."

"Just until after dinner, right?"

"Yeah," you agree, taking a deep breath before finishing off your goblet of wine. "I've only had one glass of wine and I'm acting up," you sigh, grinning when he grabs the bottle of Pinot and pours you another goblet full, giving you a wink before heading outside to grab the steaks off the grill.

Several minutes later you're sitting at the dining table while Joe serves the food. "Grilled steaks, loaded baked potatoes, Caesar salad and garlic bread."

You smile at him as he rattles off the menu. "All of my favs," you say, moaning in delight as you chew a bite of steak. "This is the best steak I've ever had. My dad is gonna be so jealous when he finds out you grill a better steak than him."

"Might wanna keep that to yourself," he laughs, taking a sip of wine before continuing. "Tell me about your parents."

Y'all spend the next couple of hours exchanging stories about your parents and your hometowns, eventually moving into the living room to sit on the sofa in front of the fire Joe built in the fireplace. You take a sip of wine and -- to your horror -- accidentally blurt out a thought that flashes into your mind. "QB2 looked down his nose at my parents. He thought he was so much better than them since he has a proper university degree and they don't."

"Well, he's a pretentious prick so who cares what he thinks?" Joe snorts, throwing another log on the fire before rejoining you on the sofa.

"Sorry I mentioned him," you mutter, your eyes going wide when Joe leans forward and gives you a quick kiss. "Don't apologize," he breathes against your lips, giving you another kiss before leaning back. "It's gonna take time for you to process that shitshow of a relationship. It's best to just lay it all out there so we can work through it together."

"You're too good to be true. QB2 got jealous as hell anytime I mentioned another man, no matter how innocently."

"Small dick energy," Joe quips, giving you a knowing smile. "Now … really tell me about your parents. The truth, not the glossy version you've curated for pretentious small dick pricks." He raises an eyebrow. "That kinda sounds like the title of a dirty Dr. Seuss book."

You laugh as Joe pours a bit more wine in your glass before pouring the rest of the ruby-red liquid into his goblet. "Well … my dad went to trade school to be a mechanic; he can fix literally anything -- cars, trucks, lawnmowers, washing machines, the space shuttle." Joe chuckles along with you as you continue. "My mom did a two year degree at community college, basically learning how to help my dad keep his books and do invoicing and stuff like that." You take a sip of wine and stare into the fire. "They've made a good life for themselves, nothing fancy but they own their house and cars outright, have a nice amount saved up for retirement and don't have any credit card debt." You shrug. "Pretty much the American dream in this economy."

"Damn right," Joe agrees. "They sound amazing."

"They are." You heave a sigh before continuing. "Being an only child I felt a lot of pressure, mostly self-inflicted, to be perfect and do things the way they wanted." You shrug. "They both really wanted me to go to university. They started a fund before I was even born, so by the time I graduated high school I didn't have to take out loans or rely on scholarships." You blink back tears as you continue. "And I really loved university; I was really good at it, too, knocking on a 4.0 when QB2 convinced me to drop out. They did all of that for me and I basically spit in their face by dropping out a semester short of getting my degree."

"Listen," Joe states, setting both of your wine glasses on the coffee table before scooting closer to you. "Think of it like this … you sat on the sideline for a couple of years, but BOOM, coach just called your number and you're back on the field like you never missed a beat. You just gotta get back in there and handle business."

"We talking about football or university?" you chuckle.

"Both. I know what it feels like to sit on the sideline for a few years. I got a second chance and I never looked back. You can do the same."

He pulls you into a tight hug as you sniff back tears. "When this whole NFL quarterback thing ends, you should be a coach or a motivational speaker," you sigh. "You're really good at it."

"Thanks," he murmurs, laying you back on the sofa while kissing a hot trail up your sensitive neck. "Let me show you what else I'm really good at."

[heyidkyay]

Blueberry Muffin |

Okay, haven't posted anything much like this before but I've been sick, bored out of my mind, and have recently gotten reacquainted with my love for The 1975. So here's a cringy and crappy short fic for all my Matty Healy fans:) Just a forewarning, this hasn't been edited.

Summary: London, its many strangers, and a whole lot of guessing..?

Mentions: anxiety, food

--

Fuck.

Fuck-fuck-fucking-fuck.

The grit of my teeth had long since begun to hurt my jaw as I ground them together, but I paid it no mind and just continued to aimlessly tap away at my upper thigh. Questioning, once again, why I had forced myself into another one of these situations. Fucking London.

It wasn’t that I was some sort of recluse or anything like that, promise. It’s just that somedays my anxiety grew so intense it made me want to hide away from everything and anything. Even myself. 

But I’d had a somewhat decent nights sleep and woke up feeling alright, so I’d decided to venture out into the city to pick up some things I’d been putting off for a while now. December had come and gone, Christmas a bleary haze, and now that the January sales had finally died down, I figured that things might not be as hectic as they typically were so that I could just pop in and out. 

I really should’ve known better. 

London, even on the slowest of all days, was nothing if not polluted by people. And if there was one thing you could truly rely on, was that not a single one of them gave a shit about you. No, there was none of that Northern politeness here down south. And Central was the worst for it.

Still, it was home, and most days I liked the feeling of being nearly invisible. Because the city was also so incredibly easy to lose yourself in, you could blend seamlessly into the masses and nobody would be none the wiser. Yeah, there was a bump to the shoulder here, and the beep of an oncoming cab there. But no one remembered your face, or even the unhelpful apology that usually followed without a second glance.

Albeit saying that, here I was, stood on some random street corner, somewhere between Carnaby and Soho, outside a cafe or some other, struggling to resemble the simple act of appearing calm.

I was beyond ready to just head home, but knowing the underground like I did and the thought of having to sit within such a close proximity to a hundred other commuters was not something I felt like would help very much at this moment. So I’d ultimately decided to just head over to the nearest coffee shop and grab myself a brew. But yet, I was still stood here, agonising over the fact that to do exactly that, I would ultimately have to go inside and interact with even more people.

It seemed that my anxiety was winning the war this time around, because I just could not see myself doing it. So instead, I kept loitering, letting my eyes roam over the rest of the people that passed by me blissfully unaware. 

As mad as London was, it was also one of the best places to people-watch, there were thousands of people constantly bustling there way around and each of them wore some part of their story on their person. Whether it was a wine stained blouse, an exaggerated yawn, or a neon coloured mohawk peaking ten inches above an otherwise balding head.

So I found myself just idly watching as I took a moment to breathe, propping myself up against the nearest brick wall.

There were a bunch of school lads pissing about a little down the way, shoving and laughing amongst themselves whilst a couple of older women shook their heads in passing. I rolled my eyes and transferred my attention. I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath at the grinning toddler who then blew past, a struggling parent staggering behind.

The wind today seemed gentle, although a tad bit cold, so I dragged the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands in an attempt to warm them slightly. It was then that a larger group caught my gaze. They had congregated just outside the tiny cafe I was stood beside, six or seven girls around my age, perhaps a little bit younger, all appeared to be clawing for the attention of some bloke they’d crowded around. I surveyed them a little in amusement- Oh, what most men would give, I thought with a soft snort.

I couldn’t see much of him, the man, just the top of his head really. A mass of dark curls. He appeared to be taking the sudden devotion in his stride though, talking back and forth animately, nodding along with enough enthusiasm that his hair sort of followed in a bounce of its own.

Another breeze hit then and as I shivered I wished that I’d remembered to grab my scarf on the way out this morning instead of just my headphones- which, were now almost completely dead. I was helplessly trying to save the last of their battery for the journey home, hoping they’d prove to be a welcomed distraction.

But when I glanced back up, I found that the group had dispersed somewhat. The girls were now wandering further away, all of them adorning huge smiles as their excited eyes kept trailing back over their shoulders. The guy though, had seemed to sort of vanish. Probably having slipped back into the oncoming traffic of people, I supposed. It was then that I silently scolded myself when I noticed I’d been rubbing the back of my thumb over my teeth again. It was an anxious tick of sorts, one that sometimes left my hands raw, and something my mum wholeheartedly hated. 

I smiled slightly at the reminder of her, she’d have started swatting as soon as I’d started up. 

Should probably give her a call later, now that I thought about it, maybe on the way home if I still felt like crap. That woman was godawful when it came to talking, could chat about absolutely anything at the best of times, but always knew how to best cheer me up.

“You alright?” Came a sudden voice, startling me from my tangent of thoughts.

I snapped my head over to where a man now stood about a foot away, leaning casually against the same wall, with a cigarette hanging from his lower lip. He seemed ready to light it from the way he was cradling a lighter just by his chin, but had paused once he’d taken note of my presence.

“Uh,” I stumbled, slightly taken aback. I’d not even realised he’d been stood there, nor was I prepared for an actual conversation. “Yeah, you?” I forced out on instinct, confused by the sudden exchange but not bewildered enough to not give that typical greeting its usual half-arsed reply.

The guy hummed as he lit his cigarette, taking a quick drag before he let it hang loosely between his fingertips. My brow furrowed, certain that this was the same bloke I’d just seen, the one who’d suddenly disappeared from his swarm of adoring fans.

“It’s just,” The man begun again, blowing remnants of smoke out the side of his mouth. “You seem a little jumpy, like you’re waiting for something to happen. Wanted to know what I was getting myself into, standing here beside you. Not plotting nothing, are you?”

I choked a little on my next laugh, a bit disbelieving. “And if I was?” I found myself asking before I could think better of it. 

As the guy shrugged, his lip curled enough to make his nose twitch. The picture of indifference. 

Then he turned to me with a shit-eating grin, “So go on then, who’re you stalking? An old flame, the one who got away… A maths teacher who gave you a crappy mark?”

I quirked a brow. 

“Um,” Unable to stop myself from blowing out a quiet chuckle, “None of the above?” Phrasing it like a question.

“How boring.” The guy dragged out, letting his head fall against the brick work, his curls cushioning its landing. He looked at me then, and I could sort of make out where his eyes were from behind the dark shades he was wearing.

I hummed, feigning offence. “That hurts, coming from you- the guy wearing sunglasses on a day without sun.”

His mouth twitched as he took another drag. “It’s London, love. There’s never any sun.”

I shook my head at him and looked away in attempt to hide my smile.

It was quiet for a few moments after that, but he was still stood there so I figured that that had been the end of our short interaction. My anxiety had dulled somewhat but I couldn’t help the way I’d begun to play with the zip of my jacket, eyes scanning the crowds as my mind found a soft rhythm in the metal’s sound. 

My attention differed when I heard him move again and glanced over to find him stumping out his fag beneath the heel of his boot. When he met my gaze he held it for a slow second before he said, “Wait here, yeah.”

He wandered off then, too quickly for me to question him or utter a reply to that strange demand, he’d just left me to watch him round the corner. 

And so I frowned, staring into the space he’d just occupied, before a huffy laugh slipped out and I found myself shaking my head once again.

Living in London, you met the oddest sorts. Someone asking for something or other as they passed you by, another nutter off their head offering up their life story as you waited for the bus to come. But I’d never really had an exchange like that.

Wait here. I mulled the words over.

With nothing better to do, and not really sensing any immediate danger headed my way, I decided to take perch on the cobbled curb of the side street I’d been lingering on. If I was going to wait, then I’d sit and do so. I couldn’t much be arsed to stand about any longer. My legs were already stiff from standing for ages trying to pluck up enough courage to head into that stupid coffee shop, and the wind had decided then to pick up. 

Besides, the guy hadn’t been half-bad to look at, I could see why the girls had grown quite attached. 

So it was there that the stranger found me when he returned, lips pursed as he rounded the corner. When he noticed me sat there though his smile widened and he manoeuvred himself quite quickly onto the curb beside me, easily enough that he didn’t upset the cardboard tray he held in one hand and the bag he had in the other.

“Thought you’d wandered off for a second there.” He commented, dropping the bag between his folded legs to pluck a drink from the tray. He then handed the warm cup to me and I seemed to take it on impulse. “Good that you hadn’t though, would’ve gone to waste otherwise.” He added as he gestured with his head towards the steaming cup I now cradled confusedly. He was rummaging around for the bag again before I could even work up the words to question what was happening. He tossed it towards me. “That too.”

“Um…” I said, eyes flitting between the drink, the bag, and the man himself. 

“A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.” I heard him say, and finally looked back up to find him wearing an amused but cocky smirk.

“What?”

He gestured at the cup again and I peered down, taking note of the logo which I then realised belonged to small cafe sat beside us.

“This is for me?”

He just stared blankly back at me.

“Why?” I finally questioned, coming to my senses.

“Why not?” He retorted smartly, already sipping at his own drink.

I blinked whilst I tucked a small strand of hair behind my ear, unsure.

“It’s not poisoned.”

With a unhelpful snort I said, “Sounds promising. What is it then?”

“Was gonna grab you a coffee- figure, everyone likes coffee.” He started with an animated shrug. “But you seemed a bit jittery already, so went with tea instead. Oh,” He stopped to pull a couple of tiny pots from his coat pocket and dumped them onto the road between us. “Milk.”

“And if I liked sugar?” I found myself teasing as I opened the plastic lid, pouring in a good amount of milk into the dark brew. I blew at the rim to watch the steam whirl into the air before I took a small sip, my eyes found his, still hidden behind those dark glasses he wore.

“Then I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“Fair enough.” I chuckled, liking his bluntness, then held up the cup as I added, “Thank you, though- for this.”

He simply waved me off. As though it was no big deal.

I set the tea down on the pavement beside me for a moment to peer into the bag he’d tossed my way. I tried to bite back a pleased grin when I turned to him. “We’re sharing this, by the way.”

His forehead wrinkled from over his cup.

“Bossy, I like it.” Was what he came out with, before he dipped his chin slightly in discouragement. “But no, you’re all good. Have it.”

I shook my head at him. “Come on, we can split it.” I said, already pulling the sweet treat he’d purchased halfway out of the paper bag. 

He quirked a brow. “How? It’s a muffin, just keep it.”

“It’s blueberry though.”

The guy just looked back at me, lost but somewhat curious. “What the fuck does it being blueberry have to do with it?”

“Everything. Blueberry muffins are the best sort.” I shrugged as though the answer had been obvious, pulling at the cake’s top to split it horizontally through the middle. I handed him his half then shook the crumbs off of my jacket sleeve. “I’m taking the top part though, sorry.” I added, already tearing into the dome shaped top.

He adverted his gaze between myself and the cased muffin’s bottom a few times. Almost like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

I hummed in appreciation at the sweet flavour that coated my tongue before peering back over at him, he seemed to be watching me but I couldn’t be sure.

“What?” I question, feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

“Blueberry. You’re claiming that blueberry is the best of all the muffin flavours. That’s astounding to be frank. I’m actually baffled. I mean, blueberry… Really?”

I merely grinned.

“Really.”

He shook his head, holding his tongue between his front teeth to keep from smiling too.

He kicked a leg out then, sitting his drink on the gravel road to take a taste of the soft treat. He seemed to mull the flavour over a bit before he finally grunted, “It’s alright.”

“Alright? Just alright?” I retorted, almost offended on the muffin’s behalf. “This-“ I held up my segment, “is almost perfect.”

One word seemed to catch his attention though, he cocked a brow. “Almost?”

I hummed, not bothering with a reply as I broke off another chunk and tossed it into my mouth.

His tongue danced over his lower lip and left the topic be. I took the moment to grab my tea again, appreciating the warmth of it in my palms. That’s when I caught the name sharpied onto its side.

I snorted, “What’s with Frankenstein?”

His eyebrows lifted up over the rim of his glasses as he turned to face me, but he seemed to make sense of what I’d meant when he caught me cradling the cup. He laughed but didn’t comment any further.

I couldn’t help my smile by this point, “Come on. What’s your real name then?”

He smirked. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Um, so I can thank you properly?” I suggested, but immediately wished I hadn’t.

“Properly, hm?” He parroted back, that cocky smile of his was back in full beam. “I can think of a hundred different ways you could thank me properly without even needing to know my name.”

His grin only grew wider when he saw the mostly disgusted look plastered on my face. I scoffed playfully.

“I might’ve just been stood on a street corner, but I can promise you now that that’s not happening.”

A sharp bark erupted from him, but it didn’t seem to garner any attention from anyone else, as though we’d created our own little bubble. “I like it. But we’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes but decided to move on. “You’re really not going to give me your name then?”

He acted as though he was mulling it over. “What do I get in return?” He asked with a small jerk of his chin, then seeing my unimpressed stare, he added, “I’m just messing about, darling. How about- you guess it.”

“You’re not being serious.” At his nod, I all but groaned, “How am I supposed to guess your name? Do you know how long we could be sat here?”

He shrugged a shoulder and went in for another bite of the blueberry muffin. “Don’t know, but you’re the one who’s guessing so I’d get started.”

I thinned my lips. “At least give me a clue then.”

He eyed me for a moment, then wiped at his mouth before he ultimately dipped his head. “Alright. But this is your only one, yeah?”

I thought about it briefly then nodded unhappily, it was probably the best offer I was going to get out of him. 

He grinned as though he’d won some sort of prize, but before I could snark back he was prattling away again. “Okay. It’s common, I’ll give you that. But that's all you’re getting.”

“Common.” I thought about it as I brought a knee up to my chest to rest my chin against. “So are we talking Bible sort of common, or just British?”

“Ah, ah, ah. That’s cheating. Only the one clue, remember.”

I exhaled huffily before chewing on the inside of my cheek. 

“Jack.” I guessed.

He shook his head.

“John?”

He snorted, “No.”

“James? Jacob!”

“Fuck me, what’s with all the J’s?”

“So it doesn’t start with a J.” I smiled triumphantly but my victory was rapidly swept away when he hit back with, “Never said that.”

Even with his denial, I switched it up a bit and took the time to carefully observe him. He definitely seemed like someone who owned his name. Meaning, that he wasn’t a Tom who looked a lot more like a Harry. 

Immediately I removed those two names from the mental list I was rapidly curating, deciding that they didn’t much suit him.

I was almost unaware of myself as I looked at him, taking in the small details he offered to the world. The hollow of his cheeks, the scruff on his chin, the wrinkles dotted around his mouth and hairline. I wished for a moment to see the colour of his eyes then, believing that they might share a few more of his secrets.

“Oli?” I tried, then instantly decided against it, “How about George?”

He shook his head again at the first, and laughed a little harder at the second. I chewed at my lip. 

“This is difficult.”

He hummed, obviously finding amusement in my struggle as he sipped at his drink again.

I tapped away at my knee before kicking my leg out in mild frustration, not thinking too hard about the way my boot had lightly nicked his extended leg.

“Um,” I drawled out in dwindling thought. “William, but you keep it short… So, Will?”

“Nope.” 

“Christopher?”

“Look, you’re close with the length.” He mentioned. 

I grinned at him in complete surprise and he grunted unhappily when the realisation hit him that he’d just offered me up another clue.

“Nicholas? I think you could be a Nick-” I paused, tilting my head one way, then another. “No wait, actually no.” I grimaced at the thought, then sighed. “I have zero clue here.”

“Ah, come on, love. You can’t give up just as you’re getting close.” He encouraged, I pulled a face at him, hating the fact that he was finding this whole charade entertaining.

“Just tell me.” I pleaded.

“Nah.”

“Come on. Why not?”

He shook his head, smiling all the while. “‘Cause.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Taking another aggressive bite out of my muffin, I let my gaze roam over his attire, taking in the dark oversized pilots jacket he had layered over a slightly longer linen shirt, which was a few shades lighter than that of his trousers. The trousers were crumpled from the way he’d chosen to sit but otherwise seemed to fit him well, a beige sort of colour that led straight into a pair of heavy black docs.

A few more names lingered on the tip of my tongue but ultimately I decided on, “Matthew.”

His face perked up upon hearing it and I was celebrating before he could even confirm it for me. 

“Fucking dragged that out.” He said with false fatigue, to which I swatted his arm for, but he leant away, chuckling all the while. 

When I relented he made a show out of repositioning himself- somewhat closer now than he had originally been, which I vaguely noticed but chose not to comment on. He rubbed at the tip of his nose briefly then, before he finally- finally- tugged off those godawful glasses he wore, making a home for them in his nest of curls.

I quietened down.

Brown. His eyes were brown. And they were bright and earnest and wrinkled by his smile.

I couldn’t not grin right back at him. 

“Matthew.” I practically declared, happy to have won. 

He shook his head in laughter, “Now, before you go getting ahead of yourself, it’s actually Matty.”

Hm, yeah, that sounded more like him. 

“Matty.” I couldn’t help but repeat, somewhat quieter than before.

We shared a look then that seemed to last a century and yet a second. I blinked. 

“Am I gonna have to guess yours now? Payback and all that.” Matty queried, and had somehow procured a pack of cigarettes in his hands. He lit one.  

“Oo, should I?” I ask, half tempted, and finished off the dregs of my muffin, wiping away what little remained. “Feel like we’d be here all day then.”

Matty offered up the lit cigarette. He’d already taken a slow drag, and I wasn’t much of a smoker, but it had honestly been a day, so I accepted, watching him as I inhaled.

“Is it something cool?” He quizzed, palms splayed out now across the pavement behind us as he relaxed further. I frowned at him, not catching what he meant. “Your name.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I dunno really. Bit uncool to say your name’s cool though, ain’t it?”

“Depends on whether your name’s actually cool or not.” Matty commented, and I couldn’t not laugh as he continued on, “If you’ve got a generic fucking name like- I don’t know- Andy, and think it’s proper cool then that’s just a bit sad. I mean, Andy. Really? How bland can you be? But you come out with something like Megatron, then…” He shrugged, “You’re sort of set for life. Kids will think your sick, and you’d be in there the second you mention it when you’re out trying to pull.”

“I fucking doubt that.”

“Ah, come on! You mean to tell me you wouldn’t shag a bloke called Ezekiel or some crap like that?” Matty demanded, seemingly in disbelief.

“Ezekiel- where the fuck have you just pulled that name from?” I couldn’t not ask.

“Hebrew, ain't it?” Matty brushed over, before continuing on with his argument. I just sat there and listened, chiming in here and there to wind him up further, but was mostly entertained by his take on the topic.

“Fuck!” He all but shouted with a strangled sort of laugh— in the time he’d been ranting, he’d already lit two more cigarettes and downed the last of his coffee. “Why’d you let me ramble on? I was meant to be getting your name!”

I smiled and moved to sit in a more comfortable position, crossing my legs. “You can talk for England, you. Not my fault you don’t know when to shut up.”

Matty didn’t seem to mind the jeering, he snorted as he sidled closer on the curb. “So go on, your name.” He prompted, brown eyes teasing and bright under the afternoon sun.

I rolled my own before letting them stray to the left, up and over to where people still seemed to be bustling past the side street, unaware of us, or just uncaring.

“Y/n.” I relented, turning my head back towards Matty.

He stared long and hard at me for a second, appearing to rest my name between the cusp of his teeth, right there on the tip of his tongue. And then he spoke, “Y/n. Suits you.” 

I quirked a brow, “Oh, yeah?”

Matty hummed with a smile. “Yeah. Reckon I could’ve guessed it easily.”

I couldn’t help the god awful snort I released as I shook my head in exasperation, hair brushing against the shoulders of my jacket as it fell forward. “You’re a twat.”

But he didn’t seem to mind it.

[weirdmageddon]

ur davejade posting has me Remembering and goddddd. theyre so good. thank u

i want to make a davejade analysis masterpost but the funniest thing with these asks is that theyre the ones that really prompt me to put my thoughts together in some direction and i ALWAYS find a new implication or connection to talk about. like while i’m writing the connections will just make themselves known. if i made a masterpost i’d have to update it every time i think of something new which defeats the purpose of a masterpost because it’d never be finished. so i just like to spitball into separate posts and just shove them in my davejade tag. i was NOT expecting to get back into homestuck with davejade at the forefront but i can see things now i didnt then

im gonna go off again because it’s so obvious to me on this jumpy scrambled “reread” that dave has a fat fucking heart-on / affection erection for jade. hes tryin soo hard to be cool but hes like this with jade actually behind the screen and she knows it

words and deeds of a court jester dude who totally has a crush on his childhood internet friend and doesnt acknowledge it (btw this is woefully incomplete for the sake of brevity but i could elaborate in another post. i actually have a draft (edit: posted) with a shit ton of more analysis stuff in it on why he acts differently with her than other characters):

the next day (chronologically) when jade messages him:

hussie commentary: “Dave's one-pixel-smile there means that there are literally more than ten thousand drawings on the internet of Dave and Jade kissing. That pixel literally made that happen.”

i mean … it sure is easy to assume how he feels about jade based on the way he talks to her and when his sprite only ever smiles one other time in the entire fucking comic and the reality of that other one was arguable since it was during [S] Karkat: Mental breakdown and its likely karkat was hallucinating it based on the content and context of the flash

nah this one was real. and it was from the first conversation we saw between dave and jade in the comic and thus set the standard for their dynamic. and remember old school 2009 dave was kind of a menace so it says a lot

this girl was special enough to him to warrant that pixel

jade calling dave a “huge baby” for him getting nervous about a piss while she’s his server player. he makes such a big deal about it while shes like oh my god just go:

and the absurdity of the situation being one of his favorite memories

i know pesterquest isn’t “canon” canon but it passes my character essence check and still contributes something of substance to my argument. like i can say this is not at all out of place if these characters were plopped into these scenarios. remember this takes place on the same day as the above, 4/13/2009. theyre the same age as above and have the same relationship as they did above, just in a different scenario that wasn’t possible in canon wherein they didn’t play sburb

Jade wanders away from that window and toward another one, whose view is exclusively centered on the rolling blue. She presses a hand against the misty pane and sighs. JADE: you know, dave talks a lot about coming to visit me here. i mean, all of my friends do but dave especially JADE: in his usual davey way of course, which means making lots of jokes and not sounding very serious about it JADE: "yeah im itching to put on my safari hat and come traipsing down to doomdeath archipelago to get my ass murdered by infinidog the eldritch retriever," stuff like that JADE: i know he really means it though! he wants to see me, just like i want to see him JADE: but its just wishful thinking

anyway daves reaction to seeing his isolated online friend for the first time irl cry because she has guests. its even better with the character sprites

JADE: we can play with all my toys and jam out to some music and stay up all night chatting with each other and oh my god oh my god youre here youre all here this is really happening!!!!! Jade's next laugh verges on hysterical and she's got tears streaked down her cheeks. Dave looks a little perturbed. DAVE: wow holy shit uh DAVE: its cool jade no need to get so DAVE: like this DAVE: kind of fucks me up seeing you cry DAVE: not that im trying to make this all about me DAVE: i mean uh

and so after mspa reader’s intervention, who do we see with jade the next time we see her?

dave. and hes goofing with her squiddles while grinning

DAVE: okay so lets see what we got here Jade's room is bright and cheery, fresh flowers in the hanging pots, curtains pulled open wide to let in the afternoon sunlight. Jade sits on her bed while Dave paces in front of a line of squiddle toys, carefully assembled in neat ranks. DAVE: this blue one is clearly in charge look at his dominant posture DAVE: also hes the only motherfucker not tentacle deep in his homie DAVE: hes an untangled buddy that is some shit really cuts to the core of like DAVE: DAVE: emotions JADE: its actually because the magnets in him are messed up, and always have been!! DAVE: harley you are ruining the magic come on

basically what im putting together is that dave was REALLY fixin to spend some time with jade. extending into her sphere of interests that he doesnt express much with anyone else; you can tell he really wanted to engage with her in a less irony poisoned way. he’s softer with her than his other friends and god forbid the trolls, he is much less skeptical about things when talking to her (he even questions why he just seems to go along with her eccentric precognitive statements but he doesnt change his attitude about it), he showers her with his music and raps to the point where jade is expectant of getting poetry from him. rap IS poetry. please realize that dave is sending her his poetry, regardless of how goofy it may be. this is the level on which im viewing this at and once you realize this theres no going back. there comes a time in every homestuck’s life where they have to see how dave interacted jade and conclude that he had a cute little puppy crush on her unbeknownst to either of them. and it was adorable. and now, in the year 2023, it’s your time to realize this too. no going back.

and btw it all came back around…………………nimblest son of a bitch who had the gumption to glue a nasty pair of latex cat lips to his face

for a reason that wasnt a joke anymore

don’t think ive seen anyone talk about this parallel at the end to one of their first conversations in the comic. maybe somebody did back in the day but i never saw it

[tau1tvec]

How do you stop worrying that your sims posts won't be perfect? Is it possible to escape the "this isn't instantly, effortlessly amazing and therefore it sucks and is horrible" mindset?

Well first of all you need to sit down and figure what it is that defines “perfect” to you. Now lower those expectations by about 25%, bc it’s likely you’re struggling with something I also struggle with, and it’s called “being your biggest critic”, and you’re actually being unnecessarily hard on yourself.

There isn’t anything wrong with this btw, it’s quite handy when you’re on the internet, bc if it passed your unreasonably high standards, well then everyone else liking it is just sugar on top.

However this mindset does have its downsides. Mostly bc you’re disconnecting yourself from the purpose of why you would be sharing it with others to begin with. The connection humans make over art and media is too precious not to want to care what others think, but how will you ever know what they think, if you don’t show them? I know, this is quite the hot take, but it’s the truth. Yes do things for yourself first, but in all honesty are you rlly just doing it for yourself and yourself only if you’re sharing it publicly online too? I’m only saying, Michelangelo didn’t paint the cieling of the Sistine Chapel so that everyone would ignore it.

My suggestion? Post whatever every once and a while to remember you’re supposed to be doing this for fun first. Being artistic, thought provoking, engaging, trendsetting are all things that rely on you to have fun first. You gotta enjoy it, you rlly have to, bc ppl can tell when you’re not enjoying it, you can tell when you’re not enjoying it, and that’s why you’re feeling the way you do.

So post CAS pics with the UI still visible, share gameplay without Reshade on, post your sim not fully rendered or looking like a complete cryptid, and lastly learn that perfection isn’t about quality, consistency, how crisp your graphics look, or heavily edited your screenshots are.

True perfection is being able to show someone something, literally anything, it could be a fucking stick figure, and somehow it still invoke a feeling so familiar, so nostalgic, or so funny, that liking it comes easy.

Plus, 9/10 times no one is looking at the shit only you notice. So yeah, 25% 🤏.

[howlinchickhowl]

It's coffeeshop day! I couldn't possibly miss coffeeshop day. I want you to know I am absolutely working on the next full chapter of Ristretto, but for today's a.u.gust prompt I thought it would be fun to do a little switcheroo, so here is a little Ristretto Mickey POV for while you wait. @gallavichthings as always, thank you :)

edited to add a link for Ristretto, if you have no idea what I'm talking about, this is my coffeeshop au I am already writing! So if you like this little sojourn, you can go read that as well.

Thank you for the extra foam eleven - coffeeshop

Fucking Iggy. Mickey thinks to himself as he barrels down the street, uncaring about the slow moving pedestrians he bumps on the way. Stupid fucking idiot.

They talked about this shit. Last week they talked about this shit. Him and Ig and Mandy they’d sat down at the shitty kitchen table they’d rescued from a dumpster and talked about how things were gonna be. They’d laid it all out, they’d all agreed, they were done with it, the life they’d been raised to lead, drugs and guns and fights and prison and parole and dying shitty violent deaths at the hand of shitty violent assholes who claimed they were your friends.

They were done with it. All three of them. Colin too when he gets out of jail if he wants. They were supposed to be going straight. So why the fuck was he now spending his afternoon scrambling around everywhere he can think of to put together fucking bail money? Because Iggy was a stupid fucking idiot. That much has always been true and Mickey was just as much of an idiot to think that that might have changed.

He’s been to Sandy’s and hit up his buddy Greg at the home, but he’s still a hundred and fifty bucks short and Mandy’s not answering her phone, so now he’s about to do something he and Iggy both had been expressly forbidden to do and visit her at work.

He’s so worked up he pushes the door so hard that it almost bounces off its hinges, and he locks eyes with Mandy almost immediately. Her face is like thunder and she storms over to him like she’s about to pitch a fit. Well she’s not the only fucking one.

“What?” She demands when she reaches him, not quite a whisper but definitely not the volume that he knows she’d be using if they weren’t at her job right now. She looks back over her shoulder at her co-worker, a tall red-head who is clearly watching them and clearly trying not to look like he’s watching them. Mandy grabs him and shoves him out of the way of the door, a little further from the counter, and he gets that she’s not happy to see him but none of this is his fucking fault and he doesn’t appreciate being manhandled.

“You’re not supposed to come here.” She says through gritted teeth, like he doesn’t already know she doesn’t want their family anywhere near her first real on the level employment.

“Yeah no shit Mandy, I look like I wanna be here? Answer your fuckin’ phone in future.”

“I’m not supposed to have my phone out here shitbrain, what the fuck is so important?”

They’ve gotten a bit louder, the heat of their words burning away at their control, but shooting a look back towards the counter he makes a conscious effort to lower his voice again. He’s got to be here but he doesn’t have to let everyone know they got jailbirds in the family.

“Iggy got himself a fuckin’ assault charge and I ain’t got enough for bail.”

“What the fuck Mick?!” Mandy casts furtive glances all around her and leans in closer to him, “Who’d he assault?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know, just some bar fight or somethin’, it’s not serious, but because of his record and his last name they’re holdin’ him.”

“Fucking assholes. How much you need?”

It’s a lot, and he hates that he couldn’t put it together. A year ago, he could’ve, easy. That’s barely a morning’s worth of hand-jobs at the rub and tug and even without the actual jobs he could’ve just asked Sasha for a quick loan. Now they’ve gone straight it’s a lot harder to find any serious amount of ready money. He winces.

“Another one-fifty-two.”

“What am I, a stripper? I don’t carry that much cash Mickey!”

“I don’t know what you do, just give me whatever you’ve got and don’t be a fucking bitch about it alright? This is ruining my day just as much as it is yours.”

She heaves a huge great sigh and stomps off behind the counter into whatever staff room they have back there and Mickey is just stood there like a spare prick at a picnic waiting for her to come back.

He locks eyes with the redhead, who is watching him anxiously from his spot behind the counter. Mickey’s not stupid, he knows what people’s first impression of him usually is, he worked hard for that first impression when he was growing up, doing his best to intimidate anyone he ever came into contact with.

It bothers him sometimes, that he worked so hard on it that now he freaks people out without even trying, but today he’s got other shit on his mind and he doesn’t much care if some guy Mandy shills coffee with thinks he’s bad news. He crosses his arms across his chest and stares the guy down, daring him to say something, knowing that he never will.

He’s kind of hot, Mickey realizes while he’s standing there, even if he is a pussy. There’s the hair, for one thing, Mickey’s always kind of had a thing for a redhead, plus he’s built, in a lean kind of way, and his face is like, not unpleasant to look at. And because he learned growing up that if you find something pleasant to look at you shouldn’t look at it for too long, he cuts eye contact and looks away.

Mandy marches back out into the store with a wad of cash and her ratty Sun Times tote bag that she shoves in his hands with a pissed off,

“There.”

The cash he gets, he’s grateful for, it looks like maybe sixty bucks,  the tote bag though, he doesn’t know what to do with. He shakes it at her for emphasis.

“What’s this for?”

“My card wallet is in there, get whatever cash there is out of the ATM, I don’t even know what I’ve got in there right now. And there’s a MAC palette I’m selling to Scheana, you know Scheana with the pinkeye?” Yeah, he fuckin’ knows Scheana, dirty fuckin’ skank always trying to come on to him and eating all his pizza rolls.  “She lives on Harper, you’ll get forty for that.”

“The fuck’s a MAC palette?”

“It’s fucking eyeshadow dickwad.”

She shoves him, hard in the shoulder, and he stumbles, resents the fuck out of his whole family.

“Take it easy bitchface, I don’t fuckin’ know!”

“Just get out of here, and tell Iggy I’m gonna kick his ass when I see him.”

She’s gone already, heading back to the counter, not even looking at him when he says,

“Yeah yeah, later.”

And he’s gone, out the door and on his way to the ATM, cursing the day any of his siblings were born, and already trying not to think too hard about dark freckles on pale skin and a head of shocking red hair.

He lasts three weeks.

It’s into October when he finally caves and engineers his route to work to take him past Tamp & Grind. And, well, his sister is working, it would be weird not to stop in and say hey, or whatever.

It’s stupid, he’s aware. He’s only seen the guy once, doesn’t even know if he’s gay, doesn’t even know if he’s working. Plus Mandy will probably tear him a new one when she gets home later. All very real and good reasons not to go there.

And yet.

He shoulders open the door, it’s warm inside, the air smells sweet and rich, he’d been in such a frenzy last time he was here he hadn’t really noticed anything about it. Apart from Ian.

That’s his name, Ian. Mandy’s co-worker who has been occupying most of Mickey’s idle thoughts for the last few weeks. He’s tried, surreptitiously, to learn anything about him from Mandy when they’ve both been home at the same time. According to Mandy he’s ‘cool’ and ‘funny’ and ‘doesn’t suck ass’ like some of her other co-workers. She’s not exactly easy to get information out of but he knows she likes coming to work more on days when Ian will be there, so when she breezed out the door this afternoon with half a smile on her face he’d taken a chance on it being a day Ian was working too.

He was right. Mandy is sat up on one of the counters, can’t be fucking sanitary, and Ian is stood just by her, messing with something under the counter.

“Could I be a sexy latte?” He hears Mandy ask, smiling over at Ian, and what a weird and disturbing image.

“What the fuck?” Mickey finds himself asking, getting the attention of the two of them and oh. He’d kind of convinced himself the last couple of weeks that his brain had amplified how good looking Ian was, that he was actually just a regular looking guy and it was just the fantasy of him that Mickey was powerlessly focused on. Boy had he been wrong.

If anything he’s more good looking than Mickey remembers, sculpted face and long lashes and deep green eyes the shade of pondweed, but in like a hot way. Shit.

“What are you doing here?” Mandy asks like he’s a fucking bug she flicked off of her windscreen this morning come back for a second go.

“Was in the neighborhood.” It’s not a good answer, suspicious as fuck, really. Mandy scrunches her nose up at him and raises one eyebrow.

“Why?” She asks. He can’t think of a single good reason.

“None o’your fuckin’ business, that’s why.”

She rings him through a coffee and they bicker back and forth about the price for a minute or two, four bucks for a black coffee seems like daylight fucking robbery to him, maybe they should open a fucking coffee shop, seems like that’s where all the money is these days. Fuck the coke, give ‘em caffeine.

He looks around the shop a little while he waits for his drink, reading the flyers stuck up on the noticeboard, fiddling with the little packets of Splenda and wooden stirrers and shit, all while chancing little glimpses of Ian behind the espresso machine. Not too obvious. Mandy already knows something’s up, she’s not giving him enough shit about being here, she’s definitely gonna get into him later, so he’s not trying to hide his interest from her, exactly. But he doesn’t want to let onto Ian just now, doesn’t want to make the guy uncomfortable if he’s not gay, or if he’s just not into Mickey. He’s shooting his own discreet glances Mickey’s way though so he feels like maybe it’s not a totally one-sided thing.

Mandy calls him over when his drink’s ready and he takes a sip right when he grabs it, suddenly itching for something to do, some purpose after he’s been stood around for five minutes just waiting. They’ve given him a fucking hazelnut latte.

Sometimes he can’t fucking stand his sister.

He always orders black coffee. Everywhere he goes, black coffee. Sure he’s got a bit of a thing for sugar, who in the world doesn’t like something sweet? And when Mandy shows up sometimes with some sort of flavored monstrosity he’ll take a sip or two, it’s no big deal. But now she’s made it seem to Ian like he’s some sort of pussy who not only likes caffeinated syrup drinks like a fourteen year old girl, but also is too much of a pussy to admit he likes them.

She’s a fucking bitch, and he tells her as much, and Ian. Well. Ian doesn’t like that.

Mandy’s probably been called a bitch a thousand times in her life, and no one has ever jumped to her defense before now. But Ian, fucking, knight in shining green apron is right there, hand on Mandy’s back, telling Mickey not to talk to her that way, and what the fuck? Mandy gives as good as she gets and if Ian hasn’t learned that yet he will, and probably soon.

It’s not not hot, him squaring up to Mickey, though the fact that it’s over Mandy’s honor gives him some pause for thought, makes him wonder if he’s got it wrong, if Ian’s actually into Mandy, actually not interested in Mickey at all, actually just a straight guy who Mickey’s been projecting onto. But when he licks his lips and calls him tough guy he can see Ian’s eyes flicker like it did something for him.

He takes off with his sugary drink and spends the rest of his walk to work trying to figure out what exactly is the deal with Ian, and when’s the next time he can go back. Preferably on a day when Mandy isn’t working.